#very obvious in this tournament
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cruyffista · 5 months ago
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starburstdragon · 2 years ago
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Guys Who Are Multiple Guys Tournament, Semifinals
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Evelyn
The alternate Evelyns are incredibly relevant to the way the movie plays out, and the movie itself is about love and identity and individuality and all those things, so she’s got the vibe. My friend suggested her :)
Church
“He's an AI copy of a scientist that was tortured into splitting himself into pieces, each of those pieces are different characters with their own names and identities. Although one is basically a copy of him” - User submission
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tournamentcorner · 2 years ago
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Stay tuned for 4 surprise guests ready to join the tourmament in Round 2!
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straightbaittournament · 1 year ago
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ok LAST QUESTION I PROMISE, but i have realized a bit late in the game that i can just. eliminate the bottom 3 for each poll right now instead of eliminating 1 pair per poll for three rounds. so here’s my question..
just to clarify: the round of polls i have already released (which have all been completed as of now, as per this post) would count as prelim round one, meaning the redemption round would start pretty much asap. second option was the original plan, as explained in my pinned post. it’s the same amount of winners and eliminations for each, so really it comes down to what kind of prelim tourney experience you’d prefer to have
ok, that’s all! let me know what you think! now go vote! 🫡
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the-kipsabian · 1 year ago
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aew posted a short on their youtube page two days ago (im only seeing this now as i dont follow them or watch shorts unless its something intriguing like this)
its about miro beating orange cassidy
this is some terrible foreshadowing (that i dont wanna say ive been calling before buuut)
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txttletale · 22 days ago
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hey what DO you watch on youtube? seems like you'd have some neat recommendations :3
i really loathe the like super-highly edited sound effect post-mrbeast slop most of youtube is now so i mostly like stuff that's like... calm and sedate. stuff i've been watching lately in no particular order:
northernlion vods and clips. he's an OG. i especially like his react court series, i must have watched all of them like five times.
speaking of OGs i've been watching zero puncutation (now fully ramblomatic) for like ten years and if anything it's only gotten better. best game review content on the internet. been really enjoying his more recent, slightly longer and more thoughtful 'extra punctuation/semi-ramblomatic' series too.
any austin's skyrim unemployment rate videos. instant classics to me, it's just a guy going around in skyrim trying to figure out the unemployment rate in every town. it's a very dry kind of humour, he plays it admirably straight, and it's weirdly calming.
kitten arcader's foot the bill videos. in a kind of similar vein, he watches the saw movies and then produces an itemized bill for everything jigsaw needed to buy to make his traps. it's kind of like... if cinemasins was fundamentally curious instead of fundamentally incurious, it scratches a similar sort of nitpicky detail-oriented quantifying itch but without inimical to the concept of art.
shuffle up and play. it's a magic the gathering play series that has enough editing that the gamestate is actually legible but not enough editing (or at least, not enough obtrusive in-your-face editing) that its annoying. i also like that they reguilarly play non-edh formats like cube and pauper.
spice8rack. i'm pretty picky about video essays but spice8rack has very obviously actually read books and has interesting things to say about the topics it discusses (mostly magic: the gathering). sometimes it has a kind of grating Theater Kid Energy but the fact that it actually meaningfully structures essays and analysis to earn the silly long runtimes is a rare delight from a video essayist.
jenny nicholson is a long-time favourite and another permanent fixture in my rotation. she's just extremely, remarkably funny which makes her the only 'basically just summarizing a thing' youtuber i think is worth the time of day.
i watch some sketch comedy, mainly wizards with guns and aunty donna, who both consistently put out really funny stuff that's kind of ITYSL-adjacent in its barefaced absurdism and contenmpt for concepts like "stopping a joke at the logical punchline". i also really like alasdair beckett-king and binging the old clickhole backlog for short-form comedy on youtube.
wolfeyvgc is right on the edge of the level of editing i find tolerable but as a long-time fan of multiple esports he Has It, he's absolutelyt fantastic at t elling the narrative of a tournament, explaining plays clearly, and generally making competitive pokemon esports thrilling and interesting ti someone (me) who#s never played it and doesn't care about pkoemon that much
i religously watch every elliespectacular/dathings YTP, the absolute best in the game right now, top tier snetence mixing and really good at actually setting up and paying off jokes in a way it feels like a lot of ytp doesn't. verytallbart is also pretty good.
trapperdapper is a channel i recently binged, it's a really fucking funny parody of minecraft challenge content that veers slowly from obvious angles of parody into pure absurdism with tons of blink-and-you'll miss it subtle visual gags.
too much future is a great youtube series where the two guys from just king things/homestuck made this world play through every fallout game and analyze them in that context. extremely funny and also just top-tier very sharp analysis. really good
another one of the rare good video essayists is jan misali. they're really funny and will go into topics that kind of seem narrow or strange to begin with in such depth and make them so interesting that it's consistently astonishing.
oh and finally sarah z makes pretty good videos. 'the narcissist scare' is an absolutely brilliant deconstruction of one of the most annoying pop-psych phenomena of the last couple years. and remarkably well script supervised i think did anyone else watch it and think 'wow the script supervisor on this must have been, a mind geniuse'
ok i think that's all i've been watching lately. hope you like whcihever of these recs you check out :)
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kittwix · 8 months ago
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First Kiss with the Joestars
Jonathan Joestar, Joseph Joestar, Jotaro Kujo, Josuke Higashikata, Giorno Giovanna, Jolyne Cujoh, Johnny Joestar, Josuke Higashikata (Gappy), Jodio Joestar x Neu! Reader
word count: 5.4k , it's long if you read all of their parts >_<
tags: very sweet; cavity inducing fluff, jodio is a little mean, reader stand isnt specify or implied, reader is gender neutral!
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Jonathan Joestar
Your suspicion grew when he had invited you for a picnic out to the vineyard. He had made it obvious that he liked being around you, even at the times when he would be practicing for his Rugby tournaments, he would always encourage you to be there to cheer him up.
He would have everything all planned out, he had his maids prepare the basket for him and even went ahead to pack some of his favorite lunch items; resisting the urge to just eat them right then and there before he could meet up with you.
Upon meeting, he gracefully held the basket with one hand, offering his other arm for you to grasp. He greeted you with a kiss on the back of your hand, a faint blush gracing his cheeks, eliciting a chuckle of amusement from you.
"My, my, Jojo.. Have you contrived this all on my behalf?" You stood there, curiosity in your eyes and a small smile, as you watched your boyfriend carefully spread a beautifully sewed quilt over the uneven patches of grass. It was clear that this moment, simple as it might seem, was shaped with intention and care, setting the stage for the intimate afternoon you were about to share together. "Could it be that there is a significant event which has escaped my memory?” 
"No, nothing of that sort." Jonathan replied, his smile casting a warmth over you that felt as comforting as sunlight caressing your skin.The sheer sight of him made your tummy flutter with butterflies; his handsomeness was evident, and his disposition was the pinnacle of gentleness. He was the nicest and most sincere boy you'd ever met. "What a delightful day out, wouldn’t you agree? The weather is simply ideal for a luncheon outing with my beloved.” 
"Well yes," You hummed, now it was your turn to be embarrassed as you fidgeted with your hands for a moment and watched him take apart the lunch. "I cannot shake the suspicion that you are plotting something. Quite the mischievous schemer, are you not?”
"What? Me? That’s absurd! Do you truly believe me of being capable of such baseness?" Your boyfriend teased, mimicking a frown which prompted you to gently push on his shoulder as you shared a laugh. It was times like this where you could genuinely admire him. You noted the sharp outlines of his chiseled face, and how his kind blue eyes, reminiscent of the deepest sapphires, seemed to sparkle even more under the natural light. And oh, that smile...
You gradually moved closer to him, inch by inch, until there was almost no room between you. He twisted his head, appearing surprised by the sudden closeness, yet there was no sign of disinterest in his reaction. Silence encompassed you both, the world around you dissolving into a distant hum. 
Within seconds, you closed your eyes and closed the final gap, your lips meeting his in a sweet, short kiss. It was a brief encounter, lasting only a few seconds before you pulled back, but in his gaze, you could swear you saw stars twinkling back at you. He glanced at you, completely taken aback, his mouth slightly parted as if about to speak, capturing a moment of wonder.
"Wow..." He reacted. "That was certainly not within the scope of my intentions, but I must admit.. It was rather pleasant."
Joseph Joestar
It was mostly his initiation, he likes to joke around with you a little too much but that was just part of his personality that you like so much. Not to mention that he can be pretty unpredictable, making him blunt in ways that just makes you like him even more. 
"What do you want now, Joestar?" You asked, crossing your arms at the sight of your tall boyfriend creeping up on you with a stupid smile that could only mean that he was up to no good.
"Ouch! Can't a guy stroll up to his darling and turn on the charm?" He asked, seeming to have pretended to his offensiveness with a hand on his chest as he bats his eyelashes at you. “Anyways, got any plans later?”
“Oh, what’s it to you? Gonna take me out for dinner? Miss Lisa Lisa isn’t going to like the fact that you’re slacking off on your training.” You reiterated back with a little smirk and a hand on your hip. "She doesn't need to know! I can handle almost anything, baby! Just give me a shot, or else you might get kissed." He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously, leaning in a bit closer, and you couldn’t help but conceal the smile that was growing on your face. With a playful push, you gently nudged him back, enjoying the flirtatious banter between you. “Is that a threat?” You raised a brow. “Or are you asking something out of me?” “Perhaps.” He answered back and for a second, silence enveloped both of you, heightening the tension in the air. It didn't help matters that he was so close, his scent filling your senses. Glancing around briefly, you released a small sigh, shaking your head in a playful manner. With a tender gesture, you reached out and cupped his cheek, the intimate moment shared between you intensifying.
“You’re impossible.” Your voice was a faint whisper, closing the distance between you as you moved in to give him a gentle kiss on the lips. The kiss, delicate and sweet, lasted far longer than you had anticipated, but you found yourself loving every moment of it. As you got closer, the temptation to melt into his embrace overcame you, and you could feel his eagerness through the curious movements of his hands, which became bolder by the minute.
However, just as you were about to voice your feelings, the distinct call of Caesar’s voice pierced the intimate bubble you had created, forcing you to regretfully break the kiss. Turning your gaze back to Joseph, you were met with his trademark snarky smile, a look that teetered on the edge of being both endearing and infuriating. He wore his joy openly, quietly bragging to himself about having gained something as simple as a kiss to you. It was a moment that triggered a playful irritation in you, making you want to slap his smug grin away.
As the moment between you faded, you watched him depart with a playful wink cast over his shoulder in your direction before returning back to Caesar. Even as he walked away, his cheeky demeanor left a lingering warm feeling in your heart, a silent promise of more moments like these to treasure.
Jotaro Kujo
On the contrary, it was an accidental kiss and wasn't something that neither of you had planned. It was in front of everyone as well, especially in front of his grandfather, which only heightened the embarrassment of the situation.
The situation had taken an unexpected turn, with suspicions that an enemy Stand user, possibly one of Dio's underlings, was involved. This required everyone to be attentive, continuously on the lookout for signs of an attack or sabotage, no matter how bizarre the situation may be at hand. Despite the tension, the moment had allowed for a brief lapse into normalcy as Joseph generously offered to cover the cost of lunch for everyone. You conveyed your gratitude gracefully, humming blissfully to yourself as you devoured the pasta you'd chosen, enjoying the flavors 
However, your delight was cut short when you felt an unusual sensation in your throat. It swelled quickly, making it difficult to breathe and speak. Panic came in when you realized you were choking, and the situation quickly escalated from uncomfortable to life-threatening. It was Iggy who had caught on to this, the small dog emerging from beneath the table and began barking loudly at you.
The abrupt escalation of events threw the group into a state of alarm. As you began to drool excessively, struggling for air, a small, rabid-like bug emerged from your mouth, adding a surreal horror to the scene. Your attempt to cry out was muffled, choked by the intrusion. Polnareff and Joseph let out a collective scream, their voices blending in shock and terror. Despite the panic that was clouding your eyesight, you could see Avdol and Kakyoin rush into action, summoning their Stands with an eagerness.
In the midst of the chaos and fear, you suddenly felt a strong, reassuring grip on your shoulder, spinning you around until you were face-to-face with Jotaro. His presence was imposing, the brim of his hat casting a shadow that obscured the upper half of his face, rendering his eyes invisible in the moment. Before you could process the situation fully, Jotaro's lips pressed firmly against yours. Shock and a surge of adrenaline caused your eyes to fly open wide, your hands instinctively curling into fists against his muscular chest. As he pulled back, the realization hit you: Jotaro had taken the stand from your mouth, now holding it between his lips. With a look of disgust, he spat it out to the side. In an instant, Star Platinum was summoned, its fist blurring into motion as it delivered a powerful punch that sent the stand hurtling into oblivion.
Everyone was taken aback by Jotaro's action. It was a bold move that had you gasping for air. Your cheeks flushed with warmth as you processed the sensation; his lips had been surprisingly soft, and the kiss had carried a level of passion that left you questioning its intent.
The lingering sensation of his lips on yours created an array of emotions swirling within you, mixing gratitude with confusion and a hint of curiosity. The lingering sensation of his lips on yours sparked a range of emotions within you.
You cleared your throat, the unexpectedness of the circumstance made you feel instantly self-conscious, forcing you to put your plate aside as your hunger faded in the aftermath of the experience. “Thanks…” You said hoarsely.
“Yare Yare…” 
Josuke Higashikata
You and Josuke attended the same school, and it had become a regular occurrence for him to offer to walk you home. At first, you didn't think much of it, considering it a friendly gesture. However, things took a different turn when your school friends started teasing you, hinting that Josuke might have a crush on you.
Today was like any other day, with Josuke offering to walk you home once again. However, a nagging feeling of guilt crept over you as you realized how many times he had gone out of his way for you without expecting anything in return. Despite your gratitude for his kindness, you couldn't help but feel like you owed him something more substantial.
As the two of you approached your house's doorstep, you fidgeted with your hands, an anxious yet grateful smile forming across your face as you turned to face the boy. "Is this like, the millionth time you've walked me to my door?" you teased gently, resting against the doorframe and looking down at your feet. "You're really sweet," you said, genuine admiration coloring your words as you met his gaze again. His presence was familiar and comforting, making every trip to your door a special part of your day.
Josuke rubbed the back of his head, a bashful smile playing on his lips as he blushed slightly at your words. "Hey, I was raised to be a gentleman, y'know," he replied with a hint of self-consciousness, his genuine sincerity shining through. "And, uh, I think you're pretty cool to hang out with." he added, trying to play it off casually but unable to hide the warmth in his eyes as he looked at you. 
"Yeah? I think you're pretty cool too," you replied, crossing your arms and allowing your gaze to linger on his figure, almost as if you were studying him intently. Josuke, with his trademark pompadour, couldn't help but chuckle softly at your lingering look, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.
You fought with the thoughts that raced through your mind, urging you to take the risk and make your move, especially after leaving Josuke visibly flustered. He was now haphazardly kicking at a pebble under his foot, avoiding direct eye contact as if quietly expressing that he was waiting for something else to happen before returning home. The tension in the air was obvious, and you could sense the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.
"I wanted to thank you for walking with me every day," you began, your voice wavering slightly with nerves. "A proper thank you," you quickly corrected yourself, hoping to drop a subtle hint about where the conversation was heading. "I feel like my words aren't enough. I think you deserve something more meaningful."
As you spoke, Josuke's gaze shifted back to you, curiosity and anticipation flickering in his eyes. He didn't know what to expect, but the moment he felt your hands holding onto his biceps, everything seemed to fall into place. His heart skipped a beat as realization dawned on him, his mouth going dry and his lips quivering slightly in response to the sudden surge of emotions.
Without hesitating for another second, you leaned in and gently pressed your lips against Josuke's, savoring the sweetness of the moment. The taste of cherry chapstick lingered on your lips, adding to the enchantment of the kiss. When you finally pulled away, a soft giggle escaped your lips as you admired the lovestruck expression on Josuke's face, his goofy grin speaking volumes about his happiness in that moment. "S-so, uh... I'll pick you up tomorrow?" Josuke asked, a hint of nervousness lacing his words. In response, you gave his cheek a soft tap, a reassuring gesture that brought a smile to his face. With a final glance and a warm smile, you opened the door to your house, leaving Josuke with a sense of anticipation.
“Definitely.”
Giorno Giovanna
During another date that he had arranged, Giorno bought you ice cream as the two of you walked hand in hand. It was a rare occasion when he wasn't caught up in his responsibilities as a mob leader and actually took the time to be with you. Being outside of the mansion felt refreshing, and you were grateful that Giorno shared the same sentiment.
"You know," you started, a playful lilt in your voice as you attempted to coax him into sharing the dessert, "it's one of your favorite flavors. Are you sure you don't want a taste?" Your attempt was light-hearted, an effort to draw him into a small act of normalcy, something as mundane as sharing ice cream on a date.
Giorno's response was a chuckle, the sound warm and rich, filling the space between you. "I'm quite sure. Today, I'm more than happy just to see you enjoy it," he replied, his gaze holding yours with an intensity that made your heart flutter. 
It made you wonder if he'd ever considered taking the relationship to the next level. Nothing extravagant, simply the fact that you've been dating for a while now and he has never initiated a kiss. How you ached to feel his lips on yours. Given his soft-spoken demeanor, you wondered if his lips were also soft and moisturized, providing an intoxicating lasting sensation with each kiss. Given that you were staring a little too long, Giorno had turned to meet your eyes as an evident grin spread across his lips as he cups his own cheek out of embarrassment. “Is there something on my face? You look like you have something you want to say.”
“Mmm, yeah actually.” You responded back with lidded eyes as you gave his hand a small squeeze and stopped your tracks. "There’s been something I’ve been wanting to do for the longest.” You admitted as the ice cream in your hands slowly melted from the bright sun above. You continued, “If I have your permission to touch you, will you trust me?” 
"You always have my permission, you don't need to ask," Giorno reassured you with a gentle smile, his eyes watching you carefully. As you wrapped one arm around his neck, the distance between your bodies shortened, creating a more intimate atmosphere. Your cheeks were flushed, and the way he met your gaze without much of a reaction made butterflies flutter in your stomach. You felt his arm snake around your waist, and it almost seemed like he knew exactly what you had planned to do next. The anticipation and closeness between you added a thrilling suspense to the moment.
Eventually, the both of you lean in to share a passionate kiss. Much to your pleasure, his lips were soft and so were his hands as it continues to explore the rest of your body. You felt weak in the knees, your hand rested on his chest and once the two of you pulled away you were left starstruck. “Giorno...” “Shall we get going?” The question, simple and gentle, jolted you back to reality, yet the magic of the moment lingered like the afterglow of a sunset. His hand, warm and reassuring, squeezed yours. You nodded your head in response, letting the blonde lead the way as the two of you continue to enjoy the rest of your date. 
Jolyne Cujoh
Well, it was more of a dare than something that was just intended. Whenever she was in a good mood, she hardly took herself so seriously, especially when she was messing around with her friends. Though it was pretty easy to break down the tough exterior that she occasionally displays on herself. That’s just how Jolyne is and you admire her for that.
You were seated comfortably on the carpet of your apartment, surrounded by your friends and the lively energy of the gathering. The atmosphere was buzzing with excitement, fueled by the risky game you had all decided to play. With each round, bets were placed, and allowances were on the line as you wagered on the most obscure acts and challenges.
However, things took an unexpected turn when Ermes placed a cash bet on Jolyne kissing you. The room fell silent for a moment as everyone's gaze focused on you and Jolyne, the heightened tension palpable as the game appeared to have strayed into personal territory. 
“Where’d that even come from? You tryin’ to make fun of us or something?” You asked Ermes, your cheeks felt warm,
Ermes just laughed, a knowing twinkle in her eye as she observed the sudden tension between you and Jolyne. "What? Can't handle a little dare?" she teased, her grin widening at your discomfort. You couldn't help but feel a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation, especially when you caught Jolyne's eye. Her usually fierce demeanor seemed softened by the flush of embarrassment, making her look unexpectedly vulnerable.
Jolyne let out a deep breath, her gaze shifting from you to Ermes and then back again. "Fine," she finally said, the word coming out more as a challenge than a submission. She leaned closer, her eyes locked with yours, a mix of defiance and something softer you couldn't quite place. The room fell silent, the playful teasing of moments ago replaced by an almost electric anticipation. You could hear your heart beating, loud in the quiet of the room, as Jolyne's face came closer to yours. Her eyes flickered closed, and for a moment, everything else seemed to disappear.
The kiss was brief, a simple press of lips that felt like a spark through your entire body. When she pulled back, her eyes met yours again, searching for a reaction. The room erupted into whistles and laughter from Ermes and Foo Fighters, but both you and Jolyne were caught in a moment of silent communication, a question and answer passing silently between you.
Jolyne broke eye contact first, turning back to face Ermes and the others with a nonchalant shrug. "See? Just a kiss," she said, her voice steady but you noticed the slight pink still coloring her cheeks.
You were left a little dazed, warmth spreading through your chest. Although the kiss was part of the game, it felt like it carried more weight than either of you would admit. As the game continued and the evening wore on, you found yourself stealing glances at Jolyne, wondering if the moment had meant as much to her as it did to you.
Johnny Joestar
Just as he was about to join the big horse race, you had to pull him back a bit as you couldn’t help but worry about his own well being. It was a big deal, people can get way too competitive and you tend to worry over the littlest things. Of course, he had to reassure you that he was gonna be fine and that he would just have to be away for a few days, perhaps a few weeks or even months. The thought of being so far away from him already made you anxious and he noticed this, so he held your hands and looked up into your eyes. 
"I'll be fine, promise," he responded, his voice full of confidence and calmness. You wanted to believe in his statements and that he would carefully go through the challenges. You knew deep down that despite the distance and time away, he had the courage and determination to return to you.
Before you could say anything else, an obnoxiously loud horn blared, causing both you and Johnny to flinch. The announcer's voice boomed over the speakers, signaling that the horse race was about to commence. You observed Johnny, noticing how his gaze fixated on a man in a hat, attending to a horse. While you were curious about his sudden focus, you decided not to inquire and instead diverted his attention back to you.
You stretched out and cupped his cheek, gently turning his face toward you. The touch was both calming and anchoring, a gentle reminder amidst the chaos of the race. Johnny's gaze met yours, and everything else disappeared into the background. The clamor of the crowd, the excitement of the race, everything went incidental.
In the heat of the moment, you let your body take control as your brain lagged behind. You wrapped your arms around Johnny, pulling yourself closer to his pretty face and eventually your lips locked with his own. You could tell you caught him off guard with the way his body jumped but he immediately melted into the kiss.  The world around you seemed to fade into a blur, leaving just the warmth of his lips against yours and the rhythmic beating of your hearts in perfect harmony. It was a frozen moment in time, with every touch and sensation speaking volumes about your relationship.  
After the lingering kiss had finally ended, Johnny's lips retained their puckered form for a moment longer, as if trying to capture the essence of the intimate moment. His eyes remained closed, basking in the residual warmth of your embrace. It wasn't until you let out a playful giggle and lightly tapped his cheek that he snapped out of his reverie, realizing that the kiss had come to an end. Johnny's face broke into a sheepish grin as he opened his eyes, the delighted twinkle in them reflecting how deeply he had lost himself in the experience.
"Having fun there, loverboy?" you teased with a playful grin, unable to hide the amusement dancing in your eyes.
"Shut up, and kiss me again before I go for real this time," Johnny mumbled in a half-serious, half-playful tone, already leaning in with closed eyes, anticipating the next kiss. You couldn't help but roll your eyes playfully at his eagerness, knowing all too well how much he enjoyed these moments of intimacy.
Granting his wish, you leaned in closer, planting a series of small, teasing pecks on his lips. Each kiss was light and fleeting, just enough to leave him wanting more but sufficient to see the satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Josuke Higashikata (Gappy)
His embrace was overwhelmingly tight, his clinginess something you adored in him, yet you hadn't quite anticipated the sheer strength he possessed. It left you feeling somewhat overpowered, as if you were about to be compressed into nothingness. Your reaction was a series of light giggles, and although you attempted to push him away gently, it only led him to draw you closer once again. Looking down at you, Gappy gently held your face, his thumb tracing your cheekbone.
"Josuke, what's gotten into you?" you question playfully about your boyfriend, but Gappy's arms remained tightly around you. Sure, you had grown accustomed to his affection, though it may occasionally take you by surprise with its intensity. You were also aware of his memory loss and continued search for his identity and purpose. Being one of the first people he met after losing his memory, he quickly developed an emotional connection to you, which you accepted wholeheartedly. 
“You’re warm...” He muttered quietly, his fingers tracing patterns across your skin, inducing involuntary shivers. His acts toward you were noticeably compassionate, in stark contrast to his usual approach. Really, he had charisma, a natural capacity to attract those around him, as well as characteristics that made him unique. Nonetheless, he was ready to get violent at any given moment. But with you, he was someone completely different. He treated you with tenderness and care that spoke volumes, distinguishing you to be special in his eyes. It was this sharp contrast, this respite from his rougher side, that made you feel sincerely appreciated and cherished.
"Jojo..." Your words was just a whisper, a sweet utterance full of care as you softly lifted your hands, cradling his face with the utmost care.You allowed your eyes to wander over his features, memorizing each detail���the curve of his brow, the depth in his eyes, the subtle strength in his jawline.  As you leaned closer, your lips discovered the warmth of his forehead and planted a delicate kiss. With each kiss, you followed a line across his face, from his forehead to his cheek, and finished with a peck on his chin.  He reacted with a slight start to your boldness, a small but noticeable jump, yet he remained silent, his eyes speaking volumes of the surprise and warmth he felt.
You wanted to giggle, a sense of satisfaction at getting such a reaction from your boyfriend. You were about to say something witty and sharp, the words almost dancing on your tongue, eager to tease him even more. However, before you could make your smart remark, the scenario took an unexpected turn. His hands, echoing your previous move, rose to gently cup your face. The world seemed to stop for a time as his eyes fluttered shut, sending a subtle indication of his intentions.
Then, with unexpected boldness, he closed the gap between you, pushing his lips against yours in a daring kiss. His unexpected action left your eyes wide open in shock for just a second, leaving an unspoken query hanging in the air. But as the surprise wore off, a warmth flowed through you, and you found yourself easing into the kiss, your body's tension melting away as you reacted with equal passion.
Once the two of you pulled away, you were left breathless, your cheeks were warm and it was hard to really look him in the eyes after such a passionate kiss. You were at a loss for words as well, it was hard to really think about what to say next. It seemed like he was on the same page, his eyes simply looking at yours as he tried to read the expression that you had on your face. Rest assured, there was definitely going to be more kisses after that. 
Jodio Joestar
Your frustration was palpable when you stumbled upon him yet again engaged in the act of selling drugs, this time to a group of unfamiliar faces. The sight of him engaging this illicit exchange stirred a flare of anger within you, prompting you to confront him directly. Standing there, your posture rigid with your arms tightly crossed over your chest and a frown etching deep lines of disappointment across your face, you were the picture of discontent.
Jodio, seemingly unconcerned by your appearance or the dissatisfaction etched all over your face, simply snickered to himself dismissively. He nonchalantly shook a baggie full of dollar notes, flaunting the goods of his trade right in front of your eyes, all before he had a chance to properly register your presence or understand the depth of your anger.
"Again?" You couldn't help but shake your head in disbelief, a heavy sigh escaping your lips as you observed his repetitive behavior. It was a mix of frustration and disappointment that colored your expression, a silent plea for him to understand the significance of his actions. However, his response was careless, with a mere shrug that appeared to indicate a lack of regard for your issues.
"What's the big deal?" he asked, his tone tinged with casualness as he continued walking, dismissing your concerns. He passed you and headed in the direction where Dragona had parked his car. However, you were not going to let him off the hook so easily. You followed closely after him, the mean expression still engraved on your face as you gazed at his back. Your steps were deliberate, each bearing the weight of your frustration you had for him. His relaxed demeanor simply bolstered the urge to confront him and make him realize the weight of his actions that he had on you.
"What's the big deal?" For god's sake, you're a 15-year-old selling drugs to a couple of dickheads!" Your frustration spilled out in words, your voice infused with fear and exasperation. "You'll get in big trouble, and they'll take you away, and—" Before you could continue, you were interrupted by his irritatingly loud yawn. The interruption left you speechless, your eyes narrowing.  The boldness of his attitude, yawning as if your issues were nothing more than a little annoyance, was frustrating. "You're unbelievable," you said under your breath, your words filled with disappointment.
"What's unbelievable is that you care so much," he spat back, his tone defiant as he stuffed the bag of cash into his pockets. He stopped in his tracks and turned around to face you directly. "What? Cat's got your tongue? You're kinda funny," he added with a hint of sarcasm, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
Your initial instinct was to lash out, to give voice to the frustration swirling inside you. But in a split second, something shifted, and before you could fully process it, your impulses took over. Without a second thought, you grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie, pulling him closer, and pressed your lips onto his.
The kiss was impulsive, a burst of emotion that manifested in the heat of the moment. You could feel the texture of his slightly chapped lips against yours. It was a surprise even to yourself, this sudden act of intimacy amidst the tension and conflict that had defined your interaction moments ago.
“I’ll… see you around.”
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cryptfile · 2 months ago
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⨳ kinktober file 02 — victims of love, a. donaldson.
summary — you will simply not tolarate losing.
warnings — 18+ mdni, rivals to lovers, fem!reader, tension, filthy mouth, praise kink, whiny&pathetic!art, choking, pet names, p in v, masturbation, mentions of spit, blood and injuries (reader falls during a match and Art takes care of it, nothing wild), dumbification (art calls reader a loser multiple times).
side notes — this takes place before Tashi’s knee accident, it’s not important to know but whatever, english is not my first language thanks to the greater power of the universe, so any mistakes, let them be, i’m not sorry, also, like my previous file, dividers by @cafekitsune! let me know if you want to be tagged in the next kinktober file! been thinking about doing a kinktober masterlist so it’s easier for you my pretty people to look up and read whatever you want. Requests are still open at the moment!
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Fuck being a loser.
Even when the tournament is a friendly one. Stanford always do that shit, this thing to bring students together and forces everyone to participate, yet, when you find out who you’re compiting with, it’s pretty obvious you’re going for the throat, not caring if the word “friendly” is in name as there was a medal and 150$ on game.
Yes. You are competitive by heart, it’s part of your genetics now that you’re deep into this tennis world you never wanted to be a part of, Tashi made you sign up and suddenly, suddenly you take it very seriously.
You win the first match, the second, and when it comes down to the final one, you find out it’s none other than Art Donaldson the one who’s on the other side of the tennis court, bouncing the yellow ball until he’s confident enough make the first move.
By the end you’re sweaty. Visible drips of sweat even when you’re standing on the other side, running to match his stregth and game. You wanted to be pro, enjoy the luxury of a relaxed life whose only meaning is to win plays, and to finally be that, you need to beat everyone, man or woman alike as it’s not a matter of sex, but rather talent.
It does not matter if it’s a friendly tournament, it does not matter about the masses saying you’re good, it’s about the fact that you won, that you beat Art Donaldson out of all people. Tashi is a wild ride yes, she makes you work for it when you two are against each other, run to every side, get tired. Art is tension.
Competition.
There’s nothing friendly about the way he’s looking at you, like he’s not dripping in sweat like you are, making those filthy sounds he makes each time he uses force to hit the ball, enough effort on it to make him tired, utterly tired.
So when he won, your knee is already bleeding, shaking his hand in nothing but hatred as he gives you this confident smile he uses to flirt sometimes. You hate it, every second of it, hate the fact that you lose against Tashi’s friend (who you’re sure she must have fucked before cause how there’s so much unresolved tension there?) and how he’s looking at you like he just crushed you in every sense of the word, even enjoyed it while doing it so.
“Good match,” he says when everyone’s looking at your interaction with him, but you don’t say a word. Art chuckles cause he knows people like you, people who need to prove themselves over and over again. “You did a good job.”
You don’t need praising even when it does things to you. You remain professional as you shake his hand, a fast and tight shake before taking the second place. Second.
What you don’t expect is to be in that party later. The music’s loud and people are celebrating something you’re not much aware of, yet the third place greets you with the tequila as you arrive, a bronze medal on his chest as the strong, burning taste goes down your throat before you caught him out the corner of your eye.
Art Donaldson.
He loves praising so much he cannot help it when people stop and say something nice about him: A good little tournament he won? It’s not something he’s going to be proud of his life forever, but it’s enough to make him enjoy the comments about his talent as the day goes through, the medium-sized gold medal still on his neck as he walks like he owns the place. 150$ dollars richer.
Fucker.
Everything seems to be against you: Sororities aren’t your thing but you’re there, the tournament went to shit, Art was literally haunting you.
You think about leaving. You live in a small residence where everyone knows each other, so big spaces filled with as much students as they can possibly fit is not a exactly a plan for you in a friday night, not when you like to stay indoors— But Tashi’s there, your friends are there, and man, you just need to have a good time after the disaster of a day.
So instead, you shove down a shot or two. And when you’re invited to smoke some grass outside, you don’t doubt it, even when Tashi says something about training tomorrow before disappearing, you're sat in a small circle, not caring about your friend’s words as you forgot about the pressure and simply smoke oblivious to everything — Even to Art's gaze.
Fuck being pro. You were doing okay in physics, maybe you should stick to that.
So while you’re drowning in misery, Art just looks at you with a beer in the hand. You picked his interest right at the end of the game: Tashi's friend, new blood, and a fresh face after a whole semester of knowing the same people — It’s safe to say he's drawn to you like he has been with everything he liked during his life. So yeah, he caught himself staring, going back to his memories and the imprinted scene on his brain of the match you two shared before like it was something intimate everyone in the public saw, the dripping sweat falling off your skin as you throw yourself to the floor caughting the small ball when you don't care about your physical well-being anymore.
He can see the wounds on your knee still, the scraps of dry blood as you smoked weed. He knows you're abusing, abusing your limits, testing how far you can go after a hell of a mach, and Art's usually pinning after Tashi at that point, desperate to sabotage Patrick, yet that night specifically he finds himself in trouble until that very moment, that very moment that everything seemed to change all of a sudden.
Truth is Art don't know you very much. He knows Tashi got a female friend she happens to like, a breathe of fresh air as she would describe you, that you play tennis sometimes, but more than that? He's totally clueless even about your name.
It’s just,— God. He loves girls that can put him in his place. It happened with Tashi before driving him crazy with need, and it has happened now in a lame tennis court with you out of all sudden. He thinks about that look you gave him, the tension of the competition, about the fact that even when you saw him, you choose to ignore him, the silver medal you received before well hidden in the back pockets of your shorts instead of proudly display it on your chest like the thrid place did.
You’re no second place. It’s very clear.
He likes your ego, that cocky face you got when someone mentioned the match, dismissing your second place like it was nothing; and Art just stares, even when people notice he’s looking at you, he doesn’t care about being evident as he scans each and every one of your actions.
Shit, he’s been staring a long time. Your friends notice when they tell you about the cute strawberry blonde that’s been checking you out the whole night, but you, knowing who he is, just know that he’s only doing it for teasing, to make your blood boil like he did in the match.
No one’s breaking the nice bubble you made though, laughing, dancing until you’re dizzy and you need to tell one of your girls that you’re going to the bathroom real quick, plan that usual, goes incredibly catastrophic.
The door is locked and you stand outside knocking a couple of times, cursing at the time it took the person inside to get out. And it’s all very cliché when you think about it hours later, cause when the door opens and you’re so rushed, so high already, you don’t happen to notice who you’re running into.
Either way you crash into him when he comes out. Art, Art, Art fucking Art. You’re half way drunk as you would say, and he’s dead sober as he prevents you from falling, grabbing you by the arm as you lose balance.
“Careful,” he would say before noticing it’s you—. “Having trouble to keep on your feet, second place? you okay?”
The nickname stirs something in you. Boiling rage mostly as you quickly stand on your feet again, regaining the balance you lost.
“Thanks. Watch where you’re going,” you quickly reply, rolling your eyes to the back of your head—. “Gotta be careful. People are not kind as me.”
“Kind? You sure about that?” he laughs softly, looking down at you. Fucking rat. Is he mocking you? “Don’t think you were kind to me. You were nothing but the opposite.”
“Were you expecting a pat on the back and a kiss on the cheek?” you asked furrowing your brows in response, an attitude that only appears cause you lack of shame, driven by liquid courage.
“Well for starters, that could be nice” he admits, and you now understand how it ended like it was going at the moment, how he prevented you from getting into the bathroom as he puts his hand right in front of you, blocking the way inside. “Maybe a good job would do.”
You sober up really fast after that, impossible not to.
“How’s your knee?” he asks after the silence, and you notice how he’s leaning towards you, hand on the wall as he points out the wound you didn’t take care of before, too mad to disinfect it as you ignore the pain after the match: Nothing hurts more than a bruised ego. “Did you go to the infirmary?”
“It’s only a bruise, m’okay” you say, looking at your kneecap as well, the dried blood that’s still on your skin—. “Can I go in or what?”
He’s pretty confident in himself, it seems like it (or maybe it’s because he has a gold medal with a number #1 on it), yet he’s grabbing you by the waist, pushing you inside the bathroom as he closes the door behind him with the help of his foot, helping you sit on top of the sink as he looks out for the first aid kit in a bathroom that’s not his.
And you, weird enough, forget why you’re there in the first place. That you were feeling strangely dizzy, that you were going to the bathroom to stare at the mirror and wash your face to sober up, even drunk for a moment as he presses a clean towel dipped in alcohol, a weird silence as you leg tweak against the sudden pain, a reflex you cannot control.
“Do you always get so mad when you don’t get what you want?” he asks, distracting you from the burning sensation as he takes care of the wound in your kneecap—. “Never met someone that could get so passionate about a friendly tournament.”
“No,” you admit, looking at his hands. Even when the blood is dried it still hurts. His touch is gentle, warm against your skin as he touches only what he needs to be touched, keeping his left hand on your tight as he prevents you from moving involuntarily. “Don’t lose often.”
“That so?” he asks, tilting his head slightly backwards, giving you this smile as if he has a huge secret about you only he knew, like you two share confidence now that you’ve shared five minutes in a bath away from the noise. “How long you’ve been playing anyway? Haven’t see you around.”
“A while,” you find his curiosity annoying, yet you’ve been rude enough so you don’t say much, not when he’s helping you—. “Didn’t take it very serious until this semester.”
He hums. Art likes that. The fact that your brain works for something else rather than the competition, that you could talk about the fucking weather if you like and not another match, so he takes in the information in, standing between your parted legs, incredible close.
“And you’re winning don’t you?” he asks curiously. “Hoping to go pro.”
“Well, I think we all want that in the end, don’t you think?”
He doesn’t respond, not with words exactly, but he leans over the bathroom sink, body barely touching yours as he grabs the red thread hanging on the back pocket of your shorts, the one he knows it’s there cause he’s been looking at it the entire night, and you need help cause your breathing hitches on your throat for a moment: Art’s touch is soft, equal as it was when he was taking care of your wound, his fingers sliding in the back as he grabs the silver medal of the second place between his fingers.
How, the hell he smells so damn good? Since you heard he was participating in the tournament you were eager to beat him and reduce him to ashes, but now, you find yourself sniffing on his scent as he fills your nostrils with a sweet smell much like vanilla, clean.
“You should wear your medal,” the blonde says, placing it over your head—. “Let people know you’re good in what you’re doing.”
“I don’t want people to cheer over a second place,” you admit looking at the silver with disgust, too proud to let it slide. “That’s mediocre.”
He seems to thing about it for a second: “Mediocre huh? Would you be happy if we switched medals then, second place?” he asks, looking down at your face. He’s too comfortable now that you didn't pushed him away, caging you in the sink as he places a hand on each side of your legs, his weight now against the spacious marble counter—. “Is that what you want? I’ll tell everyone you beat me if that’s going to make you happy.”
“No,” Why are you even nervous? You scold yourself in your mind a couple of times, he’s looking at you with those fucking puppy eyes, glistening under the white lights of the bath as he looks at you almost pleading—. “Cause that’s not true. You won.”
“Don’t really care. I just want to put a smile on your face,” Art replies, and god, it’s getting damn hard to think at that point cause his fingers are tracing invisible patters on the sides of your legs, stupidly close as he scans your face, no shame, nothing but a pure act of lust. “Don’t want you to be mad a me, second place. Would not want us to start off on the wrong foot.”
Whatever he’s doing? It’s working. Cause when he’s taking the gold medal out of his neck to put it in yours, exchanging the silver one you hated so much with his gold? You’re sure you’re making it all up in your head.
“There,” the athlete smiles almost proud as his knuckles brushes against your chest—. “Looks better around your neck anyways.”
He caughts you off-guard. You’re no longer high, drunk, or whatever excess you’ve been through the night, and you simply dig it, a lot to be honest with yourself. Maybe it’s the fact that you lose the tournament, that you’re somehow vulnerable thanks to your ego being bruised so much, but you let it happen, let his fingers grab the skin of your tight again like its their original place cause you want him to do it, to experience his touch.
“Nobody’s going to believe me,” you blurt out, nervous enough to act like you’re normal about it, about his warm skin seeking yours—. “They all saw you win. You played good.”
“You really think that?” he’s dizzy on that cocky confidence, that boost your words give him as he smiles, his right hand caressing your cheek for a moment, losing itself in the strands of your hair moments after. “You really think I did a good job out there? Beating you?”
It’s the way he’s saying it. How he’s all desperate about it, so needy for you to admit he did good as he brushes your hair using his fingers.
“You know I do. That’s why you won, Art.”
“I swear i’ll keep the secret, loser” he chuckles lowly, breaking every rule as he pushes you to the edge of the counter. “I’ll tell everyone that you won, but you’ll still be the second place to me.”
Fucker.
You want to respond, say something sassy as well, a snarky remark at least, but Art’s pressing his forehead against yours, grabbing you by the jaw strong enough to remind you he has more force than you, but gentle enough to let you enjoy it, demanding you to look at him. Look at him like he’s been looking at you the whole damn night.
“I do, really want to kiss you right now, second place” he admits close to you, gaze travelling to your pumped lips as his eyes take in the details, the pink shade mixed with a transparent lip gloss that only seems to invite him, to make a mess with it, dissapear at its finest. “It’s burning me alive.”
He waits for any sign of permission, and you try to think reasons to say no. Any motive to say no to him, but instead you simply chuckle, back against the wall, trapped in this atmosphere he so easily created: There’s no human way possible to say no cause to be brutally honest, you want it too.
He’s hot. he's handsome in a way you cannot stop thinking about so when he's kissing you? You have no complains. You let him be needy, let him touch you like an anguished men, like he encountered a glass of water after a long walk in the dessert. The kiss it's all teeth and bite — It's fast, messy, demanding and wet. He's grabbing you by the medal, tugging on the gold circle just to make you lean towards him, fingers now caressing on the skin of your throat now as he deepen the kiss, not even waiting for permission as he slides his tongue in, wanting more.
"So you wear my medal and i'll wear yours" his breathing collides against your skin soon after, planting kisses on the crook of your neck, drawn by your smell of peaches, the softness of your skin. "Say it, please say you'll do it."
Each second becomes a torture, a cruel joke when you were so invested in winning, something you don't care about now, that seems to be far from your interests as he squeezes the skin of your tight, toying with the hem of your shirt, the cotton fabric of your black t-shirt that only annoys him as he touches your stomach, the sweet intimacy he's been craving since the morning.
"I'll do it," you nod for a second—. "But you have to be convincing. Don't make me look like a fool."
"How could I?" he asks, utterly curious as he stops for a second to look at you. "You're a winner, anyone can tell."
It makes your blood rush. His words seems to hit the jackpot, cause your shirt's falling the floor, the door's being closed with lock, and suddenly, the air is hot, the only sound that filled the bathroom of the sorority being his kisses, your labored breathing as you forgot about the rest of the party.
It's not something you'd usually do, the rush of something so sporadic, so inconsistent, but you love the adrenaline, the touch of his hands, the electricity being poured down your spine.
"Nobody would even dare to think you're in reality a loser" he says, praising once again in his own way as he places a soft kiss on your lips, looking down at your hands now, fingers interwined now in his jeans. More. You want more. “A really hot second place.”
Your touch is getting more eager now, and as you unbuckle his pants, he's fucking whimpering, his hips moving in need for the friction the palm of your hand can offer, taunting him for a second before he's pulling down on his own underwear himself, the blue fabric of his jeans falling halfway over his tights.
Your hand leaves his body for a second, and he's ready to beg for more until he notices what you're really doing, a large amount of spit going into your hand in what Art could swear is the most erotic act he has ever seen, traces of drool on in your chin before your fingers finally hug his already hard cock.
Soon he's fucking your fist, burying his head in your neck, moaning and pleading you to keep on going, moving his hips fast enough to create a delicious sound you thrive on, ones that mixes damn well in the air. He's slightly sweaty, not like he was in the game, but enough to create this nice smell it only makes you addicted.
"Don't cum," you ask, and it's a lot when his movements are becoming more erratic at the time passes, incoherent words of praise and need as he bites on your neck—. "Art. Don't cum on my hand."
Fuck that.
His touch becomes desperate after that. The medal of the first place still on your bare chest, your black bra slightly up as he’s been touching you, rolling your nipple between his fingers, your skin almost glowing beneath the bathroom lights: He needs you more than what's actually possible, tugging on the button of your shorts, annoyed with the piece of fabric as he takes it off, the time it took to undress you being valuable time he simply doesn't want to waste.
"Are you comfortable?" he asks, making sure for a second you're okay, nodding in response before he grabs you by the hips only to push you in the position he wanted, finally throwing the damn shorts you're wearing to the floor before spreading your legs open, positioning himself in the middle. "God, you're such a fucking sight."
His voice is rough now, and that nice look on his face, that fucking rat smile, friendly even, is far erased from his lips now as he grabs his dick, pushing it between your folds without really fucking you, and the act is enough to make you moan when he’s moving his hips in a cruel pace, the tip of his cock leaking already against you clit. He’s fucking his own fist, your already dripping cunt making it easier for Art to slide as he wants to.
He spits, and it’s a crime cause nobody looks good while doing so, the trails of saliva that leaves his mouth land on his dick, coating your cunt before slightly pushing it inside with the help of his fingers, finally offering what you trully need—. And you feel him, inch by inch. When his fingers are grabbing you by the waist to keep you in place, pushing slowly until he’s deep inside, placing sloppy kisses all over your neck as you moan in response.
Art swears he’s in heaven. Invaded by an intense bliss as he began to move. The second place medal hits his torso, colliding against yours as he moves, and his left hand moves to grab a fistful of your hair just to pull it backwards, making your head follow the motion — He’s relentless, moving in a slow pace at first before gaining rythm, but shit. You’d lie if you didn’t say he knew what he was doing when his right thumb moves in circles over your swollen clit.
It’s hard to hate Art Donaldson like that. All whiny and pathetic, mumbling words about how warm your pussy is, how tight you feel, wet for him. It’s hard giving a fuck about the competition when he’s leaving your hair alone to instead grab the thread of the medal you’re wearing, the red ribbon that was on his neck before and now is hanging on yours, angling the medal so the thread is now choking you, pulling on the gold slightly to make it harder to breathe.
“C’mon, loser” he says with a cocky smile, looking down where his cock is, stretching you out to his liking with each thrust. “D’you feel that? How good your pretty pussy is taking me? That’s first place material there, champion material.”
You nod a couple of times, too fucked-out to function. Lewd sounds fill out the room after, the moans, the grunts, the coils of pleasure that started to form in the lower part of your belly, fueled by his rough movements now, leaving that soft touch behind to replace it with force, fingers digging on your skin so hard he’s sure it’s going to leave a mark behind.
Fuck it. Fuck the game, fuck second place. Your head hits the mirror behind the sink, yet it means nothing as you can feel the orgasm being poured all over by the minutes, the insane punch as he keeps on going, hitting that nice spot in an inconsistant pace as you come undone.
“God that’s it,” he says, pulling on the medal until your skin is changing fucking colors—. “That’s it, cum,” he demands. “Taking my cock like a fucking champion.”
He cums soon after you, pulling out as it lands on your stomach, the gold medal thats now resting on your belly stained with his cum.
And he melts in top of you for a second, breathing heavily against your neck, body covered in sweat before blushing slightly embarassed about the mess he did.
Weird enough, only one thought appears on his mind after five minutes: Just wait until you meet Patrick.
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previous kinktober file [ dean winchester ] // masterlist
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tritoch · 7 months ago
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i know a lot of people (very understandably) dislike the paladin job quests in ffxiv, particularly HW, but i do think it's fun that, now that the pre-ShB MSQ revamp is complete, paladins now have a very cool and thematic in-game storyline that happens without a word being spoken: the development of passage of arms.
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none of the below is directly stated in the script, but imo it's a fairly obvious gloss on what the game presents, if you assume a paladin warrior of light. spoilers for all expansions through the end of 6.X.
in the new version of steps of faith, as vishap breaks through each ward protecting ishgard from attack, lucia mounts a final desperate effort to hold him back, with a very familiar looking animation:
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but even lucia can't hold back vishap's flame alone, so the temple knights surge forward to assist her. their efforts make the shield visually more powerful and larger. the temple knights here band together in defense of ishgard, and their knightly resolve to protect their home is the difference between victory and defeat.
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lucia and the knights do ultimately succeed in defending the last ward, as you have to defeat vishap before their shield falls or you lose.
later in heavensward, obviously, we will get ffxiv's most famous (failed) attempt at blocking something with a shield.
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this moment can be read as fairly impactful on the warrior of light's development; as i've noted elsewhere, after the trauma of watching haurchefant bleed out in their arms at level 57, at level 58 paladins learn to channel their magic into healing (and it's called "clemency," or mercy. mercy for whom? who was guilty?), and as someone pointed out on that post, at level 58 dark knights used to get "sole survivor", letting them heal in response to a marked target's death.
for a time, you literally carry haurchefant's shield with you, and 3.3 very much literalizes in genre fashion the idea that even when you are standing alone, your fallen friends stand with you. you don't need to call any allies to stand at your side and raise their shields with you because they are already there, in spirit.
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stormblood marks a pretty important turning point in the warrior of light as a combatant, in my opinion, and the text makes this clear in several ways. first, in pretty much all your jobs, you've now far exceeded your trainers and are pioneering new techniques. this is no less true of paladin, which for 60-70 abandons any trainers at all for you to show off your peerless skills in a tournament.
second, stormblood is straight up a story about you getting stronger. at level 61, zenos kicks your ass. at level 70, you kick his ass. why? because you fought and got stronger and developed incredible new techniques and became a one-man army.
for a lot of classes, this story lines up nicely with the big rotation changes or flashy new finishers on the way from 60 to 70. SMN is now busting out bahamut and casting akh morn; RDM gets verflare and verholy; DRG starts harnessing nidhogg's power directly through dragon sight and nastrond.
the tanks are divided in two: warriors and gunbreakers get huge damaging upgrades at 70 in the form of inner release and continuation, each of which lets them hit the same button many times for lots of damage and satisfying animations. paladin and dark knight get more protective abilities; dark knight gets the blackest night, and there's been plenty said about that already by pretty much everyone.
paladins get passage of arms. instead of a relentless new attack (and you get requiescat at 68, which is a way bigger deal for your dps rotation), your big reveal at 70 for zenos in your fight in ala mhigo is a superior way to protect your party, a shield that lets you stand for your allies so they never have to fall for you again. it's lucia's same shield, except you need no allies' shields to reinforce you, proof of your martial prowess and your ability to transcend limits, and perhaps in truth a reminder that you never really stand alone.
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in many respects passage of arms should really feel like a paladin signature move to you now if you are playing it at this point, because you should be popping it in pretty much every fight (you are using your mits, right...?). basically every FFXIV fight has at least one big AOE with downtime that warrants passage of arms usage, usually after the mid-fight add phase with slowly filling bar. since that AOE usually drops during downtime, there's no reason not to pop passage of arms (which otherwise restricts your movement and actions), and even on normal, sometimes every little bit counts on a damage check even if it means dropping DPS (thinking here of harrowing hell P10N on release, which was...less consistent for a lot of roulette parties than you might hope).
so from 70 onward, passage of arms is in a sense a paladin warrior of light's signature move, and certainly the one a player gets to most actually enjoy (since if you're using it, you're by necessity not doing anything besides moving your camera and admiring your sick animation). it doesn't have any competition in terms of spectacle until confiteor, and those you're usually throwing out in the middle of movement.
it's such a signature, in fact, that the only other person shown using your one-person version of passage of arms is your greatest admirer, who studied your legend for over a century.
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and it's when he fails (should've popped arm's length, bud) that the warrior of light decides they can't let their friends fall for them, and sends them away with the transporter beacon. this is all wrong: you were meant to die for them, not the other way around. yours is the shield that stands between your allies and defeat. it is you who will win this passage of arms and break your opponents lance. and you do.
and then later, when they need to quickly establish zero's domain as a place of fallen grandeur, the home of someone who once believed in heroes but is now a cool and cynical vampire hunter d, what do they use? a decayed statue of someone in the paladin endwalker gear doing the passage of arms animation, of course.
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from a visible instantiation of knighthood as a joint effort to defend what is sacred, to a tribute to the fallen friends whose memories stand by you and animate you, to a symbol of the wol's power as emulated by their allies or darkly mirrored in other shards.
not bad for a mit button you hit once per fight and otherwise never think about!
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mochinomnoms · 4 months ago
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How would ptm jade react if Yuu told him about marine mushrooms?
I only know what wikipedia knows about marine mushrooms...unfortunately for yuu mind reading doesn't give them sudden infinite knowledge!
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“You know, with as much as you...like mushrooms and stuff, I'm surprised you haven't mentioned anything about marine fungi.”
You felt a chill run down your spine and Jade's bi-colored eyes on you.
“Pardon?” Does my darling also love fungi? How could I have not known this?
You shifted in your seat, staring down at your notebook as you doodles between the margins. A small button mushroom that you'd absentmindedly drawn minded you of Jade.
And you just happened to be doing research with him for your group project in the library this day.
“Sorry, I just was thinking about it, and it's just surprising to me that you never had, like an aquarium type terrarium or something with them.”
You let out a nervous laugh, after all, it was just you two by yourselves. Riddle and Yev were busy with their dorms due to the Spelldrive Tournament, and your dorm still didn't technically qualify, since all your freshmen were officially in other dorms.
Such a wonderful laugh, I'd like to hear it more...
“Well, to my knowledge, they don't exist.” Jade leaned in, his eyes wide and full of excitement. “By chance, do such mushrooms exist in your world?”
Please tell me more! Tell me lies for all I care, so I may hear your voice...though you wouldn't lie about such things, would you?
You perked up. It was rare that you knew something Jade, or anyone at NRC, had no clue about. It probably wasn't intentional, but the way people would look at you when you had no clue about something make you feel dumb, even though you logically had no way of knowing even the most basic things of this world.
It was kinda nice to be the one to share knowledge with another person.
“Well, I don't know a lot, but they mostly exist in marine environments. I think a few hundred?” You leaned in closer, moving your notebook towards Jade as you started drawing again.
“I can't remember their names very well, but I've always been a more visual person anyways.” You drew a piece of driftwood, a snail, and a rock covered in lichen.
“This one grows in mangroves, usually on the places. But this one grows around the shell of a snail, who eats it. And sometimes lichen will grow with fungi, but I don't know a whole lot about them.”
You paused, pursing your lips in disappointment.
“Sorry, I don't know enough to tell you about them, I know how much you...”
Your words trailed off as you looked back up at Jade, who was resting his check against his palm. He was staring at you with faint smile, and soft, half lidded eyes and pink cheeks.
So beautiful...
Cheeks and chest going hot, you stared back, opening and closing your mouth as you tried to figure out how to respond.
“Uh, Jade, you're, uh, staring...”
Jade stiffened, straightening up and covering his mouth in embarrassment.
“My apologies. I was just....enraptured by your descriptions.” And you. “I don't mind that you aren't familiar, but I would like to heard more from you about marine fungi. Perhaps you can tell me all about your world's plant life? It never occurred to me that your world would evolve differently, but saying that now, it seems obvious.”
He smiled at you again, his teeth showing a bit more as he excitedly leaned in.
“You struggle in musicology, yes? Perhaps in exchange for your knowledge, I can help you with practice?”
Please say yes!
You paused. Various suggestive scenarios that seem more apt for a risqué site or story flashed through Jade's mind in giddy anticipation.
You know better. You know what Jade's hoping for. You shouldn't string him along, you're going to get embarrassed. You're going to get uncomfortable, you're...
Another daydream, one of you two curled over a book, as you leaned into Jade's side while his arm pulled you closer, invaded your mind like a parasite in your brain. He had a tender smile as you laughed at something he said, your free hand reached up to cradle his cheek.
Maybe parasite is a harsh word. When the thoughts Jade had were so sweet and soft, it almost made you want to give in.
Almost.
“It's okay, I'm just a choir member, so there's not much for me to improve on.” You could hear your more logical voice sigh in the back of your mind. “But I'm happy to share...if you help me figure out if the mushrooms growing behind Ramshackle are edible.”
I'm weak…
Jade blinked, processing what you said.
Really? “Really?” Even Jade seemed like he was anticipating your rejection.
“Yeah, why not.” You shrugged, Jade's internal excitement flooding into your subconscious and influencing your own emotions. “Means less money to spend on food, and I'm sure you know plenty of yummy recipes we can use if they do end up good!”
Jade rarely smiled, at least not genuine, bare-teethed smiles. Despite the sharpness of them, you weren't put off by them, or him, at all.
“I would be honored.”
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shakethediseeas · 6 months ago
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A mother-type yn in alien stage who's very gentle with every human even if they're a weird(?) (It's luka) in a scenario where they sacrifice themself for the other (very original in alst i know) would be very !!! If they have some kind of lullaby they used to sings for everyone that they hum a tune of it in their last breath, smiling.
ALST CHARACTERS WITH A PARENT-FRIEND READER
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You just always had to put others before yourself, huh?
I mean, knowing you, it shouldn't have been a surprise; they should have seen this coming.
But now seeing it happen, you, lifeless on the floor... It's hard to forget. The caring smile on your face, even though you knew you were going to die, you don't care as long as they're safe.
You were the oldest of them all so naturally without even knowing, you cared for them as if they were your family.
You'd teach Mizi, Till and Sua how to make some arts and crafts while watching over Luka who was running from Hyuna.
"Luka... careful! dont pull her!" you softly scold.
It was easy for you to grow on them because they didn't really have parental figures, you were the best moment of their lives.
It took you a while to grow on Ivan, though. After you did, he would always hold your hand, watching the rest with a blank face while you continued talking to him about anything.
Every night, when one of them struggled to fall asleep, you'd make them all gather around in a circle while you sang to them; this time, it was Till who couldn't sleep, so he got to rest his head on your lap while you caressed his head. It always worked.
You'd do anything for them, that much was obvious. When one of them was in trouble you'd go to hell and back just for their sake. You fought for Till. You almost lost your life helping Ivan with Till so they could escape...
You didn't say a word after they came back.
Hyuna would always try to impress you, give you gifts and try to act cool around you, you'd laugh and go along with it. She admires you a lot, you're so composed in any situation and you rush into danger just for the people you care about. She wants to be like that.
Luka... He was...
There is no real way to describe him. He's very smart, but he's quiet and dissociates a lot. You're always there to comfort him and sing softly to him while he hugs you mindlessly.
You had given him a small puzzle for you and him to solve, you went away for a minute and it was already completed. So , you always made more challenging ones everytime. He really appreciated that.
For till , you got him a guitar made of whatever you could, you'd tune it for him and hed smile with beaming eyes at you and always showed you the songs he'd write.
When you got older, you were forced to participate before them, and in your second tournament, you were forced to go up against...
At first, they almost downright refused to participate in the round. upset but they didn't show it. Hesitation as they sing and angry when they see you don't even bother to try.
their eyes widen when you go to sing the sweet melody you played for them, legs weak and they stutter out the lyrics.
You give them a bright smile before everything goes black.
They promised you that they would survive just for you.
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bellawoso · 8 months ago
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sweet
aitana bonmati x f!reader
summary: in which your girlfriend cant help but make your secret relationship painfully obvious while giving you heart eyes throughout a training session and her jealousy in el clasico.
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you and aitana had been together for around two and a half years now, meeting at the arsenal vs barcelona game where you managed to score a goal after getting past the brunette midfielder, she was impressed and came up to you after the game for a shirt swap.
later that night, you were surprised when the catalan also followed you, you were quick to follow her back and send a simple ‘hola’ to her, who engaged in a conversation with you immediately.
after messaging for a while and meeting up a few times, flying to each others countries, and multiple dates, the brunette asked you to be her girlfriend.
at first you were both afraid of the long distance, however you both managed and comforted each other after spain being knocked out of the euros, and englands loss at the world cup.
your and aitanas relationship was very strong, and although you had your arguments, you both made sure to never go to sleep angry with each other.
the relationship was never meant to be a secret, but with you two being in separate countries and playing for different teams, it made it hard for the two of you to be spotted with each other.
you were a great midfielder, you put a lot of effort in at training, constantly trying to better yourself. equally, with your girlfriend being one of the greatest female footballers in the world right now, and her also loving to watch your matches, she usually helped you with your match analysis, and told you what you could work on.
these were main reasons why you had ended up on barcelonas radar, your contract with arsenal was coming to an end, it was a great team and you had made so many special memories there, but you knew that you needed a change.
you had secretly been wanting to put an end to the long distance, and although she hadnt voiced it, you knew your girlfriend did too.
so when you and your manager were looking at potential new teams, and he mentioned barcelona, you took an interest in the blue and red team straight away.
the process of changing teams was daunting, there were many ups and downs and times that it looked like the contract would fall through.
as much as you wanted to confide in your loving girlfriend, who would no doubt put in a good word for you, which would make the process so much easier, you wanted to suprise her.
when you broke the news to your current teammates, they were sad but also happy for you, you deserved this and they knew it was a massive opportunity that would no doubt make you a better player.
you flew over to barcelona to finalise the signing of your contract and went through the media process of photos and little interviews for their channels.
however, in your hurry to not miss your flight, you forgot to tell them that you were surprising people that you knew from the squad with your new arrival.
you were at home packing your belongings ready for the flight next morning when barcelona had an afternoon training session, in your defense you had no idea that the barcelona media team were going to do a photodump with your new photos, and release all of the videos.
after seeing barcelona release their content of you, arsenal media team also released all of their goodbye content for you.
these sudden events combined with the fact no one suspected barcelona were interested in you, and that you were quite well known to people due to your multiple media involvements with englands youtube account and being named player of the tournament after winning the euros, left you somehow trending on twitter.
———
as much as lucy liked to believe she had accustomed to spains heat, she was yet to admit that she needed a lot more drink breaks than her teammates that were brought up in the spanish sun.
so when she was getting her drink, she couldnt help but notice the frequent notifications coming from her phone, usually this only happened it there was a major event going on so it immediately grasped her interest.
keira had also decided to have a break, seeing as lucy was also having one it meant she wouldnt be made fun of for her intolerance of the warm conditions by the english defender.
however when she walked over to lucy, she couldnt help but notice the older woman staring at her phone in complete shock, the midfielder knew it took a lot to shock lucy, so straight away she asked her what happened.
“y/n is coming”
“oh to spain? she visits often, why are you so shocked?” keira teased at the brunette.
“no to barcelona!” lucy retorted.
“yes lucy, barcelona, spain, same thing, either way she comes to visit us, is the heat getting to you that much?”
“kei- no!” lucy said exasperatedly, “shes moving from arsenal!”
“what?! let me see!” however keira did not leave room for arguments, as she was quick to grab lucys phone out of her hands and see the flurry of posts that lucy had been tagged in asking for her opinion of the move.
the rest of the team had also been sent for a drink break, signifying the end of training, so aitana was quick to run and jump on her bestfriends back, ready to make fun of her for having to finish early.
however to her dismay, keira was quick to shove her off, “one second aita!”
“what so a phone is more important than me” as she huffed in fake annoyance.
to everyones suprise, keira seemingly ignored aitana, and instead turned to lucy “i still cant believe it, i had no idea they were interested in her!”
“well she is pretty good, she will strengthen our midfield even more”
most of the team were confused now, with ona questioning “who? is someone joining the team?”
lucy answered her “yeah, y/n? if you remember at the manchester derby, she played for city when you were at united i think?”
“ohh yeah, i remember! very good, she is good!” ona replied.
whilst the rest of the team all talked about your future arrival, aitana walked back to the changing room silent, keira was shocked by her bestfriends unusual silence, and mistook her shock for sadness.
“dont worry aita, your still my number 1, okay? i will probably partner with her for the first few sessions as she will be new to everyone and the language, but inly until she makes new friends!”
hearing that keira planned on partnering with you managed to wake aitana from her daze, and the catalan was quick to dismiss keiras words “no, no keira, i can partner with her! if you dont mind that is, we can then get used to each others playing, right?”
amusement was evident all over keiras face, aitanas rambling showed a small crush on keiras fellow lioness “if you insist aita”.
———
the barcelona media team decided to document your first training session, your arrival resulted in many new followers for the team, with many english fans asking for content of you with the team.
as promised, aitana partnered with you in everything, she was still not over the fact that you were actually here.
her reaction a few days ago of seeing you standing sheepishly at her door the next morning of the training session with all your suitcases was memorable, and it felt as if you two were still in the honeymoon stage of your relationship despite being together for over 2 years.
you two planned on letting the team find out about your relationship when they realised, however aitana seemed to be making it very easy for them with the constant heart eyes she had been giving you this training session, it not helping that the whole world could see it if they just clicked on barcelonas channel.
she had already been hit on the head with the ball twice this session for not paying attention, and couldnt manage to keep possession of the ball when she saw you laughing with keira and lucy.
that was until you noticed your girlfriends flustered state as you were put on the same team in a mini match and quickly whispered to her “come on tana, focus okay? just like we practiced” you knew if she carried on like this, she may not be put in the starting 11 for el clasico.
aitana only nodded at your words and tried to focus, which payed off as she wouldnt be surprised if that was the best she had ever played, the rest of the team and even the coaches were impressed with you two, resulting in you both being chosen for the starting 11 for el clasico.
sadly, just like keira, the rest of the team mistook your relationship for aitana having a crush on you, and many of the players wanted to speed up the process of you two getting together.
pina and patri decided to do this at a very bad time: the day before el clasico.
it was a simple white lie they told to aitana that misa rodriguez planned on asking for your number after the game, and the true purpose of telling her was so that she could ask you out before the match.
obviously that wouldnt happen as aitana was going home to you that night, however when you noticed her grumpy state and asked her about it, the midfielder only brushed you off saying she was tired.
you narrowed it down to being nervous, although you had no idea why, due to barcelonas constant winning streak you knew that real madrid didnt stand a chance.
you knew she wasnt angry at you when that night she was quick to wrap her arms round your waist when you slipped into bed with her, and she tiredly mumbled “t’estimo” into your ear, and kissed your cheek.
———
when you woke up, aitana was not next to you. confused, you made your way downstairs to see your girlfriend doing match analysis.
“aita, although match analysis is important, your sleep is more important for a good game, okay?” you said whilst rubbing her shoulders.
she only nodded in response, and from then on she was distant whilst getting ready and all the way up until you were about to go through the tunnel to begin the match.
you decided that you had enough, and quickly grabbed her hands to confront her about her unusual behaviour, “have i upset you tana, why are you ignoring me?” you questioned warily, not wanting to upset the brunette even more.
seeing you look so small in front of her, unknowing if you had upset her pulled on aitanas heartstrings, and a wave if guilt washed over her, she hadnt realised that her jealousy had also affected you already.
she was quick to reassure you that you had done nothing wrong, with a quick peck to your lips and a whispered “te amo” you felt better going into the match knowing you and your girlfriend were on good terms.
so far the match was going well, just before the whistle for half time barcelona were already two nil over madrid, to your surprise both goals were courtesy of your girlfriend who you knew much preferred assisting a goal than scoring.
barcelona had been awarded a corner, and as you made your way in to the box, you felt a familiar pair of hands grab at your waist, and a whispered “your playing so well” you hoped the growing red blush to your cheeks were mistook as evidence of you running round the pitch for almost 45 minutes.
as alexia kicked the ball, you noticed it coming straight in front of you, however as you tried to run into the ball to try shoot, it seemed misa had dived at the same time, successfully grabbing the ball, but also managing to flip you over her too.
aitana saw red when she saw you laying on the floor, with misa towering over you and offering you a hand. she shoved her national teammate out of the way, and bent down to check if you were okay, before helping you up and giving you an encouraging pat on the back as she spoke in your ear “lets get you a goal, okay bebita?”
however, she gave you no chance to reply as she had already sprinted to keira after hearing the whistle for half time, this seemed to have been the wring thing to do though, as pina and patri went up to her and teased her about leaving her girl alone. aitana only rolled her eyes, until pina shrieked “aita! shes actually doing it! misa is talking to y/n!”
aitana turned around so fast, the girls wouldnt be surprised if she gave herself whiplash, however they werent able to make fun of her for it as aitana had already started running back to you with a scowl on her face.
misa had innocently come up to you after aitana left to apologise for knocking you over, you hastily brushed off her apology and said you would get your revenge on her by scoring, which made the taller girl chuckle and wrap an arm around your shoulders.
this action only made your girlfriend run faster, to grab your arm and pull you away, shouting to misa that you were needed in the locker room.
you raised your eyebrow at your girlfriends antics, and she defended herself quickly “she shouldnt be touching you like that amor!”
“she was only apologising tana!”
aitana only huffed and began to walk away, before realising that leaving you alone was the wrong thing to do, and turned around to grab your arm and drag you into the locker room.
as soon as you both entered, aitana took to ignoring you again, at this point you realised that she had been jealous, and you had already formulated a plan to add fuel to the fire.
as she promised, aitana assisted you of a goal, and scored two more of her own, however only you, pina, and patri knew about the true reason of her assault on misas ego today.
as the whistle went for full time, many of your teammates including aitana went to celebrate, you however went with patri to console misa, who was extremely irritated by the 5 goals she had let in.
to patris amusement, you also requested to swap shirts with the goalkeeper, who agreed and also pulled you into a hug.
your girlfriend only wanted to celebrate the win with you, who was currently no where to be seen, but hearing patri shout pina caught the catalans attention, quickly glancing over where patri was, she was meg with a sight that made her want to kick a ball straight at misas face.
you, in misas jersey, with misas arms wrapped around your torso, and misas stupid voice whispering in your ear.
once again, aitana scolded herself internally for leaving you alone, and sprinted over to you, picked you up out of misas grasp and carried you back to the group.
“i hate this jersey on you mi amor!” aitana pouted.
“what? i love it, and look at the back!” you exclaimed playfully, as you turned around to reveal misas name on your back, making aitana groan in annoyance, much to your teammates amusement.
aitanas impulses got the better of her, as she quickly manhandled the jersey off you, took of hers and put that on you instead “much better, i like it more than the madrid one, dont you bebita?” aitana asked teasingly, and you couldnt help but laugh at her jealousy.
“seeing as everyone can already see you with my name on your back, im sure they have already figured it out, right amor?” the brunette questioned, a daring smile on her face as she glanced at your lips.
“aita- i dont know, everyone can see!”
“let them” she whispered as she pulled you in for a bruising kiss, only pulling away when you were both desperate for air.
except as you broke apart, you werent sure if it was to reveal your relationship to the world. or to prove to a certain goalkeeper, who had coincidentally been standing behind you when aitana kissed you, who you belonged to.
either way, you suffered the consequences of aitanas actions on the bus home, when you were subjected to your teammates teasing, and much to your annoyance aitana had seemed to get out of the situation unscathed.
either way, the internet was definitely going crazy.
———
barcaupdates
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liked by user1, user2 and 16,597 others
aitana bonmati and y/n y/ln kissed after the el clasico 5-0 win against ream madrid, and aitana was seen switching the ‘misa’ jersey y/n wore for hers
comments:
user1: a bit of a coincidence that aitana kissed in front of misa right??
user2: did anyone else pina and patri laughing in the backgroud??
user3: they are such a cute couple, and so good in midfield today, aitana scoring 4 goals is crazy!
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222col · 4 months ago
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sugardaddy!art is completely devoted to you, as are you to him, until a dm from patrick lights up your phone late one night | 18+
it was tashi who introduced you two, at some adidas party. she'd met with you the day before, pitching the idea of forming some kind of relationship with her husband. she admitted that she knew he needed more than her, he needed intimacy, attention, devotion. things she wasn't capable of giving, her focus was on his tennis and recovery. art was attractive, and successful, you were considering. tashi explained that in return for your devotion to her husband, the two of you would supply you with anything you wanted. "so, i'd be his sugarbaby?" you questioned her. she simply shook her head. "you'd look after his needs, while we looked after yours."
she introduced you to her husband, "this is the girl we talked about." he had followed you on instagram the night before, so you imagined tashi had shown it to him after your conversation. she leaves the two of you alone. you're younger than him, much smaller in frame, you can feel the power he has over you. but he strokes your arm lightly, telling you he can't wait to get to know you better.
art falls head over heels for you, you see him nearly every day. always giving him every ounce of attention he craves. it's not hard, he's beautiful, funny, always doting on you, complimenting everything about you. he fucks you like the world stops moving once he's inside you. you're like oxygen to him, he can't really breath until he's with you. art and tashi sleep in separate rooms, as months go by, you start staying over. occasionally bumping into tashi the next morning, she always greets you with a smile and thanks you for looking after her husband. the dynamic is strange, but it works.
art kept you very private, away from his fast paced life in tennis. he followed your instagram, sure, but you were a sportswear model. who's to suspect anything strange about a professional tennis player following a sportswear model. it's a year into you and art's relationship that patrick follows you on instagram. you knew he and patrick had patched up their friendship, since they played each other in a challenger somewhere in new york, some nine months ago. but still, you can't imagine art ever mentioning you to anyone other than his wife. one, for the sake of his public image, but two, he'd never want to share you. he always asks you if you go on dates in your time away from him, but always reassuring him that you don't. "i'm yours art, i don't want anyone else."
stalking patrick's instagram, alone in your apartment, payed for by art, you see how much he's turned his life around since playing in that new york challenger. art had mentioned that patrick wasn't reaching his full potential while they weren't on speaking terms. but now he's playing in big tournaments, winning them and earning his reputation back. that's obvious by his instagram, he's travelling the world, in style. you see the notification of him liking one of your posts, as you swipe through his. no, this is bad, you think. another notification, a message this time. shit. you have to tell art. does he already know? has he told patrick about the relationship you share? it's late, you know art has a match tomorrow, you decide not to call him.
patrick's messages are flirty, you can't work out what he knows, if he knows. you flirt back. you know it's wrong, but you do it. you think about art's pout as you tell him you're flirting with his best friend when you're sworn to him. you wipe that thought from your brain, reading the messages patrick is sending you. he's in your city for a tournament, you question how he knows what city you live in, it's in your bio, he responds. oh, yeah.
what are you doing right now?
fuck. fuck. shit. it's 10pm, you're still dolled up from the dinner art took you to. you look back at your phone.
wanna meet me for a drink? there's a nice bar at my hotel.
he sends you the address, it's only two blocks from your apartment. your feet are moving you off the couch, discarding of your robe, the dress art instructed you to wear to dinner still gowns your body.
be there in 15.
why the fuck did you do that, you think, reapplying your lipstick. your mind is running a mile a minute. you slip your heels back on, grabbing your handbag and locking your apartment door behind you. art. patrick. art. fuck, you can't stop thinking about art. you still don't know if patrick knows, but you can't ask because then he'll definitely know. you haven't been with anyone else since the day you met art, it would break him knowing you're going for drinks with another man. let alone with patrick. you collect yourself as you arrive outside the hotel, you'd been here with art. you didn't recognise the name, art always books the rooms. you stayed here with him the night before he signed the lease to your apartment.
walking towards the bar, you remember the way, patrick is perched on the end of the bar. he smirks when he sees you, you smile and walk over to him. standing to greet you, he kisses your cheek, "glad you could join me, i was getting lonely." he's in a white button down and jeans. "glad i could be of service then." you flirt, sitting on the stool next to his. your knees touching his as he orders you a glass of wine. "there's no way you got this dolled up in 15 minutes, sweetheart," the bartender places your wine down next to you. taking a sip and giggling. "no, of course, i'd only been home an hour when you messaged me, i went out to dinner and hadn't gotten changed yet." patrick is leaning towards you, like he's trying to read you.
"you're telling me, you went on a date, came home, then came to meet me? that's hot." patrick laughs into his beer. "no, no, it wasn't a date," you lie, art would cry if he heard you say that. "it was just dinner with a friend." patrick doesn't really believe you, but he doesn't push. "so, you're in town for the tennis tournament?" you question, sipping your wine. "yeah, i play my first game the day after tomorrow." you know it's the same tournament art is playing in. "i was actually going to stay at a friends place who lives near by, but boy am i glad i didn't now." his hand lands on your exposed thigh. fuck, he must mean art. you don't even realise you're leaning in closer to patrick. "me too," he just smiles at you, drawing circles on your skin.
you come to the conclusion that he doesn't know a thing about your relationship with art, the most he could know was that art followed your instagram, he will have seen when he followed you himself. you don't know how it happens, but after a few more glasses of wine and flirting, patrick's lips crash onto yours. they're not as soft as art's, he doesn't have the same respect for you to wait for you to open your mouth to push his tongue in. his hand is moving further up your thigh, pulling away from the kiss. "what'd say? wanna fuck a famous tennis star?" he whispers in your ear, he's so fucking arrogant. another famous tennis star, you think. you can't resist him, he's so different to art. art cares so deeply for you, touches you so softly, asks if you're okay. patrick is cocky, only sees you as a girl to add to his list. you can't say no, you know you should but you can't. all you can do is look up at him through your lashes and nod.
he fucks you from behind, ripping your dress off your body as he pounds into you. you'll feel guilty about that tomorrow, art loved that dress. he spanks you repeatedly, he doesn't care that it hurts, he just cares about getting himself off. he flips you over, holding your ankles and pushing your legs close to your head as he keeps fucking you. your fresh set of nails dig into the skin of his thighs, nails moving to his back once he drops your legs down. you scratch the length of his spine, he winces with a smile on his face when he realises you've drawn blood. he spits in your mouth, slaps your face, its animalistic. he pulls out and finishes all over your stomach, he doesn't care that you didn't finish. he collapses beside you, instinctively you start kissing and caressing the marks you left on his body. kissing every bite mark and scratch you gave him. he softens, breathing gently as he strokes you hair. "no one's ever looked after me like this," he states, sitting up to drink the water your holding for him. you simply kiss his forehead in response, his heart is nearly beating out his chest at the sweet way you're looking after him, after just fucking the life out of you without giving a single fuck. you pull the blanket up over his naked body, getting out of bed to gather your belongings. "stay with me?" he pleads, you can't resist.
you wake up in patrick's arms, shit. shit. shit. it's 9am, you check your phone, a text from art, two hours ago.
good morning, baby. hope you slept well, off to my morning training session before the match later today. call you when i can xx
you turn around and look at patrick, fast asleep. you reply quickly to art.
good morning, my love. have a good session, already can't wait to hear ur voice <3
you're not lying. you hear his voice everyday, it's part of your routine. you put your phone on the nightstand as you start getting out of bed. "please don't leave just yet," patrick mumbles in his morning voice, holding out a hand for you. "let me just use the bathroom real quick." you respond. you smooth out your hair in the mirror, attempting to clean up your make up with only your finger, slipping into a robe on the back of the bathroom door. you return to patrick, sitting on the edge of the bed as he sits up now, leaning against the headboard. "i have a proposition for you," you tilt your head at his words. "i need you in my life, i need your body, your kindness," he begins. oh no. "i was thinking, if you were to look after me and my needs, i could do the same for you." you know exactly what he means, you've heard it before. your phone lights up, your ringtone playing. 'A.D' flashes across the screen. fuck.
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adoremexxs · 1 year ago
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Stalker!Sekido x gn! reader
i should be writing requests but i don’t have the energy to do all of them right now so you guys get this
warnings: you guys know the drill by now ☠️, crazy bs, stalking, self harm, manipulation
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Sekido had first saw you in his class. He was intstantly memorized by your obvious beauty.
Other people noticed it too.
It infuriated him. You were his and his only. You just didn’t know it.
He was so obsessed with you, going home at night and mewling out your name as his body shook violently.
The second that Karaku even talked to you, he snapped. Sekido never thought he would lose it so badly that night. He never realized how obsessed he was with you.
That night, Karaku never talked to you again and it completely scared Urogi and Aizetsu away from you.
But you went up to Karaku and them anyways, not talking to Sekido. The anger fueled in his stomach. Why wouldn’t you talk to him?!
You never talked to Sekido because you didn’t know him. Aizetsu, Urogi and Karaku had talked you before. You didn’t know his obsession with you.
Whenever you had went up to the brothers, the looked terrifed of you. You were confused.
“Did I do something, guys?” You had a smile on your face. Karaku was all beaten up, a black eyes forming on his face. You assumed that him and Sekido had gotten into another fight. You knew a good gist of their home life.
“Oh! Karaku! Come here, you poor thing.” You frown, looking at that cuts and bruises all over his body and he immediately backed away from you.
“Sorry, (Y/N)…It’s, uh, nothing. Don’t stress.” He tried to reassure you but your attention was focused on something else. A very angry gaze behind Karaku. Those red eyes boring into the back of Karaku’s head. Those gorgeous, red eyes.
You never realized how beautiful Sekido really was, even if he had a bit of a temper.
You remember watching him at the archery tournament, the way his hair was in a messy bun, baby hairs and bangs framing that gorgeous, tanned face, the way his veins bulged out of his arms, the concentration on his face.
Or the way he got heated during the debate team. God, it was hot to watch him lose it. But he also was physically hurting his brothers. So you glared at him while you cleaned up Karaku’s cuts and scrapes.
Sekido’s heart was crushed and shattered into two whenever you glared at him. Sekido didn’t understand what he did wrong. To make you baby his idiotic brother. It’s Karaku’s fault for approaching you.
Sekido finally had enough.
.
.
.
You were so focused on Karaku that you didn’t realize that Sekido had walked over and ripped you away from Karaku. Pure fear was engraved on your face as you stared up at those red eyes. An immense amount of anger in them as his hand tightened around your wrist.
You were frozen in fear for a few seconds because you slapped him harshly across the face, watching shock flash onto his face.
“Let go of me! Are you in your right mind?!”
Those words stabbed Sekido in the stomach and twisted around in his gut. He bit his bottom lip harshly. “(Y/N), I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Yeah! You sure didn’t! You could’ve hurt me!”
God, the thought of hurting his precious (Y/N) really turned him on. It had his pants bulging and begging for air. You looked up at him so angrily, it made him grow even more possessive over you.
“How can I ever make it up to you? Can I take you out for coffee?” This was his chance. His pants just kept growing tighter and tighter and his heart kept racing. The tips of his ears turning red. He could feel Karaku and them staring at him. He didn’t care if it was in fear or not. He was too focused on his precious (Y/N) considering his offer.
“…Fine. Tomorrow, before school.” You exchanged numbers with him. You didn’t think of the consequences this could have.
.
.
.
The coffee date went fairly well. Sekido was smooth with conversation and compliments. He had done his hair up all pretty for you. It was in an half up, half down. His bangs framed his chiseled face.
He was able to keep you on your toes, leaning forward for more of his talking. Sekido knew exactly how to reel you in towards him. His foot rubbed up against your leg several times which made you squeeze your thighs together.
Sekido’s eyes bored into yours, you were so infatuated with his beautiful eyes. They were narrow, deep, the color was irresistible. The way he looked at you had you squirming in your chair alone.
You didn’t know why this man, who you barely knew, had you already wrapped around his finger. You bit your lip as he talked about debate team. You decided to be bold, returning the bold movement he decided to do. You rubbed your foot up against his leg slowly and you watched his breath hitch. Maybe you liked being in control of such a strong, irresistible man.
He paused in stirring his tea to look at you, his expression had you weak. How could he do this you? Did he cast some kind of spell on you?
“(Y/N)…”
“Sekido.” The way you said his name was so quick and breathless. You wanted him. No, needed him. What the hell did he do to you?
He smirked, revealing those beautiful white fangs. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“Am I?”
Sekido wanted to take you right then and there but he had to wait for his plan to work out. He already managed to win you over with his sweet words.
The way your breath hitched whenever he looked at you made him feel extremely powerful. Sekido could only smile as he called the waiter over to pay for the bill.
“Let’s get going, yeah?”
.
.
.
It had been a few months since that incident. You and Sekido weren’t offically together yet but you have been hanging out everyday and getting to know each other.
It didn’t stop from his hands and yours from wandering, exploring each other’s bodies and sharing hot, sloppy kisses. Sekido was happy to have you to himself. Your body fit perfectly with his. The way you moaned out his name stirred something inside him that he never thought he would enjoy.
But somehow, you weren’t completely obsessed with him. You still talked to his brothers.
Maybe because they look like each other but you felt an attraction to his brothers as well. You and Sekido weren’t exactly together so you also took the time to get to know his brothers more. Urogi caught your interest.
Unknowingly to Sekido, you and Urogi were hooking up behind his back.
You couldn’t help it but Urogi’s sweet and loving personality had you wanting more. You wanted to see if he was as sweet and loving in bed. He was not. The amount of hickeys that you had to cover was insane.
Sekido found out. He will always find out.
He found out by going to your own home. He had this habit of going to your house while you were asleep and watching you. Just. Watching you.
Sekido would also steal your underwear from time to time to inhale your remaining scent. Nothing turned him on more than that.
Anyways, he saw you through the crack of your door. Urogi was there. Urogi had lied to him and said that he was at a friend’s house. Maybe he didn’t necessarily lie but still. You were moaning out Urogi’s name and it pissed him off. He almost couldn’t handle it. He had to leave before he killed the both of you.
He instead went to his room, looking at the little shoe box he had sat on his bed.
It contained photos of you, your underwear, used bandaids, used tissues, an old toothbrush and much more. Sekido’s breath was shaky as he felt his skin rip open and blood seep out of his fresh wounds.
Sekido felt the skin on his lip open up. He had busted his lip. How could his (Y/N) do this to him? Surely they will pay for this punishment. They have too. They couldn’t do this to him. He loved them.
.
.
.
The next time you went over to Sekido’s, you were excited. You had missed him and his sweet gentle kisses. No one was over, so you expected your relationship to move forever.
What you didn’t expect was to find him on his bedroom floor with his sleeves rolled to to expose the fresh, bleeding slits on his wrist. His eyes droopy and filled with lust but also anger. It terrifed you to watch the blood leave his wrists and drop onto the ground.
“Look what you did to me, (Y/N).” Those soft words left his lips. “Look what you did…You slept with my brother and now look at what happened. You did this…how could you?” Sekido’s words quickly twisted from soft and sweet to angry and mean. He stood up, you were frozen in fear.
This was not the Sekido you knew. Or did you even know him?
He walked towards you, his words remaining harsh and rude, “You slept with a lowlife like him? He’s using you. He doesn’t like you, (Y/N). I LIKE YOU. Not him! Why him? Why not me? I’m the one who is fucking good for you, you pathetic bitch.” You cry out as he harshly grabbed your chin, making you look at him.
You were panicking but you couldn’t move. You hated to admit that you somehow enjoyed the treatment.
“You are nothing without me. You’re a pathetic slut, waiting around for men like Urogi and Karaku to use you,” He uses his other free hand to stroke your cheek, blood dripping onto your paled face. “I wouldn’t do that to you, (Y/N). You’re mine. You’re fucking mine.” You could have sworn that your chin was bruised. You winced as tears gathered in your eyes.
You felt his hands move from your face to your throat, clenching tightly around your neck. You were losing consciousness as you tried to fight it off. Your hands scrambling to your throat while trying to escape his grasp. You heard him say one final thing.
“And I’ll make sure you don’t ever leave me.”
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straightbaittournament · 1 year ago
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some of the polls have accidentally been set for a week instead of a day! just to be clear, singles tourney rounds are only a day long, so i’ll be checking the results of the week long polls only after 24 hours and no later. sorry for the confusion!!
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messandahalf10 · 2 months ago
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but I wouldn’t have you any other way
Rating: General Audiences
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 5185
Summary: Merlin mysteriously receives a set of armour. Beautifully crafted leather armour, to be exact. He very quickly learns that amongst the nobility, such a gift is considered an offering of courtship. If only he could figure out who it’s from, and why the King is acting so… normal.
Excerpt:
Merlin swallows. “What do you know about armour?” He asks.
Gwen blinks. “I was the blacksmiths daughter, Merlin. I know pretty much all there is to know about armour. You’re going to need to be more specific.”
“Right.” Merlin huffs out a laugh, suddenly feeling nervous. “Leather armour, specifically.”
Gwen’s face screws up in thought. “I know it’s mostly used for training purposes, rarely ever in combat. Some knights will use it at tournaments where they know killing your opponent is heavily frowned upon. I’ve even seen some wear it out on patrols during times of secured peace. Why?”
“Because,” Merlin starts, “I currently have some, sitting on my bed in my chambers. It’s beautiful. Obviously a lot of time and effort was put into crafting it.”
Gwen immediately pulls her hands away from Merlin’s arms, hands instead flying to cover her mouth, open in shock. It’s Merlin’s turn to blink now, surprised at her obvious reaction. Before he can ask about it, however, Gwen is already dropping her hands, allowing them to hover in the air as she asks, “Do you know who it’s from?”
Merlin shakes his head. “No. But I was hoping you’d have some insight into that.”
“Merlin,” Gwen presses, “do you know what gifted armour like that signifies?”
Merlin blinks in surprise again. “No?” It comes out as more of a question than a statement. Gwen’s eyes widen almost comically.
“It is not common, not in many years anyway, but a gift such as this is a clear offering of courtship amongst the nobility. In the entire time I’ve been in Camelot, I’ve only ever heard about it once, and that was from Morgana because she loved to gossip about the nobles.”
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