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#you have your own interest and i have mine
kianamaiart · 1 day
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Hello your magical girl story looks really intriguing, the premise feels very creative, the art style is simple but good with its own identity, and the characters seem to be fleshed out with depth, personality, and backstory. In short, I love it, and I do have a few questions.
One: Is the story character driven, story driven, or something else
Two: Is the story rated G, PG, PG-13, or something else
Three: Would the story be a web comic, web show, or something else
Four: Will there be a lot of lore and world building, yes or no
Five: what other inspirations did you have for the story's characters, plot, and art style
Six: What humor do you use for the story
I'm only asking these questions out of curiosity. This is just because I love your story, and would like to know more about.
So please be free to not answer all the questions if you want. I'm also fine if you ignore this ask. so please, no pressure.
At the end of the day, please have fun, relax, work hard, take your time, and have a nice day.
I'm so glad! Thanks so much for your interest <3
Character driven (always)
PG/PG-13
Dunno! I've been reached out to already for a few opportunities but right now, I'm just trying to have fun with it and keep it mine until I feel like the idea is fully realized and ready for something bigger. Right now, I'm shooting to make a lil pilot animatic mostly on my own with help from a few friends
Depends on what you mean by a lot but I'd say a soft yes
For Aika, just generally other anime protagonists from shoujo and shonen. I feel like when you're doing a spin on something you do have to rely on the tropes from the genre at least a little bit. For Zira, Toko Fukawa was the jumping off point but they're very different. They're also both based off of aspects of myself (I feel like most artists do this with their ocs tho). Style and story-wise, I was definitely looking at Doremi and Panty&Stocking. That chunky cute look that's distinctly anime but takes some notes from Western cartoons. But mine's flipped where it's more based on my own style from working in Western animation but then having anime influence. And story-wise I like how they're more episodic with an underlying story. The magical girl stuff is more a backdrop that helps the story move forward and enhances the slice of life stuff that's being focused on.
I'm not sure what kind of humor to say other than my own? But my sense of humor has been shaped by Big City Greens (obviously) Adventure Time, Jimmy Neutron, Bob's Burgers, Smiling Friends and many other things but hopefully that gives you the gist
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jetii · 2 days
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Hello! I was wondering if I could 36 NSFW with Tech x fem!reader? Maybe where he said that nobody really gave him a challenge at the game, and readers ego is too high to back down from that offer even though she loses horribly. Established relationship perhaps? Also, I love your writing it’s amazing! You deserve all the love and followers
Hiii I'm so happy you requested this!!! I've been addicted to playing Kessel Sabacc in SW Outlaws for the past few weeks, and I was just waiting for the opportunity to work my knowledge into a fic. Literally wrote this as soon as I saw it in my inbox.
I consider this reader the same as the one from On Impulse if anyone cares!
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Strategy
Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader
Words: 5,069
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, smut, established relationship, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, light dom Tech, rough (but affectionate) sex
Prompt: 36. “I don’t know why you’re complaining, you’re the one that wanted to play strip Sabacc.”
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"Pure sabacc," you announce, throwing down your cards and leaning back in your chair. A relieved grin spreads across your face at Tech's expression. His mouth is a thin line and his eyes are squinted, but there's an exasperated glint in them.
"Yes, I know," he grumbles, dropping his own cards on the table. Tech isn't a sore loser, but he is a competitive one. And the fact that this is the second hand you've won in a row is definitely irking him.
You snatch up his discarded cards and start to shuffle. "What was that about me never winning a round?"
"It is an anomaly," Tech states emotionlessly.
"And you've done the calculations to prove it, haven't you?"
He doesn't answer.
"Well, maybe I'm just lucky tonight." You cross your arms, reveling in his annoyance. "You know, I was beginning to think you were cheating with all the times you've been winning."
Tech rolls his eyes, but you can tell he's fighting off a smirk.
"I wouldn't cheat. Besides, I don't need to. My superior memory allows me to calculate the chances of each outcome with ease, making me naturally skilled at the game. Whereas you," he continues, leaning across the table and resting his elbows on it, "must rely on luck, because your memory is abysmal. It's no surprise you've been losing so often."
"Hey!" you protest, tossing a card at him. It flutters through the air, but he catches it before it hits his goggles.
Tech leans forward, the card trapped between his index and middle finger. "I am merely pointing out the facts, darling."
You snatch the card from him and return it to the deck, refusing to meet his smug gaze. He's trying to distract you, and he knows it's working.
"You can't always rely on the facts," you say, dealing the cards out once again.
"I don't. I also use strategy. Which you should try, seeing as it would certainly help you win."
"Strategy?"
"Yes, like—"
"Like how you're trying to distract me by insulting my memory?"
Tech huffs a breathy laugh and tilts his chin down. "Is it working?"
"Absolutely not." You glance down at your cards, trying your best not to smirk at your hand. Another sylop. The deck is stacked in your favor this round, and you have a perfect chance of beating Tech.
"What do you say we make this more interesting?" you propose, watching Tech's head tilt in curiosity.
He places a chip down and draws a card before his eyes dart back to yours. "I'm listening."
"Strip sabacc."
Tech's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and he almost drops the cards he's holding. "I'm sorry, what?"
"You heard me," you tease, setting your cards down. "Whoever loses a round has to remove an item of clothing. If you lose all your clothes before I do, I win. If I lose mine first, you win. Deal?"
He takes a moment to contemplate the suggestion, a faint blush coloring his cheeks, and his eyes narrow, calculating the possibilities. When his lips curve into a smirk, you know he's made up his mind.
"Deal," he agrees, nodding once and adjusting his goggles. He lays down his cards face up—pair of ones. You frown at your own hand and drop them onto the table.
"Oh, come on! Again?"
Tech chuckles, leaning back in his seat. "I believe you're the one who suggested this game. Now, please, take off an item of clothing."
The cockiness in his tone sends a shiver down your spine, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. Tech may be a terrible flirt, but his confidence in himself is incredibly sexy.
You slip your boots off and kick them under the table, then lean back in your chair and cross your arms. Tech's eyes are locked on you, a devious smile playing at his lips.
"Now who's distracted?" you taunt, winking at him.
"Hardly," he answers. But you can see the flush on his face and the way his chest is rising and falling just a little bit faster than usual. He's excited, and he's trying to hide it.
��You know, you’re wearing a lot more clothes than I am," you argue, leaning forward on the table and batting your eyelashes innocently. “You should take off an item, too, for fairness' sake."
"Fine." He pulls his boots off and drops them onto the floor. "Happy now?"
"Very."
Tech picks up the deck and shuffles the cards, the corners of his lips turning up.
"This was your plan, wasn't it?" he asks.
"My plan was to finally win a game of sabacc against you. And maybe see you with less clothes on, but that's an added bonus."
Tech chuckles and slides the cards toward you, his eyes burning into yours. "You are very devious. Now, deal the cards, darling."
You quickly learn that the stakes have made the game a lot more fun. Your heart races as the tension between the two of you rises, each of you sneaking glances at the other while pretending not to. And it doesn't take long for Tech to get the upper hand, much to your dismay.
"I told you," he teases, smirking at you over his cards, "my superior memory allows me to calculate the probability—"
"Yeah, yeah, you don't need to brag," you interrupt, rolling your eyes. You draw another card, cursing when it doesn't help you in the slightest.
“I don’t know why you’re complaining, you’re the one that wanted to play strip Sabacc," he says. You look up at Tech to see he's staring at his own cards, but the slight smile playing on his lips tells you he's aware of your annoyance.
You can't argue with that. You're the one that proposed the idea, and you're the one that can’t seem to stop losing, so now you're the one sitting on the ship with no shoes, socks, or a shirt, leaving only your pants and undergarments. Meanwhile, Tech has only removed his gloves and belt.
He places his cards face-up on the table, revealing another pure sabacc.
"Dammit," you sigh, throwing your own cards onto the table. "Again."
"Strip," Tech commands, and there's a huskiness to his voice that wasn't there before. His eyes are dark and intense as they follow your every move, and his mouth is curved in a devilish smile.
"Are you enjoying this?" you ask, unbuttoning your pants and standing from the chair.
"Immensely," he admits, his eyes not straying from you.
Heat spreads throughout your body at the intensity of his gaze. He watches with bated breath as you push the fabric down your legs, revealing the soft skin of your thighs, and he licks his lips subconsciously. The pants pool around your feet, and you kick them under the table before returning to your seat.
"Now who's the distracted one?"
"Not distracted," Tech replies, his eyes meeting yours. "Appreciating."
His words are heavy and sultry, and you can't stop the flush that colors your cheeks.
"You can appreciate me better if you lose another round," you tell him, shuffling the cards once again.
Tech's eyes narrow. "I think I'd prefer to watch you lose a few more."
The cockiness in his voice goes straight to your core, and a heat pools in your abdomen. Tech doesn't break eye contact, his stare intense and challenging, and a thrill shoots through you at the thought of what he could be thinking.
"I guess we'll see," you tell him, smirking.
You deal the cards, and Tech immediately throws a chip down, drawing his next card. A satisfied smile curves his lips. He's not even trying to hide his glee at your frustration, and it's infuriating.
You throw a chip onto your pile, drawing a card and praying that the Force will be on your side this round. You peek at the numbers and symbols on the card, and the disappointment is instant. It's the worst possible combination—a six and one. And you're out of chips.
When Tech sets his cards down, he does so slowly, drawing out the moment and relishing in your scowl.
You sigh, dropping your useless cards, and Tech's eyes brighten at the sight.
"Well, would you look at that?" he says, his voice filled with fake innocence. "I believe that's five in a row for me."
"No shit, really?" you mutter, rolling your eyes. "I had no idea."
He leans forward and rests his elbows on the table, his hands folded together and his chin resting on top. "Strip."
It's the way he says it, like a command. His voice is low and gravelly, and you feel yourself getting wetter at the tone. He's so sure of himself, so cocky, and it's driving you wild.
"Do I have to?" you ask, batting your eyelashes at him.
Tech's eyes narrow in on you. "Yes."
You stand and unclasp your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders and slipping it off your arms. The cold air makes your nipples harden instantly, and his eyes widen when he sees them. He stares for a moment, taking in the view, and then his tongue darts out and licks his lips.
"I must admit, I'm finding this game more enjoyable than I originally thought," he says, his voice thick.
"Only because you're winning."
He hums in agreement and deals the next hand, a sly smirk playing on his lips. Throughout the round, Tech's eyes keep flicking back and forth between the cards and your chest, and you have to bite back a smile. He's trying so hard to concentrate, and his obvious struggle is adorable.
Tech's confidence fades as the round progresses, and by the time he sets his cards down, he isn't wearing his usual cocky smile. His mouth is pressed into a thin line and his eyebrows are knitted together when he shows you his hand.
"What's wrong, Tech?" you tease, leaning back in your seat. "Disappointed that you lost?"
"Of course not," he scoffs. "I've already calculated the possibilities and I know how this will end. I have no doubt that I will win."
"Then why are you pouting?"
"I am not pouting."
"Uh-huh. Well, whatever the reason, it's time for you to remove some clothes."
Tech sighs and slips off his goggles. His warm eyes meet yours, and you notice that they're slightly glazed over.
"There," he grumbles, pushing the goggles across the table toward you. "Happy?"
"Ecstatic," you reply, a wide smile on your face.
Your eyes rake over him, taking in his appearance. It’s rare that you get to see him this way, and you savor the moment. Tech has always been handsome, but the way he looks right now, with his hair mussed and a blush coloring his cheeks, is absolutely enticing.
You pick up the deck and shuffle it, and the sound of the cards sliding together is the only noise in the room. Tech's eyes are fixed on your bare chest, and his throat bobs when he swallows.
"Like what you see?" you ask, raising a brow.
"Always."
Your cheeks flush, and you deal the cards. The anticipation is killing you, and the smugness that Tech was showing before is long gone. He seems eager to get the game over with, and the impatience in his demeanor is refreshing.
His eyes flick back and forth between the cards and the pile, and his face gives nothing away. You're desperate to know what his hand is, and it's taking every ounce of willpower not to peek.
He reaches across the table and throws a chip down, his brow furrowing. It's such a subtle change in his expression, and most people would miss it. But you know Tech well enough to understand his emotions, and right now he's frustrated.
Your heartbeat quickens as you draw a card. Another three to match the one already in your hand. Not great, but it's enough to win if Tech doesn't have a better sabacc.
"What are you thinking about?" you ask him, watching as his eyes move from his cards to yours and back again.
"Strategy," he mutters.
"What kind of strategy?"
"The type of strategy that will guarantee my victory,” he says. His eyes are determined and his jaw is clenched. He glances up from his cards to meet your gaze, and the fire in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine.
"Show me your cards," he demands.
You do as he asks, laying the two twos face-up on the table. The look he gives you is nothing short of prideful, and your heart drops.
"You've got to be kidding me," you groan.
Tech reveals his own cards—a sylop and a one. You let out an exasperated huff, and he chuckles.
"Well," he starts, placing his cards on the table and leaning back in his chair. His gaze travels over your body, and his smirk widens. "Go on."
Your cheeks heat up under his scrutinizing stare, and a part of you wants to rebel and refuse to comply. But Tech looks so damn good right now, his eyes filled with mischief, and the excitement coursing through you is too much.
"You're having too much fun," you say, your voice low.
"I'd have more fun if you'd hurry up and finish this little game of ours," Tech retorts.
 You're about to give him a smart retort, but then you notice the way he shifts in his seat. It's subtle, and you doubt he even realizes it, but it's there. The tightening of his thighs, the slight twitch of his hands. He's just as turned on as you are.
And you decide to play into it.
"I'm in no rush." You stand, slowly, and let your hands travel down the expanse of your chest, cupping your breasts and running your thumbs over your nipples.
Tech's breath catches, and his eyes are dark as they watch your every move. You can see his fingers twitching, aching to touch you, but he's refraining. You run a hand down your stomach, over the hem of your panties, and he licks his lips again.
Then, without warning, you turn away from him, exposing your backside. Tech makes a sound of protest, but his objection quickly dies down when he sees you hook your thumbs into the waistband and slide your underwear down. You bend forward to push them down your legs, and you can hear the sharp intake of breath from Tech.
The moment you turn around, a mischievous glint in your eye, you're met with a new expression on Tech's face.
He looks hungry.
His pupils are blown wide and his lips are parted, and you can tell it's taking all his strength not to jump across the table and take you right then and there.
"Well?" you tease, raising an eyebrow at him. "What are you waiting for?"
He doesn't waste a second. With one swift motion, he tosses the cards aside, his eyes never leaving yours, and stands. Then, he's on the other side of the table and grabbing your waist, pulling you towards him until your chest is pressed against his.
"I win," he announces, his hands roaming over your body.
"Then take your prize."
He pulls you into a searing kiss, his lips pressing insistently against yours. His hands travel the expanse of your skin, squeezing and caressing. One settles at the base of your neck while the other moves lower, down the curve of your back and to your ass. He grabs it, hard, and pulls your hips towards his, pressing his already-hard erection into you. You moan into his mouth, and he swallows it up, his tongue delving deeper and dancing with yours.
You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer and pressing your bare chest against him. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, and his arousal is evident as he rocks his hips into yours, his hand squeezing and kneading your flesh.
When the two of you break away for air, his mouth moves lower, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking the sensitive skin at your pulse point. You tilt your head back, allowing him more access, and he takes full advantage. His tongue laves over the area, teeth nipping at the skin, and a breathy moan escapes your lips.
Tech's lips travel lower, across your collarbone and down your chest, stopping at the valley between your breasts. His breath fans over your skin, and his tongue darts out, licking a stripe along the underside of one breast. His fingers move up, brushing over the bud of your nipple, and you let out a whimper at the sensation.
He looks up at you, a satisfied smile playing at his lips, before bending and taking the other nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirls around it, his lips sucking the sensitive flesh, and his hand pinches the other one. The feeling sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and your hands find their way into his hair, tangling themselves in the strands.
You gasp as his teeth gently graze over the hardened peak, and your knees nearly buckle beneath you. His other hand comes up and holds your hip, steadying you, and his mouth moves to the other side.
"Tech..." you breathe, your head falling back and your eyes fluttering shut. He's barely touched you, and already, you're a panting mess.
Tech's lips travel further down, past your navel and to your thighs. He drops to his knees in front of you, his hands trailing along the curves of your hips, and his lips press kisses into your skin.
"I've been wanting to taste you all day," he says, his voice a low rumble.
"You should've told me earlier," you breathe, looking down at him through hooded eyes. "We could've skipped the sabacc." 
"This was far more entertaining." He presses a kiss to your mound, and you shudder. His eyes are dark with lust, and the sight of him on his knees before you makes your core clench with anticipation.
Tech kisses your thigh, his tongue darting out to taste the skin. Your hands tighten in his hair, tugging and guiding him to where you need him most. He chuckles, and the warm breath fans over your sensitive flesh. 
His fingers dance across your skin, teasing the crease of your thighs, before one presses against your heat. A moan escapes your lips, and he presses harder, dragging his finger through your folds.
"You're already so wet," he murmurs, his eyes watching the way his finger moves. "Were you thinking about this while we were playing? About what would happen if you lost?"
"Yes," you answer truthfully, and the admission has him groaning.
He rubs circles into your clit, his touch sending sparks of pleasure throughout your body. Your legs begin to shake, and you place a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. He glances up at you, the corner of his mouth turning up in a devilish smirk, and he presses a finger against your entrance. You whimper at the contact, and Tech lets out a quiet moan, the sight of you falling apart before him clearly affecting him.
"Tech, please," you beg, rocking your hips into his hand.
"Patience, darling," he coos.
He pushes the digit into you, slowly, letting you adjust to the stretch, and then curls it upwards. You gasp, your hand gripping his shoulder tighter, and he begins to pump his finger in and out of you. His arm nudges your thigh, spreading your legs wider, and he leans in and presses his mouth to your clit. He licks a broad stripe up the sensitive bundle of nerves, his tongue swirling around it, and you cry out in pleasure.
His free hand grips your thigh, holding you steady, while the other continues its slow movements, pushing in and out of you. You feel the tension coiling inside of you, and you know it won't take long for him to push you over the edge. His tongue is skilled and insistent, and he knows you better than anyone.
Tech's eyes are locked on yours, watching every reaction, and you can see the pure delight written on his face. He loves knowing he's the one doing this to you, making you fall apart.
"Tech... I'm..." You can't finish the sentence. The tension is building inside you, threatening to snap at any moment, and your breathing is labored. Tech adds a second finger, pumping faster and curling them against the spongy spot within you. You whimper, your grip on his shoulder tightening, and he knows you're close.
"Come for me," he says, his words vibrating against your sensitive flesh. His palm slaps against your clit, his fingers curling deeper, and the coil inside you snaps.
"Fuck!" you gasp, your legs shaking as the orgasm crashes through you. Tech's arm wraps around your thigh, keeping you upright as your knees buckle. He continues pumping his fingers, drawing out the pleasure, his tongue flicking and swirling around your clit.
When the sensations become too much, you place a hand on his forehead and push him away, your body going slack. Tech pulls his fingers from you and places a gentle kiss on your inner thigh before standing, his eyes searching yours.
"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice husky.
"Mhmm," you hum, a blissful smile tugging at your lips.
Tech's hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you into a bruising kiss. He takes a step forward, guiding you backwards, and the backs of your legs hit the bunk.
"Tech, please," you beg, breaking the kiss and staring into his eyes. They're black with desire, and he's already reaching down, fumbling with the zipper of his pants.
He pushes them down his legs, kicking them away, and his cock springs free, already leaking. Your hand reaches for him, stroking him from base to tip, and he groans, his hips bucking into your touch.
You continue the slow movements, dragging your hand along his length and rubbing your thumb over the tip. Tech's breathing is heavy, and his head falls to your shoulder, his face buried in the crook of your neck.
"Stop," he mutters, grabbing your wrist and halting the movement. "I want to last more than five seconds."
You chuckle and press a kiss to his jaw. "Well, let's go, then."
His eyes meet yours, and he nods. Then, in a swift motion, he spins you around and pushes you forward, bending you over the side of the bed.
He presses his body against yours, his cock grinding against your ass, and a soft moan escapes your lips. He's close, his breathing hot and heavy against your neck, and his hands are gripping your hips, pulling you towards him.
You feel the tip of his cock press against your entrance, and a shiver runs down your spine. You lean forward, resting your arms on the mattress and tilting your ass higher, and Tech lets out a deep moan at the sight.
"You're so beautiful," he whispers as one hand slides along the curve of your back.
“Hurry up," you urge, wiggling your hips against him.
His hand moves down your hip, across your ass, taking a moment to squeeze the flesh, and lower to the back of your thigh. His fingers dance along the skin, sending shivers down your spine, before coming to a stop at the back of your knee. He lifts it, propping it on the edge of the bunk, spreading your legs wider, and then his cock is lining up with your entrance.
He pushes in, slowly, letting you adjust to the stretch. You whimper as he fills you, and his hand comes up, rubbing soothing circles into your lower back.
Tech pauses when he's fully sheathed inside you, his hips flush with yours, and his hand comes around to rest on your lower stomach. The light pressure on the spot is just enough to have you squirming, and you push back into him, silently begging for more.
"Please, Tech," you whimper, and he huffs a laugh.
"Begging already?" he teases, his breath fanning over the shell of your ear. "I haven't even started yet."
He pulls out of you, and the drag of his cock has you whining, already missing the sensation. He pushes back in, slow and deep, and you let out a shaky breath.
"Fuck, Tech," you pant, and he groans, his nose brushing against the nape of your neck.
His pace is slow and methodical, and you can't help but admire the restraint he's showing. Usually, he's a mess by this point, but now, his fingers are digging into your hips, holding you steady, and his breathing is slow and controlled.
You turn your head, pressing your cheek against the sheets, and glance up at him. His eyes are shut tight, and his brow is furrowed in concentration. You're not sure what's gotten into him, but he seems determined not to lose control.
"Harder, Tech," you urge, pushing your hips back to meet his. He grunts and snaps his hips, the slap of skin on skin filling the room. You let out a moan, and Tech's pace quickens, his thrusts growing more forceful.
Your fingers dig into the sheets, trying to find purchase as he pounds into you. It's intoxicating, the feeling of his cock filling you, stretching you. And the sounds coming from his lips—the soft grunts and moans—are driving you wild. He's always quiet during sex, but the sounds he's making now are anything but.
Tech's grip on your hip tightens, and his hand on your stomach presses harder, holding you in place as his hips move faster. His thrusts are sharp and deep, and he hits that sweet spot inside you, sending tingling waves of pleasure through your body.
"Yes," you cry out, and you push back against him, meeting each thrust. "More, Tech."
"I don't want to hurt you," he says, his voice strained.
"You won't."
He lets out a strangled moan and slams his hips into yours, the movement nearly knocking the breath from your lungs. He continues his relentless pace, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hip, and your head falls forward, resting against the sheets.
Your legs are shaking, and the tension inside you is threatening to snap at any moment. You can feel the fire burning in your abdomen, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter, and the way Tech is panting against your neck isn't helping.
"That's it," he growls, his voice low and husky. "You're close, aren't you?"
"Yes," you breathe.
"I can feel you tightening around me." He groans, his pace never faltering. "You're going to come for me."
It's a demand, not a question. And you have no intention of disobeying him.
Tech's hand slides from your hip to your ass, squeezing the plump flesh. The possessiveness of the gesture has you keening, and you arch your back, presenting yourself to him. He growls at the sight, his hips slamming into yours.
"Stars, you're so fucking beautiful," he pants, his hand moving to your thigh and hiking your leg higher. The new angle allows him to slide deeper inside you, and you can feel the pressure building within you, the tears beginning to prick at your eyes.
"Tech, please," you beg, pushing your hips back to meet his.
"What do you need, darling?" he asks, his voice strained. "Tell me."
"Make me come, please," you whine, and his hips jerk forward.
His hand is quick, sliding between your legs and finding your clit. He presses two fingers against the swollen bud, rubbing slow circles, and the tension snaps. Your body goes rigid, and your vision blurs as the orgasm rips through you. You cry out, Tech's name falling from your lips, and your knees buckle, the only thing keeping you upright is his firm grip on your hips.
You bury your face in the sheets, muffling the sound of your moans, and Tech keeps pumping into you, his thrusts rocking you forward and sending your orgasm even higher.
He fucks you through the high, his pace never faltering, each thrust punching another gasp from you. Your hands grip the sheets, knuckles white and jaw clenched, and the pleasure is so intense that tears begin to roll down your cheeks. His cock twitches inside you, and you clench around him, desperate to push him over the edge.
"Fuck," he hisses, his thrusts becoming sloppy. He's babbling now, his voice hoarse and broken, and you can tell he's close. "You're perfect, darling. You're— fuck, I love you, I love you, I love—"
His words are cut off by a deep groan, and his hips stutter. He slams into you one final time before he spills into you, hot and thick, and the feeling is enough to make you see stars. His hands are gripping your waist, bruising the flesh, and he pulls you into his lap as he turns and collapses onto the bed.
You both sit there, panting, his chest pressed against your back. His forehead is resting against your shoulder, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. The two of you are covered in a sheen of sweat, and his hands are roaming your body, tracing gentle patterns across your skin.
"That was..." Tech trails off, unable to form the words.
"Yeah," you agree, leaning back against him. You take in a shaky breath and sigh. "I love you too, by the way."
"I know." He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his lips pressing a gentle kiss against the sensitive skin. "I can't believe you suggested strip sabacc."
"And I can't believe you agreed."
"Well, I wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to see you naked," he chuckles, his fingers tracing lazy circles across your abdomen.
You laugh, and the sound is bright and clear. You shift in his lap, turning around and straddling his hips. His eyes are soft as he stares up at you, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"Maybe we should play it more often then," you joke, leaning down and capturing his lips in a tender kiss.
"We will, if this is how you plan to reward me every time I win."
"Deal."
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gay-dorito-dust · 14 hours
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Hi 🙂 could you write a fic about Agatha and Rio both taking an interest in reader and competing for their attention. Who they end up with up to you. Xxx
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I got issues w/ wanda stans which ultimately make me hate the character (I don’t want to but you freaks force my hand) by osmosis and I’ll just block you out cuz it’s honestly pathetic to listen to you speak.
You were cute, they both had to admit it, adorable even if they were kind enough to admit aloud. So congrats on being the object of desire of two very powerful and beautiful women. I’m jealous.
Neither Rio nor Agatha were exactly delighted to know that the other was also thriving for your affection and attention. Not. One.bit. They didn’t want to take civil either when it came to you and would boast rather loudly and confidently about how your heart was already taken as their possession.
‘You don’t have a heart to give, so why would you ever delude yourself to the idea that y/n would ever give you theirs on their own terms?’ Agatha said as Rio smirked and shrugged.
‘I do have a heart, it’s black and it beats for them as theirs does for mine, I just have to make them see that even if it means removing you from the picture.’ Rio replied but it only proved to make Agatha cackle as though she was told something funny rather than threatened. She’s had that be the case for a long, long time on multiple different accounts.
‘That’s cute but they were mine from the moment I stepped into Westview during Wanda’s…attempt to play house and acting as their wife,’ Agatha sighs. ‘Let’s just say I was given tastes of them which were sweeter than nectar.’ She smirks when she seeks the smirk on Rio’s lip was wiped off, replaced by a scowl as a perfect visual of jealously and anger overcame the face green witch.
‘Well we’re not in THAT Westview anymore my dearest Agatha,’ Rio began, ‘those memories you may try to hold over my head are long forgotten by them, besides it’s time they moved on with someone with more…potential.’ It was Agatha’s time to look annoyed and angry at Rio as she waves her hand. ‘Bye bye Aggie, we’ll be sure to send the marriage invite.’ She adds sarcastically before leaving.
Agatha, alone in the house she was trapped in for the past three or more years, took a deep breath to compose herself. If Rio wanted you, she’s going have to go through her first, after all you were hers first even if it was under the hex. You were always going to be hers before you were anyone else’s.
Agatha would try to woo you by doing things you supposedly liked during the hex, but once she realises that wasn’t the case anymore and the you in the hex was a charachuer of who you were. She knew that she had some actual work to do in order to win your heart before the black hearted Rio did.
She’d even console in Senior Scratch from time to time, tucking the rabbit in her arms and under her chin as she schemes about how she’s going to swoon you over to her.
‘Flowers did the charm once but it doesn’t exactly scream ‘ don’t make me the other woman in this relationship’ or ‘you chose me once, do that again because it’s the only correct answer.’ Agatha raised the rabbit to her eyes. ‘what do you think? Yay or nah.’
Senior scratch twitched his nose and flicked his ear.
‘You’re right, after Wanda traumatised this town, I doubt it’ll be easy getting to y/n anymore as it is getting a needle out of a haystack, but I’m not going to give them over to her.’ Agatha spat as he mind went to Rio earlier this morning, whispering rather flirty and somewhat vulgar things when told to someone with a particularly filthy mind, into your ear and smiling when you looked at her with wide eyes and a flustered face.
‘You know where to find me sweetheart, so don’t be shy.’ Rio then said as she locked eyes with Agatha as she kissed your cheek, leaving a perfect dark imprint of her lips there for anyone to see.
Rio on the other hand wasn’t afraid to saunter up to you and openly flirt with you while keeping her composure. It came to her as easily as breathing, and besides your reactions always made her smile in accomplishment, so she keeps doing it while handing you a special black rose that she conjured up just for you.
‘What’s this?’you asked.
‘A rose of course.’ Rio replied.
‘I know that but,’ you look from the flower to Rio, ‘what’s the occasion?’
Rio smiled as she walked up close to you, placing her hand over your own as she made you both squeeze the stem of the thornless rose. ‘No occasion, can I not be allowed to gift you something that will never wilt, never die, never look less perfect than the day I plucked it for you.’ Rio answered as she looked deeply into your eyes.
You smiled. ‘Thanks Rio, I promise to treasure it along with the lavenders that Agatha got me.’
Rio’s jaw twitched at the mention of the other witches name but didn’t let her annoyance be shown to you as she smiled tightly. ‘You take gifts from other women now? I’m hurt.’ You chuckled as you rested your hand on her shoulder, cussing a flicker of warmth to flow through her briefly.
‘I didn’t take Rio Vidal to be the jealous type.’ You joked, ‘besides it’s not like I can reject Agatha’s gifts, she can be very convincing.’ You add as Rio internally seethed.
‘Yes, very convincing.’ She chocked out through gritted teeth. Agatha was more of a pain in her ass than she originally thought.
‘Anyways I’ve got to go, Agatha invited me to her house for tea and snacks this afternoon but I’ll see you tomorrow for that abandoned botanical garden you told me about, see you later Rio.’ You bided the green with goodbye as you clutched the black rose to your chest as it emanated a brief green glow.
‘You think you’re winning this fight Agatha, but the wars only just begun.’ Rio spat as she watched Agatha welcome you with open arms, holding you close as she looks at Rio with a look of accomplishment.
‘Come on in dear, I have your favourites ready on the table. Senior Scratch has been missing you as of late.’ Agatha cooed as she booped you on the nose, her hand now sliding to your waist as she guides you into her home that felt familiar and smelled like lavender to ease you into a sense of comfort and warmth.
Who you end up with is up to you. (I’d want both but I’m a sucker for Kathryn Hahn and Aubrey Plaza)
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uyuforu · 14 hours
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Astro Observations: Lunar Return Chart VI
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Hi people, it's been a while since the last time I posted. I thought of doing another LRC Observations since it has been the end of one of mine, and this is still a thing in astro that doesn't get enough recognition. So here we are! Hoping you'll like it.
All pictures were found on Pinterest
Other posts you could like:
જ⁀➴ Lunar Return Chart III
જ⁀➴ Lunar Return Chart IV
જ⁀➴ Lunar Return Chart V
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₊˚⊹♡ Mercury 12H will make you be terrible at communicating this month.
₊˚⊹♡ Sun 11H is a big indicator to spend a lot of times with friends, but also to spend a lot of time online.
₊˚⊹♡ 12H Ruler conjunct DSC means you'll probably dream of your FS or love one.
₊˚⊹♡ If the 12H Ruler conjunct DSC also conjuncts Moon it means you'll have vivid dreams about your FS or love one.
₊˚⊹♡ Jupiter conjunct Moon 6H can mean you'll be in a good mood mostly this month, you'll feel probably optimistic.
₊˚⊹♡ Mars 7H is a sign you'll be mad at your partner this month. There could be a lot of anger.
₊˚⊹♡ Mars conjunct Groom is very similar, you could be mad at your FS, if you met them already.
₊˚⊹♡ Mars 7H is usually also a sign you'll want to rush things with someone this month.
₊˚⊹♡ Jupiter 7H or conjunct DSC usually means you'll be feeling content about your romance life this month, or you'll feel very in love with your partner. If not one one those, then you'll probably feel like you are popular when it comes to romance. Or just content with your situation. Moreover this could alsoooo be a sign of meeting a potential partner.
₊˚⊹♡ Venus 9H is a sign of taking interest in a new thing that is more creative.
Example: the month I had this placement I took interest in a lot of creative tools such as crochet & embroidery.
₊˚⊹♡ Uranus 5H could mean you could discover new hobbies this month, but this could be quite sudden, or you could felt like you may have manifested it. It could also be a sign of playing more video games this month.
Example: the month I had this placement I discovered a lot of video games in thrift shops that I used to play as a child. I kept thinking about how bad I wish I could play that again, and a few days later, find those in a shop for literally nothing. Happened 3 times the month I had this!
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₊˚⊹♡ 5H Ruler in 9H can be a sign of going on vacations in foreign lands, yet it could also means discovering new hobbies, and hobbies that someone older than you could also share with you.
₊˚⊹♡ 7H Ruler in 8H means you'll discover things about your lover, partner, or person you are interested in.
₊˚⊹♡ Sun 8H means you could be better at manifesting this month, you could also find out things in general this month. Even without searching for it. You could also have a bigger intuition this month.
₊˚⊹♡ 10H Ruler in 9H can mean you'll take a break from work or public attention this month.
₊˚⊹♡ Jupiter 6H is a sign you'll feel less tired this month, but you could also just work well this month, or have a lot of opportunities, clients, etc.
₊˚⊹♡ Moon 6H is a sign you could feel a little more emotional this month, and you could also want to work on it, or you could just feel emotional, nostalgic, everyday. But if it has good aspects then it will just be you being sensitive.
₊˚⊹♡ Moon 10H means you'll be very into your career, job in general. You'll feel the need to put yourself more into it. Though it means you could also be highly into finding a good job.
₊˚⊹♡ Moon conjunct Chiron is a usual placement that explains stress and anxiety, and the house will be the reason for that anxiety.
₊˚⊹♡ Moon conjunct Chiron 10H means you'll feel stressed and anxious about your career. It could be about your current job or if you are searching for one you could be stressed about that.
₊˚⊹♡ 10H Ruler conjunct Jupiter could be a sign of getting a job opportunity. But if Uranus is also there, then it could be very sudden.
₊˚⊹♡ 10H and 6H Rulers conjunct each other is another sign of having a job.
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queensunshinee · 6 hours
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His favorite toy- Part 2 || Art Donaldson x reader
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Rating: Explicit (18+)
Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex, oral sex), super toxic relationship.
Word Count: 6.5k
(part 1)
His favorit toy- Part 2:
Two months have passed since the last time Art and I fucked. Although it wouldn’t be fair to call it that, because I don’t fully know what it was. I only know he said he thinks he loves me. Neither of us made the minimal effort to rekindle any kind of relationship. I kept sitting with Janet and Shane, and he stayed in his place next to the friend he invented.
Occasionally, if I focused, I could feel his gaze on the back of my neck, but maybe I was imagining it. Maybe I also imagined his declaration of love, maybe I lost my grip on reality for a moment. Maybe more water needs to flow under this bridge. Maybe Tashi Duncan needs to be his, like he is hers, so I can stop dreaming about him at night. How did I become so dependent on the emotions of a girl I have no desire to exchange a word with? How did I lose someone I’m not sure was ever mine? And more than anything- what made me spend so much time in this endless whining?
A few days after that party, Luke sat next to me in one of the classes we share. He looked so good that if I close my eyes, I can imagine it's Art. A remarkably pathetic thought, but it works. Except he isn’t cruel. He doesn't try to deceive me or lead me to the point he wants me to reach. He’s interested in me and my hobbies, and sometimes he walks me from class to class, but in these two months, he hasn’t made any move beyond placing his hand on my shoulder. Maybe he thinks I have lice. Maybe he thinks I won’t be good enough in bed to risk our boring conversations about the eco-intro professor.
Maggie, the girl I work with, canceled at the last minute, so I ended up alone at the smoothie station and the register. I took comfort in the fact that it's exam season and not too many Stanford students would prefer to stand in line for a smoothie instead of grabbing a spot in the library on a Sunday night. "The usual?" I heard Art’s voice and lifted my gaze from the book I was reading. I blinked at him a few times, as if trying to figure out if I was imagining his smug smile. Maybe it wasn’t smug, maybe that's just how he always smiles when he sees me. Like he knows a secret he’ll never tell me. "I..." I tried to hold onto the reality as I knew it, "I don’t remember," I smiled without showing teeth, half-forced.
"Peach—" he stopped himself in the middle of the stupid nickname. Apparently, he understood from my look that it wasn’t appropriate after two months of radio silence. "Almond milk, banana, pecan, and coconut," he mumbled. "That’s $4.50," he nodded. I wondered if he was surprised, because I’d never asked him to pay before. I’d always used the free smoothie I got during my shift on him. "How a—" he started to speak, and I turned on the blender, seeing out of the corner of my eye that he was smirking and shaking his head. "Fair," he muttered. "Here’s your smoothie. Goodnight," I handed him the cup after a few seconds, with the most forced smile I could muster. He rolled his eyes in response and sat down in one of the empty chairs.
"What do you think you’re doing?" I asked. "Sitting and drinking my smoothie, obviously," he spoke again as if I were two years old. Like I needed him to mediate reality for me because I couldn’t understand it on my own. "Do you see anyone else sitting here?" I asked. "Just because the tables are empty because it’s ten at night and you’re working in a cafeteria-" he began. "This isn’t a cafeteria. It’s the—" "Doesn’t mean I can’t sit at one of the tables and drink my smoothie. Or are there new rules I’m not aware of?" I rolled my eyes in response. Smug dickhead. I was definitely not going to give him a second of my time. I went back to the book I was reading for my philosophy exam, trying to ignore his presence but realizing I was reading the same sentence five times in a row.
"What are you studying?" he asked after a few minutes of silence. "Why are you doing this?" I threw the question back from behind the counter, sighing in frustration. "What am I doing?" The usual smirk was plastered on his face. "Why are you here on a Sunday night, Art?" If I could stomp my foot to express protest, I would. "Because you’re here on a Sunday night." The smirk turned into a smile. I couldn’t tell if it was sincere. I never know if he’s sincere.
"What do you want?" I rolled my eyes and sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to leave. I knew he was stubborn in an almost inspiring way (or nauseating, depending on who you ask) and that he was always at an advantage with me. He always had the last word. All I had left was to let him say it quickly and move on with life. "To ask how you're doing?" he half said, half asked. He sounded hesitant, but I knew he wasn’t. I knew he was as confident as any other day. He knew exactly what he was doing. "Amazing. Anything else?" I found myself crossing my arms under my chest and saw him, without shame, shift his gaze, well… to my chest, raising an eyebrow.
"Arthur!" I felt like I was his aunt as he shook his head, almost playfully. "I missed you, Peaches. Is that so hard to believe?" He chuckled, still completely shameless. "Well, I didn’t." That was the first thing that came to mind, and the face Art made, along with the eye roll, only emphasized how much he didn’t believe me. "Why are you so mad at me?" His voice was amused as he approached the counter with his smoothie, grabbing the book I was reading without asking. "What course is this?" "Philosophy," I snatched it from his hand, and he grabbed mine with the speed of an athlete who works too much with his hands. "Let go," I muttered, not sure if I wanted him to release my hand or release me. But I was scared he'd agree and disappear again, and that was so fucking pathetic. "Never," he replied, keeping his gaze on me and giving my hand a squeeze. "It’s not fair, Art," I hated how my voice sounded. "What’s not fair?" he asked, tracing small circles on my hand the moment he felt me relax the muscle that had been trying to pull away from his touch. "What you're doing right now," I sighed. If he weren’t in front of me, I probably would’ve started crying out of frustration. "What am I doing right now?" The smirk was once again plastered on his face. "Trying to convince me everything's okay between us," I hesitated, and he shook his head from side to side. "Nothing's okay between us, Peaches. I hate it. I actually hate it. I think about you 80% of the day. Every time I want to talk to you, you're either with your friends or with Luke." He wrinkled his nose as he said his name.
"Why do you know his name?" I asked, studying him. "Because I looked him up, and I'm telling you, Peaches, he's fucking weird—" "You're fucking weird," I shot back, and he laughed, trying to move the hair from my face with his free hand. "Well, maybe you like us weird, maybe you've got a type," he tried to joke, making me roll my eyes. "Who said I like you, Donaldson?" I tried to defend myself, and Art wasn’t laughing anymore. He wasn’t smiling either. He just looked at me, not letting me read his expression. His hand, which had been playing with mine, tightened its grip, and his gaze locked onto me as if I was on trial for the words that just came out of my mouth.
"Let’s study for the statistics exam together tomorrow?" He changed the subject, not breaking his intense gaze. "Art—" "Study for the exam. Just that. I won't pass it if you don't help me," he flashed his most charming smile. The one he fakes in seconds. The one he uses for interviews with the Stanford magazine and in photoshoots for the tennis team posters. "Study with Dylan," I suggested, raising an eyebrow, referring to the imaginary friend he chose to sit with instead of me. "You want me to beg?" he asked, poking my shoulder with his finger, causing me to shift slightly but still not letting go of my hand. "Maybe," I teased. "I can. My ego will survive if you study with me for statistics tomorrow." He said it quicker than I expected.
"I have a philosophy exam at eight. Can you do twelve?" I asked. "I can when you can. Where’s the exam? I’ll wait for you," he said. "Meet me at the economics library. There’s a room where you’re allowed to talk if you’re working in groups," I explained my choice. "That’s ridiculous. Let’s study at your place or mine—" "We’ll study at the library, take it or leave it," I stated firmly, even though the temptation to go to his dorm was strong since he never invited me. We always went to mine. "Library it is," he agreed. "What’s your philosophy exam about?" he asked, finally letting go of my hand, which had been holding the book I was studying from. "Aristotle and eudaimonia. What he thinks about happiness," I muttered, opening my notes again. "What does he think about happiness?" Art asked, leaning on the counter. "You wouldn’t get it," I smiled at him, and saw him nod with a somewhat thoughtful look, as if his combative spirit and desire to argue had evaporated the moment I agreed to study statistics with him. "Tomorrow at twelve, Peaches. Don’t break my heart and ditch me," he threw into the air, leaving the booth with the same dramatic flair he had when he entered. . . . I walked into the economics library, which was packed with people. Art was already sitting there, messing with his phone more than with the notes in front of him on the table. He hadn’t noticed I’d entered, giving me the chance to observe him. His blonde curls fell over his eyes in a way that likely bothered him. He was wearing his red tennis outfit (the one I liked the most, I should mention) and looked carefree. He always seemed too relaxed, maybe that’s how it is when everything comes to you with an ease that’s almost disgusting.
"You need a haircut," I muttered the first thing that came to mind as I approached, seeing him look up immediately. "Hey," he said, smiling from ear to ear, "I saved a spot because I knew it’d be crowded," he added. "How long have you been sitting here?" I asked as I took the seat next to him. "Since about ten," he chuckled, probably at himself, "How was the exam?" he asked. "Long. Have you gone over any of the material?" Yesterday, I decided I’d be practical. I’d promised to help him, and honestly, I always understood the material better myself when I explained it to him. And if Art Donaldson could take advantage of my knowledge in statistics, then I could take advantage of the situation too. Not just him. "A little, I pretty much lost track in the middle of the course." Art had taken this course as an elective. I always found it funny because who takes statistics as an extra class when it’s not even required for their degree?
"What, Kevin didn’t let you copy his notes?" I looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and he lightly tapped my shoulder. "You’re mean. Since when are you so mean?" he responded with a humor I couldn’t fully read, unsure if he was joking or if part of him actually thought there was some cruelty in me. Maybe it was the philosophy exam I couldn’t shake off. Obsessive thoughts about happiness and potential. "I’m going to get myself some coffee, want me to bring you something?" I asked, changing the subject. "Sit down, get settled, I’ll get it for you," he nodded toward me and stood up, not giving me a chance to refuse before he disappeared from my sight, leaving me alone.
Art Donaldson will be the end of me. I’m certain of it. "My brain is fried, Donaldson. I can’t look at any more averages," I summed up after two hours of studying. "Yeah? Already gave up?" he asked, amused. "I remind you that I had an exam today! I don’t think I’ve eaten anything other than my own brain," I tried to remember what I’d actually eaten today. "So let’s go eat something," he smiled. His eyes practically sparkled. "Art," I sighed, resting my head on my hand. "What? We can’t go have lunch?" he asked with mock innocence. Speaking to me again like I was a child. Like I didn’t understand what he’d already figured out long ago. "No, of course not," I wanted to smack him on the head as if he were the dumbest person I knew. "I can’t let you stay hungry, Peaches, my grandmother would be mad at me," he quickly replied. Where was your grandmother every time you humiliated me to the core? Every time you made me feel empty and stupid? So stupid. "Your grandmother will survive," I rolled my eyes. "She’s a very sick woman, you don’t know that. I’ll tell her I let you starve and she’ll have a stroke. You won’t be able to live with that on your conscience. You’ll drag us into lives full of guilt—" "Okay, you’re giving me a headache, God," I mumbled, standing up. Art Donaldson’s smug smile returned to his face in an instant.
That’s how I found myself sitting across from him at the fancy cafeteria for athletes, eating nuggets after the woman working there flirted with him and gave me a threatening look. "Don’t hate Rosie, she always gives me extra pie," he said after I pointed out that she looked at me like I was the reason the Beatles broke up. "Because she wants to sleep with you," I rolled my eyes. "So she has a reason to look at you like that. Makes sense," he replied with a chuckle. "Okay, what is this?" I dropped the nugget I was holding and pointed between us as I leaned back in my chair. "What?" he continued eating as if nothing unusual was happening. "What are you doing, Art?" I asked, feeling my leg start to shake out of frustration.
"I’m eating and making sure you’re eating," he replied, taking another bite of his food, as if we were having a completely normal conversation. "We’re not going to fuck again just because you invited me to eat nuggets at the cafeteria, you know that, right?" I blinked at him, trying to signal that he was delusional. "Of course not," he said, leaning back in his chair as well. "I have principles, Donaldson," I continued. "I know," he smiled. "I’m not some girl you found on the street that you can treat however you want, disappear for two months, invite her for nuggets, and she’ll take off her bra just so you can vanish again until the next time you’re horny," my voice rose a bit, despite my effort to keep it calm. I saw his jaw tighten, his expression shifting from amused to cold. "Is that what you think this is?" he asked, and all I could do was shrug.
"It’s not like you’ve given me any reason to think otherwise, Art," I looked at him and felt that if I stayed there much longer, I’d start crying. "I told you that I lo—" he began, but I stood up. "Thanks for lunch, it’s definitely nicer than the regular cafeteria," I forced a smile, and he closed his eyes. "You didn’t eat anything," he replied. If I focused, maybe I could have seen his frustration growing. But I was trying to focus on not crying. Art Donaldson’s ego didn’t deserve to see me cry over him again. "I’m really tired, I need to sleep a bit before my shift," I mumbled. "Will you come to my match tomorrow?" he asked quietly. "Art—" "You don’t have to, but I’m saving you a seat, okay?" he cut off my answer, not wanting to hear a refusal, maybe not believing there was a bone in my body capable of saying no to him. . . . And it’s a little pathetic how I ended up walking onto the tennis court the next day, giving up the last shred of my self-respect. I was surprised to see how many people showed up to these things, especially at the end of exam season and right before the break. The place was packed.
‘You came’ -A- I got his message and tried to look around, searching for where he might be. ‘Down on the court’ -A- I could practically see his smirk in the words. I glanced toward him and shrugged. ‘Front row, saved you a seat next to Patrick’ -A- he added.
‘What the fuck is Patrick?’ -(Y/N)- I replied, not moving toward where he told me to go.
‘A friend. Please sit there.’ -A- He answered shortly. ‘Want to lift my head and know where you are’ -A- And when he says things like that, I almost forget how cruel he can be. So I find myself rolling my eyes and walking toward the seat he saved for me.
"Are you Patrick?" I mumbled, feeling my cheeks flush from the awkward interaction with the guy sitting next to the empty seat. "Depends who’s asking," the curly-haired guy responded, flashing a mischievous half-smile. I can see why they’re friends. Fucking twelve-year-olds in the bodies of twenty-year-olds, how is that even possible?! "Don’t be a dick," we heard from down below, and I turned to see Art approaching us. "Who’s this?" the guy I didn’t know asked, as if I wasn’t standing right there—seriously, rude as hell, but whatever. "Patrick, behave," Art wasn’t joking, not even smiling, scolding him like you’d scold a misbehaving pet. "You came," Art looked me over, grinning from ear to ear. "Don’t let it go to your head, I had some free time," I muttered, sitting down. Art nodded. "Will you stay after the game?" he asked. I think it was the first time Art had to look up to talk to me. "I don’t know, I need to keep studying for statistics," I answered. "Me too," he replied. "We’ll study together," he shrugged, not giving me a chance to respond before he walked off, taking his position. Getting ready to serve.
“Interesting,” the guy next to me said. “What exactly?” I asked, rolling my eyes and still not looking at him. “You, of course,” I could hear him smiling. “What’s so interesting about me?” I kept staring into the air, unsure if I should focus on Art, who still hadn’t started playing, or the phenomenon sitting next to me. Arrogant, just like the blond guy who’s been emotionally torturing me for months. “Well, first of all, I’ve never heard of you. You’re a surprise,” he said as if it was obvious. And it stung a little, even though I knew the chances of Art talking about me were slim to none. “Maybe you’re the problem, Pete,” I muttered, snapping my fingers like I was trying to recall his name. “Patrick,” he corrected, laughing, making me look at him. He had a loud laugh, unapologetic. I knew his name was Patrick, and he knew I knew, but he still found it amusing.
“Maybe you’re the surprise,” I told him. “He doesn’t talk about you either.” I tried to sound unaffected, like everything was fine. The game started, and Art looked distracted. Maybe he always looks like that when he plays tennis- I’ve never watched his games before, he’s never invited me. “You’re supposed to watch the other side too,” Patrick whispered in my ear, causing me to roll my eyes. “Hey, Stats Girl,” I heard the familiar voice of Tashi Duncan just before she sat next to Patrick, cursing the day I decided to trust Art Donaldson and show up at his game. “The one and only,” I muttered with the best smile I could muster, feeling myself blush at the ridiculous nickname she gave me. “How’s he doing?” she asked Patrick. I wondered what their connection was. “He’s good, you know, as usual. Ice.” he replied, and they started talking quietly about the game, about Art, and about the opponent.
All I could think about was how good Art looked. He looked as if everything came to him effortlessly, as if he didn’t need to try for anything—everything just happened. And I knew that wasn’t true, I knew he worked hard, trained, ate properly, invested in his studies, and that he was probably a good grandson and a good friend. He was good to everyone except me. “Are you enjoying the game?” Tashi asked, pulling my gaze away from Art for a moment. “Huh?” I asked, not understanding what she wanted. “The game, are you enjoying it? He’s playing well,” she clarified. “Yeah, he’s really good,” I mumbled. I didn’t know what else to add to make it sound convincing. “Leave her, Tash. She doesn’t know anything about tennis, she’s his cheerleader,” Patrick answered her, snickering. I shot him a murderous look. “Patrick, don’t be rude,” Tashi said, “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t know how to behave around people,” she turned to me, as if he wasn’t there. “It’s fine,” I replied, feeling my leg start to shake from the frustration. They went back to talking about the game, and I suddenly felt how pathetic it was, showing up to watch him play. To come and see him in his element, when he wasn’t part of my life anymore. When his friend sat next to me, mocking me to my face. “I’ll be right back…” I mumbled, walking toward the exit. I had no intention of coming back. . . . Two hours later, there were chaotic knocks on my door. “You left,” Art walked in without waiting for an invitation the second I opened the door. He looked angry. “I told you I didn’t know if I’d stay, I have an exam tom-” “Bullshit. What’s your deal? Why did you come?” He practically shouted as I closed the door. “You asked me to come,” I mumbled. “I also asked you to stay, but you left in the middle, so what was the point of you coming?” He crossed his arms. I don’t think I’d ever seen him this angry. He’s always calculated and calm. “Did he say something?” he added, asking a question. “What?” I returned, not understanding what he was talking about. “Patrick, did he say something to you? Why did you leave?” He asked again, speaking to me like I was a child. “He didn’t say anything to me. I left because I didn’t understand what I was even watching. I don’t know anything about tennis, Art, and I have an exam to study for,” I tried to justify. “Enough with that exam. I heard you studying for it yesterday, you know the material, we both know you know it.” He sighed. “I didn’t ask you to come to give tennis commentary. I asked you to come because I wanted you in the crowd. I wanted to see you in the crowd,” he continued. I could hear the effort in his voice to keep it together, to not lose control.
“Tashi was in the crowd; that should be enough for you,” I muttered, lifting my gaze to him, seeing that he was already staring at me. We had never talked like this about Tashi. She had always been this figure hovering above us. He talked about her constantly, unrelated to anything. He talked about her like she was a god. He talked about how she played tennis, about her training, how she helped him. He talked about parties he only went to because Tashi wanted to go. But I never responded in a way that would let him understand that I knew. That I wasn’t completely clueless. That I knew he was completely in love with her. That he loved her the way I loved him and that nothing would change that. “Oh, so that’s the problem. You could’ve started with that. It bothered you that Tashi was in the crowd?” He chuckled. He fucking chuckled. “Why did it bother you?” He moved closer to me, and I had no choice but to avert my gaze from his piercing blue eyes, which felt like bullets at that moment. “It didn’t bother m-” “Look at me.” He was close enough to grab my head and turn it back to face him. “I asked you a question,” he added, not letting me escape. And if there’s anyone I didn’t want to talk about, it’s Tashi Duncan.
“Why did you invite me? Why did you want me in the crowd?” “Because I wanted you to see me play,” he answered without blinking, as if it was obvious. As if there wasn’t a single question I could ask him that he wouldn’t have an answer for. “You love Tashi, Art. You lo-” His lips were on mine the second I said it. Again, there was nothing calm or calculated about this kiss. He was trying to prove that he didn’t, that I was wrong. While we both knew I was right. “You can’t say things like that, Peaches. You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he mumbled as he pulled away from me to catch a breath. “It’s okay that you love her. I’ve made peace with it. I just need you to let me move on, Art,” I sighed, trying to catch my breath again. “I don’t fucking love her.” He was angry; I could hear it in his voice. “What do I have to do to make you understand that you’re the only girl for me?” He kissed me again, and I could feel him getting hard from the way he pressed against me, causing me to moan into his mouth. “Yeah? Is this the only way I can get through to you? Is this the only way you believe me?” he asked, running his lips down my neck. "Art," it was half a moan, half a cry. My eyes closed, and as they did, I felt the weight of his hands on my shoulders, pulling me down until I was on my knees in front of him. I unbuttoned his jeans and quickly pulled down his boxers. I felt almost possessed as he sat on the edge of my bed, forcing me to crawl toward him. “There we go. Is this the only way I need to treat you for you to understand your place?” he muttered as I knelt before him again. I felt a light slap on my cheek from his cock, much more humiliating than painful. “I asked you a question,” he continued.
“N-no,” I mumbled. “Even your voice is annoying me right now,” he muttered, and without warning, I felt his cock in my mouth. He didn’t give me a moment to adjust, punishing me for leaving the match, maybe for bringing up Tashi, maybe for everything combined. You could never tell with him. I felt him hitting the back of my throat, and I tried to suppress my gag reflex with little success. Three months since he’d been in my mouth showed signs. “Shhh, you can do better than that,” he half-stroked my hair, half-held me in place by it. Then he pulled me back, leaving a trail of spit and precum. “You’re such a mess,” he chuckled, and again I felt a light slap of his cock against my cheek. I put my lips back where I knew he needed them the most, and this time, there was no gentle stroking of my hair. There was only a hand forcing me to stay in place as he used my mouth however he wanted. “Nothing to say now, huh?” he said, not very coherently, as I began to feel the warm, thick liquid spill into my throat. “Atta girl,” he patted my hair twice before letting me pull back.
I stood up slowly, trying to catch my breath. “Come here,” he mumbled, pointing to his thigh. I can’t refuse Art Donaldson, so I sat on his lap, placing my hands on his neck in an almost embrace, watching him smile. “Why is everything so hard with you?” he muttered, and his lips lazily found my neck. “I just don’t know what you want from me,” I responded, trying to focus on anything other than his lips currently on my collarbone. “I told you I love you,” he mumbled, his eyes locking onto mine. “You don’t mean that,” I shot back.
“Oh yeah?” His smirk spread across his face, and in seconds, he tossed me onto the bed as if I weighed nothing. He was above me. “For now, the one acting like a brat is you,” he said, his presence casting a shadow over me like a predator playing with its prey. “The one who left in the middle of my match is you.” His lips again left trails on my skin. I don’t even know when he took my shirt off. I felt a light bite on my nipple that made me moan. “Fuck, fa- Art,” I mumbled, unable to focus. “The one avoiding interaction with my friends is you.” His hand joined in, starting to torture my other nipple as his kisses moved further down. “I’m not,” I managed to respond, just as he easily removed my panties.
His breaths hovered over my pussy, short and hot, and if I didn’t know Art Donaldson so well, I would’ve thought he was looking up at me with almost a pleading expression. But he was in complete control. A small kiss on my lips, but not where I really needed him, made me shift my hips a little, and he chuckled- a laugh that was almost childlike. “Hey, ask nicely,” he managed to say, and I returned to the position I had before, legs around his head. “Please, Art,” I knew there was no point in arguing; he always got what he wanted in the end. “No problem, baby,” in seconds, his tongue was on my clit, starting slowly with circular motions and picking up speed with every moment. “There you go, you’re almost there,” he muttered, pulling back just before I could come. “What-” I tried to catch my breath again, craving the euphoria only he could give me at that moment. “I want to be inside you,” he answered without waiting for the full question, and in an instant, his cock filled me, making me moan. “Fuck,” I managed to mumble, feeling my eyes roll back. “Hold on a little longer, Peach,” he said, slipping his finger into my mouth like he liked to do, watching my lips close around it. “Now,” he muttered, pushing it deeper into my throat while he thrust into me, feeling me tighten around him like only an orgasm from him could make me do.
He fucked me stupid. There’s no other way to describe what I experienced, and as we both tried to catch our breath, I wondered how long it would take for him to leave this time and what his excuse would be. “Don’t you have practice tomorrow?” I quietly asked, trying to throw him off balance for a moment. “No, but I don’t know anything for the stats exam,” he admitted and chuckled. “Art! I taught you all the material yesterday,” I rolled my eyes. “I can’t concentrate when you’re teaching me.” “Then why did you ask for help?” It was my turn to laugh. “Because you’re the most beautiful when you’re in your element,” he shrugged like it was obvious. Like hearing me talk about statistics would make him fall in love with me. Like it wasn’t what I felt two and a half hours ago when he played tennis, until I almost choked on love.
“When are you going home?” he asked, probably knowing my last exam was in statistics. “I’m not,” I replied casually, and he quickly shifted positions. “Why the hell not?” he asked, and I saw a small wrinkle form between his eyebrows. “It’s no big deal, Donaldson,” I chuckled, “I picked up extra shifts, and I have a paper to work on. Speaking of shifts, I need to get ready for mine.” I added as I checked the time. He watched me as I walked around the room, trying to decide if I smelled too much like sex to push the shower until after work. “Are you coming to the study marathon tomorrow before the exam?” he asked, starting to get dressed too. “Of course,” I looked at him like he was crazy. “Don’t think about skipping it, Art. You need it,” I said, knowing exactly who I was dealing with. “Okay, Mom,” his voice was amused, and I rolled my eyes, looking at him for another moment. We don’t get too many moments like these. Almost domestic. Almost mine.
"Hey, we're good, right?" he suddenly asked, holding my hand and not letting me continue running around the room. "Yeah, Art, everything's fine," I smiled half-heartedly, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Because I don't want another two months like these," he muttered, and I knew it was hard for him to admit. It was hard for him to say that the past two months had been strange, to say the least. Difficult, to be honest. "Me neither." I nodded at him. "When are you flying home?" I asked as we were both already outside the door, after I had locked it. "Four hours after the exam, I’m supposed to be on a flight," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Wow, two weeks at home, excited?" I asked. "Not that much, mostly glad I get to visit my grandma. She follows my matches with her entire retirement home, it’s a big deal for her." "Ooooh, you've got fans, Donaldson?" I joked. "You know I do," he replied. "Seriously though, why aren’t you going home?" he added. "It’s not that deep, just an opportunity to make some extra money. Plus, my mom and I aren’t in the best place right now," I shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. "Don’t you miss home?" he asked. "Not like most people probably do," I smiled at him. "I hate it when you smile like that," he said and suddenly stopped. "How?" I asked, looking at him as if he were crazy. "Without teeth. That’s your fake smile," he replied without blinking, as if it were strange that I was even asking. "I didn’t think you noticed," I mumbled. And I really didn’t think there was a possibility that Art Donaldson paid attention to details that, until now, I thought only I noticed about him. "I’ll see you tomorrow at the marathon?" he asked when we reached the point where I was supposed to head to the cafeteria and he to his dorm. "Don’t be late," I ordered, giving his face a small push, watching him chuckle and walk away from me. . . .
The next morning, I woke up with the worst headache I’d ever had in my life. I felt my nose was blocked, and I knew for sure I had a fever, though I had no way to measure it. 'Where are you?' -A-
'Sick, I’ll come for the exam' -(Y/N)-
'What’s wrong with you?' -A- I didn’t respond to that message, preferring to sleep a bit more before waking up for the statistics exam.
I got in the shower, and when I got out, I looked at myself in the mirror, seeing my flushed cheeks as a contrast to my pale face. There was no mistaking it when you looked at me- I wasn’t at my best. The auditorium was partially full when I entered, people chatting among themselves, and I looked around, seeing Art already staring at me before he approached, getting ahead of Janet, who shot me a questioning glance. "Well, you look like shit," he stated, placing his hand on my forehead. "Fuck, Peaches, you’re burning up," he muttered, looking at me with an almost angry expression. "How did you manage to start dying in the minute and a half I left you alone?" he said. "I’m talented, Donaldson. Can you not yell? My head hurts," I mumbled, sitting in the empty seat I found.
The exam went smoothly and ended faster than it began. I physically couldn’t wait for Art to finish, so I texted him, hoping he’d enjoy his time at home, and I went to sleep. Half an hour later, there was a knock at my door, chaotic like the one from the day before. "Hey," he muttered. "You’ll miss your flight," I replied, running a tired hand over my eyes. "I’m not flying," he said quickly. "What?" I asked, not understanding what he was talking about, seeing him take off his shirt and pants, left only in his boxers. "Art, I physically can’t have sex," I chuckled, not understanding what was happening. "We’re going to sleep," he declared, pulling me toward him, leaving me no choice but to get into bed next to him. "Your bed’s worse than mine. Tomorrow we’ll sleep at my dorm," he stated.
"You're going to get sick too" I rolled my eyes, "Why aren’t you going home?" I asked quietly, while his hand traced shapes on my shoulder. "It felt weird going home when you’re sick and staying here," he replied, not ashamed for a second. "Your grandma must be disappointed," I mumbled. "I told her my girlfriend is sick," he said. I wanted so badly to see his face, but I had my back to him. "She must’ve been surprised you have a girlfriend," I said the first thing that came to mind, feeling my heart race. "Not at all, I talk to her about you all the time."
. . .
So here it is. The second part I didn't plan. Hope you like it even tho I wrote half of it while being super sick and didn't check my own grammar at all, so bear with me (a reminder: English is not my first language). Let me know what you think. It's always the best part. Also, I think I'm up for some requests. Let's see what we can come up with. Love you guys
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Is There Somewhere?
A/N: This is not proofread and I am not perfect. There will be spelling and grammatical errors. No smut here. Just some angst and fluff 
Inspired by this song: Is There Somewhere by Halsey
THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION BASED ON THE AMAZING HUGH JACKMAN AND MY CRAZY IMAGINATION
Word Count: 2.0k
Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Age gap (referenced frequently), reader is in late twenties and Hugh is 55 
You and Hugh had been sleeping together since filming started for the marvel movie that you were both in. He had warned you in the beginning that you and him could be nothing more than good friends as far as anyone else was concerned. He told you that since you were only a few years older than his oldest child, he didn’t think that they would approve and that he really liked you but given the age difference there’s no way anything real could be there. At the time, you thought it’s okay, you weren’t gonna catch feelings. You verbally promised him that you would be fine and you wouldn’t want anything more than sex and friendship. He literally made you verbally promise him that you wouldn’t fall in love with him. As corny as that promise sounds, and you had actually laughed at the time thinking you could totally handle this. You fell for him a hell of a lot quicker than you thought possible. 
You were in denial about it for a long time. Even your friends had noticed there was change with you and that you were absolutely smitten with the secret friends with benefits you were in. Your friends knew you were hooking up with someone from the set, but they had no idea who it was. Not even Hugh’s best friend, Ryan, knew that you two were sleeping together. Everyone believed that you two were just good friends despite being love interests on screen and having “amazing on-screen chemistry”, no one suspected that there would be anything going on between you two. Truthfully as far as you were concerned, you couldn’t care less what anyone said or what anyone thought about your age difference. I mean you were almost 30, you were old enough to know what you wanted or even who you were in love with. 
You had rented an apartment where filming was located but you ended up staying at Hugh’s place more than your own. You finally accepted that you were in love with Hugh, when you were doing a press tour with him for the movie, this was a few months after filming finished, and while on this press tour, you both had often shared a hotel suite, unbeknownst to anyone else of course. You had both finished your interviews for the day. By the time you both were finished, it was around dinner time but neither of you had wanted to go anywhere but the hotel room and just finally relax. You had both agreed on ordering room service for the night. Your relationship, at this point, had developed beyond sex, and there was truly a friendship there. 
While you and Hugh were waiting for your food to come up, you and Hugh were currently smoking your cart while in the kitchen of the suite you both were staying in. You were sitting on the counter while he was singing and dancing around. He was wearing a white tank top with sweatpants and tube socks. He invited you over to dance with him by extending his hand out to you. You jumped off the counter to accept his offer and he playfully danced and sang with you til a knock at the door startled you both, making you both break out into laughter before you exited from view while he grabbed the food. It was that night that you finally accepted that you were completely in love with this man. He had been extremely flirtatious with you and playful. 
“So, y/n, I’m thinking of, maybe, pursuing a secret passion of mine.” Hugh told you after you two had finished eating.
“What? Porn?” You said, sarcastically but with a serious face. 
“Yeah, that’s exactly what it is. I’m glad that I didn't explain and that you just knew.” He responded seriously while looking you in the eyes before you started laughing, but then he continued. “No, you fucking jackass, and don’t make fucking fun of this, but poetry. I write poetry in my free time and I’ve got enough of it that I could publish it.”
“Oh, well, what kind of poetry?” You asked.
“Mostly just about life and some about parenthood.” He said sincerely.
“What about romantic poetry?” You asked him.
“Not really my thing.” He responded.
“I think that it’s really amazing that you write poetry and I think that you should absolutely publish it, if that’s what you wanted.” You responded with all sincerity.
You were an actress but you occasionally released original music. You did more of a hobby than a career. However, as your acting career grew, so did your music career. Only problem was, you wrote music based on events in your life. As a few weeks went by and some of the press tour was finished. Unfortunately for you, Ryan, had let it slip during a comic con that you had a special hook up friend, meaning you and Hugh had to be even more careful and you couldn’t really stay in the same room like you had done so many times before. You could feel it in your gut that it was wearing on Hugh’s mind, that someone was going to find out. It got to a point where he was practically avoiding you. 
You were in your own hotel room, watching some random show when your phone buzzed with a text from Hugh. It was your only two days off before the next leg of the press tour began.
“We need to talk. Is now a good time to come to your room?” As you reviewed the message, you felt tears come to your eyes, knowing in your heart that it was over. Your vision blurred as you typed out a simple “yes, now’s good.”
You fixed yourself up in the mirror before he came over. He took longer than you expected to get to your room. It was about twenty minutes after you sent him your room number that he showed up at your door. You let him in and he immediately began pacing the room, before finally settling on the be, while you stood leaning against the wall in front of him.
“Y/n, I need you to know that these last two years have been amazing.” He said with a sigh avoiding your gaze.
“Don’t.” You said, holding back tears while looking at him.
“We can’t do this anymore. There’s too much that could be jeopardized if anyone found out about you and I.” He went on, causing tears to build up in your eyes threatening to spill over. “If I was years younger or maybe you were older, we could work out.”
“If it’s truly over, then I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me that you feel absolutely nothing for me and that’s over.” You responded tears already falling, you wanted him to look you in the eyes and tell you because then maybe it’d be easier to move on.
Without missing a beat, he stood up from the bed keeping a fair amount of distance between you two before looking you in the eyes. “There is nothing more than friendship between you and I. There never will be, so this has to end.” 
You let the tears flow freely and a sob escaped you before you went on to tell him that he needs to leave. He did as you said but made sure to tell you if you ever need him, he’s always there for you. You almost scoffed at his words given how hurt you were. The funny thing is, there were moments when you two had been together that truly felt like love and now you wondered if you had been delusional in thinking so.
After a three month hiatus, the last leg of the press tour was beginning. You hadn’t spoken to Hugh since that night. You preferred it that way, you buried yourself in your creative outlets to keep him off your mind, but unfortunately, he was always on your mind. A month and a half after your last conversation with him, it became news that he had released a book of poetry. It wasn’t until 3 weeks after it’s release, that you learned it contained romantic poetry which Hugh had denied being something he’d do. Curiosity eventually got the best of you and you read some of the romantic passages on various sites. It didn’t take long for you to realize that he was referencing moments from yours and his relationship in his poetry which made you break down that day. Feelings that you had buried, coming to the surface.  
You decided to do what you do best. You wrote a song about it and fully intended to release it as quickly as you could. After you released the song, some celebrity gossip blogs put two and two together and speculated that you and Hugh had a “torrid” affair. You figured that the following verse of your song was what maybe gave it away. 
“You're writing lines about me; romantic poetry
They’ve got red in their cheeks, 'cause we're something they can’t see
And I try to refrain but you're stuck in my brain
And all I do is cry and complain because no one will be the same
I'm sorry but I fell in love that
I didn't mean to fall in love
You're looking like you fell in love tonight
Could we pretend that we're in love?”
You felt bad that someone had somehow figured it out but you figured since it was in the early stages of a rumor, you could deny it completely for Hugh’s sake. You didn’t want his relationships with his kids jeopardized because of you. You knew deep in your heart that you loved him and always would. You had a comic con panel with Hugh and Ryan coming up in a few hours and you were going to address the rumors. 
However, unbeknownst to you, after Hugh ended things with you, he was a wreck at first and ended up confronting everyone close to him about yours and his relationship. His kids didn’t approve at first, but upon seeing how genuine his emotions were when it came to you, they came around. They even helped him put a video together using your song with the hopes of winning you back. 
When you all were sat in the panel room, nearing the end when you all were doing Q/A, someone had asked about the rumors regarding you and Hugh. You were about to speak when Hugh cut you off. 
“You know, I think that now would be an excellent time to address those rumors and I would like to direct everyone's attention to the screen to get the perfect answer to that question.” He said, making you extremely confused as the lights dimmed and a video started playing.
As you watched the screen, you saw pictures of you and Hugh together throughout the last two and half years, with your song in the background. Nearing the end of the video, Hugh’s kids appeared on screen.
“Y/n, listen, our dad finally fessed up about you and him.” His son started.
“We were apprehensive at first, but we can see how much he cares about you.” His daughter continued.
“And we would like you both to be happy.” His son finished before in unison Hugh’s children said that you’d have their approval. Shortly after, the lights came back on and your eyes darted from the screen to Hugh, waiting for him to say something while there was hushed murmuring from the crowd.
“Y/n, I tried so hard to deny what I felt for you and I was so scared of what this meant that I pushed you away. I want to say that I love you and I hope that you still love me too.” He said.
“I love you too, Hugh.” You said before getting up from your seat and kissing him, causing Ryan to start clapping while the crowd followed, making you laugh.
You didn’t know what the future was going to hold, but you knew that as long as you had Hugh, you would be alright.
TAGLIST:
@enchantedbats
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yuurei20 · 3 hours
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Malleus Facts Part 68: Malleus and Kalim (pt1)
When Malleus learns that Vil and Kalim will be participating in the VDC he says, “that should be quite the spectacle,” and that Kalim’s wolf howl for Halloween “lacks intensity, but it does have charm.”
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When Crowley notices Malleus has failed to attend the opening ceremonies at the beginning of the school year, Kalim asks if no one invited him.
Vil says that Kalim is welcome to tell him himself if he is so worried and Kalim responds, “I don’t know him too well either…”
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When Malleus fails to attend the housewarden meeting in his dorm vignette Kalim says that he had assumed that someone else had reached out to him.
The group refuses to form a search party to hunt Malleus down for the meeting and Lilia pretends to be upset, leading Kalim to say that he would love to help if there was some way he could.
Azul tells him that Malleus’ problem cannot be solved by “simply lending a helping hand,” and it is revealed that Lilia was faking his tears.
Later on Leona says that nothing is going to change and Malleus will not be attending their next meeting, either, so Kalim volunteers to fetch him.
Leona says that it defeats the whole purpose if Malleus does not take the initiative.
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Malleus says he has never been invited to a large party. Kalim says, “I’ll invite you to one of mine sometime! You’ve gotta come!" Malleus responds, “You would invite me? How interesting. Then I shall await the arrival of your invitation…if you have it in you to do so.”
Malleus says that he would like to accept an invitation to Kalim’s mansion (if he were to receive one).
While it seems Kalim has yet to invite Malleus anywhere, Malleus says that Kalim celebrated his birthday by showering flower petals over his head.
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Jamil is very reluctant to allow Malleus to join the Firelit Sky group without an escort—his first time on his own. He says he plans to make the most of it for Lilia’s sake, but Jamil insists that if something happens to him, it could set off an international incident.
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Malleus says that someone of Jamil’s magical ability needn’t worry about him as he is “hardly fragile,” and mentions how Jamil’s expression seems to say that he believes him to be a nuisance.
Malleus says, “I was under the impression I had been invited,” and Trey says he hears thunder, despite how the weather had been clear.
Malleus’ sinking mood combined with Kalim’s insistence that showing his friends around his hometown is normal forces Jamil’s hand and Cater says, “Malleus and Kalim are so blissfully unaware of the struggles of those around them. They’re just little balls of sunshine!”
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storytowrite · 2 days
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|You will always be mine ~ Lee Minho series|
PART 1
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Paring: Minho x Y/N
Genre: smut, angst, university au
Word count: 732
Warnings: sex, 18+, Minho is a psycho, dom!Minho, sub!reader, abuse, slight BDSM, kidnapping, violence, age gap, Minho is an university professor, Y/N can be hurt physically (and mentally too I guess).
Synopsis: Who knew that accidental fuck in the club bathroom with a handsome man will bring you to a lot of unexpected events.
Author's note: I kept this series for a really long time not sure if I want to post it or not, but I decided to do it anyway, so I hope you'll like it.
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"Faster!" You moaned as his member thrust deeper and deeper into you "…Yeah!” You dug your nails into his biceps, your back pressed against the cold tiles of the club bathroom. He held you tight against your thighs, his thumbs making gentle circles on your skin. Your bodies rubbed against each other rhythmically.
"Just a little more sunshine, hold on a little longer." He moaned into your ear. After a few more thrusts, you both ended up in spasms of pleasure. You rested your head against his chest, regulating your breathing. “You're pretty good, honey, you know?” He asked, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead.
"Thanks." You only murmured and smiled slightly at him, "You're not that bad either."
The man laughed softly. He pulled away from you after a moment and helped you get dressed, then pulled on his ankle-length trousers and straightened his rumpled shirt. He wasn't the tallest man you had ever known, but he was certainly one of the most experienced. You didn't know his name, didn't need to. You knew you wouldn't see him again, after all so why care? 
"I'll go first." The man said, breaking the momentary silence that fell between the two of you. "After all, it's the women's bathroom…”
"Mhm, sure," You replied, "That's…”
"See you later." The man said before you could finish, then left, leaving you alone in the club bathroom. You sighed softly and adjusted yourself in front of the mirror. It was quite good sex. You thought and with a smile on your lips left the bathroom. “Time to find the rest of the crew.” You muttered to yourself and went in search of your friends who had long been lost in the crowd of bodies, swaying to the music.
You didn't come alone to the club. No. It wouldn't have been prudent of you, though you weren't the most prudent person anyway. Your friend Jeno disappeared into the crowd, dancing with every woman he met. You sighed softly, going to clubs with Jeno always ended like this, in separation, each of you finding more interesting company to spend the evening than your own.
However, this time you did not come to the club with Jeno only. His older cousin Jungwoo decided to go with the two of you too. You liked Jungwoo even though you didn't interact much with each other. He wasn't in the city often because of his studies, but that was about to change as he got a scholarship to the same college where you studied. You were curious if he would actually transfer.
You stood between the dance floor and the bar and looked for your friend. Jeno had long since disappeared from your sight, with some brunette, so you hoped that maybe at least Jungwoo was somewhere nearby. You didn't want to spend the rest of the party on the couch against the wall. You were about to give up when you heard a familiar voice behind you.
“Y/N! you are here! Where have you gone? I couldn't find you anywhere. Oh my God! Is that a hickey?!” Jungwoo stood, as if on cue, right in front of you..
“Hi. Woo…” You said, slightly amused. “Yes, it's a hickey, let's say I had an interesting meeting in the bathroom.”
“Mhm, I think I already know what kind of an interesting meeting…” He said with the face of an expert.
“And you? Are you having fun?” You asked before he started peppering you with questions about the man you’d had passionate, albeit quick, sex with in the bathroom a moment earlier. Jungwoo smiled widely at you.
"I have the bartender's number." He said proudly. "You don't even know how hard it was for me to get it. But he looks gorgeous! Plus, I got free drinks, so I guess he liked me.”
"Hey, I want free drinks too!" You said with a little jealousy in your voice.
“Then pick up the bartender.” Jungwoo laughed and was about to offer you drinks, when Jeno approached the two of you, not quite in a good mood though. One of his eyes slowly turned purple. “Oh, what happened?” Asked his cousin.
“It turned out that the girl I went with was not alone in the club.” Murmured Jeno. “Her boyfriend decided to step in... let's go home, I have to put ice on myself.”
<- Series Masterlist | Part 2 ->
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yanderenightmare · 2 days
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heya! do you have any more writing tips for writing on tumblr? like, any tips to get as much attention as you, kinda
Oh yes.
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♡ Post in different lengths!
Or, more precisely, don’t only post long full-fics with multiple chapters.
I know it sounds weird, but the more effort you put into something doesn’t actually guarantee more payoff. Why would anyone read your hour-long fic if they have no previous experience with your writing that gives you credibility? In other words, how can they know spending an hour reading your writing is worth it?
More people are likely to grab a bite-sized appetizer than they are to sit down for a full five-course meal.
But! The more people like those bite-sized appetizers, the more likely they are to want to sit down for that full five-course meal, you know?
Think of those bite-sized appetizers as taste tests—kind of like commercials that bring more people in to give your actual meals a try.
Also, writing in different lengths is good for you! Only writing hour-long stuff makes you burn out quickly, which brings me to my next tip:
♡ Post often!
If you can, try posting something every day. Of course, you can’t post full hour-long fics every day, which is where writing smaller things such as drabbles, headcanons, and tiny prompts come in. Think of them as flings you have in between your long-term relationships. They’re fun little things good for your health!
But anyway, here’s a tip for when you do have those long-term relationships—as in, when you want to write full-fics or longer posts in general:
♡ Start with a hook! 
My attention should be seized by the first paragraph, if not the very first sentence I read. This is so important.
I’m a very picky reader sometimes—so if that first line doesn’t interest me, I’ll be fast to scroll to find something more enticing. And you can be sure a lot of readers are the same.
Under are some examples of my own start-liners.
Something foreboding:
There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.
The plot:
Thinking about the big and burly behemoth Omega finally finding himself the cutest little Alpha to breed with…
Something catchy:
Give a brat an inch, and they'll take a mile. 
Something snappy:
You’re his favorite whore…
Dialogue:
“Feels like you’re luring me into some trap.”
A prompt:
Yanderes who keep you higher than a kite…
In medias res:
You lay on your belly on the bed.
Anyway, they don’t have to be groundbreaking—just anything that will spike interest in the reader.
♡ Write for different characters! And try writing inserts!
Inserts are when you don’t name any specific character in the story but either give options for what characters your audience can imagine or leave it completely up to them. This works best if you have a nice starter-line that tells you what kind of character this is without naming them.
Examples:
Bruiser boyfriend
Ex-military Yandere
Benevolently sexist boyfriend
Creep Step-bro
You can go further and identity the reader as well:
Big, brawny, chubby-muscled Boss and his perfectly bite-sized assistant
In other words, people like to know what they’re about to read before they start.
Otherwise and lastly:
♡ Something logistic you can have in mind is making your writing accessible. 
Say I like one of your posts, and I click your profile to check you and your other posts out, but all I see when I scroll through your blog is endless reblogs and one-off comments about this and that. My second instinct is to check out your Masterlist. If you don’t have one, my mission is fraught, and I’ll be out of there quickly. If you do have one, but it’s messy, then my patience will wane, and again, I’ll be out post-haste. 
The bottomline is to have a neat pinned post that makes it easy to navigate your blog, with all your relevant stuff easily accessible. Check out mine for reference. But the most important is for it to include your rules, how to request, and your masterlists.
Then, of course, this is obvious, but:
♡ Things take time
I’ve been running @yanderenightmare since 2020. Back then, it took me half a year to get my first 1000 followers. And most of my posts would only get about 500 or so likes. And, that’s another thing—if I was doing it for the likes and follows I probably wouldn’t still be here, so make sure you enjoy what you’re writing and stuff. If you have that conviction, then the rest is just a nice bonus.
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yanderes-galore · 1 day
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'ello! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ Good luck with all requests! Including mine ;)
Can you write yandere concept for Lyney (genshin impact)?
Sure! I warn you, I stopped playing after Inazuma (My team sucked) so I am going based off analysis videos and scenes. I like his character, good story potential :)
Yandere! Lyney Concept
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Overprotective/Possessive behavior, Threats, Blackmail, Isolation, Implied murder, Kidnapping, Drugging, Dubious/Forced relationship.
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Magicians already are masters at deception.
But magicians who are spies?
They're the masters.
Lyney knows how to deceive and perform.
He cares for his loved ones and everyone knows him for his tricks.
He acts charismatic, romantic, and extroverted to the crowd.
But deep down he's always listening for new potential info.
Meeting Lyney for you was probably by chance.
Lyney lives for the stage and proves himself.
Him growing interested in an audience member could be a potential way to meet his obsession.
Lyney is slow to trust people, yet you manage to catch his eye.
You came to Fontaine to explore the sights.
That was your original intention to be in the region, simply a traveler passing through.
You meet Lyney at his show as he was performing with his sister, Lynette.
You should've been just another face in the crowd.
However, to Lyney, you were a constant distraction in his show.
Imagine if after the show, Lyney came up to you for a chat.
There's just something about you that's caught his eye.
Making him determined to find out what.
That's about how I imagine you meet.
He chats with you after the show, learning more about you.
While he keeps his guard and acts up... Lyney seems genuinely interested.
The magician naturally comes off as flirtatious when speaking to people.
Many describe him as romantic in his shows, making roses appear with a wink.
He's playful and often speaks with honeyed words.
Even if he just means to deceive.
Lyney's first encounter with you is originally to gain info or playfully flirt.
Yet as he leaves that encounter and you part ways...
He's left wanting more.
Lyney's true nature is often more secretive and mysterious than his typical persona.
He's part of the Fatui... skilled in stealth, blackmail, infiltration, and theft...
See where I'm going with this?
For someone who seems so extroverted and flirtatious... He's strategic.
Lyney may not look like it, yet I can see him as a dangerous yandere.
Everything about him is smoke and mirrors.
He could easily deceive his obsession and hide all of his yandere tendencies.
I wouldn't necessarily say he's bad in terms of violence though.
Lyney doesn't seem like the type to murder rivals.
No, I feel he prefers to use his mysterious charisma to his advantage.
As I said before, many of his Fatui jobs require stealth and espionage.
He can easily follow anyone, be that his obsession or someone he doesn't like close to them.
Like a cat, he stalks his prey (Fitting due to his genetics, I suppose).
As a spy he's quite skilled at gathering information.
If he wants to know so much more about you... It won't be that difficult to get what he wants.
Pretty soon, especially when he's obsessed, he'll know everything he can about you as his obsession.
Now... Lyney knows how to use blackmail.
He'd probably use it on his rivals more than his obsession though.
After all, what's a better way to remove someone from your obsession than threats?
Lyney would gather so much dirt on potential rivals just to have control over them.
Then they'd have to stay away from you... unless they want important info spread?
It would be such a shame if he had to leak some info that would ruin his rivals image in your eyes.
However, he'll keep quiet if they just stay away from you on their own.
In terms of blackmailing his obsession...
Lyney may keep important info about you tucked away for later
Especially if it's scandalous.
That way, if you try to leave him or refuse his confession?
He has you wrapped around his finger.
Infiltration and theft is self-explanatory.
Lyney could easily sneak into where you're staying to rummage around your belongings or watch you.
He's as quiet as a cat on the hunt, eyes on you at all times.
Lyney probably could easily steal from you by distracting you too.
He could distract you with a trick... just to steal a trinket for him to cherish later.
Lyney can easily mess with his obsession.
He's another subtle yandere, but that's expected of a Fatui spy.
You'd be too caught up in his charisma and tricks to notice him removing people around you.
While I said he'd most likely not murder and just manipulate...
Nothing's stopping him from marking someone for death.
After all, Arlecchino may be up for helping one of her children out.
Then it can be covered up.
Lyney is dangerous to you due to how deceptive he is.
It's impossible to know what's true with him.
The only thing true for him is his supposed love for you.
But even then, said love isn't love.
It's an obsession.
Due to his skills, I can see Lyney preparing to kidnap his beloved as a back up plan.
If he can't naturally charm you with roses and sweet affection... He has other means.
Lyney's patient.
He can wait for you to fall for him, to slowly cling to him once more people start leaving you.
Yet if that doesn't work... or you suspect him?
Maybe he needs to use that back up plan.
Perhaps Lyney has one more trick up his sleeve when it comes to you.
Maybe he invites you to Hotel Debord in order to have dinner with you.
He's all smiles as he sits with you, giving you a rose as if it's some date.
Then, with a slight of hand, he slips something into your meal... and you wake up somewhere unfamiliar.
Lyney doesn't mind fooling his beloved.
Fooling you is how he makes you his.
How could he feel guilty when he has you all to himself?
Once he has you locked away, all for himself in your own special room he had set up, nothing's stopping him from caressing your cheek
Nothing's stopping him from holding you close.
Nothing's stopping him from kissing your skin, purring sweet nothings in your ear...
Nothing but you, that is...
Yet with time, even that fight will fade...
No one can resist his charm for long.
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zeeinkzquill · 2 days
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Zooble Headcannon / Theory I Have Now (Leave a comment on my thoughts if you want)
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I had to make a post about Zobble therapy chair clip therapy because honestly SAME.
But I feel like this episode is going to be one of the only times that we cracked Zooble open as a person.
I'ma put my 2 cents into what I think bc they scratch my in a way that I can't explain. And though I'm going through my mental health struggles and such I am in no way am I professional so take what I say with a grain of salt (or just ignore it if you hates it).
When I first saw their design I was like "Woah I don't know where to look at!" then ep 2 came out with their design changed and I was like "Hmmm that's interesting"
this led me to think about many things, especially how they view themselves identity-wise. Bc about a week ago I was talking to someone about the identity that Carvial Jax may have. I learned something new that day and I took that idea and looked back at Zooble.
And part of me feels like that's why Zooble may change how they look bc of how they view themselves identity-wise. And Part of me feels like that why their designed that way. Like a jumbled mess. Mayber Bc that how they view themselves??? (If you explain this well OR disagree with me leave a comment. I wanna learn more about this and what others in the community think!)
And part of me thinks Caine might take an interest in this and try to help them (or at least try to bc he's a computer lol)
IK this lil thought dump of mine is messy and weird but if you guys understand what I'm saying give me your thoughts. I find each character interesting in their own lil way so I might do more of these but what do you guys think about Zooble as a character.
Have a nice day yall💫
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rexonalapis · 26 days
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tired of science defying mpreg wriolette fanworks. these two a thousand percent would adopt. show me their thought process to adopt. better yet, the logistics and paperworks needed for adoption. moments of acceptance, where the couple sees a kid and think they want to love this little one, and watch them flourish into the best version they can be, and the kid who sees the couple and decide to trust these strangers with their ife, hopefully to never be abandoned ever again.
you think kids can only be biological even in the realm of endless possibilities and that's kind of lame.
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silver-horse · 1 year
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if we are talking about the lost dream lover/daisy scenes from act 1 then we should talk about why those scenes were so good and why the loss of that storyline is so disappointing. because it's not just "oh those scenes looked better or whatever" it was a completely different character and storyline.
even though the companions pushed back way more and the whole narrative was telling you to resist the dream lover, it was somehow far more tempting. you were constantly tempted in dialogues to use your powers and if you did, you slowly started to lose yourself, the narrator said you could feel something slipping away, something you will never get back. You were giving yourself over to the fantasy, a mindflayer illusion
the game asked you during character creation "who do you dream of at night?" obviously meaning "what are you attracted to?" rather than just "you need a guardian. choose one." there is already a different implication there. I wonder how people interpret "guardian" if they don't know about the original dream lover. they might not even create someone they find tempting. a guardian sounds more like a mentor figure, rather than your ideal fantasy partner.
During early access the dream lover not only offered us power, they also showed us a tempting future where we are powerful and important and beloved and we are ruling the world. such universal temptations and desires. and we were resting on a peaceful field with the person of our dreams. it was peace in the dream world vs the real life struggle.
In the end it seemed obvious where this was leading... if you use the tadpole too much, you would have turned into a mindflayer. and whatever is left of your individuality and consciousness would have stayed in that fantasy world with your perfect fantasy partner. the mindflayer illusion forever trapped you. the song "Down by the River" was written about this fantasy dream lover. and what a banger and creative storyline this could have been. what a tragic ending! to just give up, lose yourself in the fantasy, the easy way out. choose this beautiful fantasy over the imperfect real world. and choose your perfect imaginary partner over the flawed real people, your companions. truly I mourn what an incredible storyline this could have been. It would have resonated with basically everyone.
and you would have been constantly tempted. to avoid this fate you would need to struggle constantly while the easy fantasy is dangling in front of your face with a zero difficulty ability check.
turning into a mindflayer wouldn't have been something you have the option to choose. and you can get cured no matter how much you indulged in the tadpole powers. lmao I kinda hate that there is no consequence for any of that now
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curseofdelos · 6 months
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I finished re-reading TLH recently, and I want to talk about the common fan interpretation of Piper as a pick me girl for a sec (let me preface this whole post by clarifying that while this is ultimately a defense of Piper as a character, it is also a critique of how Rick wrote her, Drew, and the rest of cabin 10)
The way cabin 10 is written in the books has never been great. Very early on in TLT, Rick makes a point to establish that Aphrodite had both sons and daughters:
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Take note of how Rick explicitly genders Aphrodite kids in this paragraph, but uses the gender neutral "kids" to refer to the children of every other god. This is a very deliberate writing choice, and I can't think of any reason why he would have done this other than to (initially anyway) avoid associating womanhood with vanity/interest in personal appearances.
...And then in every book after this, cabin 10 heavily skews female, and traditional femininity becomes the butt of almost every joke about them.
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Cabin 10 doesn't get any real focus until TLH with the introduction of Piper, Drew, and the rest of Cabin 10, in which Rick spends a lot of time establishing how different Piper is from the rest of her cabin because she rejects traditional femininity. Piper cuts her own hair, she doesn't wear makeup or care about fashion, she hates dresses etc. This is in direct contrast with Drew who's often described as wearing heavy makeup, having perfectly done hair, manicured nails etc.
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Note that Piper's description of Drew's appearance is fairly neutral. Her problem with Drew is not in how she chooses to dress, but in her behaviour.
This would be fine if it weren't for the fact that every time Drew's appearance is described, it is directly preceded and/or followed by her doing something heinous. She insults and degrades Piper's appearance within seconds of meeting her, and we see this again in the Cabin 10 scene where she bullies and manipulates their siblings - kicking them out of the bathroom mid-shower, dumping a bin filled with used tampons on the floor and making them clean it up, etc.
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Piper and Drew are in direct competition throughout the entirety of TLH. Piper strongly disapproves of the way Drew runs the cabin, they have differing opinions on Silena Beauregard (despite the fact Piper doesn't actually know her but I digress), and they're both interested in pursuing Jason romantically - Piper out of genuine attraction, and Drew out of the desire to break his heart for the Aphrodite Rite of Passage.
The narrative at every turn pits them against each other. Piper's intentions are always painted as pure and kindhearted while Drew is consistently characterised as a stereotypical mean girl who hurts others simply because she can. Drew is never given any motivation for acting the way she does, and her sole role in the story is to act as an obstacle for Piper to overcome so she could become counsellor (which is kind of pointless considering Piper never interacts with her cabin again after this). She's flat and two-dimensional, and never gets any real character development. Her sole personality trait is mean.
The result of all of this is that traditional femininity gets associated with shitty behaviour, while the rejection of traditional femininity gets associated with kindness and generosity. It should be stressed that Piper herself doesn't actually think that she's better than Drew because she doesn't wear makeup etc; Piper's issues entirely lie with Drew's behaviour. The worst Piper ever says is calling all of cabin 10 "shallow" which is no different to how the other characters talk about them (which is still a problem to be clear; it's just not a problem with Piper specifically, but how the narrative characterises cabin 10 as a whole). It's the narrative that paints femininity as lesser because of the way it positions tomboy Piper (the protagonist) as a better person than highly feminine Drew (the antagonist).
In fact, the most explicitly we ever see the book paint Piper's appearance as preferable to Drew's is in Jason's POV - not Piper's. After Piper gets claimed and Aphrodite changes her appearance, Jason spends several chapters going on and on about how much more beautiful and desirable Piper is when she's not dressed up or wearing makeup.
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Because of all of this, it's not difficult to see why so many people in this fandom have interpreted Piper as a pick me 'not like other girls' type girl. The narrative constantly presents her as a better person than the more feminine Drew, and Jason (the boy they're competing over) chooses her at least partly because of how naturally beautiful she is without trying.
However, even though I do understand where this interpretation of her character came from, I do want to push back on it for a number of reasons.
Firstly, it is explicitly stated several times in TLH that the reasons Piper doesn't wear makeup and cuts her own hair is because (1) she doesn't like being the centre of attention (see the first screenshot of this post), and (2) she's rebelling against her father.
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Piper's entire character arc in TLH centres around her initially being insecure at the start of the book to becoming more confident over the course of their quest. It is stated on several occasions early on that Piper doesn't like being the centre of attention, but by the end, she feels more comfortable in her own skin. She goes from being embarrassed/hurt by Drew's comments about her to laughing them off and standing up to her by the end.
The term "pick me girl" refers to girls who do things for external, mostly male validation. This is the exact opposite of why Piper doesn't wear makeup or conform to traditional femininity. She does this precisely because she does NOT want to draw attention to herself. The only male who's attention she is trying to get is her father's, and she's doing this by acting out in ways he doesn't approve of. Piper does want validation from her father, but she's not cutting her own hair to get his validation; she's so starved for affection that she wants any attention from him, even if that attention is negative.
Similarly, a major point of conflict for Piper is whether or not Jason is attracted to her, but she is not rejecting feminine things because she wants to impress him Jason does find those qualities in her attractive, but Piper held these opinions long before they even met. It was Jason/the narrative that paints those qualities in Piper attractive, not Piper herself. (Side note: there's a lot more to be said about how their relationship was written in TLH, but that isn't relevant to get into that here.)
The other reason why I want to push back on the interpretation of Piper as a pick me girl is that she's a queer woman. In a straight patriarchal society, women (women of colour especially) are often expected and pressured to perform gender in particular ways - wearing makeup, dressing femininely, being attracted to boys and exclusively boys. In much the same way that Piper's coming out now makes it possible to read her relationship with Jason as compulsory heterosexuality, it's also possible to read her discomfort with traditional femininity as discomfort with being a straight girl. It's possible to retroactively read Piper's dislike for feminine things as her feeling uncomfortable with heterosexuality but is too closeted at this point to realise it. She does, after all, cut her hair very short at the end of TBM while she is the process of exploring her sexuality.
(To be clear: I'm not arguing that this is what Rick had always intended for her - I assume he expected Jason/Piper would be endgame at the time he was writing TLH - but I do think there's a 'death of the author' interpretation available here that her hatred of dresses etc is an early sign of her being a closeted queer woman who is beginning to explore her gender presentation and sexuality.)
I feel that sometimes, in their efforts to (rightly) criticise the way femininity gets treated in this series, some people act as if makeup is in intrinsic part of womanhood and that Piper is a misogynist for not wanting to wear it. This is not true. It is not inherently misogynistic for a woman to dislike it - especially when that woman is queer, and especially in today's society where many women are pressured into wearing makeup to be taken seriously. Piper disliking makeup is not the problem.
The problem with Piper's story in TLH is that the narrative consistently presents her as a better person than the more feminine Drew, and a more desirable option for Jason because of how beautiful she is without trying really hard like Drew and the other Aphrodite girls do. Because every highly feminine character is either a villain (Drew) or a joke (Valentina in TOA), the result of Piper and Drew's rivalry is that femininity gets demonised by the narrative. Again, it's not that Piper herself thinks she's better than Drew for hating fashion; it's the way the story puts these characters in opposition to each other that results in femininity being framed as lesser.
I think a writer with a better grasp of women's issues (and queer women's issues especially) could have written a great story here on gender as a performance, and an exploration on conforming (Drew) VS rebelling (Piper) against gender norms! How there really is no winning and women get harassed for being too feminine AND for not being feminine enough (See: the jokes about Clarisse in PJO not being a girl/being manly because she's violent and rough around the edges)! What we got instead was a story that carries the deeply unfortunate implication that girls who don't care about their appearance are kinder and more desirable than girls who do.
It's not Piper that's the problem; it's the narrative. I think a lot of people have been conflating the two, and have been unfairly pinning the blame onto Piper's characterisation when the fault lies with the plot, and with Drew's characterisation as a flat two-dimensional mean girl stereotype. I think if Drew had been given a redemption arc like Clarisse, or some amount of depth that explains why she hates Silena and acts the way she does, or even if she and Piper had learned to respect each other despite their differences, then we would be having a very different conversation.
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firehose118 · 3 months
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“We’re just helping each other out on a long shift. It’s not gay,” Sal says into the air of the empty station bathroom as he wraps a hand around Tommy’s dick, and then in the same breath, “No one can ever know.”
Tommy nods, too far gone in the fantasy-come-to-life of what’s happening to dwell on the irony there. He’ll pick that apart later. For now, he has what he’s craved for so long within his grasp, he just has to reach out and take it.
He gets his hand on Sal’s dick in return and revels in the way it twitches under his touch. Tommy wants to moan with how good it feels to touch another man like this, to be touched by one. But he has to pretend this is friend stuff—normal straight guy shit, not the stuff of waking wet dreams—or else it will be taken away from him.
{finish on ao3 or continue below}
Tommy tries to match Sal’s pace: hard, fast, efficient. He thumbs through the liquid gathering at the head, twists his hand on the upstroke, but doesn’t let himself linger—even as his body is screaming for him to slow down and savor it. This might be his first and last chance to have this.
The way Sal is looking right at him is unexpected. He’d thought Sal would look away, pick a tile on the wall and stare at it, pretend this isn’t happening, but no: Sal is in it, studying Tommy’s face in that passive slack-jawed way of his. Tommy keeps his expression carefully neutral but he’s worried even that will give him away.
Sal’s mouth drops open on a silent moan when Tommy’s thumb drags along the vein on the underside just right, so Tommy does it again harder. He wants Sal to like this. He wants Sal to want to do this again.
Tommy is losing focus quickly. Sal isn’t working as hard to impress him, isn’t pulling out different moves to see what he likes, but his hand is big and warm and calloused and masculine around Tommy’s dick and it really doesn’t need to do anything else to have him panting and leaking.
He’s thought about this so many times and the reality of it is even better than he could have imagined. Every bit of energy he’s not using to give Sal the handjob of his life he’s putting into not whining and humping Sal’s hand like a dog.
He takes half a step forward before he can stop himself; needing to be closer. Sal huffs but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t step back.
They’re so close to each other now that Tommy could wrap his hand around both of their dicks and jerk them off like that. He knows it would feel good, wants it more than anything in this moment, but it would be a definitive step over the ‘not gay’ line into territory he’s not sure Sal will follow him willingly. It’s this or nothing, so Tommy chooses this.
“You close?” Tommy asks. He is. He can already feel it rising in his stomach, his balls, licking along his spine. He wants Sal to come first, to hide whatever his own orgasm is going to look like in the mists of Sal’s pleasure.
Sal nods. His face is inches away from Tommy’s and he looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t.
When it happens, Tommy feels it. He doesn’t know why he didn’t expect to—he always feels the pulsing of his own dick as he comes—but to feel another man’s dick twitch and spasm as it shoots warm into his hand has Tommy biting back a moan so quickly he chokes on it.
Sal comes with a low groan and Tommy is helpless to follow. For as long as he’s wanted this—wanted Sal—he thinks he could’ve come from that sound alone, but the way Sal’s big hand tightens on the next few strokes is the last thing he needs to send him hurtling over the edge.
Tommy’s forehead drops to Sal’s shoulder without permission and he keens high in his throat as the pleasure rips through him. It’s easily the best orgasm he’s had in years and he’s instantly terrified of what that means.
He shoves it down. Later. He’ll think about that later.
Tommy pants, coming back to himself, and he gives himself two more seconds of physical contact with Sal before he pulls back completely.
They both lean against the hard tile wall of the bathroom and catch their breaths.
“Good?” Tommy asks, giving a joking half-smile. He knows the answer but it seems like a safe enough way to start talking again.
“Jesus, kid,” Sal laughs. “Yeah. It was good. Where the fuck’d you learn how to do that?”
He grabs some paper towels to wipe his hand off, then gives them to Tommy to do the same.
“Lonely childhood,” Tommy says. It’s true but it’s not the answer. “Dad had a lot of porn mags he’d leave around. I spent a lot of time jerking off. Figured yours doesn’t work too differently from mine.”
That look is back in Sal’s eyes like he wants to say something, but he stays quiet again. He just shakes his head and laughs.
Sal walks towards the door but stops before he opens it. “Give it a few,” he says. He doesn’t look back at Tommy but he has a small smile on his lips still. Tommy takes that as a win.
Sal leaves and Tommy is left alone with the enormity of what just happened. It was good. It was hot. Sal clearly doesn’t hate him, isn’t disgusted by him. He seemed almost… intrigued.
Tommy will sort out the shame and elation he feels swirling inside of himself like oil and water later.
For now, he washes his hands, splashes some water on his face, and gets back to work.
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backslashdelta · 11 months
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How To Gif: Glass Shatter Effect
By popular demand (ie, 7 people who voted in this poll), here is a tutorial on how to do the glass shatter effect I used to create the first gif in this set.
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I use Photoshop CC 2015 (yes I know it's old) for my gifmaking, but you should be able to apply everything to newer versions of Photoshop. For this tutorial I'll be assuming you know the gifmaking basics, but if not, I would recommend this tutorial, which is the process I use to make gifs. Note that this particular process involves saving all of the frames, importing those frames into Photoshop, and then using an action to convert to a smart object.
Keep reading below the cut to learn how to do this effect!
Before I could start making this gif, I needed three things; the two scenes that I wanted to use, and a video of the glass shattering effect. I already knew the scenes I wanted, so then I took to YouTube to find a video which I can't for the life of me find again (edit: thanks to add1ctedt0you in the replies for linking this video!), but it looked like this:
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Something like this is what you want. Ideally the green part would be entirely white, but as long as there are two clearly different colours you can usually work with it.
This looks a lot slower than the gif that I made, but that's not because of the frame rate - which is exactly the same above as in the final gif - it's just because there are extra frames in this slower one that I cut out. In the video I used, the glass shattering happened very slowly. I didn't want that, so I ended up skipping several frames when I loaded the frames into Photoshop before using my gifmaking action. I just did this by manually selecting one frame, skipping the next several before selecting another frame, and repeating this until I had selected 60 frames.
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After using my gif action, I had a smart object of the glass shatter effect that looked like this:
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That's a much better speed! It still wasn't quite where I needed it to be though. I needed this in black and white, so I slapped a hue/saturation adjustment on the smart object and set the saturation all the way down to -100.
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Okay great, I could start putting the gif together now.
First, I made a copy of the glass shatter smart object, because I'll need that later. Then, I pulled in frames from the scene that I wanted to appear in the hole after the glass shatters, and I used those to create a new smart object with my gif action (we'll call it Scene-bg). I pulled Scene-bg into the same window as the glass shatter objects. Then I created a new smart object by combining one of the glass shatter objects with Scene-bg, which I did by selecting both layers right clicking, and selecting "Convert to Smart Object".
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I renamed this smart object to Shatter-fg. I opened it by clicking on the little icon next to the layer name in the layers window here:
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The most important thing here is that the shatter effect object should be the top layer, and I set the mode to "lighten". This will make sure that the lightest colour of either this layer and the layer behind it is displayed; that means that anywhere that's white in our shatter animation will still show up, but anywhere that's black we'll see what's in the layer(s) behind it.
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Then I threw some adjustment layers between them to get the colouring I wanted. I used a curves layer, a hue/saturation layer, and I also added text with an outer glow layer effect. Here's what the layer order looked like and the settings I used for each layer:
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After this process, Shatter-fg looked like this:
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Okay nice, this is starting to look like something! I saved this and went back to the main file with the other glass shatter object.
I needed to invert that other glass shatter object. There's a weird quirk with the version of Photoshop that I use where it doesn't like it when I apply specifically an invert adjustment to a smart object (it appears correctly when editing, but not on export) so I did this by creating a new smart object which included a separate invert layer, but if you have a newer version of Photoshop you can probably just apply the invert adjustment directly. Just note that you'll need to do one of these options; it won't work if you add a separate adjustment layer in the main file, it needs to be applied specifically to the smart object (which we'll now be calling Shatter-bg). It looked like this after I inverted it:
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Once that's done, I made sure Shatter-fg was the layer directly above Shatter-bg, and set the mode of Shatter-fg to "darken" and Shatter-bg to "lighten". Since Shatter-fg is set to darken, it will be visible only when it is darker than the layer behind it. By setting Shatter-bg to lighten, I've guaranteed that the layer behind it will always be lighter (ie, white) in the places we want Shatter-fg to be visible, and will be black otherwise. Once I update those settings, this is what the gif looked like:
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This is all there is to the glass shatter effect itself. Next I pulled in frames from the second scene to fill in the black areas. This layer needed to go below both glass shatter layers, so that it only shows through where the black. Then I added adjustment layers and some text. I used curves, hue/saturation, and vibrance adjustment layers, and I also added the "archer" text below the glass shatter layers so that it would be hidden to reveal the "prey" text. The other text I added above all of the layers, since I wanted this to be visible all the time. Here is the layer order and all of the settings I used for each of the layers:
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I also grouped Shatter-bg and Shatter-fg and shifted them on the timeline so there would be some time to see the background gif before the shatter effect starts.
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And that's all! Then it''s just a matter of exporting the finished product:
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This is the first gifmaking tutorial I've ever made, so I hope I was able to be reasonably coherent and helpful! I'd love to hear if you make anything by following these steps, or even if you just feel like you've learned something reading through this. And if you have any outstanding questions, feel free to reply or send me an ask and I'd be happy to answer!
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