#(which is ''of fucking course i do. things looked different in my formative years than in yours. please understand that'')

[astonmartingf]

MISERY ; MW2

mark webber x rbr race engineer! reader

. . . fuck sebastian vettel and fuck his goddamn race engineer who he can't help but think about all the time. he's bitter, jealous and in misery.

amgf finally i've moved everything 🎉 yay! everybody cheered!! i'm so happy and excited, i'm going home for the week and i'm writing the heck out of that alo fic and doab will be finally over 🫠🫠🫠

death of a bachelor ; masterlist

[2009]

With the way the Australian was acting one would say he’s bitter. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes every time you laughed at something Seb said, which wasn’t even that funny. Maybe you were trying to be civil, but Mark wasn’t having any of it. 

Not only was he fighting for his seat in Red Bull, with the addition of a newer and younger driver he was about to be replaced. The team finally made a car competitive enough to race for podiums, but instead of attacking for points he’s left behind the dust of his teammate Sebastian Vettel.

YN who was now assigned to Vettel- are not only starting to form a better relationship, but also score more points. Not that YN nor Vettel was to blame, the sport is already complicated in a way with changes and upgrades, not everything is constant. 

And as much as Webber wanted to work with you, with how things are looking it’ll be better with both of you to do different things. You were Vettel's race engineer, and he stuck as the second driver.

[2010]

He can’t seem to pinpoint the root of his frustrations, but every time he hears your voice in the background of the team radio, talking and congratulating the fuck out of Sebastian and his pole position, he turns into this miserable monster who wants nothing but to silence you.

This of course hasn’t got unnoticed by the younger German driver who was observant, nosy, and attached to you by the hip. It seemed like wherever you go, Sebastian would follow like a lost puppy on the track. 

Which only irked the driver more, adding to the long list of unexplained frustrations in his head, eating him up. “You know, with how much you’re frowning, it’s shocking it hasn't formed into a unibrow yet.” 

Mark glanced up to see the one and only Sebastian Vettel with a goddamn awful smirk plastered on his face. Clearly he knows what’s up, rolling his eyes as the Australian raised his middle finger in front of the younger driver.

An audible gasp left Sebastian’s mouth, “You shouldn’t do that to me, I can help you know-” teasing the older driver.

Raising his brows Mark pulled Sebastian closer to him, whispering in his ears, “I don’t need your help mate, now go on and annoy someone else.”

“So… I should just go talk with YN then.” 

The mention of your name whips his head back to Sebastian, smirking as if he caught him in action. Pressing his lips into a thin line, Sebastian nods, slowly putting two and two together.

“There is something going on with you two… YN had mentioned you a few times in our conversations.” 

Mark knew better than to react, there’s no way he knows. But the thought of you speaking about him, he couldn’t help his curious nature. Turning around slowly he could hear the German’s stifling laughter. “Spill it.”

“On second thought, I think it’s time for my debrief with YN. I guess you’ll have to figure it out next time.” Shrugging his shoulder, Sebastian walked the other way leaving Mark no time to chase him.

“For fucks sake… Get a grip Webber.”

[2011]

The only thing that developed from last year was his relationship with Sebastian, it boosted the morale of the team but more importantly it put him in conversations with YN. From a bystander’s view it’s embarrassing to see his efforts go to vain.

Especially with Sebastian’s new found knowledge, he teased the Australian often. This time he learned not to blame YN, hearing Seb talk about how you’re always busy prepping and forming strategies, as well as the pressure to perform in meetings.

He could barely catch you since you were all over the paddock, nose buried in different papers looking at data, triple checking results for Sebastian. On the way from the small set prepared for the DHL Fastest Lap Award he was shocked to see YN walking beside him.

“Congratulations on your award.” Mark froze, he had not expected this at all. He’d been looking for you, biding his time to form a conversation, yet here you were congratulating him.

“Are you looking for Seb?” Mark spoke without speaking, wincing at his reply- there were definitely better responses but why would he assume you’re looking for Seb after congratulating him.

“You don’t like talking to me much? Seb has been talking a lot about you, you’ve gotten quite close these past year.” Mark stayed silent, waiting for you to say anything more.

“But I’m not here for Seb, I came looking for you actually. You deserve that award, and many more. I guess I’m just proud of you.”

This revelation came as a surprise to Mark. Bewildered, he asked more about your statement. “I thought you hated me.”

“I don’t think I ever hated you Mark, if anything else- you should hate me.”

Brows furrowed in confusion, Mark was lost. But he knew he would get his answers soon, “Why would I hate you?”

Placing your hands deep in your pockets, slouching as the corners of your mouth form to a frown, “I disappointed you Mark. Though, I’m glad to see you winning now. You did it by yourself, and I know you will continue to do better.”

[2013]

It all happened too fast. In the corner of the pit wall you stare at the screen as you watch Sebastian overtake Mark, you froze. You wanted nothing more than to run and leave, but at the same time you were stuck in your seat like a deer in headlights.

Hearing the radio beep, Sebastian’s voice was drowning in your train of thoughts and in the background you picked up the voice of Mark speaking to his own engineer. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath before responding to Sebastian.

The whole situation is out of hand, and despite you not agreeing with his actions, you have to focus on your work that needs to be done and prioritized before anything else. Just like you always have.

At the end of the podium celebration you found yourself hiding inside the team garage away from both drivers, knowing fully well you couldn’t take the stress from it all. As much as winning with Sebastian felt good, not only for the team but for your career, it also brought out the worst parts of yourself.

You didn’t know you could be this calculative, greedy, and the hunger from wanting all the wins took a toll on you, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally had you drained. You felt miserable, and worst of all- you felt yourself to blame for what happened. 

All you wanted to do was run away, there was no longer a voice of reason- the sport became unenjoyable for you, and there was no longer hope for you to get back and enjoy the sport like you used to.

Sitting in silence, you jump at the sound of Mark’s voice muffled behind the door. “YN? Can I come in?”

“It’s okay to come in.” Your voice comes out thin, hiding your face in your arms. “Are they looking for me?” Peeking over, you catch Mark kneeling down beside you.

“Nah, they’re just cleaning up. Are you feeling okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

It took you a few years to approach Mark once again, blaming yourself for his past results. As a race engineer it was your responsibility to support and ensure the drivers of their performance. You worked hard behind the screens, drowning yourself in data in the hopes of finding ways to improve.

You sit in silence, slowly relaxing as you lean on Mark’s shoulders, “It’s not your fault you know, not now and definitely not before.” 

“How are you so sure of that?” 

Mark hummed in thought, “Because I spent all those years blaming myself as well, I thought I wasn’t capable of putting out results and when you were with Seb, I can see your genuine happiness whenever he’s winning. Something we never got to experience together, I think it’s unfortunate but it’s definitely not your fault. You should know that, I don’t blame you now.”

You nod to yourself, “You blamed me before? I’m glad to hear that, I was inexperienced and only had myself to blame.”

You feel Mark laugh as his shoulders rise and fall, “I definitely cursed you in my head more times when we were together, but I learned then. And look at us now, we’re definitely better than before.” 

“I’m sorry, Mark. I could’ve done more.” Pressing his lips, Mark nods to himself.

“I understand YN. I wouldn’t lie if I say I’m not flattered that you chose to support me, but don’t ignore Seb for too long.” 

“I’m not ignoring him at all, I just want space to think clearly.” You rise from his shoulders, facing him for the first time. Your eyes puffy from crying.

“And, what did you think about?” Mark asked, wiping the tears rolling from your eyes.

“I’m thinking of quitting after the season.”

yourinstagram

liked by aussiegrit, oscarpiastri, and 648,297 others

yourinstagram it's been a while in the paddock but good luck to our boy oscar <3

view 97,461 comments...

aussiegrit thank you for coming and for the nonstop support love ❤️

sebastianvettel let's meet up soon

yourinstagram sure seb, i miss you and hanna

user1 their boy oscar WOW

user2 why are you casually dropping this????

user3 i'm here from twitter and it's a mess

user4 i just read the webyn thread

user5 we're all here from twt???

oscarpiastri thank you so much for coming to see me!

yourinstagram good luck on your first race! we're proud of you

user6 yn left and came back as MOTHER!!!

user7 this is single handedly making me look forward for the 2023 season in the hopes of seeing mark and yn on the paddock

#f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #mark webber smau #mark webber x reader #mark webber fluff

[fudanshidoublevision]

It's pretty funny how the three love interests have something in common 。。。。besides their obvious interest (Haley) and obsession (Double Vision and Ray) towards the MC of the game.

The three of them smoke, which might be something banal for some but I like to hold into small details like these and make up stuff.

Haley takes smoke breaks, Ray smokes when he is in your apartment and Double isn't shown smoking in the game but he does on his birthday illustration. ᶘ ⊙ᴥ⊙ᶅ

Not sure if that was on purpose or just a coincidence but either way, it makes sense to me.

Ray, especially, the fact that he smokes.

Considering that he spent most of his pre-teen and teenage years until he was 18 years old living with Steel Sheriff and remember, Steel Sheriff is a shitty person and a BAD influence, so it makes sense that maaaybe that bad habit was influenced by that horrendous man and Ray took a hold into it.

Ray strikes me as the type of guy who's addicted to nicotine and honestly? I don't blame him at all, that man went through so much shit since he came out of his mother's womb so if he EVEN chain smokes, it wouldn't faze me at all.

Not sure if Ray smokes only at night but someone dear to me does and well, the only time of the day Ray is completely free of any duty is at night, as far as i've seen? Also, smoking at night sounds...right to me, he takes notice of you and opens the window so he isn't stinking up your place...which is surprising, the only smokers I know always smoke in secluded places and I can smell it all the way into my bedroom. ʕʘ̅͜ʘ̅ʔ

I'm aware that nicotine has some benefits but we are talking about Ray, who is freaking Binary Star, HIS ABILITY???? EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. /j This man does not GAF about the side effects or the benefits of smoking. Out of the three I believe that Ray is free from any illnesses or any type of side effects, heh.

Now, Haley, they are shapeshifter...? Correct me if I'm wrong, im an amateur on the Haley department. Crazy idea but imagine if they smoke on their cat form, holy fucking shit. Their brain, gastrointestinal system or even their heart is not safe though...but I believe that they can easily shift into any animal with the strongest lungs ever and live another day without being worried about any complications? Huh, this sounds batshit crazy so I think I'll stop writing this part.

Like Ray, Haley seems to smoke as a sedative, what if they smoke herbal cigarettes? Also, I believe that they can easily quit if they want to (heh, now that I'm reading this part i forgot that this is something most addicts say, LOL.) , which I beg to differ when it comes to Ray or Double, I don't judge them, just an observation I guess.

At last, my favorite character and current obsession, Double Vision.

Cigarette smoking, yeah but what about vaping? He looks like the type of guy that would vape or maybe is it too tame for him? Maybe he wants something stronger. Wait, does anyone really need a reason to smoke? ಠಿ_ಠ

People say that vaping is less hazardous than smoking but to me? It's the same thing, most e-cigarretes contain nicotine but yeah, you are inhaling smoke from burning tobacco when you smoke a cigarette. I don't know anything about vaping. It's pretty popular in my country though, never tried it but my friend told me that vaping feels and tastes different from smoking, so I believe their judgement.

Forgive my yapping, like I was saying! He isn't safe from the lung cancer, at all. Yeah, this man can do sick tricks with the smoke, for sure... I'm not going to name any because I might be wrong but you name it and maaaaaaaybe he would be capable of doing it, if you can do something for him back, of course. Oh, I'm 100% sure this freakazoid throws the smoke in your face on purpose, I find that hot actually...if only my nostrils and eyes could say the same about that. If he does that, I'll be coughing like I have asthma until I die.

Hmm, I can't think of when he started smoking...maybe on his teenage years? After all, I think it was at that time that he started to get along with shady people and ugly business. The power of influence and their ambience might be a big factor of this habit on these guys. Heavy on Ray.

That's everything I could think of. For now.

If you are a real person, don't smoke, I guess?. Do whatever you want BUT DON'T BE TELLING ANYONE THAT TUMBLR USER fudanshidoublevision encouraged you to do it.

If you are fictional character, yassss smoke all you want beautiful inexistent individual, you don't exist after all!

GODDAMN!!!!!! I MIGHT START SMOKING RIGHT NOW IF I CAN LOOK THIS HOT 😍😍😍 GIVE ME THAT CIGARETTE 🔥🔥🔥

#binary star hero #bsh double vision #bsh haley #bsh ray #binary star #my goofy ahh writing #actually i feel like this post doesn't deserve this tag but rather #overnalyzing writing

[mightypossibly]

yandere!elite x GN!reader

contents: yandere, fluff, rough making out

summary: in the dead of night, a rich boy and his darling sneak out to their boarding school's indoor garden

“I love coming here at night,” he said, looking up at the starry sky. Even in the dim light of the glowing flowers around us, he looked incredibly beautiful. There was a bittersweetness to his beauty, like at any moment he could disappear and I’d only be able to glimpse him in my dreams and memories. He had deep brown eyes, warm brown skin, and long, spiraling locs. His form was lean and athletic from years of training. “I’m sorry I dragged you here… I just really wanted you to see this.”

“I’m not too mad,” I joked nervously. “I just don’t want to get caught up, you know.”

I didn’t want to be afraid when with him, but in the darkness of the night, I heard my heart racing. We sat in the Garden together. If it were any other time, I would have been ecstatic to be here. This was where the great Princes had gathered, ate and celebrated each other. This was a place of legend and lore… and all that didn’t mean much to my companion. He just thought it looked pretty here.

He had come to my dorm in stealth, and concealed me along with him. He had a strong predisposition for protection spells, particularly veiling. His being the descendant of the academy’s founders also got him special access into lots of different places here, at basically any time. His family handed him anything he wanted because of his talent, beauty and aptitude. They were fools for him, so there we sat, probably scot-free. Well, I wasn’t so sure about myself, which was one of the reasons I was afraid of being with him.

It was also because he was fucking insane.

He pulled me into a hug. He smelled like the sweet milk roses around us; sugary and potent. He kissed my neck and trailed his hand down my belly, all the way down to my lap. He then pressed his full, soft lips against mine. Deepening the kiss, he pulled me in tighter. I closed my eyes, knowing his was open. He liked to see every tiny flinch and expression I made, and it was his incentive to go faster, be rougher, and taste every inch of me.

“Mm… w-we shouldn't do this here,” I said, breathlessly pulling away.

He didn't miss a beat. He licked his wet lips and said, “We’ll go to a room, then.”

“S-Sure… um, mine isn’t the prettiest, but—”

He shook his head, his expression incredulous. His eyes were suddenly cloudy and distant. He stuttered, “I don’t want to impede upon something so holy…and private… That’s your… personal space. No, there are rooms here. I’ll show you.”

He stood up and pulled me up along with him. He took my hand and guided me to the maze-like Garden, until we came upon a waterfall. A line of stones led directly to it. He gestured me to go first, saying that he’d catch me if I fell. I carefully took each step, and he followed behind. I stopped at the last visible stone.

“Do I… just go in?”

“Yes, my love,” he said with a chuckle. 

Rolling my eyes, I stepped through. Instead of getting drenched, I was met with a warm atmosphere. I now stood in a room that was cozy, with a blazing fireplace, a couple filled-up bookcases, a king-sized bed, and a faux fur rug. It was only a tad bigger than my own dorm room. It was surprisingly homely. I had been to his dorm room before, and it was much more grand, dramatic and large.

“I stay here most often. I wanted to take you here before, but I didn't want to do it that day. I was planning to take you here after we fucked in the Garden, but this is a good a place as any.”

I blinked, failing to process the true extent of his shamelessness. I said, in a scolding tone, “h/n!”

He grinned and said, “Do you like it? I decorated it myself. I definitely want to live in a whole cottage like this when I retire. With you, of course.”

I laughed. “Isn’t it too early to plan that sort of thing out?”

“I love these kinds of houses,” he replied happily, sitting down.

“No, I mean marrying someone. That’s something you have to plan.”

“Just tell me what you want in a wedding and we’ll do that.”

“That’s not what I— Oh, never mind.”

He furrowed his devastatingly lovely eyebrows. Caressing my face, he whined, “Have I upset you? That seems to be my talent these days. Please forgive me.”

How could someone with so much power at his disposal look so submissive? It looked as if he would yield to my every desire. I shook my head at him. I sat down next to him and told him he didn’t upset me at all. He kissed me when he heard that, slipping his warm, wet tongue into my mouth. He teased the entrance to my throat, and I moaned into him. My mind was getting murky as he fondled my chest, waist, thighs, and the warmth between them— he somehow moved both slowly and quickly, his warm fingers finding their way under my clothes. He laid me down and began to grind his groin into mine, embracing me with his muscular arms. He was heavy and strong, so my will buckled under him. He kissed my ear all the while, and thanked me for letting him get so close to me. 

“I’m so weak,” he whispered. “I-I just can’t st-stop…”

I stroked his head in response, losing myself in the sweet feelings he was drawing out of me. He asked me to marry him a billion times in a row, and I breathlessly moaned his name....

divider by @/cafekitsune

#yandere #yanderecore #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x willing reader #soft yandere #underscore #obsessive yandere #tw yandere #yandere fic #yandere oc #yandere male

[charmwasjess]

If there’s a legit good reason why Qui-Gon chose to specialize in form IV, Ataru, the Hawkbat lightsaber form, aside from the simple, likely fact that he did it to troll his old Master Dooku (who outright calls the acrobatics of the form “ridiculous,”) I’d like to hear it. By which I mean I’ll write you a post about it.

Ataru is fast, aggressive, and inclined to treat the battlefield as a 3D space where the air is just as comfortable a place to be as on your own two feet. A direct response to Soresu, the “defense is my attack” form, Ataru flips that into “attack is my defense.” (We won’t talk about Makashi’s contribution to the conversation: “no defense whatsoever, but think fast, I just threw a dinner fork at you so hard it stuck in your metal arm!”) 

Of course, the most recognizable and classic application of Ataru is Yoda’s; we see him whizzing around people’s heads like a little green hummingbird in his AotC and RotS duels. Qui-Gon’s version looks nothing like that. If we weren’t told, I think it would be hard to guess that those characters are using the same form. In Duel of the Fates, Qui-Gon has to move down or over those infamous walkways repeatedly. He just jumps them: no flips, no aerial maneuvers, no bouncing off the walls. And this isn’t simply a practical choice for his age and build: Jocasta Nu is running up walls and leaping out of skyscrapers at easily aged 40 years older than Qui-Gon, and for all Dooku’s bitching over Ataru acrobatics, he does more flips to simply avoid walking down a few stairs than Qui-Gon, Master of the flip form, does in his entire time on screen. 

And yet, on some level, all of that makes perfect sense for Qui-Gon. Who better to completely subvert a form? This is a character who is contrary as fuck, full of wonderful contradiction, who blends lightsaber theory centered on attack and aggression with literal meditation. While the most notable scene, actually kneeling in the pose and everything, is in TPM, he does battle meditation repeatedly on a mental level in the Master and Apprentice and Padawan novels. (And it rightfully freaks out Obi-Wan.) Qui-Gon takes Ataru’s “your whole body is a weapon” and doesn’t apply that to somersaults, but rather, to moves like punching Darth Maul off a balcony as we see him do in Duel of the Fates. He fights in a way that throws himself bodily up against obstacles. You can see the same physicality of his relationship with his weapon in the scene where he is simply burning through the blast doors in TPM. We’ve seen Jedi cut through things on screen other times, but that scene is remarkable and memorable for Qui-Gon’s level of intensity. He is the battering ram. 

And we could loop back into lineage, couldn’t we? Qui-Gon stands in a line of Jedi with unconventional relationships to their lightsaber forms; their choices are formed in context of and in conversation with each other. Those backward, momentum-gaining swings from Duel of the Fates look very familiar, but who trained Qui-Gon? (And who notoriously had a problem with Ataru and might've pushed his student on some workarounds or encouraged him to cut out bits he didn't like, such as aerials?) And speaking of, is it a stretch to think that Dooku’s own casual backflips are less a considered choice and more an old habit, being himself trained by a Master who has only a theoretical relationship with gravity? 

All this to enjoy just another example of how personal the lightsaber forms can be to specific Jedi, and what wonderful fun it is to unpack the ways they use them differently because of their unique personalities and lineage.

#lightsaber nerd stuff #lightsaber forms #qui gon jinn #count dooku #makashi #ataru #the clone wars #star wars analysis #yoda #the phantom menace #disaster lineage #master dooku

[neverchecking]

I have a brain rot for sage, hes challenging the chain for their time with player/reader, he basically wants all His/Her/Them's attention, of course none of the chain and sage are going to "play" fair their going to cheat no matter what. the only ones he might not win against is time, FD and maybe twilight. wind, four, Hyrule, and sky would do sad puppy eyes to get cuddle time, twilight and legend turn into their animal form to get pettings, sage and wild would cook food to get points for being delicious. (etc.etc.) just some yandere shenanigans for attention. the challenges he did were sword fighting, bow and arrow targeting, sparing, arm wrestling, and so forth.

-Eevee

Okay, last one for the night! I figured since this isn't really a request, I could spitball some more of my headcanons for our beloved Sage.

Jk it delted itself so I gave up and went to bed bc last time I tried to push through I wasn't happy with the end product, so sorry for the delay!

For those of you who don't know, Sage is another name for the Tears of the Kingdom Link--dubbed Hero of the Zonai-- should we decide he is not in fact Wild.

For the Wild and Facesitting request, it's in progress I promise! I try to go in order with my requests, but like I said, this is more headcanons versus a scenario. It should be out tomorrow later today so look out for that ;)

ANYWAY-

Y'all. The amount of Sage requests in my inbox right now? You guys are feral for this man and I love it. So I'm here to feed you guys.

TotK spoilers below!

・❥・Okay, so lemme start this off by saying. I have done you all wrong. And for that I apologize.

・❥・Because our wonderful @wayfayrr has opened my eyes to new possibilities that I would've never even thought of. So everyone say thank you rn >:(

・❥・So let's make some amendments!

・❥・First off, let's talk about nicknames. I love the idea that Reader, and only Reader, can call him anything other than Sage. And calling him other herb-related nicknames? Kills me. He is a flushing red mess the first time it happens. You had deemed him worthy of a nickname? You considered him person enough to have a moniker that wasn't also a title? If he was down bad before, it's so much worse now. Because you see him as a person. He's sure the others just see him as a means to the end. The second one of them, maybe save Wind, try it, he's shooting them daggers and snarling at them for even daring to try and impeach your privilege. (I also love the Calm, Wild and Feral thing, I thought that was so freaking clever.)

・❥・And you know how each of the hero's have their own 'sword' right? Well, what if Sage's was the Master Sword Remastered? Like Sky's (Like most of their Master Swords actually) but now it's been boosted by ten thousand years worth of direct light magic. (Does the Zonai time fall before Skyward Sword or after? I have no idea where they fall on the timeline tbh.). Just a thought. It could also be a gloom sword which probably wouldn't effect him as hard in other timelines because there's no demon king to power it, but it probably does hurt the others if they try to touch it.

・❥・Now, the juicy part. Let's retouch on Wild's and Sage's relationship. I originally said that Sage was okay with him? I lied. Wayfayrr has opened my eyes.

・❥・Sage probably can't fucking stand Wild. As they said, this is a version of him that didn't have this second adventure. Got to rest and distant himself from the Hero Title. And that just pisses him off. Why did he get the shittier hand? Why did he have to do it all over again? Why when this failure got to get off easy? Why couldn't he have the same grace, huh? What made them so different?

・❥・And if we're using the past oneshot (Here!) as they're 'canon' meeting, this filth let you get hurt. You were hurt before meeting him, which means that they can't be trusted with you. Especially Wild. So Sage cannot stand you being near Wild. At all. It eats at him and he doesn't last long before splitting the two of you up.

・❥・Calamity is even worse. There is probably an active hate towards Calamity (In this Yandere world, in a normal, not toxic world? They probably work out their differences a little better). This was a version of him who didn't even have to die to complete his quest. And this just shows that Fraud has favorites and it's not him.

・❥・You know who else he probably doesn't like? Twilight. Now, hear me out. This is purely me just spitting this out, but Sage has to be aware. He listens when they don't think he does, he's awake when they think he's not, he's watching when they don't even know he's there.

・❥・So he probably picks up on all of their little secrets. Meaning he knows Twilight is Wolfie. And (I think this is Canon is LU but I'm not sure) Wild had Wolfie as a guide. Which means Sage had Wolfie as a guide. The difference? When he needed him the second time, left stumbling around like a newborn fawn crawling out of the shrine all over again, he was left alone. He was fighting robots with a fucking Stick. He fused a mushroom to a shield just to buy himself more time. At one point, he was fusing a long stick to another long stick just to fight from a distance to save his battered body. Rauru did as much as he could, but there were some times he wished he was left for dead.

・❥・Not anymore as that means he would've never met you, but then? different story.

・❥・They also brought up that Sage probably doesn't stop at just cooking your food and I agree. When on the road, he for sure goes straight to the source. If he doesn't know exactly where it came from, it's not going anywhere near his Goddess. Nope. Not a chance in the gloomy depths from hell.

・❥・He's going to farmers themselves rather than merchants for produce, hunting any protein himself, climbing trees for eggs, he probably even makes his own butter. Now, because he's also cooking savy this for sure makes the rivalry between him and Wild widen. Wild is set in his cook for the chain, not you. Sage can't trust them to not hurt you again. Whose to say they don't over spice the food? Or undercook the fish? Or drop shells into the egg?

・❥・He can't trust them and may force you to pick one of the other. Depending on who you chose, he'll either hold his victory up high or work even harder to separate you from the chain. Can't you see, Reader? They aren't good for you.

・❥・When it comes to the Gloom, he for sure uses to his advantage. You know he's been infected, but you don't know how much light he's gathered to dispel it. At this point, he's probably gotten most, if not all of it, out, but you don't know that. And he preys on that fact.

・❥・Oh, the Traveler wants to down to the river with you? But, Reader, there's something rotten in his chest and he's stumbling against trees, exaggerating his steady steps just in case to really sell it. He needs you by his side, can't you see?

・❥・Oh, the captain is trying to get you to settle with him for the night? But, Reader, he's tossing and turning, feigning sleep and acting just enough to catch your attention. He's listening, ears pricked, just to hear you swiftly apologize before your gently hands are laying on his shoulders and he's won again.

・❥・And because his Hyrule is one of, if not the most dangerous Hyrules, he's given so much ammo to keep you tethered to him. You can't trust anyone, don't you know? The Yiga uptake has skyrocketed and they are everywhere, along with Ganon's new ability to make puppets? Can't you see how you can't trust any of them?

・❥・He even entertains you when you come up with the idea to have a secret saying between just the two of you as a fail safe. (It's probably something like 'Deforestation Enthusiast' because of how the two of you met.) Anything to have you pulling further away from the Chain and into his arms.

・❥・If it begins to take longer than expected, Sage is not above letting you wander just enough in his Hyrule. Maybe you set off a bit of Gloom hands (Or maybe he nudges them in your direction, hard to tell, really) and they go charging at you. The others don't know how to deal with them, but he does. He saves your life before the others even know what hit them. He's cooing into your ear, reassuring that where the others fail, he would never dream of it. He's whispering that he knows how scary the feeling of those hands are. He knows how freezing the feeling of sudden restriction, only accompanied by the burning sizzle of malice, is. He knows and he understands, but he's right here. He'd never let anything happen to you. Not like the other frauds.

・❥・Now, all that being said, Sage for sure does not play fair. Oh no. He does challenge them in his own ways, but does it in a way that can only reflect badly on them should they call him out on it.

・❥・He's fighting (Picking apart) with Wars and Calamity on their sparring routines, angling it in just a way that should they snap back he can turn on the innocent little look with a 'But I'm just trying to protect you. I don't know how any of you fight, I'm still learning.' Just in time for you to catch them barking at him to 'Learn faster' and it just falls perfectly into place.

・❥・He's calling out Twi and Four every time they try to wander off (Probably to bring out Wolfie or split to relieve a headache of sorts) because 'The woods are dangerous, what are they doing going off alone?' and now they can't leave because all eyes are on them and he's restricting their movement without even really trying. They wanna go foraging? But he and ...Wild were their best foragers and they were busy with dinner (That was something bitter to get out).

・❥・And wow, Time, Legend and Fierce have so many secrets, can you really trust them? Sage has laid down his entire adventure to you, and regardless if Reader is a LoZ player and knows of them regardless, Sage told you. Those two are trying to hide from you. He would never.

・❥・Wind, Hyrule and that filthy disgrace want to drag you along to go Shield surfing? Reader, do you know how dangerous that is? Especially with someone's track record. Here, you wanna go riding on this motorized wagon he just happens to have on hand? (Between the Zonite in his Purah pad, he can build any component necessary.)

・❥・Not even Sky and First are safe as he uses carefully laid words to sully their once golden image towards you. Afterall, they're so close to Hylia, whose to say they aren't behind all of this?

・❥・Now, you said that the only ones he may not win against are Time, Fierce and Twilight, but like I said, I can imagine him loathing Twilight, so instead, may I suggest First.

・❥・Time and Fierce are both pretty burly dudes that demand some semblance of respect and while Sage has muscles, he's not overly tall. So while he doesn't bow, he may just back off from their forefront for a while.

・❥・Now, First. He's probably the only one who can put Sage back in his place of the hierarchy. It's the first in the timeline, versus the last (As of right now). And it's not pretty. They probably go to blows a few times when you're out of ear shot.

・❥・The problem is that First can only push him back when you're out of ear shot and Sage makes it a point to keep you as close as humanly possible.

・❥・And while yes, some of them may use puppy eyes, Sage is not above using pity to get what he wants because he just hurts so badly don't you know?

・❥・He unfortunately can't do anything about wolves or rabbits. If they manage to disappear before he can call them out on it, he's left bitterly sulking as Wolfie laps at your cheeks or dumb rabbits nose at your hand. He may know who they are, but not even he's cruel enough to call them out (Yet) because that would just pit you against him. They weren't his secrets to tell, you would scold, and he just couldn't handle that possibility.

・❥・The biggest difference between Sage and Wild, one that the chain will fail to realize right away, is that Sage is much more experienced. He is on his second, THIRD if you count the pre-calamity, adventure. He knows everything Wild does, and more. Wild knows how to improvise and adapt, Sage can do it faster. Wild knows how to forage and concoct incredibly potent elixirs? Sage can do it tenfold with half the ingredients. He knows all the little tips and tricks and is not only backed up by the champion's gifts-- should they have remained-- but now he has the sages with him.

・❥・Like imagine their mid-battle, they had forced you away from Sage just to create some distance (At long last) and mans comes rolling in a giant fucking robot. He's using Sidon's sage to shield you over and over again and decimating a battle field using nothing but Riju and an arrow. Hell, the bigger enemies are struck down by Yunobo crashing into them. Sage alone is enough to cut the enemy hordes in half through recall and sending their own attacks back at them or fusing together weapons they wouldn't have ever dreamed of with new abilities. Even his outfits give him benefits far beyond anything they could think.

・❥・You saw him as someone more than just Link. He wasn't just the Swordsman to you when that was who he was to everyone else. You dubbed him something far beyond what a damned sword made him.

・❥・And he would have to be four days dead before letting you go.

・❥・And as he's proven before, Not even death could truly kill him.

I am so glad I waited bc I like this one so much more than the one that was deleted.

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linkeduniverse #yandere legend of zelda #legend of zelda #loz #link x reader #yandere sage #yandere sage x reader #lu sage #lu twilight #lu wind #lu warriors #lu legend #lu wild #lu x reader #Sage our beloved #Hes kind of the worst but also the best. #just to reader tho

[genderliquid-witch]

Do flowers bloom from walkers? (Radical optimism in The Walking Dead: The Final Season)

I remember playing The Final Season for the first time way back in October of 2022 and immediately being blown away by how polished the game was in comparison to its predecessor. I mean I had always loathed the visual style of A New Frontier, so this comic-book inspired look was a nice change of pace, especially once combined with the expert use of lighting that is present throughout the game. But what really took me off guard, more so than anything else, was the opening credits.

I mean, obviously; these games had never done anything like this before. And while I'm fond of the whole FADE IN TITLE ACCOMPANIED BY OMINOUS MUSICAL CUE, this was a welcome change. But there was one specific image that stuck with me throughout my playthrough: the decomposing walker (pictured above), painted in greyscale, with the only colour being the stark red background and the yellow flowers blooming from its corpse. I like to think that it was an intentional decision that ties into the game's themes and not just "Oh this looks cool, let's do it", but it weirdly never came up again. So I was kind of just left to play the game while it loomed in the back of my head, waiting for its moment to shine.

It wasn't until almost a year later where I'd figure out what the image represented, or at least my interpretation of it, and I settled on this conclusion: this decomposing walker is supposed to represent this apocalyptic world, and the flowers symbolise the people that attempt to build from it, in this case the Ericson's kids.

I've had this opinion for a while that if the first three games show the attempts and failures to re-establish the old world ideals of order and civil society, then The Final Season serves as a rejection of that idea. From the walker-ridden fortress of Crawford in Season One to the bureaucratic nightmare that was the New Frontier, it's an accepted fact that these attempts at returning to the methods of days gone is ultimately futile and will result in total collapse, largely due to the decisions of its rulers. While we could argue about which of these groups is truly the worst, they all originate from the same basic principle: a desire to return to normality. Crawford, Howe's, the New Frontier; these groups were formed by people who, while cruel and monstrous in their own ways, all had the admittedly noble goal of attempting to return order to this ravaged world, but failed due to their leaders' cruel and selfish actions.

Or did they? (Vsauce sfx)

There's this interaction Lee has with Katjaa in the very first episode of Season One that has stuck with me for a while. It's an optional dialogue so it's very easy to miss (I did on my first playthrough), but when Katjaa hopes that things can go "back to normal", Lee has the option of expressing resentment for this old world:

"But they weren't before? The banks, the politics, the--the crap--those things are gone. Hell comes in a lot of different colors."

Usually this "fuck the old world" sentiment is expressed by sociopaths who are excited to enact their sadistic desires onto other survivors, but Lee's resentment for society feels a lot more justified. The fact that Lee is a black man who's specialty is American history makes his criticism of wanting to go back to how things were feel more warranted; he's someone who understands how corrupt and unjust the societal structure of the past was, so of course he'd feel conflicted about longing for its return.

And while this is just a small interaction, I feel it plays into what I've been talking about. Crawford, Howe's, the New Frontier; did these factions collapse because of their evil leaders, or because they were emulating an inherently unjust and corrupt power structure? Their desire for order and stability allows them to see past the cruelties that came with building these hierarchical societies, to the point where they begin to mimic governments of the old world (Crawford, discrimination and the outlining of "undesirables"; Howe's, prison labour and terror; the New Frontier, imperialism and state corruption). So these failed factions force us to ask the question: is a return to order possible in this world?

It isn't until the The Final Season that the games give us an answer to that question: no, it isn't, but that doesn't mean you can't start something new.

When introduced to Ericson's it's made immediately apparent how different they are to any other group we've met before. While there's the obvious homage to Lord of the Flies with a group being made up of entirely children, I think this is more than just a "well it's the final game, best do something interesting". Children are a symbol of hope and optimism, but also of potential and, in a more abstract sense, the future. They are clay that has yet to be moulded, with infinite potential, a luxury most adults don't have. So I don't think it's a coincidence that the main group in this game, and the one that Clementine eventually settles with, is comprised entirely of children: it feels like an intentional choice to highlight how this group will be the one to survive on account of how they have the potential to create something new.

And it's not just their age demographic that makes Ericson's so distinct from the other groups in the series, but also their power structure. Following Marlon's death, their is no one person in control of the group. Sure, there are leaders (Violet takes the chair once Marlon's out of the picture, and upon her return Clementine becomes the one who's advising the group), but they feel like role models and advisors more than anything. When Violet takes the reigns it doesn't seem like anyone truly acknowledges her authority, and she doesn't even seem to enforce it either. Same goes for Clem; she doesn't really express any desire to control the rest of the group, instead preferring to make decisions in a more democratic manner as to include everyone's individual skills and expertise.

Ericson's vision of society more closely resembles that of an anarchist commune than any government that previously existed, and it manages to be the only group left standing by the end. It's through cooperation and an altruistic attitude that keeps them alive in the end; their concerns for the survival of the group far outweigh any desire to create "order". And I don't think it's a coincidence that a majority of the game's antagonists (Lilly, Minerva, and even James) are people who represent the past. Lilly is obsessed with the cruel lessons her father taught her and prides herself in her attachment to the militaristic level of discipline that she inflicts upon her subordinates. Minerva is essentially a ghost of the past, with her whole arc with Violet and Tenn serving as a lesson on the dangers of holding onto the past. James, while good natured and mostly kind, can't bring himself to accept the fact that the world has changed, and its these beliefs that either kill him or sever the only connection he had made in years.

To conclude, while Telltale's The Walking Dead is a series that is rife with conflict and tragedy, I also find it to be a story that is ultimately about hope. I always considered that Lee's greatest lesson to Clementine wasn't how to shoot a gun or to cut her hair, but instilling within her a radical sense of hope, the idea that things can be better, and you should always try your damnedest to make it happen. That even in the most desolate of circumstances, something profoundly beautiful can bloom.

Or maybe I've been wrong this whole time and flowers growing out of a walker just looks really cool.

#i didn't expect this to be so long but oh well #needed to rant about twdg so i chose this instead of the wall #twdg #the walking dead game #clementine #twdg clementine #lee everett #media analysis

[amaet]

i said i will post things here, goddamit, and I WILL

so heres some life/creative updates

i will start by saying i feel super bad for not posting anywhere regularly. i suppose the brain worm of building engagement online has gotten to me too. but the truth is, if i want to build an audience for my project, i have to post. of course on the other hand i dont want to post some of the things i have, because they are spoilery and i want them to be revealed later!! dilemmas.

that said, the story is definitely taking shape. one of the reasons im hesitant of sharing it in any form is because its in constant flux. i build some of it and then i tear it down, reshaping it into something significantly different. (I wont give you context for those images just yet because of that) im a perfectionist, and i refuse to make a story that wont click as a whole. it has to be the best i can physically make it to be. so im writing out plot points, characters and their motivations, im making documents with lore. it has to click. and i think it might finally be getting to that point.

-

on the broader side of things, burnout doesnt help. i feel a black hole in my chest and its cold. it drains joy out of things. i suppose the reason is my isolation. i live in a very comfortable way right now, people have always been taking care of me. but i have no financial independence and i dont go out. i dont have art friends (or one than one irl friend, really). i dont go out to do traditional art, and those are all the things i want to do. i kinda feel like a plant that wants to sprout but its growing underneath something and its starting to wilt. its fucking pathetic. i feel so fucking ashamed to admit to people what my living situation is. im like a basement dweller redditor taken care for by his mom until hes 45. well, its not like that, but i sure fucking feel like it is.

im 29. its getting late. existential dread is really kicking in that im not living. im starting to panic. like my best years are behind me. and if i continue that way, everything will blow right by me.

i dont know what to do to be honest. i will continue to stumble around, maybe i will eventually recover to the point i will actually look for a normal art job (im aiming for 3d character artist) and have some money which will buy me some flexibility. it would also solve the problem of my stagnation. i would meet people, make things, i would get out of the house, and i would fucking wash myself regularly. yes its tmi but thats how depression be like. i feel like a wheel that is stuck in mud. that first push is the hardest.

but, to be fully honest, i am getting a little better. i still struggle with getting up regularly but its all better than it used to be, at least. so there is hope.

also i have to name this project. im thinking of 'benthic millenium' or something similar. i like the word millenium, and it fits.

so, um, see you later i guess? i will probably post some more character and location concept art sometime in the future, since i dont want to share any of the story outside of the actual comic. and thanks for reading my depressing rambling!

#headcanon

[nhlclover]

the last time | arber xhekaj

summary: after arber leaves you for the second time you let him know he’s on his last strike.

request: yes / no

warnings: angst (w/ slight happy ending)

a/n: based on ‘the last time’ by taylor swift. i will take any excuse to write a taylor swift song fic. also i miss him :(

word count: 1.36k

Again. It happened again. This was the second time I had watched Arber walk out of my life. The first was five months ago.

We had been together for six months. Six months I had dealt with his schedule and late nights out after games. Six months I loved him and admired his passion. And then he broke up with me, saying he needed space. It hurt. More than any breakup I had been a part of before. But I let him go. If he needed space then I would give it to him. Two months went by where I was miserable. I had missed my boyfriend and slept alone in a bed that had become accustomed to two. Then, he was back.

He was at my door, saying he wanted me back. He said it was a mistake and he was overwhelmed with his newfound fame from being in the NHL and a new relationship. I believed him. I took him back and was happy to do so. Three months passed by where we pretended like we had missed no time. No skipped anniversaries, no missed date nights. We were good for three months before we were sitting in my living room, Arber telling me this was a mistake.

“I thought I was ready but I wasn’t.” He said. He had a hurt look on his face, the same one he wore when he left me the first time. “It will only hurt us more if I stay. And I don’t want to hurt you anymore baby.”

Once again, I let him go. I was left miserable once again, seeing little remnants of his touch on my life everywhere I went. Anytime I saw the Montreal logo I thought of him and his passion for the game. Anytime I heard Morgan Wallen I remembered the time we danced on the balcony at 2 am to Somebody’s Problem. 

On what should’ve been our one-year anniversary, I sat alone in my room, my tv playing an episode of Hell’s Kitchen that was barely holding my attention. My eyes burned from the tears that came in with every new memory that passed through my head. The memories of the boy I still loved — because my feelings hadn’t yet diminished — ran through my head like a movie. First kiss, first date, the first time he told me he loved me and how quickly I said it back. The first time he got in a fight on the ice and the mixture of the sense of pride and fear that coursed through me. Every career milestone and how happy I was for him.

But with all the good memories, I remember the bad ones. I remember how alone I felt when he left the first time, then how utterly stupid I felt when he left me for the second time. I couldn’t go out with my friends for the fear of seeing him made my anxiety spike. I remember lying awake at night, wracking my brain for answers because, even though Arber explained why he ended things, it felt like I was missing something.

A knocking sound coming from the front of the house pulls me from my thoughts, sending a wave of fear through me. It was the dead of winter and the middle of a snowstorm at nearly 10 pm, who would be coming to my door? I got out of my bed and slowly walked to the front door. The knocking persisted, getting louder every few seconds. I grabbed the tennis racket that sat on the floor of the coat closet and slowly cracked open the door.

The sight of the person on the other side sent a different kind of fear through me. Arber stood on my front stoop, a bouquet of pink and white tulips in hand. I opened the door fully, the cold air from outside causing goosebumps to form on my exposed legs. 

Arber’s eyes are soft and delicate when he looks into mine which are bloodshot and lined with soaked eyelashes.

“Why are you here?” I ask even though I already know the answer. 

“I fucked up…” He croaks out. “I can’t stop thinking about you…here alone. I hate that I caused this.”

He motions to my face on which tears have once again begun streaking down. I wipe them away using the sleeves of my sweater which just so happened to have belonged to Arber. “Can I come in?” He asks me.

I’m tempted to turn him away. To tell him no. He’s hurt me more than once and if I let him in, I can’t be sure he won’t again. But the moment I saw his face, all our good moments clouded over the bad ones, and it’s like everything was better. My love for him overshadows any hurt he made me feel. How could I possibly turn him away when I love him this much?

I opened the door fully, letting him in, and shutting the door behind him. As he removed his coat, he glanced down at the tennis racket in my hand. Arber looked at me his eyebrows furrowed.

“Arber, you came to my house in the middle of a snowstorm at 10 pm.” I tell him, putting the racket back in the closet. “I wasn’t just going to answer the door unarmed.”

Arber walks into my home, finding his way to the kitchen. He goes into the cabinet where I keep my vases and takes the scissors from their place in the drawer to cut the stems. He still remembered where I kept everything.

There are a few moments of silence as I watch him cut the stems, placing each flower into the vase. He fills the vase with water, putting it on the counter in front of me.

“Thank you, they’re beautiful.” I say softly.

“I know you like tulips.” He replied. I sigh, looking past the flowers at him. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry baby.”

I avert my eyes feeling them begin to brim with tears. He comes around the counter, sitting on the barstool beside mine. “I know you’ve already given me a chance before and I blew it but… Please, y/n.”

“Why?” I ask him, looking at him with tears steadily falling from my eyes. “Why should I give you another chance, Arber? All you’ve done is prove you don’t deserve another one. I’ve given you a second chance and you wasted it.”

“I can’t tell you how much I’ve changed since, y/n.” He says. “I’ve grown as a person. I’ve found a way to deal with what it's like playing in the NHL and I know I can cope now. On top of that, I have never been as miserable as I am without you.”

I look at him, reading his expression carefully. His eyes scream nothing but sadness, the bags under his eyes telling much of the story. “How do I know you won’t leave me again?” I croak out.

“Baby, I can promise you I will never leave you again.” Arber says, cupping my cheek with his hand, wiping away a tear with his thumb. “I understand if you need time to think about it.”

There are so many thoughts going through my head all at once. I weigh out the bad memories and the good ones. I find my mind overwhelmed with the good ones, the love I have for Arber completely swaying my decision.

“Okay.” I say.

“Okay?” Arber repeats. “You’ll take me back?”

Arber has a grin on his face, bigger than the one he had when I told him I loved him. I nod. He scoops me up from the chair, spinning me around. Arber sets me down but keeps me in his arms. 

“Thank you, y/n.” He mumbles into my neck.

I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him close. The familiar scent of his cologne washed over me, comfort enveloping me. I lean back from Arber, looking up at him.

“This is the last time I’m letting you back in,” I tell him. 

“This is the last time I’ll ask.” He says.

#arber xhekaj #arber xhekaj imagine #arber xhekaj x reader #nhl imagine #nhl #montreal canadiens #hockey #angst #luvzegras

[hearts4yawnzzn]

Omg for the prompt thing could you do #1 with any of the TXT members?

omg yess!! here’s a gyu x reader 🩵 also I apologize for posting so late! and also sorry if this looks rushed i tried my best! I'm not so good at writing kissing scenes loll

Just a sleepover… // Choi Beomgyu

Idol: TXT — Choi Beomgyu

Prompt(s): 1

- “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” Pairing: Choi Beomgyu x Fem!reader

Genre: Comfort, Best friends to lovers, fluff(??), angst

Warnings: Cursing, a little bit of angst, jealousy (mostly beomgyu).

Word count: 1.2k

It was a regular night for the both of you, you were currently waiting for Beomgyu to get off work and come over to yours, you had planned a sleepover on this day specifically. It was your friendship anniversary after all.

Your tiny apartment was ready for the sleepover, with various types of snacks on the table that was situated in front of the television, and of course, you left some space for movie recommendations and a lot of face masks.

The couch was crowded with 3 blankets, 4 pillows, and a couple of plushies left under the blankets.

Sleepovers with Beomgyu would always make your day better, as your best friend, it was his so-called 'duty' to make all of your sleepovers better than the last, but this one was different, he was late.

Beomgyu was never late, especially for the sleepovers.

He was either on time or early.

you were worried and stressed cleaning your tiny apartment for the third time,  multiple texts were sent to him which he didn't even see.

The unlocking of your front door startled you, the only person who has custody of the spare key to your apartment was him, no one else.

You immediately sprint towards your door, halting in front of it as it slowly creaks open, revealing his figure.

Choi Beomgyu.

He was pretty startled by the bone-crushing hug you gave him as soon as he stepped inside, but he was also confused. The bag full of snacks he was carrying was now discarded onto the floor.

"Where the fuck were you?! I was so worried about you!" you scolded, detaching your arms from his body and stepping back.

Beomgyu understood the situation now, it's because he was late.

It wasn't really his fault, after their comeback was released all of the members were working and practicing hard for the promotions.

So he had no chance but to stay late and practice almost every single night. "I'm sorry..." he started, letting out a sigh.

"I was still in the practice room and I lost track of time." he sounded very tired, his hair was messy, and his eyes were droopy. A small frown formed on your face as you took in his state, he was overworking himself again. He took a step closer to you, taking in your worried figure as he leaned in to wrap his arms around you.

You were taken aback by his sudden movement, but nonetheless, you smacked his shoulder and hugged him back tightly. "You didn't even answer my texts... I thought something bad happened to my best friend yet you were overworking yourself again!!"

There it was, the word he dreaded to hear since the day he met you.

Best friend.

He didn't want to be your best friend anymore. "Would you stop calling me that?" Beomgyu muttered against the hug as he detached himself from you, it left a confused look on your face as you kept staring, "What do you mean? All of a sudden you don't wanna be best friends anymore?" you laughed it off awkwardly, when in reality you knew exactly what he meant because you felt the same.

"Fuck- No that's not what I meant." he was getting pissed, he can't hold his emotions in anymore, after liking you for almost 3 years and keeping his emotions bottled up, he couldn't stay silent about it anymore.

"Then what do you mean, Gyu?" "Would you stop calling me that?!" your eyes widened at his sudden outburst, you'd never seen him this angry before, let alone be angry at you.

Cautious steps were being taken back from him, you stopped as your legs hit the couch behind you. "Don't call me that. Not unless you don't mean it." He was tired, tired of the flirtatious jokes you would make around him, tired of your teasing, and tired of you hanging around his members more than him. 

"I am so sick and tired of everything you're doing for me. And you don't even mean anything you say or do!" tears were now pricking at the corner of your eyes, so close to falling down your cheeks like a waterfall. "What's gotten into you? Did something happen with the guys? I can talk to Taehyun and see-"

"Enough about the guys! Don't you get it yet?!" despite what is happening, seeing you afraid of him made him even more angry, jealous, and annoyed. He couldn't take it anymore and so he did it, he confessed. In the weirdest way possible.

"We're not just friends and you fucking know it."

You were taken aback by his sudden confession, you were sure that after all these years of friendship, he didn't like you back, he would always talk about his experiences with you and it annoyed you and made you jealous even if you didn't want to admit it. "Is that what this is about? Are you sure you aren't saying this because you're angry?"

He grabbed your shoulders and pulled you closer to him, your chests almost touching. "Why the fuck would I joke about having a crush on you for 3 years?" his voice was hushed as he looked at you, and you could tell from the look in his eyes that he was telling the truth.

You finally let your tears fall as you smacked his chest multiple times, "Why the hell did it take so long for you to tell me!" his only response was to hug you once more, mumbling several apologies in your ear.

"Did you know how hard it was for me? For you to talk about your experiences to my face and not feel jealous?" Beomgyu's hand gently reached up to wipe your tears, you gently smiled as you held his wrist. "I'm trying to say I like you too, asshole." Beomgyu chuckled at the harsh nickname, as he continued to caress your cheeks, not planning on letting go.

"I don't know, I think I liked Gyu better than asshole." his sly remark made you smile brightly, and you made a move to detach his hands from your cheeks, as you held both of them in yours, gripping tightly. "Then maybe I should do the honors in asking."

You stepped closer than possible to him, "Choi Beomgyu, will you be my boyfriend?" Beomgyu let out a loud sigh and made a face to look like he was thinking, which made you giggle.

"Only if you become my girlfriend Y/n." you made the same thinking face as him, making him smile brightly. "I accept your offer."

And taking you by surprise, Beomgyu leaned in and closed the gap between you, capturing your lips into a soft kiss. You smiled into the kiss and happily kissed him back, slowly bringing your arms to wrap around his neck.

A few seconds pass by and he detaches his lips from yours, both of you smiling brightly. "What was that for?" you ask as you gently lean your forehead against his.

"Sealing the contract."

#choi beomgyu #choi soobin #choi yeonjun #heuningkai #kang taehyun #txt fanfic #txt yeonjun #tomorrow x together #txt x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu x y/n #txt beomgyu #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #txt fluff #txt oneshots

[bimboficationblues]

what would you put on a political theory syllabus if you could

like an intro/survey course? so the conventional theory class in Anglo-American poli-phil goes roughly like this: Plato/Aristotle -> Machiavelli (if you fuck nasty) -> Hobbes/Locke/Rousseau -> J.S. Mill -> Marx (sometimes, and only with the disclaimer that this guy needs to lighten up!) -> omission of like 120 years of global thought, including the shifts wrought by two World Wars, postcolonialism, and 1968 -> Rawls. there's usually, but not consistently, some idiosyncratic liberal picks from the various omitted periods/regions based on whatever the academic in question is preoccupied with, or attempts (sometimes sincere, sometimes half-hearted) to add some diversity to the lineup, most typically some form of liberal-leaning writings on feminism or racism or occasionally postcolonialism.

I think this abridged history is like, okay but not great (Charles Mills' Decolonizing Political Philosophy is a great piece on why). it’s produced by a combination of both the discipline's narrow post-Rawls liberal paradigm, and the constraints of intro/survey courses, which aim for breadth rather than depth (which I think is generally reasonable at least on its face), so the trick I would want to pull off is making something that works within the latter constraint while not succumbing to the paradigm.

the question sort of demands interrogating what a theory class is for in the ideal sense, what it uniquely can offer (so, going beyond specific skills that can be developed in other ways, like learning to write, understand, critique, and respond to long-form argument, or the more cynical pipeline-to-labor stuff like credentialing).

I think some main goals would be 1) contextualizing your existence in the world as a political subject, 2) be able to pass an ideological Turing test, i.e. accurately represent the substance of different perspectives and worldviews such that you could "pass" for the authentic thing [so I would include writers/writings that I detest for KYE reasons], 3) increase your autonomy as a political agent and ability to recognize how these various concepts and systems underlie the fabric of our political language and practice and how you can apply them in reality in collaboration with others.

an extension of these goals, imo, is that political thought without a history is dead in the water - this is why I have kind of a hardline opposition to trying to learn political theory mostly through social media and why "leftist theory recs" on here usually drive me absolutely crazy. so any teaching of these readings would probably require a decent level of contextualization.

then there's a question of structure. my intro class was actually pretty enjoyable despite following the pattern described above, as my prof centered the class around different chapters of Plato's Republic, using each chapter as a jumping off point to talk about connections with a more modern political thinker while also incorporating some short fiction of Octavia Butler. cool stuff! I think organizing around theme is edifying. there's tradeoffs to doing chronological vs thematic organization of readings though, which I want to keep in mind

so with all that I think it would look roughly like this (though frankly my reach might be exceeding my grasp), and you could pretty much reorganize the readings to be chronological if you wanted:

"The Political"/Power: I think spending some time on "metapolitics" is important, like what politics is and what the function of political philosophy is. So start with some different perspectives on realism vs. idealism (the Republic, the Melian dialogue, The Prince) and sliding into competing definitions of politics as conflict vs consensus (the Arendt/Fanon and Schmitt/Benjamin "debates")

Authority: Hobbes/Rousseau/Hume on the social contract, the Crito/Thoreau/MLK on civil disobedience, ideally an anarchist of some stripe (would rather include Bakunin or Kropotkin but R.P. Wolff might be the more cohesive move)

Equality/Property: Locke's Second Treatise, Rousseau's Discourse on Inequality, The Communist Manifesto and/or Marx on primitive accumulation as an alternative genealogy of property/money, Nietzsche's Genealogy of Morality as illustrative of a reactionary/aristocratic perspective on equality (you could swap in Aristotle instead for a different take), Fanon in Black Skins White Masks

Justice: Plato, Rawls on distributive justice, Nussbaum on capabilities/global justice, Mills on the racial contract

Freedom: Mill's On Liberty, Marcuse's "Critique of Pure Tolerance," some chapters from Capital V1, "Throwing Like a Girl" by Young (plus maybe some Beauvoir/Wittig). work in Berlin and Pettit's competing ideas of liberty

then maybe end on Foucault writing in a broad mode about subjectivity OR Benjamin's "On the Concept of History" - either would be good for a kind of "call to action" that I like in a politics class

there are some concepts that might warrant their own segment (domination, violence, sovereignty, revolution, security, progress - I waffled on making "property" its own unit), but I'm trying to not go too crazy (and it's possible they could get folded into other concepts as corollaries). I'm also leaving out various authors that I do think merit inclusion (Adorno, Dewey, D&G, Lenin & Mao, Althusser, Davis, various contemporary writers), but I would probably follow the path of my Middle Eastern Politics professor - put supplemental/suggested readings in there for the freaks that like this stuff.

and finally I think the above is more tailored to be an introduction (if a somewhat sweeping one), you could take an alternative tack and construct "contemporary issues in political theory" (e.g. migration/refugees, climate, economic crisis, security state/surveillance) and I think that would also be a rewarding survey

#instantly regret posting this but here we are

[sacr3d-joeyxx]

Overcoming Demons

Joey x Fem!Reader

Request from: iminlovewithmycarrrr

*Could you do a Joey jordison x reader where the reader is a vocalist and guitarist for a black metal band (she can scream and sing very well) and her band keeps playing the same gigs as slipknot and he just gets obsessed with the way she performs. The guys all tell Joey to ask her out*

Quinn’s POV

The crowd went wild as we performed our last song.. I said thank you and that it was a joy playing for Des Moines, Iowa. We as Ritualistic Suicide was done for the night. I was in love with the sound of encores and some occasional ‘I love you’.

It wasn’t hard to perform but it did come with its massive drawbacks, well just for me of course..Having to scream but also having to balance it with singing was hard. I got into black metal at the ripe age of 19 and I was sold when I heard the screams it was a form of art to me. Screaming is what I wanted to do nothing else but when we had to kick out the guitarist for getting arrested because of drugs but let’s get this straight there’s nothing wrong with doing drugs in this band but when we started to actually get gigs and record deals we all went cold turkey; well except him and he started to get involved with the law and then we all knew that the dude just simply had to go. I then took his spot after that. It sucked mostly because he named the band but it was whatever. So my job was now vocals and guitar…not impossible but it was in the beginning. I just had to learn differently, it took a lot of practice but it worked!

This time the black blood came out at the right time, it actually came out! It goes with our new single called ‘Homicide’ which ends with us covered in fake blood by it coming out near our eyes, mouths, ears and hands while playing. It’s kinda hard to explain how it works but anywhere you have tubing on your face you cover it with black face paint to balance it out; the tubes are a solid black color and it’s mechanically released with a push button that someone pushes backstage for us. It makes us look like we’re performing a sacrifice..I guess.. but a couple of drawbacks is it stains your skin like no other.. the other is getting it off your equipment..you see I have a pure white guitar, our bassist has a blood red one…you leave it on too long..well it’s fucking over..

Honestly I’d say the best part of this whole thing is a couple of things actually, first one is seeing the crowd; the way they listen to the music and move with the rhythm is a fish out of water experience. The second one is hearing our music on the radio or it getting mentioned in any form of media. Lastly getting all our cosmetics on, no black metal band is allowed to preform without it; well you can it’s just frowned upon in this profession. It’s funny seeing your closet friend’s faces in basically all white. You think you’re in a dream or something when you first start to put it on.

The best part about doing the makeup is the designs, most of the white face paint ends up in my hair by the end of the show, I look 50+ years older when I step off the stage. It comes out..kinda but it’s still going to be there for a couple of weeks..You’ll find white spots on your skin where you thought it was gone. It hides our face I guess but not really.. the band that almost always plays after us, especially when it’s a gig that could be a mix of all sorts of bands. They wear masks and red jumpsuits..crazy how much they look like a band in them. They are called Slipknot but I don’t know much about them really except for the band having nine people. I mean we have five people but nine is way too much yet they make it work.

Honestly they really intimidating, like they could all definitely be serial killers.. but they are the way they are for reasons. I’m taller than their drummer..he’s gotta be 5’3 or something. I’m 5’10..but there’s nothing wrong with short kings. I do think he’s kinda funny though, he’s just a mass of passion and speed. You could obviously tell when he plays that he enjoys what he does.

Any second now our drummer is gonna need my help to get the kick drum get in the case. The stage was already set and what not when we got there but literally 2 hours before opening Cam did something to it and just didn’t sound right anymore. Lucky for us I told him to pack an extra..of course he did but it’s fucking funny how the kick drum couldn’t survive a practice session.. nonetheless we fixed it just in time.

“Quinn! I need help..the kick drum..I can’t get it in the case!”

Bingo, like fucking clock work. I chuckled to myself as I walked over there and looked how it was placed in the case.

“Well, no shit..if you haven’t noticed.. you forgot to fold in the foam in the corner on the right..just tuck it back in”

He looked at me then itched his head, and went to go fix it before closing it and giving me a thumbs up..I rolled my eyes and turned to walk offstage..Now I had to find three others, it won’t be hard because they are in one of three places. The green-room, signings, or loading things on the bus. Normally we’d do signings but last time we did that someone brought a human skull..nothing wrong with that but none of us wanted to deface someone’s mom. So they’re not doing that…honestly I’m going go to go with the green-room; Declan, Mex, and Juz are all fat..not really but they have a tendency to stuff their faces with food after a performance like that.

I hope I’m not scarring any ‘normal person’ in my adventure to find the three stooges, but I probably will..It appears to always happen.

*Whatever the fucking sound is called when two people bump into each other when neither is paying attention.*

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Joey’s POV

She looked like a god..an immortal god…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain what she does to me. The makeup, her clothes, her hair.. she looked perfect..to me at least..I don’t think she’ll look my way..she’d have to look down as well..

I can’t remember how many times I’ve been doing the same gigs as them but it’s obvious that it’s on purpose. All of my band mates keep telling me to talk to her..I wish it was easy as that but I’m intimidated by her..she’s gotta be 6’1 and on top of that she’s in platforms..I have balls with certain things but women scare me..fucking weird how that works..your attracted to them but scared shitless of them.

Maybe I should go talk to her..fuck it…she had a great show and I should tell her..fuck it!

*Whatever the fucking sound is called when two people bump into each other when neither is paying attention.*

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Quinn’s POV

I brushed my hair out of my face and now knew why I didn’t see him..it’s cause he’s were fucking short.. but what’s funnier about this is that he’s wearing a bright red jumpsuit.

“Woah! Sorry man!”

“You’re good..I kinda was looking for you”

“Really? What do you need from me?”

“Just wanted to talk about how you preformed out there..”

“Oh..thank you! It was definitely up there with one of our first shows..mainly because it all went according to schedule…”

“You’re welcome..-“

“So sorry for cutting you off but I’ve gotta get going to find my mates, you can come along if you want..your set isn’t until 8:00pm and it’s 6:21pm now..”

“Uhhh-sure I’ve got time..”

“Cool..uhh just try and keep up, I’ve got long legs.. y’know..”

I walk fast, mean I don’t have a choice really I’ve given such long legs.. but they get longer in platforms..I turned the corner and looked at the wall with the little sign pointing left saying the green-room was that way…I looked back and the guy was still keeping up with me. Honestly he was probably sweating bullets under everything he was wearing, I would be too. I stopped before looking at the doors..bingo, found it. I looked back at him and he gave me a thumbs up..

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Joey’s POV

God..I honestly think she knows that I’m crazy about her..fuck..the things I would do to her..the bright white stage makeup with the black blood was still wet..her hands were covered in it. It looked like tree roots as it patterned up her wrists and eventually her arms. The messy jet black hair..covered in white makeup..I’m fucking obsessed with this woman..and she has to know..

“So.. you single…?”

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Quinn’s POV

I whipped my head around to him, I go wide-eyed while looking at him..I don’t know if he’s being serious or he’s just trying to be funny.

“Huh? Why are you asking..you interested?”

“……”

“Hello..I asked you a question?”

“..yeah..I am….”

“Huh..sorry I couldn’t hear you..”

“…..”

“Yeah, I am”

“You’re not like fucking with me are you?”

“….no?”

Oh so he’s actually being real..uh I don’t know what to do here I barely know him..should I give him my number.. shit I don’t know. This could be a set up from his band or mine..but I know mine wouldn’t fuck with me like this…they don’t have big enough balls to do so. He honestly doesn’t seem bad from what I can tell but he looks like he’s about to pass out from the stress of this situation..fidgety little guy..picking at his fingernails while waiting for my response.

“You’re one hundred percent positive?”

“Yes, I’m one hundred fucking percent positive..it’s a serious question..that I would like to know the answer to”

I could give him my number, I don’t have a piece of paper though.. but I happen to have a sharpie..

“Come here real quick..”

I reached into my back pocket and pulled at a sharpie as he made his way over here, I looked at him and smiled softly.

“Takes some balls to say that, y’know?”

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Joey’s POV

Okay..she took it well..maybe she’ll give me her number..oh wait she telling me to go to her..the hell is she doing digging in her back pocket..oh wait it’s a sharpie..fuck I don’t have any paper she can use..

“So..has this ever worked before?”

“Not really..I don’t don’t talk to them if I’m interested in them..they are scary..”

“Give me your hand real quick..hopefully it doesn’t rub off during your gig..”

I gave her my hand and she held it was she wrote her name and number on my hand..her hand was cold like a corpse..but who cares? I could see her looking at my chipped black fingernail polish..I looked up at her and we locked eyes for a moment.. the world went quiet and it felt like it stopped spinning..

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Quinn’s POV

I wrote my name and number on his hand and then looked at his nail polish that was black and in the process of chipping. I looked up at him and we locked eyes for a moment.. I felt the world stop I knew he did too.

“Thanks….Quinn..”

“You’re quite welcome”

“I’m going to head back now..”

“Okay..after your set come find me if we’re still here..if not then use my number.. answer it eventually”

I sighed softly as he began to walked away, I knew his gig was going to be a lot longer than ours was..they had a bigger fan base than we did but it’s whatever. I either had the choice to stay here another night or wait for him to text me.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Joey’s POV

Fucking hell..wow I actually have her number and seems like she didn’t just give a fake one either. Okay..okay!! I guess that’s a win for me..

#joey jordison #corey taylor #sid wilson #chris fehn #craig jones #jim root #mick thomson #shawn crahan #paul gray #on my knees #oneshot #short story #oc #slipknot

[theshelbyclan]

Mine

Summary: When she took a job at the night club, all the second Shelby sister wanted was to be in control of her own life. Unfortunately, her brothers don’t approve

(gif by @tatianapetrovna​)

A/N: Okay so this one took me ages, because I spend way too much time researching the history of dance, of prejudice and even old maps and descriptions of 1920’s Birmingham XD All because anon requested: Thura, you wonderful wonderful person. I’ve been saving this request and waiting for your requests to reopen for your talents. Could I please request a Shelby sister where she loves dancing and becomes an exotic dancer at a club, and of course her brothers are horrified when they find out but she manages to convince them that it’s all for her own empowerment Historically, I hope this is all correct, but I put my best woman onto the research as well as I did my own research. There’s no such thing as an exotic dancer yet at that time, or at least the term doesn’t exist, but things like ‘dancing girls’ or ‘the variety’ obviously do exist. These forms of variety were more entertainment for the upper class btw, because they didn’t have to bother with mores as much. You did have different kinds of ‘music hall’ entertainment, a little similar, which was more the working-class entertainment. This wasn’t prostitution, but there were a lot of grey areas. Either way, all women up on the stage, whether they performed half-naked or not, were suspected and accused of prostitution. Legally, the Criminal Law Amendment of 1885, the law that also made ‘gross indecency’ between men punishable, also dealt with sex trafficking and blurred the lines between acting and prostitution even more.

Shelby sis a few years younger than Ada in this, 18, older than Finn, and this takes place around season two. Hope you like this! Words: 3411 ***

Ada’s London home still looked like a vardo, you thought, as you sat on the brightly coloured sofa in het front room. Sure, it was big and fancy, provided to her by Tommy, but half the rooms weren’t being used. The maids’ rooms in the back of the house were simply gathering dust, because Ada couldn’t bear it on her political conscience. And the furniture, well, it wasn’t very different from their interior at Watery Lane: a strange mixture of old items and always a little too colourful and crowded to be properly respectable. 

“What?” your sister demanded, reading the deep thoughts on your face. “I like your home,” youquickly said. “Liar,” Ada threw back, “What’s brought you here, then?” You got straight to the point, “I’m sick of Tommy looming over me like I’m still a child. And it’s not just him. John feels he can interfere in whatever I’m doing as well, keeps banging on about me getting married. Even Arthur keeps taps on where I’m going and where I’ve been. I feel like a fucking prisoner in my own house.” “Ah,” Ada said sarcastically, “Welcome to the life of a Shelby woman. Must’ve been nice, being their little princess, but now it’s time to grow up.” “And that’s what I fucking want! I want to be able to make my own way.” “Well, you can’t sweetheart, not while they’re around. Remember I moved to London to get away from them? And here I am: sitting in Tommy Shelby’s fucking house,” she sipped her drink a little too aggressively. You downed yours and sighed, “You got married, Ada. I have no fucking intention of doing that.” “Oh? Why not?” “No one’s good enough.” Ada laughed, “Bravo.” The two of you sat in silence for a while. In many ways, you were very similar. Two sisters, quite close in age, who were Shelby’s without a doubt, but sick of the business. Ada coped with all of it by distancing herself, through sarcasm and aloofness. You had tried to do the same and cursed your Shelby name in silence, but your brothers wouldn’t let you. They were always so protectiveand it irritated you to no end. Even when you decided to buy a dress for yourself, one that you had picked out, it was theirmoney you were spending. “I want out, Ada.” “So get out.” *** Being a woman in the 20’s wasn’t easy. You’d heard talk of women being more liberated now, of fighting for their rights and being able to control their own lives. This may have been the case for rich upper-class women or those without brothers, being able to march in protests, but not when you were a Shelby from Small Heath. As you walked through muddy streets, you saw all those women selling their bodies and you wondered: were they free? Did they choose? Probably not. Not here. At night, you loved to dance. Often, you walked for over an hour to get to a pub or club where your brothers wouldn’t find you. The Shelby name did help you there, it meant they served drinks to a woman alone, but it wasn’t so much about drinking alone. What mattered to you was the feeling of freedom, of going out and a party never seeming to end. Of dancing, dancing and dancing, and no one telling you to stop. And so you walked until you ended up at the club where you wanted to be. Being blessed with the Shelby good looks wasn’t a bad thing either. Outside, you saw the rich and fancy young men lining up. They didn’t have to worry about their reputation, they didn’t even have to worry about getting arrested, because if they were, the judge would simply let them get off with a simple fine, which they would be able to pay easily. “Alright, fella’s!” you called out cheerfully, turning on your best smile. At once, you noticed them checking you out. You made sure you’d put on your best dress and just as easy as that, you were on the arm of one of them, and he happily paid your fee for you to get inside. “Dance with me, sweetheart,” he breathed into your ear, already drunk by the smell of things. Intoxicated by the music and atmosphere, you danced and forgot all about being a Shelby. Drinks were offered to you left and right, so you eventually had to excuse yourself to visit the powder room. Another girl eyed you as you were fixing your lipstick. She asked, a smile playing around her lips, “First time out in ages, love?” “Nah,” you replied, “But it feels like that sometimes. Finally, free again.” The girl laughed and you noticed how absolutely gorgeous she was, pearly white teeth blinking against dark brown skin and a skirt that seemed to sway even when she didn’t move. Immediately, you were envious of her and all that she represented. She said, “You work at the Alex?” The Alexandra Theatre offered many variety acts and you knew your brothers went there on occasion. What really went on in there, you couldn’t be sure, but you were certain they’d never want you to come along. “No,” you sighed, “My brothers would kill me.” “Luckily I don’t have to worry about mine anymore,” the girl replied airily, “All of us girls, we got ourselves a lodging together. The people don’t approve, but we’re free to do as we please.” “I want that,” you said, without even realising you’d spoken out loud.

“Well, you can, sweetheart,” she turned to you, “If you really want it.” “How?” “I know a man who can get you a job at the Hippodrome. I mean, I’ve seen you; you’re good with people and you know how to dance. And if you ever need a place to stay, if your brothers kick you out, you’re always welcome to stay with us.” Everything she said made you feel so excited, but also scared. And then you asked doubtfully, “Why would you help me?” “Oh, I was once a lot like you. You want to get out, right? You want to make your own money and have your own life. Fuck what people will think of you, they’ll judge you no matter what, at least you can decide on this. You decide to dance and who to make eye contact with and who can touch you and most of all, who fuckingcan’t. Men no longer control your body, only you. That’s what you want, isn’t it, sweetheart?” And that was exactly what you wanted. ***

Weeks had gone by and you were managing your double life quite well. Your brothers were busy with doing whatever it was they were doing and Ada kept her mouth shut. She was too busy trying to not be a Shelby anyway. At the club, you’d met the most amazing girls and had finally found likeminded souls. It was as if they belonged to a different era. The idea of girls having so much freedom to work, earn their own money and just have a good time in the process had been mind-blowing to you, but so, so liberating.

At first, you’d only been a background dancer for the different variety acts, but eventually you’d moved up to doing your own acts as well. Your fan-dance was particularly popular amongst the rich student boys. And, truth be told, you loved the attention. You loved being up on the stage, dancing away and being no longer made to cover up. Of course, many wanted more of you than just to watch you, but you still managed to turn them away with just a cheeky laugh or a decisive ‘no’. This was the life for you, you were certain.

Aunt Polly, however, did have her suspicions and one night she straight up told you, “Are you safe, working down at that club?” You’d tried to deny it at first, but there was no point: Polly had seen you exit the club and you quickly realized she knew everything going on in Birmingham. “Take this,” she’d told you and handed you a small revolver, “It’ll fit down your dress.” You’d protested a little, but knew she was right: better safe than sorry. Still, you didn’t plan on living like this forever. Freedom was limited if it meant you had to sneak about in the evenings and lie to everyone you loved. The girl you’d met at the club kept on offering you a room though and you thought seriously about taking her up on her offer. This, however, would force your hand: you’d have to tell your brothers about your work. *** It was a few days after your brothers had had their holiday in London. You’d come home from work late at night and Tommy was sitting there, waiting for you in the kitchen. “And where have you been?” he demanded, darkly. “Out.” He nodded slowly, but kept looking at you, “I have contacts inside the factories, Y/N. They tell me you no longer work there.” Obviously, you’d given up your job at the BSA, because why would you do both? “You always told me there was no need for me to work,” you threw back, “You always said that you’d take care of me.” “I did. But you never wanted that, did you? You wanted to be your own fucking woman.” Head held high, you asked, “What’s wrong with that?” “Nothing,” Tommy shrugged, “If you don’t mind people talking.” “Fuck people.” “Where did you get the coat, Y/N?” he fired next. “I bought it.” But you realised your mistake at once. Tommy smiled coldly, “With what money? There was nothing taken from the safe.” You started fidgeting a little and turned on your heels, planning to make a quick getaway. Your brother continued, “See, me and John and Arthur went to London today. Business. And we went down to the Eden Club, you might have heard of it? And the things I saw there, Y/N… The music and the booze and all those fucking half-naked girls, men fucking them right there in their seats. Nothing but fucking maniacs out there…”

“Get to the point, Tommy.” Tommy’s eyes went dark again and he pointed at you, “They might as well be fucking you.” “I’m not fucking anyone!” you protested. But he slammed a hand down on the table, “I know you’re working at once of those clubs, Y/N, and you tried to keep it a secret, but guess what? Nothing happens in this city without my consent. And you’re not having it.” The same fury you saw in him was rising up in you as well, “You don’t control me, Tommy.” “I do. And you will do as I say.” He whispered venom, “I will discuss this with your brothers, but I can tell you right now, they feel the same. So here it is: you’ll stop working there right fucking now.” “No!” you shouted out, “I fucking won’t!” “I will not have a fucking whorefor a sister!”

That hurt, so you turned around and left. Behind you, you heard Tommy shouting, “You’ll stop, you hear me?” *** But you didn’t stop. You just told the other girls you were sick and had to take off work for a few days. The boss wouldn’t put up with it for much longer though. For another week you kept pretending you had errands to run or friends to meet at night, but your brothers would no longer let you out of their sight. Surprisingly enough, none of them approved. One night, you’d had enough and the warning had come that if you didn’t dance tonight, your job would go to another. So, putting on your best dress, you were planning to leave the house and no one was going to stop you. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Arthur growled from the betting shop. You hadn’t even noticed his presence. “Out.” “Tommy’s told us…” he started. “Yes, I know what he’s told you, alright?” you said without patience, “He told you your sister is a whore who fucks rich men for money, right?” Arthur looked down, but repeated, “You’re not going nowhere.” “Watch me,” you hissed and made your way to the door, but Arthur grabbed your arm before you could leave. At once, you spun around and slapped him, shouting, “Get the fuck off me!” But your brother was the stronger one, raising his voice to drown yours out, trying to calm you down, but to no avail. That’s when John came running, bellowing, “What the fuck is going on here?” “She defied Tommy’s orders, John,” Arthur explained, “She’s still working at that club.” “Fucking orders,really?” you breathed. John sighed, and for a moment you thought he’d side with you, but then he said, “I’ll go and get Tommy.”

“I’m going to be late,” you tried desperately to sound casual, as all three brothers now gathered around you. Tommy smoked emotionless, “And maybe then they’ll fire you instead of you leaving like I fucking told you to.” Roughly, you pulled back your arm from Arthur’s grip, “ And I fucking told you, Thomas, I’m keeping this job. Now, if you don’t want me living here anymore because I’m such a fucking embarrassment to the good Shelby name, I’ll move out!” “Move out to where?” he scoffed. “A friend has a place where I can stay.” “Fine,” he raised his eyebrows, “Go and fucking live with her.” “Thomas,” your aunt had now also joined the party, “Let’s talk about this first.” “There’s nothing to talk about, Aunt Pol,” Arthur said, “It’s all in hand.” “I can see that,” she replied sarcastically, “I’m guessing this is about Y/N’s new job?” John looked at Polly, “You knew about this?” “Of course, I do. Nothing goes on in this house without me knowing about it.” John turned back to you, “Why the fuck would you think you can do that job without any danger?” “Because I have a gun!” Smiling, you held up the weapon that you’d just produced from your garter. “Pol, I decided,” Tommy continued, “She’s not doing it.” “Why!” you called out, exasperated, “Why are you all so against it? I mean, it’s not fucking morals that’s the problem, is it? We’re the Shelby’s! And people already think we’re scum, so who the fuck cares!” “It’s not safe,” John replied at once. And you actually believed his main worry was for your safety. After all, he’d been the one who had wanted to marry Lizzie Stark. The others had all laughed at him. Hell, even you had. And in that very moment, your view of him and that entire situation, which had seemed so funny back then, changed. “It’s not… right,” Arthur protested. You rolled your eyes at that, “You, all of you, all the time, pay for sex. Don’t fucking tell me it’s not right.” “So, that’s what you do, eh?” Tommy asked, “You sell sex.” “No!” “And you somehow think we’d be alright with that,” he continued, voice softening a little bit, “It’s not alright, Y/N.” Polly looked from him to you, and said, “She doesn’t, Tommy. She’s a dancer.” “What’s the fucking difference?” he laughed. “This is the last time I’m going to say this:” you sighed, “I do not fuck men for money!” Three pairs of eyes looked sceptically back at you. “I’m a dancer, like Aunt Polly said. I do the variety on most nights, when they do they sketches about the politicians? I’m a background dancer.” You paused for a moment, “And recently I’ve also been asked to do some solo performances. It’s just me dancing on stage, yes I’m not covered from head to toe, but I’m up on stage. No one can touch me. My body is there to look at, nothing else.” “Your body is there to look at,” Tommy shook his head, cynical smirk playing about his lips. “Yes,” you hissed, “Because whether you like it or not, my body is mine. I fucking decide what I do with it and you know what? I’m fucking beautiful and everyone over there thinks so. And I’m good at dancing, Tommy, I’m actually really fucking good at it. But I dance, because I decide. I can flaunt all of it, because it’s mine.” Arthur still had a very dark expression, “What about after the show. Me and John, we’ve been to the Alex, so we know what the girls do…” “They walk around, chat up the men and sip their drinks while sitting on their laps,” you filled in the blanks, “I know.” “Oh, they do a lot more than that,” John smirked, but he quickly looked down to hide it. “But I don’t.” “Why would you even want to do this?” John looked up, “Why this of all the things you can do?” “Why not?” you threw back, “I’m good at it, I’m making my own money, and for the first time I don’t feel ashamed or scared for being a woman.” Tommy shook his head again, “You’re being exploited, Y/N.” “That’s rich coming from you,” Aunt Polly laughed, “So it’s alright if you go to them, alright for you to exploit them, but not when your sister dances out of her own free will?” “Do we have a man inside?” John asked Tommy, “Like the doorman?” And when tommy nodded, he said, “I’ll talk to him and make sure he looks out for Y/N.” “You’re bloody agreeing to this?!” Arthur shouted. John only shrugged in reply, but when you shared a look with him, you knew he understood.

Arthur opened his mouth again, but you quickly cut him off, “It’s feminism, Arthur, and you wouldn’t understand.” “What the fuck is feminism?” “Exactly.” Now the only one left to deal with was Tommy and he was obviously the most adamant one. Stubborn and angry, he stood there, cigarette against his lips. But he wasn’t the only Shelby who wouldn’t budge when pushed; you could be just as stubborn as he was. “If you hate men looking at me or the idea of them paying for my body, maybe you should reconsider using women like that yourself, Tommy,” you fired. He locked eyes with you, which made you more nervous than anything he could’ve said. Then ground out, “That’s the thing, Y/N, I know men.” “Oh, so do I, Tommy. Better than you do, I’m sure, especially now that I’ve worked this job.” He rolled his eyes. “Listen to me,” you urged, “Because I know you can understand. It’s all just a game, everything I do is a game. I do what I’m good at and I show them what they can’t have, and they fucking pay for it. They pay for what they can’t have, and even you have to be impressed by that. I know how they think, these rich boys at the Hippodrome, and when they think I like them or just talk to them for a second, they’ll give me everything I want. The rich toffs in control? I can play them all. I’m in control, Tommy. I am. They think the girls are easy? Theyare. They don’t buy me and I don’t sell sex. I own them.” A glimpse of something like recognition passed over Tommy’s face and you knew what you said made sense to him. Because in many ways, you weren’t as different. “You think I’m a whore?” you asked, “You really think so?” He looked down and thought about it. Then he said, “Everyone’s a whore. We just sell different parts of ourselves.” “Exactly.” And that’s when you knew he did understand. “Let her go,” Polly said softly after a while. “Fine, you can go,” your brother finally agreed, “But you come to me if there’s any trouble.” With a smile, you nodded. “Also, don’t expect to see us in there,” Arthur grumbled, sounding a little sad that he could no longer come to the club now that his baby sister was working there. Absolutely excited, you sprinted out the door, because you really were running late now. But after about a minute, you came back running inside again. “Now what?” John asked. “I forgot my feathers!” you called out, while thumping up the stairs. “Fucking feathers,” Tommy sighed. And with your most charming smile, you came hurrying back down again, “For my fan-dance!” But none of the brothers really wanted to know. *** Masterlist

#tommy shelby #arthur shelby #ada shelby #ada thorne #john shelby #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfiction #polly gray #polly shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #shelby sister reader #shelby!sister #sister!shelby #theshelbyclan #the variety #mine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic

[monstercampus]

Holy shit, i loved the Dean Lysandre piece! Igot a few questions:

1: how big are the eggs? Because if the dean wants 10, how big is the poor human gonna be? (might be drawing this over the weekend hehe)

2. Would the dean take pleasure in showing off his little human wife or would he keep his little treasure all to himself like the greedy dragon man he is?

3. Would he allow the reader to keep being a student or would he just write her off as "graduated early with honors" and then just move her into his home?

4. Would the dean have a special little area in his office for his human? Hidden by curtains, but behind is a very round bellied human asleep on a plush round bed with her school papers scattered around her?

5. Would any drama happen on school grounds with royal dragonic families being pissed that the dean married and breeded with a human? Any dramatic acts of petty revenge??? (does the dean find himself being very protective of his human????👀)

6. Is there any very domestic habits the dean and his human would do? Of course between fucking like rabbits, what kind of sweet doting things would the dean do??

Sorry if this is a lot, my brain is racing

hehe 🐉🐉🐉 dragon time!!!

1 -> With other dragons they tend to show only when they're carrying a whole clutch of eggs at one time, since they usually carry them until they’re close to hatching to keep them safe before they've laid. Surprisingly, even though it's incredibly rare for dragons and other species to breed (at least when they're not hiding it from the world) dragons have a very sophisticated egg process that translates well to other species, even if they're not of the egg-laying variety. While a human or other monster could carry several eggs at once, knowing Lysandre he isn't going to want you to strain yourself--so he'll likely only have you carry one at a time if you're going to carry it to near full-term, which would probably look no different than a normal human pregnancy from the outside.

But! The other way, and perhaps the preferable way, is a process known as "long-term laying"--in which he would deposit several eggs at once, fertilize them, and then have you deliver them within 1-2 days. The eggs are much smaller and easier to pass at this stage, probably not any bigger than a cue ball, and once they've been laid they'd be buried at the bottom of one of the gold piles in his hoard for at least two moon cycles. Although it's usually only practiced in this fashion by the nobility nowadays, it's an ancient form of preservation for the draconic species that's saved quite a few bloodlines from going extinct and has been practiced by all manner of dragons. The eggs will grow to be about the size of an ostrich egg within those two months, but after that period has passed their growth will stagnate and they'll go into a sort of hibernation state, which they can stay in practically indefinitely in nearly any environment until they’re unearthed and incubated into hatching. Lysandre himself was the product of this kind of egg process, as his bloodline and dragon species was declared extinct for about 400 years before his egg was recovered and he was hatched under an adoptive couple. So, with you being human, he would likely encourage you to go that route so as to monitor your condition better and make it easier for you to endure the birthing process....though that doesn't mean he won't eventually let you try incubating them longer, if only so he can spend more time rubbing that pretty, swollen belly you've got <3

2 -> Greed is definitely a symptom he suffers from and he wants to keep you all to himself, but he knows better than to be like that when you're not at all used to the possessiveness of dragons. Yes, he'll get grabby and greedy and spill filth into your mouth as he humps you throughout the night, but in the day you're completely free to roam the grounds and visit whoever you like, talk to your friends, go out for drinks, and play sports or do your little hobbies on your own. He trusts that you'll keep your interests as a couple in mind and he really doesn't worry about that aspect too much, the only thing he does do is jump at the chance to frighten off anyone who might push your boundaries too far and try to make a move on you. He loves knowing that when you're out and about without him everyone still knows you're his partner, and he's more than comfortable with that....though, when you get home, he's usually got plenty of reasons to remind you of whose bed you're sleeping in every night. Very, very carnal reasons.

3 -> You can certainly keep being a student if you like; he lives on campus for the majority of the year, so it's no bother at all to make time for each other if you still want to attend to your studies. He'll constantly (and secretly) be cancelling his meetings and saving paperwork to do late at night so he can spend quality time with you between classes, but if you're over the whole school thing or you're eager to graduate he'll pull the strings you need. Most of the professors at MC can be bribed pretty easily anyways (it's a monster thing) and it's not considered that unethical in monster society, so a few favours and gifts here and there and you'll have your honours diploma in your hands by the end of the week. And then you're allllllll his.

4 -> He does! Since he lives on campus, he's got a semi-secret entrance in his office that leads down into the depths beneath the school, where he keeps his hoard tucked away in the MC vault. Although he does own an apartment in the staff living quarters, he's got his own private living space down there that would be perfectly comfortable for a human with a few touches here and there. You wouldn't be down there all the time since there's no natural light or sunlight, but it's the perfect place for you to rest when you're carrying your eggs and an ideal spot to keep close to when it's time to lay them.

5 -> Absolutely! Dragons are dramatic creatures and you should expect to witness some rather flagrant displays of jealousy and snobbery while you’re in the Dean's care. Challenges to duels, attempts at bribery, and marriage proposals to your draconic lover while you stand right next to him are all things you unfortunately have to be prepared for. But Lysandre has nearly perfected the art of stoic rejection over his lifetime and will turn each and every one of them away, although his politeness will wane not with the stubborn ones, but the ones who turn their ire towards you or try to turn him against you with false rumours and lies. That's when he'll offer to fight their proposed duel in your stead, and each and every time he does their champion will turn and flee with their tail between their legs at the very thought. Draconic duels are to the death, after all, and next to nobody wants to fight for their life against a Drakon--especially not when he's so angry he's grinning from ear to ear.

6 -> Lysandre loves walking with you, so a daily stroll is often how he expresses his affection. It's never too strenuous (and if you get tired, he'll be carrying you) but there's always something interesting to see on your way, whether it's a new patch of flowers you never noticed or an adorable frog hopping around the pond. But if you're up for it, he's always eager to take you flying--it's a common form of affection for dragons to fly side-by-side, it's even considered to be a sign of good luck to see a dragon couple flying together overhead. And he can reassure you that you're safe on his back, he'll even wait for a windy day so he doesn't have to flap his wings as much in case you get sick from the motion. Aside from that, his love languages are usually gifts and acts of service, so brewing your tea for you, crafting little golden gifts and trinkets, and carrying or flying you places are some of the more common ways he shows affection. And kisses, of course! Lots of big, sloppy dragon kisses <3

#draconic dean #draconic dean x reader #lysandre drakon #lysandre x reader #monster boyfriend #neutral pov #dragon boyfriend #monster campus #ellie writes #wildaces #anons

[theragnarokd]

[i deny anything to do with this. dirk writing fanfiction, modern no sburb au, rated T so far, lots of self loathing and judginess]

It was the end of the evening shift. He did a lot of closing nowadays, night blurring into dawn: there wasn’t anyone to drag him out. Not anymore. On the counter, there was a finished drink, the customer’s name written on it in sharpie. His coworker must have ducked out just before calling out their name. He picks it up. It’s not until he calls out the name that it registers: “Enkidu!” From the back of the coffee shop, a familiar figure approaches, and Gilgamesh’s heart clenched. For a desperate moment, he dared to hope.

Dirk exhales, rereading the paragraphs for typos. Then he saves it into the folder titled Oubliette, and opens a different text file. His SBaHJ reverse-mpreg vore isn’t going to write itself, and Dirk can’t disappoint his readership.

Even as the thought forms, his inbox dings. His heart speeds up at the view of the sweetest words known to man or machine:

[AO3] Comment on SBaHJ: the Romeomance

Of course he immediately opens the notification.

centaursTesticle left the following comment:

My admiration, as always, is yours. I would be happy to read more in this GRIPPING tale

Dirk permits himself a small smile. This guy has been commenting on Dirk’s fics, first in a binge and now on every new installment he updated. Dirk mentally fist-bumps him before opening his WIP folder, where the relevant fic document lives. It’s a good day.

It is not a good night.

Dirk should go the fuck to sleep. Or at least to shower. He washed the dishes earlier and his shirt has more unmentionable fluids on it than his latest fic update, which is saying something.

Instead, he goes to Romeomance’s page and hits refresh.

Not even a tick on the visit count.

This is stupid. Dirk is being a useless idiot. If people can’t appreciate his subtle satire and how it corresponds with the tone of the original comics and movies, that’s on them, and not on him.

There’s a newer fanfic than his with twice the hitcount, not even looking at kudos.

Well, so what? People like what they like. As long as Dirk is happy with the stuff he writes – and while he’s always aware of places he could improve, he rather is happy with it – what does it matter what response some other person’s fic gets?

The title is a lower-case quote from a song that was in the top 40s ten years ago. The tags include Enemies to Lovers, Only One Bed, and Slow Burn. (The fic isn’t even 10K, and it’s marked as complete, so Dirk is a teensy bit skeptical of how slow that burn is.)

Dirk clicks in. Maybe he can learn a thing or two.

The first two paragraphs make a fairly clever allusion to the famous stairs monologue. It’s a surprisingly fresh outlook on a piece of canon that’s been worn to palimpsest and back by fanon. It could be a good fic. Dirk might enjoy it. Better, Dirk might learn how to write something that isn’t worthless drivel–

He closes the tab.

This would be an excellent time to go shower.

He opens the tab again. He reads through the story grimly, marking how the dialogue sounds lively and not like two finger puppets squeaking at one another. Yes, okay, it’s a stylistic choice for Dirk. That, and he can’t fucking write dialogue to save his life.

By the time Dirk reaches the author’s notes at the end, the only argument he can make against deleting all his own fic is that it can serve as a cautionary tale.

The end notes thank two beta readers. Dirk runs his fics past Roxy when he can swing it, but for the most part, he hasn’t managed to attract a beta reader in years. Maybe that’s why everything he writes gargles balls.

There’s also a link to the author’s entry in the Every Little Bid Helps fanfic auction. Dirk clicks on the link mostly out of self preservation: if he rereads this fic, he really will orphan his account. That would be sad for that centaursTesticle guy, wouldn’t it? Think of the testicles. The centaur ones.

#my fic #dirk strider #whomstve

[smbyt]

TF141 + König x GN!Reader who started the flame in the middle of the night and still be cheeky about it the following day. (P1)

(Vietnamese version here, English isn't my first language so I hope you guys could read this easily)

Including: Ghost, Gaz (in P1), Soap, König (in P2) Price (in P3 cause I wrote a lot for him @@)

Warning: swearing, a little suggestive (of course SFW, just flirting), mention about König smokes

Reader is their teammate (and secret lover, but reader is new to König), no pronoun or sign name, just some nickname like kid, princess (just for teasing, not related to reader's gender), rookie,...

This post (https://www.facebook.com/photo?fbid=251581517229194&set=a.603460821183422) inspired me so… here we are =)))))) 

Translated: A had done some stupid things that B had to wake up and extinguish the fire. However, the next day, A still winked cheekily at B and went: “Such a hot night, right?” (I do not sure that "hot" in English means the same with "spicy" or "sexy" but... I still write these things...)

____________________________________________________

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

Will be extremely angry and ask (bark) why you made the fire.

Grabs your waist tight and is ready to crush you if you don't answer honestly and "sounds right" about what you did.

“Such a hot night, isn’t it?” 

Now, you’re fucked up.

Ghost, of course, before punishing you with cleaning the toilet, will suggest burning something else that sounds "smarter" than the one you burned (to insult your stupidity, obviously). Even if you are his love for a thousand years, he still punishes you.

But if the two of you have xxx together, prepare, soldier, the next night Ghost will make you too exhausted to the point that you can not lift even a finger to burn anything else.

If you cry after being punished? 

“Now which is hotter? The fire you burned last night or your tears now?"

After the helicopter landed, you and the members of 141 all tiredly went to their rooms. Everyone was exhausted from the mission they had so the softy bed was the only thing in their minds. But somehow, you still had enough energy to bring a bunch of stuff to Ghost's room.

"What?"

He frowned at you, now without the mask making it easier to see how annoying he was.

“Can I sleep over? Will be good, won't disturb you"

You grinned and showed Ghost some of the sundries you picked up while on a mission. These are a lighter, a butterfly knife, electrical cords, a weird mp3, and other things that you will always pick up and take home whenever you see them.

Ghost rolled his eyes wearily, but still opened the door for you to enter.

You sit on the bed as comfortably as you are in your room, continuing to grin at Ghost while he uncomfortably took a look at his broken weapons. Speaking of, not everyone Ghost would allow to do that, because if it was anyone else, this guy would have kicked their ass out of the base since they knocked on the door. But you are different, a fool who dared to cut open his frozen heart to sneak in. And he could not refuse any request of the person in his heart.

You just sit and played with your stuff until Ghost has finished checking the weapons, and as promised, you just sit alone and didn't make any noise. Ghost went to take a shower, then tiredly laid down on the bed, right next to where you were playing. His big body wouldn't normally fit on the bed, now you took up a large space, so Ghost had to shrink even more, which was more uncomfortable.

"Don't break anything, you hear me?"

“Promise”

Ghost muttered exasperatedly before wrapping his arms around your waist and starting to drift off to sleep. The mission earlier had drained his strength, causing a man who had never known fatigue to surrender. Moreover, you were sitting beside him, your scent made him feel so comfortable that he just wanted to enjoy the night and didn't want to do anything else. It had been a long time since Ghost had formed this habit, every time he hugged you, Ghost just wanted to sleep and immerse himself in the presence of his lover, because only you can make him feel peaceful and relaxed.

Tonight, Ghost didn't dream. Dreams only existed when he did not do his best and not be exhausted. Ghost loved the darkness that surrounded him, the darkness that had been with him since he was young. Perhaps, if you were the person Ghost loved, the darkness was his soulmate.

"Fucking hell..."

The murky darkness suddenly had your voice, the voice panicking like the screams that Ghost often heard.

"My god!!!"

Ghost woke up from his sleep, and the first thing he saw was the bright light of the fire on the mattress, and you were trying to put out the fire with his bulletproof vest.

“What the fuck!?”

Ghost quickly jumped out of bed, opened the door to run to a fire extinguisher in the hallway, then brought it into the room, opened the valve and sprayed hard on the fire to put it out.

“You were not allowed to break so you burned!?”

"Sorry!!!"

You whispered a scream, and the chaos got the attention of the people in the nearby rooms. They ran out to see where the noise was coming from and discovered that it was from Ghost's room. You panicked, you couldn't let them know you were here, otherwise, your secret relationship will be discovered.

“Bye Simon, have a nice night”

You tapped Ghost trying to put out the remaining fire in the bed on the shoulder, and by the time people didn't notice, you blended into the crowd and pretended you'd just arrived.

"Ghost, what happened?"

“A mouse burned my bed”

…

The next morning, you were on your way to see Captain Price to report on what you had done for the mission yesterday when suddenly you saw Ghost walking in your direction. Your big boy must have had to deal with a lot of strange questions from teammates and Captain Price last night about the burnt bed.

You smiled, raised your hand to greet Ghost.

“Good morning” you winked, suddenly wanting to tease. "Such a hot night, wasn't it, Lieutenant?"

After your saying, Ghost suddenly grabbed your hand and pushed you against the wall, his intimidating shape enveloped you. He leaned over in frustration, his hand gripping your wrist tightening even more.

"Fucking hell, why did you burn the bed last night?"

“I didn't”

You pretended to be innocent, blinking at Ghost - the man who was ready to tear you in half like the way he had killed countless enemies on the battlefield. But Simon can't bear to do that to you, he could only vent his anger by barking you in the face.

“You didn't!? Listen, soldier, I don't have time to joke around. Do you know how hard I have to explain to Price? You're getting me in trouble."

Ghost grabbed your chin, forcing you to look him directly in the eye. The eyes were now burning like the flames in his bed last night.

“Say, why did the mattress burn last night?"

This time you didn't tease Ghost anymore, hesitantly answering: "Because I was curious..."

"Curious so you burned the mattress? Do you want to go scrubbing the toilet to get more curious about it?"

“I was just studying!”

"Study what!?"

Ghost angrily pulled your waist against him, crushing your waist with the squeeze of those strong hands.

You whispered: “Learn about something that can catch fire… like does steel burn…”

You felt the hand gripping your waist get stronger, maybe in a few minutes, your waist would be split in two if this continued.

“Then why…”

Then you heard the growl of Ghost, through the mask, you still knew he was grinding his teeth.

“…not the bed feet?”

“Pardon?” you were dumbfounded, trying to process his question. 

“SO WHY DON’T YOU BURN THE BED FEET? YOU FUCKING BURNED YOUR MATTRESS BECAUSE OF THAT STUPID STUDY!?” 

Ghost barked at you, fortunately, the mask has stopped the saliva splashing out from his mouth. It was clear that he had put all his energy into that sentence by the way your eardrums still vibrated a few seconds later.

You grinned happily, and stars started to shine in your eyes: “Because now I could know that mattress isn’t made of steel”

“You fucking know what?” now it’s his turn to be dumbfounded.

_____________________________________________________

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

Gaz will laugh if you do that, laughing awkwardly and telling you to keep your mouth shut.

However, he will also have a headache about your stupid games.

Might hug you if you keep teasing him

Maybe lift you up to the table, and he will stand between your legs to retaliate.

“Such a hot night, so do you want a hot morning too?”

"Come on mate, I am not afraid of being caught while eating you out."

But surely he will be punished with you for your stupid games without any complaint.

However, you still have to have something to repay his patience. For example, another hot night, but figuratively not literally =)))))))))))

You and Gaz had been dating for months and he always pampered his lover too much. So tonight you wanted to sleep in Gaz's room and of course, this guy was extremely welcoming to you.

“Wanna sleep together?”

Gaz gently asked you, then comfortably took off his hoodie and prepared to go to sleep. You looked up at his thick muscles, shiny and juicy, making you forget the current question.

Gaz could feel your stare at him as if you wanted to eat him out, and that made him chuckle. No matter how many times you had seen his body, you still couldn't help but admire the juicy and thick body of the special force guy. Gaz flexed his muscles to tease you, and you two continued to laugh.

"Is it juicy?"

“Fucking thick, lemme bite it”

"No, need to sleep"

Gaz rubbed your head, leaving you alone on the floor, he tried to dodge your things on the ground to get on the bed, then lay down and fell asleep immediately.

Poor this young man, it must have been his recent duties that had exhausted him. He slept like the dead, nothing can disturb his sleep now. Only the sound of pouring water, the sound of tearing fabric, and the sound of bottles crashing together pulled him out of his dream. But he still didn't wake up, continued to cover his ears and fell asleep again.

After a while, Gaz suddenly smelled something pungent from where you were sitting. It smelled like gasoline or tar, but how do you steal those things from the storage? Didn't Price already forbid the two of you to come near it without permission?

"What's the smell?"

Gaz reached out to scratch his bare back, dreamily asking you to make sure you were okay. But he only received a simple answer from you: "Nothing, sleep well baby."

"Alright…"

Gaz trusted you and then continued to find the promised land in his dream. The two of you had fought too long together that Gaz was always willing to put his life on the line to trust you, and now he did too, trusting your negligent reassurance without even knowing something terrible was about to happen.

And then… something shattered!

After the crack of a glass bottle, flames engulfed the room. The heat and your screams made Gaz jump.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?”

“IT’S JUST AN ACCIDENCE!”

You tried to open the valve of the fire extinguisher, pointing at the pile of broken bottles on the floor. Gaz opened his eyes, fuck, did you just make Molotov in the room?

It was a weapon with a simple structure but easy to make, also known as the Molotov bomb, and the materials to make them were nothing more than a glass bottle, gasoline and a cloth for the wick to burn. Gaz quickly helped you with another fire extinguisher he found in the hallway, and you two used all your energy to put out the blazing fire.

"STOP BEING STUPID, OK!!!? DID YOU HURT??”

"NO! BUT I'M NOT STUPID!!? ACCIDENTLY DROPPED IT!!!”

“NOT STUPID YOU SAY!???”

The noise of you two made people in other rooms run over to see, as soon as they arrived, both of you had put out the fire, and stood panting as if you were about to die. Soap went into the room first, grinning: “What are you two playing? Seems so fun. Why don't ya invite me?"

“Inviting you to burn my whole room?”

Gaz snorted, then suppressed his laughter and went to put away the fire extinguisher. He knew they were both fucked up for sure, you two would be scolded by Captain Price anyway. And as expected, Price arrived right after Gaz returned to the room.

"What's wrong with you two?" Price asked annoyingly, crossing his arms and looking at the mess you had made. Seeing that he was still properly dressed, he must have not slept until now, he must have been doing a report when he heard the noise and ran out immediately.

"Sir, I did some stupid things"

You stood up to report, then pointed at the bottles on the floor: “I was going to try to make Molotov cocktails, but I accidentally dropped them.”

“Did you hurt?”

“No, but Gaz lost his shirt.”

Gaz tried not to laugh, looked at you and tried to check to make sure you didn't have any wounds on your body. It is true that except for the dark spots on your pants, you have nothing hurt.

Price sighed at your annoyance, then carried both of you up to his office room so that he could clarify the matter.

…

The next morning, you and Gaz had to clean the toilet because of yesterday's incident, after cleaning the last toilet, you went out and winked at Gaz: "What a hot night, right, Gaz?"

He was cleaning the sinks and suddenly sighed, giving you a helpless smile.

"Shut up..."

"Come on mate, you were as hot as I was last night"

Gaz couldn't help but smile, throwing the washcloth at you. You jumped to the side to dodge, then waved the toilet brush as if it were a stylish handbag.

"What? You like it too! I have never had such a hot and passionate night like that, just only with you.”

"Oh please shut up!"

Gaz laughed and hugged you, then lifted you up and swayed like you were a doll, he couldn't stand the teasing. You two stood laughing for a while, then Gaz let you down, "accidentally" patted your butt.

"Don't do that next time, it's not safe at all"

“I solemnly promise not to burn down your room again next time.”

Gaz grinned, choosing to trust you again, his smile was so bright that you forgot you were standing in the toilet, not in a shining castle and Gaz was the handsome prince you'd been looking for. Gaz was exhausted with your game, turned around to pick up the washcloth to continue cleaning, but you slapped his ass: "Next time I'll burn your clothes"

And then, unexpectedly, Gaz stood up and lifted you to sit on the washstand, squeezing your thighs and pulling you close to his body.

“Say again, I'll give you an equally hot morning,” Gaz's voice was strangely hoarse by now, the hand on your thighs getting tighter and tighter.

He leaned over and whispered in your ear: "I don't mind letting people know that I'm devouring you at this moment."

And he actually didn't =))))))))))) break a leg!

#call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty headcanons #simon ghost riley #modern warfare 2 #mw2 #captain john price x reader #captain price #captain john price #john price x reader #john price #konig x reader #call of duty konig #könig x reader #könig mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #gaz x you #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap x reader #vietnamese fiction

[feralkwe]

thinky thoughts

i was driving home with a friend yesterday, a friend i've had almost 20 years now, who was my very first internet friend in the early aughts when feminist blogging was in its heyday and who has become an irl friend now that i've moved to the mainland. she has functioned as a big sister in my life all this time. i love her to pieces, and my life has significantly improved with her in it.

we were talking about how weird it is to think the age our children were when we met, and the ways their lives and our lives have changed over the course of our friendship. we both started out single mothers stuck in poverty, and had our respective journeys out of those circumstances during which we've been supportive to one another, helping each other out when we had the means to do so. we've veered in and out of connected interests. i'm a gamer, she's never been into games and more often than not has no idea what i'm talking about. i have no grasp of interior design or fashion, and she has a knack for these things. but we take interest enough to appreciate what these things mean to each other. we've had disagreements and even fights over the years, but at the end of it we found the relationship to be worth the work you put in to maintaining it.

i met my best friends over fifteen years ago through fandom. we formed a fast kinship out of what we joke to be our objectively correct fandom opinions, mostly about the same character from that fandom. over the course of time we've wandered out of overlapping fandoms, supporting one another in our interests even though we didn't share them. i've read some of their fic in those fandoms. i've reblogged art of characters i know nothing about. we find dumb ways to show our interest in their interest. we found the connections beneath the fandoms, the human bonds, and built something enduring and beautiful that i can honestly say i could not be the person i am today without. even when we eventually fell into the same fandom again, we wound up engaging with it in very different ways. but we support each other, gently rib one another over "being wrong" and realize that at the end of the day, those things are ephemeral. our friendship endures.

i met my spouse almost 20 years ago, about the same time i met my big sister. we met through a job, both having come from backgrounds of poverty. we both enjoyed gaming (he started me on my first mmo), but quickly discovered we like very different games, but even when we play the same games we engage with them in very different ways. we share almost no other interests. he likes action movies, i like dumb comedies. he listens to goth and rockabilly, and i'm a classic rock and pop princess. he's read about a third of one of three of my original novels, one of my published shorts stories (he helped me work out the science i used) and (thank fuck) none of my fanfiction. but he shares my work with others, listens to me natter on about games he doesn't play, and we even will watch movies together because we enjoy time together, and i like to bite him at random intervals to keep it real and go with him to look at parts for his bike.

my point (i actually have one) is that in order to build long-term relationships you have to find the connections beyond the fleeting. you remember that your big sis loves pink lipstick so you send her a trinket bowl shaped like pink lips, or that 'none pizza with left beef' makes your spouse lose it until they cry laughing. that one of your besties has a laugh that carries over even your own loud one making music of the two of you, and the other will chase canada gooses with abandon until you fall in the grass in delight. you smile when they talk about their favorite actual play podcast and squeal over their tattoo that is inspired by an anime you've never seen. you bring up old shit to drag them and never let them live down the goofs that made you all laugh until you cried. you send them dumb cards or plants when their life is hard and you can't be there to make them soup when they're sick. you do these things because you love them. you love them for all the bits and pieces that comprise their whole even when those things don't align with your own. you might find the initial connection in the shared interests, but you build bonds separate from those through the commonality of your humanity.

relationships, platonic, not, and familial, take work. you have to put in effort. you don't have to like the same things, but you do have to have room to allow those varied and separate interests to shine in who they are. you take delight in their joy and share comfort in their sorrow. you talk to them. you reach out to them. you show that they matter to you more than your differences. that's love. that's something that endures.

#b does life #idk i've had a lot of feelings for awhile and i needed to let it out