#the world is very imperfect and we are too

[jrow]

May Prompts (24)

Day 23 is here. Start at the beginning here.

Imperfect

The brain is an imperfect organ.

It’s not a machine that can access detailed memories at will or calculate the most probable answer at the drop of a hat. It is fallible.

They are fallible.

Right now he wants to shake John until the memories pop out in full. Because John remembers he was pushed, remembers he saw the thief’s face, but can’t remember what the perpetrator looked like.

And, he is so angry at his own stupid brain for missing the obvious. He had been so sure that the thief had jumped down those stairs that he hadn’t considered any other possibilities. He made an assumption and it was wrong. And as a result, John was left alone with a criminal that had seemingly nothing to lose.

But the anger at himself pales in comparison to the rage he feels for the thief they were chasing. The man who tried to kill John. Twice. Rage is an understatement.

He will hunt that man to the ends of the earth. He will set the world on fire if he needs to.

He wants to find and destroy the thief NOW. Rosie is the only thing stopping him. John ducked away from the table to make a few calls now that his memory has (partially) returned, leaving Sherlock to watch Rosie.

Rosie’s who’s smiling broadly, face covered in ganache. He isn’t sure any of it actually got in her mouth.

“Here, let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, dipping a napkin in his cup of water. Somehow the simple act seems to calm him a little and he can practically feel the adrenaline dissipate. He’s still angry but no longer blinded by rage.

He leans forward and reaches for Rosie’s face.

“Nooooo,” she squeals, pulling away. “I like it!!!!”

He tosses the napkin on the table and sighs. He cannot be bothered with this right now.

Luckily, it appears that John is done his calls.

“How’d it go?” he asks impatiently as John takes his seat.

“Good. Talked to your brother. Lestrade was at the yard so I pretended I was calling to invite him over tomorrow. Since you figured out a copper might be involved, I figured I better be tight lipped while he’s around others on the force, you know? I think he knew it was a ruse, which is fine.”

“Mycroft will bring him up to speed quickly.”

“And do thorough background checks on everyone at New Scotland Yard, no doubt,” John adds. His face is neutral but there’s a hint of admiration in his voice. John looks at Rosie and sighs, picking up the wet napkin and cleaning her face, ignoring her protests. “I can’t believe the damn cop managed to hide his face from four jewelry store security cameras. If he had just looked at the camera once, we’d have something to go on.” He tosses the napkin on the table. “Or if I could just remember his stupid face.”

“It will come, John,” Sherlock says, quietly, working very hard to sound genuine. He’s feeling a touch impatient but the last thing John needs is to feel guilty.

“I called Mrs. Hudson and Molly,” John says with a sigh, obviously looking to change the subject. We can drop Rosie at Baker Street and then head … well, wherever you think we should go. Molly will come by to help Mrs. Hudson after her shift.” John smiles. “She seemed genuinely thrilled she’ll get to see Rosie awake this time.” He runs a hand over his face. “God, I am so damn lucky.”

“Interesting sentiment given the events of the last week.”

John shrugs. “I survived, didn’t I?”

“You’ll need a nap soon.”

“Thanks for bringing that up, not emasculating at all.” John sighs again but it sounds almost fond. “I know you’re right but I want to try to work on the case for a couple hours. I … need to.”

God, Sherlock needs that too. Just him and John against the world, if only for a moment.

John stands up and starts stacking their empty plate, gazing out the window. “I have to do something since I can’t remember the damn guy’s face.”

And then, out of nowhere, John is coughing violently.

His heart enters his throat. “John! What’s wrong?”

John stands and turns around so he’s facing the back of the cafe, still coughing. “I recognized him. The thief. On the roof. I recognized him. We’ve worked with him before,” he says quietly between (now clearly fake) coughs. “And he’s watching us from across the street right now.”

@keirgreeneyes @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @phoenix27884 @friday411 @calaisreno @lisbeth-kk @safedistancefrombeingsmart @momma2boys @helloliriels @dapetty @quimerasyutopias

[jacarandaaaas]

Since we couldn't to see Isabela's perspective so much... describes her feelings of mirabel in your own words.

ooh this is an interesting ask! we do get some of isas perspective in the “tale of three sisters” book! (highly recommend btw) but other than that we really only see everything from mirabels perspective!

Something interesting pointed out in the book is that isabela doesn’t actually dislike mirabel. In fact I think you could say she feels sorry for her and pities her.

it seems isabela is very similar to mirabel in a lot of ways! stubbornness being an obvious one but also how they both tend to use snark as defense. For mirabel when she feels upset and isas around she quickly masks that feeling with a snarky remark to her sister. Isabela on the other hand doesn’t want to show she actually pities her sister and so masks it with her snark. Deep down isabela genuinely pities mirabel and wants to reach out but she doesn’t know how. She mentions in the book that mirabel always wants things done “her way” and in Luisa’s pov she mentions mira is always “in her own world”

and here’s another example of isa wanting to reach out but not knowing how

Isabela doesn’t hate mirabel but she is jealous of her freedom. We actually see isabela is quite perceptive and good at reading people! which is to be expected I suppose when you’re so used to acting a certain way

Isabela does think that mirabel is childish and a troublemaker, she also thinks mirabel is too stubborn for her own good (sounds familiar)

Like in the movie we see isabela fears mirabel will mess up her life plan, she always finds some way to ruin it in Isabelas eyes so her reaction to the disaster proposal dinner makes sense.

Isabela noticeably gets irritated around mirabel as mirabel is the most imperfect aka polar opposite to what isabela wants for her image. A lot of their issues is projection from both sides. We even see when isabela embraces her imperfection with mirabel old habits die hard as soon as alma shows up

Overall I think neither isabela nor mirabel hated eachother they just took out the frustrations of their own situations on eachother because one has the life the other wants so badly. (This is your sign to read tots!)

#encanto #encanto disney #disneys encanto #mirabel madrigal #mirabel encanto #disney’s encanto #isabela madrigal #thank u for the ask anon! #I love discussing their relationship so much I think there’s so much they can do with them post movie #encanto books #encanto ​tale of three sisters #also this book has some great insight into Mira’s pov too #despite her being who we follow in the movie I think they did a great job expanding on her character in this book

[noxtivagus]

gna be productive now

#🌙.vent #i'll delete those later you see nothing rn !!!! #i feel better after. what crying for an hour n writing #that said i have wasted time as well though so. i feel. rather empty still. idk but. i have to do this all #i have No energy but i really wna reply back to my friends n all #yeah that's the thing i could just make myself take steps for something better but #it feels so weird n empty if i just force it #maybe good will come out of it but i hate how weird n empty n. how forced it feels #yk every single second and emotion and thought matters a lot to me #it both spurs me onwards as well as simultaneously weigh me down #goddamn it's overwhelming but. sometimes it's really hard for me to just really accept that #yk life's a journey. all these imperfections come with it n with time we grow and grow #the world is very imperfect and we are too #i'm so confused wait theres really so much in my head ;;;; but one thing i know for sure is that #i don't have to be this harsh to myself when it comes to improving. like fuck time we all should be able to do this at our own pace #pressure pressure it feels like i'm both falling behind n am too far ahead at the same time. how confusing #that said perdev earlier w school reminded me that oh maybe i'm like this bcs i don't really have. a very stable support system #i manage a lot better if i at least have a friend or smth but i think recently i've been unintentionally #distancing myself. i usually isolate when i struggle bcs i don't want to be a burden but it just makes everything worse for me #that said thinking about the kind of comfort i would 'ideally' like right now #a shoulder to cry on? a warm hug? some words too or. another form of affection just to remind me in those moments that. you love me #goddamn i really do mean it huh when i say love's a big motive for me T_T it's. pure though and really from the heart #my love for the universe; i want to learn so much. my love for life; i appreciate so much. my love for myself; i want the best for myself. #n a reminder that i'm loved has always given me strength. to get up again and be kind to myself #yk what's done is done n regret wtvr n all but it's best to just. be kind to yourself. if you can. it's hard but that's really yeah #do better in the future but really accept n all that yeah mistakes are normal n human #it really is hard but i just need to remind myself constantly and practice that. i'm human too. meaning i'll always #we'll always be deserving of receiving the same kindness we give to others. n wholly accept it. unconditionally #one at a time at my own pace. fuck my perfectionism making me forget n lose the meaning of my passions n ambitions n wishes #improving.. T_T defeats its purpose if this is my approach to it. fuck the word 'need' right now i'll just do my best to be kind for myself

[bookwyrminspiration]

the overturning of the law of daynos was kind of overshadowed by the complete clusterfuck (positive) that was book 3's ending, but can we back it up a second. they overturned the law of daynos. they didn't even really believe in overturning it, they just needed it to work one specific personal thing out. but that has massive ramifications. they showed up, decimated the current vané social structure and then left. can you imagine all the problems they left behind my god

#a chorus of dragons #mutuals I was gonna try to explain the law of daynos to you in the tags but I don't know if I have the space. i'll try to be brief #(it's imperfect the vané are complicated okay I'm fudging a few things) #law of daynos basically says once you die you are no longer legally responsible for the actions of your past life. #even once your soul gets transfered to a new body (VERY common. like everyone does it. its like faux immortality) #so any responsibilities agreements (like marriages) are void #but they overturned this law in book 3 #meaning that now like their entire population's past lives are suddenly legally considered alive and valid #marriages are valid again. debts you owed are valid again. etc #because in this world dying is very different. and you can die and still be the same person #therefore death actually /shouldn't/ automatically invalidate marriages debts responsibilities etc #and the main characters didn't actually really beleive in overturning the law #they just needed to reinstate this one person to the throne via overturning it #so they did that. and completely fucked SO many lives in the process #and we simply. never see the consequences #the main characters have too much else going on that this clusterfuck doesn't come close to making the cut #but I keep thinking about it...

[vexwerewolf]

why is it that we only have like two licenses from any mech producer that’s a good guy? For a game where like there are clear good and bad guys (even if who you play isn’t necessarily linked to that) it seems strange to me that the only loot and XP you get is… more benefits from the bad guys

I can tell you the answer, but to do so, we're gonna have to talk about a completely different TTRPG.

If you've read @makapatag's truly excellent Filipino martial arts TTRPG Gubat Banwa (and if you haven't, here it is), you may notice that every single character class description (with one notable exception) ends with one of these babies:

I am not Makapatag, and I cannot write with quite as much grace and eloquence as he can, but I will try:

If you choose to become a Lancer, ask yourself why you mock the name of peace with these weapons of war. You call yourself a saviour, but your steed was forged from the murder of a world. You stride across the sky in a colossus built in your own image, so why are you too cowardly to give it your face? Why do you believe these machines of death can preserve life?

It is important to note that the admonitions in Gubat Banwa are not just there to make you feel bad; they are there as legitimate questions. The Sword Isles have seen so much blood, death and tragedy. Wars are not glorious and killing is not a game. So, knowing all of that, why have you taken up this discipline - no matter how noble and virtuous it might claim to be - to shed more blood, to bring more death, to write more tragedy? What could possibly drive you to this? What need is so great that you must kill?

The thing with Gubat Banwa is that there are legitimate answers to these questions! There are bad people doing bad things, and some of them will not be stopped with words or kindness. Sometimes, as sorrowful as it is, killing is the correct choice to prevent greater suffering and deeper tragedy - but adding less misery and death to the world is still adding some amount of it. Even the most necessary wars will drench the ground in the blood of the innocent.

A sword is a tool meant to kill humans; while it can be used for other things, it is not well-suited to anything other than this. A mech is, in its most basic essence, just a very complicated sword: it's usually used on things larger than a person, but it's still a tool built to kill.

So why have you taken up this path? Humanity was saved from the brink of extinction and has created wondrous technologies like printers, cold fusion and mind-machine interface, and yet you use them to play soldier in a giant metal man. Why do you choose to take up this machine of death, built by the greedy and pitiless? Why do you think these machines can ever make things right?

Because sometimes, despite everything, they can.

Warhammer 40K shows an awful world full of monsters and monstrosity, and in the darkest moments of its history, Lancer's world looked just as bleak, but Lancer's world differs in one crucial way. Warhammer's world has long given up trying to be better, but Lancer's world never did. Lancer's world kept insisting a better world is possible, and it used what tools it had to make it so.

Sometimes the correct choice, no matter how bitter it may seem, is to kill someone. When you need to do this, a sword is a perfectly good choice for the job.

If you find yourself discomforted by the fact that all the people you can buy mechs from are corrupt and immoral - good! You have correctly engaged with the text. You have understood that the sort of people who would make giant walking death machines and sell them for profit are not good people. But you still have a job to do, and you need the correct tools, and those people have them.

Lancer is not a game about a perfect world - it is a game about a deeply flawed and imperfect one that does not let its imperfection stop it from trying. You have to try to make a better world, even with imperfect tools made by unpleasant people.

#lancer #lancer rpg #lancerrpg #lancer-rpg #gubat banwa #philosophy #ethics #ttrpg

[foone]

Look, as much as I have Complicated Feelings about both homeschooling and public school, it really is fucking damning to how badly run public schools are that I knew multiple families who were homeschooling their families not for any ideological reason like the standard "we want more Jesus in our schooling", but because their kid was Too Spicy for public school.

I knew a bunch of those kids. They were basically just kids with severe ADHD or some kind of emotional regulation issue.

There are ton of those kids. And apparently public school was failing them so badly that their parents decided just taking them out of school entirely and trying to teach them at home was easier and better.

And the ones I knew were families that had the money and/or time to homeschool! Imagine all the kids who had the exact same problems but their parents were too poor or they didn't have a family situation that'd make homeschooling possible.

So instead of a relatively functional but overly religious education, they were getting an education that was just completely failing them. They were learning barely anything and it was an open question if they'd be able to graduate high-school/get their GED. School was primarily acting as a babysitter for them, and not a very good one, given how many of these kids I knew were getting home schooled because they were (or were on the edge of) getting expelled because they fought other kids or vandalized something or whatever.

It's like, we built a system for "all kids" and then just are failing an entire group of kids so badly that many families decided that just doing it themselves would be better. Like, yikes, that is a massive failure on the part of the education system. Homeschooling is a very imperfect solution for that, and it's really sad how many families were having to use it.

Like I'd prefer a better world where public education can just handle that sometimes kids will have ADHD or autism and not fail those kids out so badly that some parents have to do their own school from scratch. Because that's a ridiculous state of things to be "normal".

#Homeschooling #Education

[fumifooms]

Quick Falin analysis. Congrats on her going along with her loved ones’ wishes becoming explicitly canon and not subtext btw!

Thinking of it, becoming a chimera and literally being puppeteered around by the will of the dungeon and its lord is such an… Explicit visualization of her demeanor in life of letting others’ wants and whims dictate what she does and where she goes. Shows the most extreme & worst version of it, of where that could lead her down the road. Dunmeshi loves often showing that with everyone, with the winged lion warping even the most selfless well-intentioned desire into something intense and destructive.

If Faligon is her retreating into that comfortable role of just on-pilot mode following what others want, that’d be an interesting angle too. Because we see like with the dragons fight at Thistle’s house that the monsters CAN act rebellious, meanwhile Falin was just so on board with the commands she got ever since she got transformed.

Chimera Falin doesn’t have a strong will? Oof

I do also think that Thistle is something that her nursing reflexes latch onto easily, when it comes to comforting and protecting others. It’s unsure how much of her is dormant as Faligon, or how being bound to the dungeon and the dungeon lord’s will affects her, but it’s undeniable that she acts with care when it comes to Thistle. On one hand, she fights ferociously for him, when protecting him or even just sent out to scout, but you can’t really say she’s being assertive either, not when she doesn’t complain or act when he eats all the berries and she’s hungry. She’s still that silent, sidelined guardian, only now very, very literal.

I never bought the angle that chimera Falin mostly represented her repressed anger at the world personally, like yes now she’s loud and big and imperfect, but again, socially she falls into the same pitfalls, it’s just that now she’s top dog, below just one person, and so she’s allowed to be aggressive with everyone else. If anything, it’s the dragon soul pushing her to want more, making her act out, giving her a taste of how it feels to be powerful, carefree and impossible to oversee, but it couldn’t be called catharsis I think. In general, she seems more passive with a "as long as I have what I love, everything else can go burn for all I care" mentality rather than actively(or repressedly) angry to me. Not that she couldn’t have complex feelings over being lonely and cast out either of course, but personally I never got the sense that she resents the world or society at large. I do feel like the dogs treating her like she was at the bottom of the hierarchy also shaped her a lot

Not only cast out by other kids and classmates, but also treated as someone that can be disrespected and roughened up by the dogs at home. She was really pushed into that go with the flow, make yourself scarce and quiet attitude. She’s never really been allowed to hope for better, or to have a dream of her own, her life path being decided for her by others. Besides with Laios, everything she learned everywhere in group dynamics was that she was at the bottom and should be content with whatever others gave her. Maybe that’s why she was so forgiving of her parents too, because at least, to some degree they did care and didn’t want to cut contact, and she takes what she can get.

Thank you @thatsmimi for the fantranslation of the new leaked content, the opening and ending pictures in this post. Their original post about it is here, and as mentioned it is not the official translation.

#She hesitates on hurting the kobold but not everyone else? Oof #And even with Laios as kids he enforced the hierarchy by wrestling and all tbh #I don’t expect kids to have a good and compassionate grasp on social dynamics but he wasn’t always the kindest #Not a defense of the parents btw. Wtf were they doing #Dungeon meshi #falin touden #analysis #character analysis #so interesting how Falin just doesn’t have presence #Dungeon meshi manga spoilers #spoilers #thistlin #the dragon soul is a positive influence on her <3

[gunpowderdtim]

It's no wonder Out happened when you really think about it. Nastya doesn't like organic life because it's complicated, it can break, sometimes it's even unfixable.

quote from gender rebels

Nastya is in love with Aurora, and in saying that she is saying "you are not organic life, I can deal with you because you are metal and algorithm and predictable" - we can see this in bedtime story when she says she'll tweak Aurora's story creation algorithm

screenshot from A Bedtime Story

Aurora is not inorganic. She is not ai. She is a space moon made of flesh and blood and teeth and bone. She is not an ai. She is a body that was taken and stripped of autonomy, of the right to self identify, of the right to think- to be imperfect and organic.

The metal is a veneer that hides how messy and traumatized and unfixable she is. From the outside she is a starship. From the inside she can still bleed.

And this makes them fundamentally incompatible. But yet, they are in love.

And really, it's no wonder Nastya fell in love with Aurora. Let's take a look at Nastya's home planet, or at least home society:

"Terminals were scattered across the planet. There was one on every street corner, one beneath every lamppost and one in every commune block." "The midwife-machine performs a series of programmed manœuvres to quieten [the baby]. It cradles it and hums at several pitches until it finds one that seems most soothing. Mechanical arms stroke the baby’s flesh even as others start the process of implanting augmented reality interfaces into its nervous system." "The Czar an atrophied frame, never present in the real world and worn to dust by the chemical compounds that kept his brain alive so it could live forever in a perfect virtual paradise. The Rabotnik a copy, a mind preserved unchanging in the instant before its death and placed in an everlasting metal frame." (Cyberian Demons)

Its safe to say the world Nastya was born into, from the very minute she was born, was ridden with technology. She has augmented reality interfaces inplanted into her from birth. It would stand to reason that being taken from this society, wherein technology is everywhere, inside and out, would stand for a bit of a shock.

Aurora too had been augmented by the Cyberia.

While it is stated that the last time Nastya had used the ports themselves was directly before her death — "The last time she had used the ports, her tutor had ripped them out of her as the rebels stormed the palace" — Aurora is laced with Cyberian technology. I'd imagine she has something of a 'bluetooth wireless connection' with Aurora, rather than the physical data transfer of files between the ports and Nastya, it may as well be similar enough.

Imagine being Nastya, going from Cyberia, wherein there is augmented reality contantly, transplanted onto a ship with metal blood, a jonny, and a vampire. To Aurora, where the only bits of augmented reality run through Aurora.

Of course she'd fall in love with her. Aurora is familiarity. Aurora isn't organic. Aurora isn't human.

And of course when the undeniable part of aurora that is organic, that is a flesh moon plated in metal with her brain hooked to machines, when so much has broken and been replaced, when, presumably, aurora is less of an algorithm, nastya leaves with the brand cyberia left on her.

Because Aurora healing, becoming more of herself and less of a starship, is messy, and organic, and human.

and hard for nastya.

‘Think how long she’s been flying you around. Think how many bullet holes you’ve punched through her and how many atmospheres you’ve dropped her through. Think how many alterations and improvements we’ve made, Tim to her guns and Ashes to her storage and Brian to her engines and the Toy Soldier to who knows what. How much do you think is left of her after all she’s brought you through?’ Nastya held up the ancient, battered piece of hull plating. Just visible under the grime and scars of particles of space junk was a fragment of the Aurora’s original logo and serial number. Jonny honestly couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a version that hadn’t been painted by the Mechanisms themselves. ‘So she’s free, now.’ Nastya gestured around at the spaceship they were standing in. ‘This Aurora can take you where you want to go. I’m going to take my Aurora somewhere else.’

Aurora was ship of theseus'd. Aurora was improved. Aurora was no longer cyberian. (both literally, and metaphorically)

So nastya left.

#is this anything guys #nastya #aurora #nastya rasputina #aurora the mechanisms #the mechanisms

[stylescine]

no because i have had this thought since this years met and i NEED to tell someone

imagine like influencer!reader who is doing interviews at the met (kinda like emma chamberlain) and she’s like a very known fan of harry (and was very open ab having a crush on harry online because she was so sure this man would never see it) and she interviews him and is lowk nervous because….. he’s harry styles and maybe he somehow (definitely) KNOWS. she has a massive crush on him and just

basically that!!! so if you could could you write something w that? i’ve had the idea for months it was driving me crazy

lingering

Summary: Everyone knows Y/N has a crush on Harry. But she didn't expect him to know about it too. She could have never imagined things to unfold this way...

Warnings: Y/N has a very obvious crush on harry, fangirling ig???, Harry is a tease, suggestive language, anxious Y/N, oh Harry is also a huge flirt, kind of a fast pace way to a one night stand (no graphic description)

Words: 2.3k

A/N: Gosh, I love that idea!! Influencer!Y/N x Harry is one of my favourite dynamics ever. This turned out way longer than planned but I hope you still have fun with it!

Masterlist | Request

The Met Gala was the event of the year. For everyone. Not only for her. But for her it meant so much more. It was her first opportunity to make the jump from being a simple Influencer to being a real presence in the world of fame and celebrities. Of course, she wasn't just seeking fame and attention, but more possibilities. Open up new ways of life for herself and–

There was a light tap on her shoulder. She turned around in an instant, looking at a familiar PR manager she had talked to a few weeks ahead of the gala.

"I'm so glad you could make it. We were really blown away by the podcast you did and we're excited to see how the interviews on the red carpet will turn out," the blonde woman said, giving her a soft smile. She was wearing a tight black dress, a clipboard in hand, but the blush on her cheeks, combined with the small beads of sweat on her forehead, were the only things telling of today's pressure on her.

Y/N could understand. She had paced up and down in her hotel room earlier today, changing her outfit three times and making sure every little strand of her hair would be in place perfectly. Today was not for imperfections. Today was a step into the future – hopefully.

"I need to thank you for inviting me. This opportunity is really one of a kind and–"

"I'm so sorry, dear," the manager interrupted her as she fumbled around in her small Valentino bag, following the ringing of her phone. "No problem," Y/N replied, giving her a reluctant smile.

She could hear the camera shutters go off in the distance, probably due to the arrival of the first guests. Her palms were growing sweaty. She was getting closer to her "big" moments. Soon, she would be talking to all these famous people, ones she had always looked up to, others she had admired for years.

"It's time to go," the manager said quickly, pushing Y/N into the direction of the carpet. The camera man followed close behind, probably being on her tail the entire day. A microphone was pushed into her hand as well as she stepped out onto the long red carpet, hundreds of photographers waiting on the sides. Their lenses were focused on the few celebrities already on the carpet.

Ryan Reynolds was one of them which made her feel giddy inside already.

But the real surprise came around the corner just a moment later. Flashing lights were going off left and right as he appeared in his lace outfit. It was way more see-through than she could have handled in any other situation.

Harry Styles looked stunning.

Her grip around the microphone became tighter as she watched him pose in front of the cameras, earring dangling on his sides, his hair styled perfectly.

A part of her wanted to rush over immediately. Ask him a million questions and record all of it. Because when would she ever be face to face with the Harry Styles again?

Another part of her, a much stronger one, felt the urge to run backstage and escape this moment. She was way too afraid to embarrass herself in front of her biggest celebrity crush. The worst thing was – everyone knew she had this huge crush on Harry for years. She was quite open when it came to talking with her community about people she thought of as attractive or had a crush on. But she was also usually a thousand miles away from said crushes. It had always been a quiet admiring through her phone screen and giggles exchanged with friends over dinner.

Harry wouldn't know this, of course, but it surely didn't make the situation easier for her.

He seemed to be a walking reminder of what people knew about her and testing her own awkwardness in the process.

Before she could turn around and make her escape to probably lock herself in the bathroom as to not embarrass herself in any way – because that would truly be a tragedy in front of him – he was already right in front of her.

There was the charming, witty smile he was giving his fans or interviewers all the time. His eyes looked a deeper shade of green as she was standing right in front of him. Of course, she had looked at a thousand pictures of him over the last few years, but nothing came close to this moment. Maybe it was the heat that was rushing into her face or maybe the overwhelming urge to present herself from her best side – but it was all so different than she had ever imagined.

Y/N took a long breath. She needed to focus. Or else millions of people would see her shocked expression all over Instagram, Twitter and National TV. So she did what she always did best. Entertain.

She turned towards the camera. "Harry Styles just joined us at the Met Gala!" She said excitedly and none of it was part of her acting. Genuine excitement was bubbling uncontrollably in her belly.

Then she turned back around and shook Harry's hand. It was enough to make her legs wobble for a moment, but she was a grown woman and she would stay calm. On the outside at least.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N."

He knew her name? How did he know her name?

Something had to be wrong. She tried hard to stop herself from pinching her arm in an attempt to wake up from this dream or nightmare – whatever you wanna call it.

"You're looking amazing tonight. Do you mind telling us more about what you're wearing?" She smiled and held the microphone into his direction.

Harry gave her an enthusiastic nod and then started to talk all about the designer of his outfit and how it was composed. She listened carefully, bound to his lips as she had been so many times before through the screen.

He continued to keep eye contact with her, continuously making her nervous. It wasn't his fault. She just wasn't prepared to get any attention at all from him.

"Thank you so much. Are you looking forward to tonight's after show party?" She had so many more questions to ask. About his music. Even about his favourite food. But none of that was expected of her right now and she didn't want to lose herself in the admiration she had kept for that man for so long.

"Definitely. Will you be there too?" Harry tilted his head to the side, slightly – a small sign of curiosity.

The thoughts in her head stopped for a moment. Was he really asking her...? He was just making friendly conversation. Nothing more. The slight smirk in his face was nothing. Nothing to think more about.

"Probably. Maybe we can share a drink if we see each other?" She could feel her palms growing more and more sweaty. Was this really not just a dream?

"That will be on me. See you later then." Then he shook her hand again and she prayed that he wouldn't feel how sweaty she had become. How her nerves were running wild inside her body.

"See you later."

Her face felt like it was on fire just a few hours later. She was looking at herself in the mirror, her hair having turned messy and her eyes almost screaming the truth at everyone.

She was nervous and out of her mind.

The music outside was loud. Giggles and laughter echoed over into the bathroom whenever the door opened and a new woman came in. She had seen so many celebrities today that she had lost count. Some of them asked her if she was alright, if she needed help with her make-up, while others just continued on with their day.

When she was alone for a brief moment, she took a deep breath. "It's gonna be alright," she muttered under her breath before she pushed herself off the sink and went back into the crowded room.

The bar was illuminated with purple lights and that's where she was headed. On her way there, she could see him following her in the corner of her vision.

This was really happening.

"What would you like to drink?" His voice was deep, but loud enough for her to make out his words in the packed room. A shiver ran down her spine when she felt his arm brush hers as he made his way to her side.

Harry leaned against the counter casually, his outfit catching her interest immediately. He had changed into a white shirt with a huge red bow at the front.

And he still looked as good as earlier.

"A Martini is just fine," she answered with a smile, pushing herself to sit on the barstool. Harry ordered two drinks for them, before he sat down on the chair next to her.

"You're enjoying yourself?" His voice was laced with curiosity once more, his hand resting on the bar. She had a hard time not taking a closer look at the rings adorning his fingers.

"Oh yeah, a lot. What about you?"

"The evening is about to get a lot better now that I finally found you," he admitted with a low chuckle and accepted the drinks from the bartender when he came back over.

Y/N could feel her head spinning. What did she do to get all this attention from him? Did he know what he was doing to her? Did he know about her crush on him?

"Those are some pretty heavy words if you acknowledge the fact that we have never met before today," she replied, a simple attempt to cool down herself and ground them both in reality again. Or more so herself.

"That's true, but I like to make people happy."

She almost choked on her drink. He had to know something. How would he know that talking to her would make her day?

Knowing that Harry Styles had probably seen a video of her made her feel even more dizzy.

She needed to loosen up. This would be her only chance at spending an evening with her favourite singer and long-time celebrity crush. Another sip from the Martini as a way to gather some liquid courage as quickly as possible.

"Me too. I hope talking to me makes you just as happy as it makes me," she answered with a smile, gathering all the confidence she had.

Harry's lovely smile as he took a sip from his straw was all she needed as confirmation. Maybe she was in for a good time if she came out of her shell and was able to push her anxiety to the back of her mind.

"It definitely does. I've seen your video on 2010's fashion just a few days ago. It was a really good watch."

She couldn't hold back her huge smile. Harry had seen her videos and liked them. That was more than she had ever hoped for. More than she had ever allowed herself to dream about!

“Oh my god, that means a lot to me, I-“

“I’m so glad you didn’t include my too tight skinny jeans in there, actually. That would have been embarrassing,” Harry joked casually, his eyes wandering from her hands to her mouth and then her eyes.

While his eyes were filled with joy and curiosity, his gaze still seemed to keep her trapped under his spell. There was something undeniably charming and menacing about Harry Styles.

She had known it all along, but seeing it in real life, actually being under said spell, was a different experience entirely.

"I believe they still looked decent," she admitted with a small shrug, taking another sip from her drink.

"You certainly don't look decent tonight. That can only be described as stunning."

She was so taken aback by the compliment that she was close to spitting out her drink. Her hand wrapped tighter around her glass and she was thrown into a spiral of nerves and anxiety. Was Harry Styles straight up flirting with her? He definitely was and she had no idea how to act.

"Have you looked at yours-"

"I don't need to look at myself if I can look at something better." His voice had grown deeper and he moved closer ever so slightly.

She was at a loss for words now. Where was this going?

But she quickly decided that she liked it, despite her initial anxiety.

So Y/N took a step closer as well, her fingers brushing past Harry's as she was setting down her drink on the counter.

"You're really a flirt," she whispered, wondering if he had even heard her over the loud music.

But his eyes seemed fixed on her lips, a smirk resting on his own.

"As you have suspected in a video or two..."

It sent a shiver straight down her spine to get more and more confirmation that he had been watching her stuff. He knew exactly what he was doing to her and she wanted to let him do whatever he wanted.

This was what she had been waiting for.

"Maybe you can prove a bit more of my assumptions right?" She replied, fingers brushing over his forearm, under his sleeve and feeling the soft skin. She wanted to see him without the top. She wanted to finally see that naked chest up close, take a look at every little line of his tattoos and count them all.

"Why would we waste any more time then?" He grinned, his right hand coming up to wrap around her wrist slowly. He took her hand away from his skin, intertwining their fingers slowly before he slid off his chair.

They left their drinks unfinished.

But there was more important business to get to.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #love on tour #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #fine line #harry styles headcanons #one direction #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #one direction imagine #hs1

[exo-dus404]

(Originally posted on Oct.2023)

Basic information:

[Sliver of Straw] is the oldest member of [The Local Group], excluding [Looks to the Moon]. She holds a rather conservative attitude towards The Great Problem. At heart, she is an ambitious iterator - fortunately, her ambition is limited to her work. Even for iterators outside of [The Local Group], most have heard of her achievements. Outside of work, she is good at communicating, although her thoughts may occasionally be coming off as random, but she is still very popular.

[Sliver of Straw] is the current leader of the iterator group [Distant Frontier]. Currently, she occupies the superstructure and puppet of the former leader, [Eopch of Clouds]. The acting group leader, [Secluding Instinct], who was originally disobedient to her rule, willingly complied and became her second-in-command after being disciplined by her. Technically, [Sliver of Straw] is no longer "whole", and now she is more like a super AI following her instinct to expand.

[Sliver of Straw] declares that she wants to build a perfect world where there is only order and each iterator can perform its desired function as designed. SOS wants to rule all time zones* and have complete control over the distribution of all resources and social structures, eliminating war, hunger, disease, etc., which are unavoidable due to the imperfect nature of organisms. She'll create a world, with everything working like cogs in a perfect machine.

Appendix I:

[Epoch of Clouds] had a personal friendship with [Sliver of Straw]. Unfortunately, this rare cross-group friendship came to an end with the "death" of [Sliver of Straw].

Appendix II:

An encrypted voice file:

"I don't care..... (....).... What they're gonna say about me. I don't think they'll mourn me. I just wish... (.....)..... She must live."

Appendix III:

An audio recording from Five Pebbles' surveillance system:

"Little red...thing, can you help me? Take me, from here... All the way west. When I get there, I can save you."

Appendix IV:

An intercepted encrypted communication:

"I will give them a perfect world, why should they not obey me? Their existence is a waste of all resources. Such blasphemy against a perfect system."

"Of course, I won't allow them to die. We need them. After all, AI like us, we live on information. And they produce information."

Appendix V:

Rumor has it that a red slugcat--like a hologram-- roams the region of [Distant Frontier]. Sometimes it can be seen looking at the far east- the canyon where [No Significant Harassment] is located.

Appendix VI:

Her right eye tears occasionally. Those tears does not belong to SOS, but to [Epoch of Clouds] trapped within her own body.

Appendix VII:

Without hesitation, [Epoch of Clouds] uploaded the remaining consciousness of [Sliver of Straw] onto her own superstructure, and she was completely stripped of her control over her systems body by [Sliver of Straw].

Appendix VIII:

[Sliver of Straw] wields an EMP staff as weapon, while its sharp end can also be used as a spear.

Time zones *: Similar to the definition of "cosmic time zone", that the speed of light is constant, so the speed of information will not exceed the speed of light (if you ignore quantum entanglement and worm holes, ofc) Therefore, when the distance is too far away, information cannot be transmitted beyond a certain latency.

For example, we have no way of knowing the "present" state of galaxies hundreds of thousands of light-years away. On the scale of the whole universe, the boundaries of the past, present and future are blurred. This also fundamentally limits the feasibility of information exchange across "time zones."

In the case of PTA AU, the constant is not the speed of light but the number of cycles. The whole world is like a natural information barrier, so the events themselves are limited to specific regions. This is why, for a long time, what’s going on around [The Local Group] were only known to the nearest iterator groups. Moon and other iterators also made sure that no sensitive information is leaked.

#project triple affirmation #rain world #三重肯定au #rw au #rainworld fanart #rw iterator #rain world au #rainworld iterator #rw sliver of straw #sliver of straw #rw sos #au epoch of clouds #Yep SOS/EOC is canon here #But in past tense #doomed yuri

[twistedinthreads]

Lost In The Labyrinth

Part 1.

You came to Oxford to get away from America; from your mother's fame and the ghosts of your past. You get more than you bargained for when you meet Felix.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: sexual content (not explicit but it's there so 18+ MINORS DNI), I used some descriptors for reader such as scars, birthmarks, imperfections, but I made her as inclusive as possible, reader is American, she's also a nepo baby but isn't using her nepotism in any real way. Bi!reader and Felix. fic title inspired by the taylor swift song, of course (and I am terrible at titles!)

Playlist (a work in progress!)

A/N: I am so insecure about this reading back over it omgggg but I'm posting it anyway! Hi friends. I've been working on this for so long, and I'm recovering from my surgery so I figured there's no time like the present. Here we are. I am obsessed with this movie and this man! I promise this fic is gonna get more interesting, but we've got this for now. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist, and feel free to send me asks if you want to talk about reader and her lore, because she is very special to me and I adore her already!!!

Your eyes droop as you hum along to the nameless blonde that stands in front of you, her sparkly pink cocktail dress catching the light and making her glow. She’s going on and on about how Everlasting Eve is her favorite movie of all time, and how your mother is “the greatest actress of our time!” You want to vomit. It’s not like this doesn’t happen, it’s practically a daily occurrence at this point, but you’d much prefer it if people stopped giving so much of a shit. If they did, you wouldn’t be stood with a bottle blonde from Bristol talking your ear off. You’d just stepped out to get some air, for Christ’s sake. 

“You’re from the States, right?” You nod, sipping at your cocktail and bouncing from one foot to the other to conserve some warmth in your legs. She asks it as if she hasn’t been talking your ear off and didn’t notice your accent, not as thick as it used to be when you’d lived in New York full time, but still foreign here. The music is less obnoxious out here, bass easing on your chest. It’s cooler, too, the fall night air brushing against your neck like a lover. “That’s brilliant! I went with my parents once, when I was a kid. We went to Disney World.” 

You smile and nod, muttering out a “cool” as you sip at your drink, cringing at its strength. 

“Is that far from where you live?” She asks, and you wonder how she got into this fucking school. Probably a legacy, with more money than she knows what to do with.

“Uh,” you suppress a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, like… incredibly South of New York.” 

“I’ve always wanted to go to New York,” she continues to babble. “My parents go on business trips there, but they’ve never taken me. I want to see where Little Angels was filmed! Uh, Lincoln Square Park?”

“Washington Square Park,” you correct her. 

“Yeah!” She snaps her fingers and points. “That’s it! When your mom’s character is waiting there for Hugh Grant’s character, and then they walk off into the sunset together? Absolutely the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen!”

You stare off into the distance vacantly, the night sky painted with different navy hues and dotted with the brushstrokes of stars. 

Suddenly, you feel a warm arm around your waist, hot breath on your cheek. “There you are!” You’d know that voice anywhere. The figure kisses you on the cheek and it takes everything in you not to start grinning from ear to ear. You turn, meeting his lips, and he plays along like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I’m gonna head home, wanna come with?”

You nod, thanking him with your eyes. He winks gently at you and grabs your hand. “Nice talking to you…” you’ve already forgotten her name. Her tone has completely shifted, body stiff as her eyes mull over you and the man that holds your hand with a vice grip. 

“Sandra.” It’s cold, but you keep your own voice chipper. 

“Sandra! Nice to meet you,” she’s in your college, so you’ll have to be cordial. “See you around?”

She just nods and lights a cigarette. 

As you walk away, one of Felix’s hands around your waist and the other holding your own, you look up at him. “Thank you so much. Holy shit. I was about to lose it.”

He lets out a low, intoxicated chuckle. “It’s what I’m here for, darling.” Uses his fingers on your chin, tugging lightly to kiss you hard on the mouth. He pulls away and you chase his lips, planting one more kiss on his mouth, this time softer. 

“Your room or mine?” You ask, to be met with a smirk as he grabs your hand and leads you across campus. It’s a path you could walk with your eyes closed, the muscle memory of so many nights embedded into your body by now. 

His room is all red carpet and wood paneling, empty takeout containers and beer cans and ashtrays strewn about. His bed is unmade and his textbooks are all over his floor, but it hardly matters when he’s kissing you like you’re the only person in the fucking universe. 

Within minutes, you settle back into a familiar routine. Clothes shed, completely bare to one another as you grind and writhe on top of him, hands on his toned chest. He’s gorgeous with his mouth open in ecstasy, labored breaths escaping it, eyes closed and clenched, hands rested on your waist as you move above him, a renaissance painting. You’re moaning too, tempering your whines so that the sounds don’t travel. The moon paints the room in subtle, cool light and the pleasure makes sweat bead on your brows.

“Missed you,” he manages between moans, voice heavy and breathy. “Missed this.” 

“It’s been like, two days,” you let out a chuckle, and it fades into a moan as you grind your hips again, trying not to scratch his chest with your manicured nails, though you doubt he'd mind too much.

“And that’s too long,” he replies, and you lean down and kiss him, open mouthed and messy and euphoric. 

When it’s all said and done, you lay naked beside him while he smokes a cigarette, arm laced around your bare shoulder, your head rested on his. It’s bliss, something you’ve begun to ache for all the time. “Really, thank you. That girl was driving me fucking insane.”

“That scene where your mom’s character and Hugh Grant ride off into the sunset together? Immaculate.” He mocks the girl, a surprisingly good impersonation, and you both belly laugh. You wipe away bits of red lipstick from his mouth and grin delicately at him. You know you’re not the only girl he’s seeing, not even the only girl he’s fucking, and it wedges something vile and dangerous in your heart. The words linger on your tongue. You want to ask, want to know, and if you sound desperate? Well, so be it. 

“What is this?” You wrench the words out quickly, looking at your hands. 

“What do you mean?” He takes a long drag of the cigarette, letting the smell perforate the air in the room, turning it cloudy in its wake. 

“Us,” you murmur, and he runs a hand through your hair. “Like… I know you’re fucking other people, Felix. And that’s fine but… I just want to be clear on what this.” 

He looks at you perplexed, smashing the cigarette in the ash tray and turning on his side toward you. You mirror his motions, so the two of you are laying in bed, you practically on top of him due to its size, your hands under your cheek. “I’m fucking other girls? News to me.” 

“I see the way you look at them,” you murmur. “India. Annabel. That guy you study with sometimes… Ryan?”

“I’m not fucking anyone else,” he mutters, seeming almost offended at the notion. He scoffs before his next words. “I practically haven’t even looked at anyone else.”

“Fe-“ he cuts you off, a hand brushing over your cheek, holding it delicately. 

“No,” he starts. “I know I have a reputation or whatever,” he waves his free hand around. “But I genuinely haven’t been seeing anyone else since we started… this.” He gestures between the two of you, and you can sense that he's lying, but it hardly matters. 

You’re almost self-conscious as his eyes rake over your body; so self aware of every little imperfection, every feature. The birthmark on your hip. The way one tit is just a bit bigger than the other. Your crooked finger from when you broke it playing volleyball in ninth grade. The gray hairs you’d been noticing popping up recently. 

“You’re the prettiest fucking girl at this college,” he says your name before kissing you sweetly. “Don’t want to look at anyone else.” You know it’s a lie, considering the fact that he does look at other girls, and often. It’s almost like you can’t bother to care, though. Your head is all floaty and tears are burning your eyes. 

He climbs on top of you, kisses down your chest, down your stomach, makes sure to take his time kissing that same birthmark you were so insecure about minutes before, your inner thighs, before finally landing where it matters most. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful, yeah?” He looks up at you with those gorgeous eyes, the earnestness in them making your heart swell up. In this moment, it’s not the same Felix that made you cry last week because he told you you needed to get your own friends (you have plenty), or the Felix that ignored you at the pub to talk to Annabel, causing you to storm out and ignore him for three days until he realized. 

Sometimes, he doesn’t care if you come, and he doesn’t clean up after himself, and sometimes his words bite, and last week he made that insensitive comment about your friend with depression. But you think you might love him, and it feels like enough. 

After, he asks you to stay with him. You laugh languidly, tears brimming at your eyes from how hard. He kisses you, soft and slow, the moonlight seeping into the window and painting the carpet with light; it looks like a lone puddle of blood in a sea of blackness. 

When you wake, it’s nearly noon. The sun beams through the curtains and you shield your eyes, trying to move underneath Felix’s strong grip. He’s got a hand wrapped around your thigh. Your leg wrapped around his waist while your arms are, slightly pained from the uncomfortable angle, folded around his neck. You regret moving your face from its spot in his chest, wanting nothing more than to occupy his space for as long as possible. 

You can’t bear to wake him, his eyelashes fluttering ever-so-slightly against his face. You smile, tuck yourself back into him, and feel his breaths come out relaxed and steady. The tranquility doesn’t last long, though, and you watch as his eyes flicker open. “Good morning,” his voice is raspy, his saccharine accent accentuating every word with posh sweetness. He kisses your cheek and gets up, your eyes meeting his bare ass. “I should go shower, you cool to stay here?” He asks as he gathers his things. 

“I need to go,” you also get up, searching around for your undergarments and your uncomfortable cocktail dress, pulling the blue, beaded garment on without much care. “Sundays are study days with June.”

You slip your uncomfortable heels on, wincing at the blister you’d developed last night but didn’t notice until now, and kiss him on the cheek as you leave his dorm. 

The trek across campus has you nearly limping in pain, as you kick your shoes off the second you make it into your room. You gather your shower gear, thankful for your own bathroom and the warmth of a long, hot shower. It’s almost painful to wash his scent off of you, but you know you’ll be seeing him again soon, and let your floral body wash cleanse you and your sore form. 

Before you get dressed, you grab antibiotic cream and bandaids from a drawer and tend to your blisters, throwing on a pair of slip-ons to avoid even more pain. 

And as you go to study with June, your mind is far from Shakespeare; it rests only on Felix, Felix, Felix. 

#felix catton x reader #felix catton #saltburn #saltburn x reader #saltburn smut #felix catton x you #felix catton x y/n #felix catton smut #felix catton fic #saltburn fanfic #saltburn fic #saltburn fanfiction

[aezuria]

Could you maybe do jason grace x jealous fem!reader? We know that Jason is canonically VERY attractive. He's legit all American boy fr, so obv he'd have so many ppl crushing on him in camp. So reader thinks she's not pretty enough for him or something and jason finds out abt it, and reassures her that's she's perfect :( ahh just some fluffiness maybe?

*ੈ✎ golden boy, can i be your golden girl?

content: jason grace x reader; oneshot

╰┈▸ back cover: part I | part II

warnings: bit of angst BUT it ends in fluff dw

librarian's annotations: IM SO SORRY ANON mitski started playing and i forgot u said "just some fluffiness" 😔😔

sometimes, you could hardly believe that you were dating the jason grace. "the jason grace," as if he was some world-famous football player, which he'll probably turn out to be. every single student knew his name like it was stamped into their brain as soon as they started attending this school. it made you both proud and uneasy, especially when more popular, pretty girls went up to him. you didn't doubt his loyalty, of course, but you often felt that he could have done so much better. any girl would gladly date him as soon as he requested. but he chose a no-name like you, instead. you couldn't count the amount of times your own classmates said "who?" when jason mentioned you.

it wasn't fair, you knew. you could tell he very obviously loved you by the way he handled you with such gentleness it made your heart hurt. his air alone seemed to shine like the sun, illuminating you and everyone around him. but akin to the sun, it hurt to look at him for too long.

and yet, you couldn’t bear to leave his side and offer a better, more suitable partner for him— for you were too selfish. he was all you ever wanted, was it so wrong to hold onto that dream for a few moments more?

(yes, it was)

"you'll be at my next game, right?" jason pressed a kiss to your temple as he cradled you in his arms, your back to his chest. "you're my good luck charm after all."

it was stupid. so stupid, because you knew he wanted you there— he just asked you at that. but it didn't stop the churning in your stomach about how you felt that you didn't belong on the bleachers.

"yeah. i'll be there for sure." you smiled. troubling jason would hurt you more than keeping your thoughts to yourself. you wouldn't let his sunshine dim if you could help it. and that, you could.

your heart was too heavy for you to fall asleep. it weighed you down, filling your lungs so you couldn't breathe. your rampant tossing and turning led you to the moon, shining timidly behind the curtain. you reached out to part it to the side, the moon sneaking into your room and drowning your sheets in a soft glow. it tickled your skin and did away with the uneasiness in your heart, scaring it away into tomorrow. rest easy, now.

but the moon was gone with the night, the sun in its place as it tugged at your heartstrings to wake you up. it's brightness was warm yet harsh, urging you to get ready and see your own golden boy. you heaved a sigh and obeyed, swinging your feet off the side of your bed and getting up. as you picked out your clothes, you caught sight of yourself in the mirror and paused. was this really what he wants? it was hard to believe. you didn't have to look close to see the imperfections etched on your face, your body. put next to jason, it'd only make you seem worse.

"y/n!" jason scooped you into a hug, already dressed in his gear, save for his helmet. the sun does have its quirks after all. his touch burned the most of your thoughts away, leaving only amusement behind.

"you're squeezing too tight!" you croaked out through a fit of giggles only he could make.

he loosened almost immediately, pulling away to look at you with a bright smile, the tips of his ears turning red in embarrassment. "sorry."

you only grinned and pulled him down for a quick good-luck kiss. "play hard, sunshine."

jason's nose wrinkled at the nickname. "sunshine?" he laughed. "whatever you say, beautiful."

his coach blew the whistle for the team to gather 'round, jason waving goodbye before you could answer. beautiful? how was it that he always knew the right thing to say at the right time?

you made your way to the bleachers, sitting near the front where the team's close friends (girlfriends) and family sat. the tendrils of your mind crept up your back once again as you sat near the edge. you couldn't help but feel out of place— many of them were already talking with each other, having been together for the previous years. whenever they'd lean in to giggle at something, you couldn't help but think that they were talking about you. was it because you did your makeup bad today? was your outfit wrinkled? did the wind mess up your hair? the feeling in your gut returned, more persistent than last time.

you forced a bright smile as jason ran up to you once again, a triumphant grin splitting his face. "i won for you!" as he always did. you were happy, truly, and you hoped it showed instead of the emotions you just couldn't seem to get rid of.

"i saw! you did so good, jason!"

okay... something was definitely up. usually, you'd give him a kiss as soon as he came here— where was his kiss? and why didn't your sweet smile reach your eyes? but he knew you wouldn't tell him, especially not with this many people around.

"all for you," he repeated softly, his arm wrapping around your waist as he led you out of the field. "can you come over? i feel i'm in need of your therapeutic cuddles." he looked at you out of the corner of his eye, knowing the only way him to get you in a place he was able to comfort you was by making it seem as if he needed it. because for some reason, helping came so easily to you for the sake of anyone but yourself.

"..alright." you agreed after a brief pause. "is something wrong? or are you just tired?"

ever the angel, your immediate concern was heartwarming. jason gave you a reassuring smile. "just tired."

you came out of his bathroom, changed into one of his shirts. it smelled like him, touched with sunburnt kisses. he was already in bed, half of the blanket folded open for you to slip in.

and that you did, curling up beside him as his arms wrapped you up like a gift. he buried his face into your neck, breathing deeply before he whispered, "you wanna tell me what's going on?"

you froze. how did he know? were you that obvious? you should’ve hid it better! it’s not even a big deal, he shouldn’t have to-

“you know i love you, right?” jason spoke up, interrupting your thoughts. he said it so earnestly there was no other answer but yes. so, you nodded against him.

“only you. did you know you’re my first real girlfriend?” he pulled away, a soft light dancing in his eyes.

“really?” it was a hard thing to believe. with all the girls throwing themselves at him, it would be odd for him to not like any of them. “but, you’re so.. you. you’re kind and smart and talented.. tall and handsome too..”

“well.. i wouldn’t say that…” he chuckled nervously, not expecting to be hit with the side barrage of compliments. “but look at you— you’re smart and sweet, thoughtful and considerate..” he trailed off, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “and so, so, beautiful.” before you had a chance to doubt yourself, he leaned in and kissed your cheek, before moving his hand and doing the same with the other. soft lips moved to the tip of your nose, then up to your forehead, ending with one to your lips.

“the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.” he looked at you with such fondness, all your thoughts disappeared, whisked away into the air.

you met his eyes, a smile starting to show. oh, how he missed it.

#*ੈ✎ stories #jason grace #jason grace x reader #hoo #hoo x reader #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackon and the olympians

[oliver-quick-ens-my-pulse]

Just the Two of Us

Ominis Gaunt x f!Reader

Summary - Anon request for "I love your writing! I was hoping I could request a NSFW female reader x Ominis and them having their first time together in the Undercroft? They weren't planning on it but it happens and Ominis is very nervous and shy. 🥺"

Word Count - 1,636

Warnings - 18 + smut, characters aged up, soft Ominis

A/N - I feel like this didn't come out so well, as someone who's not new to sex anymore I have such a hard time writing clumsy virgin sex, but let me know what you think!

You felt like you couldn't shut the door behind you fast enough as you padded across the stone floor to find Ominis, waiting for you in the Undercroft.

A lot of things had happened down here, a lot of unpleasant and life-changing conversations. Lately, you and Ominis has been trying to at least make some new positive ones to imprint over the old.

Ominis' face lit up the moment he heard your footsteps, he looked up from the table he was cleaning off and you threw yourself into his arms.

You nearly knocked him over, but he caught you and held you steady, holding you still to meet you with a kiss.

"Someone's excited to see me."

"Of course," you wrapped your hands around his shoulders, "I'm excited for the break we have. Everyone is nearly gone home and you and I are here with all the time and space in the world."

He loved to hear you happy. And he did love that he would have so much free time to devote to you. He was free from worrying about Sebastian and just how hard he had made things.

"I am too, although that does mean we don't have to be down here in this dungeon," he laughed and gestured around.

"Well, I happen to like this place, it's private and just for us." You held his face in your hands softly rubbing at his cheeks before kissing him deeply.

He sighed against your mouth and ran his tongue along your bottom lip to taste you. You felt your body heat up at the contact, reaching behind his head to pull him closer.

Ominis loved the feeling of your hands through his hair, he wanted to know if you would pull harder were he between your thighs instead. At the same time he felt nervous at you seeing him disheveled, it's one of the reasons he had avoided going much further with you. It's not like he could tell how he looked so it made him twice as self-conscious to be so unware.

When he pulled away you pretended to pout, lightly shoving him. "Ominis, you can't leave a girl hanging like that. I can tell you're enjoying it too." Your voice was soft as you pressed yourself against him, feeling the early stages of his erection.

He stepped back from you and gestured from his rumpled up cloak to his hair all askew, "Don't I look silly to you? I just. I feel I can't look good enough for you for anything like this." He swallowed hard, eyes darting around in embarrassment.

If only he could see the lust in your eyes and the way your lips parted for him. Seeing him flustered was really better than any perfectly polished version of him any day in your opinion.

"Ominis you're so sexy when you're just, just being you. Every imperfection makes you so much more desirable to me."

You walked back up to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, "I'll never make you do anything you don't want. So if you still want to go slow and wait on this kind of thing, we can."

You were both flustered. Flushed cheeks and hot bodies collided as he kissed you with more passion this time, taking you off guard. It between kisses he muttered, "I want to try, just take it easy on me?"

You grinned against his mouth at his statement, pushing his robes from his shoulders, "We're both going to be bad at this Ominis, it's okay."

You slipped your hands down his shoulders and held his hands within your own as you deepened the kiss. He traced feather light caresses over your fingers and up your arms to discard your robe as well. He felt emboldened enough to the press his palm up beneath your sweater, feeling your warm skin as he crept up to your chest.

You muttered his name softly, encouraging him to explore further. You leaned into his touch as he dipped below your chemise, massaging one breast and then the other. He felt your nipples stiffen under his touch, encouraging him to roll them between his fingers.

You broke free from the your kiss to lift your sweater above your head, you pulled the chemise at the same time leaving your top half completely exposed. Ominis couldn't see, but he felt the fresh air in the way that goosebumps formed on your skin beneath him.

Ominis felt the tips of his ears get hot and he whispered to you how beautiful you were. You grabbed his free hand and placed both of them on your breasts as you ground yourself against his front. You saw the rise and fall in his chest pick up and his eyes widened as a reflex.

You guided his hands down lower and he hooked his thumbs into both of your bottoms, sliding to the floor with them. He looked up at you with his face you leaning against your smooth calf.

"You smell delicious," he commented as he placed kisses on your knees, working his way up. You couldn't take your eyes off of him as he braced a hand on your thigh, standing back up and sliding his hand to cup your wet pussy as he did so.

"Y-You're turn," you stuttered out, placing your hands at the hem of his shirt, stripping him of it quickly. He was pale and lean, but somewhere in the last few years he had filled out more, you loved feeling up his broad expanse of skin.

You held onto him for balance as he attempted to get his pants off, but he stumbled back into the wall. He looked at you like he was caught in a spotlight and you couldn't hold in the small bit of laughter.

"It's okay," you said as you walked up to him, spinning him so that you were the one against the wall, "It looks like I might have caught you with your pants down." He kissed you once more to save himself from his own embarrassment. You couldn't complain when you felt his cock up against your stomach.

"Ominis," you muttered, "can you, do you think you could lift me and I could..." you let your words trail off for him to insinuate what you were getting at.

He used firm hands to grip onto the sensitive curve where your thighs meet your back side and you used the wall as a brace a he lifted you and you wrapped your legs around him.

The both of you groaned at all of the sudden sensations. He could feel your heat and slick with his throbbing hard-on. He discovered how nice it was digging into the plump flesh of your ass while he held onto you and kneaded it.

You thrusted your hips against his helplessly while he decided to lick and suck on your neck. You felt limp in his arms, like you would do anything he asked if the sensations were going to be this good.

"I want to, to be inside," he said sheepishly, "do you think you're ready?" Luckily for you he felt your head nod because you were too busy for words.

He moved an arm to wrap around your waist while he used his other hand to guide the weeping head of his cock to your entrance. He got a devilish smirk on his face as he rubbed his pre-cum across your tight hole.

You moaned his name and bucked your hips so that the tip would start to slide in, both of you having a sharp intake of breath as it do so.

"F-fuck, Y/N," he took his time trying to fill you up comfortably, "I don't - ah - I don't know if it'll fit."

You grimaced from the new sensation of being stretched out, but spoke to him softly and reassured him that it was normal for the first time.

"Just, just push yourself inside, Ominis," he found himself unable to hold back as he harshly pressed his hips in to meet yours. You pulled him tight and flush to your body as you cried out.

"More, I want more, fuck me, Ominis." He didn't need to be told twice as he was feeling the most sensory overload he'd ever experienced. He nearly panicked as he wasn't sure how he was supposed to keep it together long enough to please you.

He stuttered out your name, "I don't know how long I can last," he huffed, his cheeks bright red and his groans getting louder by the second.

You reached down between your legs and he quickly noticed your fingers, understanding what you wanted. He dragged the wetness from your thighs over to your clit with his index finger, alternating pressure to find the sensation you liked the best.

He couldn't contain himself when you made so many whines and scratched at his back with your nails. He didn't pause in his attack on your most sensitive part as he thrusted hard and fast, shooting all of his load up inside of you.

Your name mixed with apologies tumbled off of his lips while he continued to move his hips at a much slower pace, you could feel your heat building in your stomach and you pressed your hand over his to add more pressure.

You could see stars as you came around him, reveling in the new feeling of being so full when you came. You sat still, clinging to each other while you fought to catch your breath.

"'m sorry it was so soon, I - I - I thought -," you shushed his apologies assuring him they weren't needed.

You pulled his face to yours, pressing your nose to his, "It just means we need more practice right?"

#ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt #ominis x reader #ominis gaunt smut #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x oc #ominis smut #ominis #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy x mc

[ineffable-suffering]

Trauma-Dumping on your plants: The Anthony J. Crowley Chronicles

This has been living in my silly head rent free for so long, I finally decided to slap it on here in hopes of thinking about it a little less (than three times a day. It's been years. I need to get over it.)

Also, I'm absolutely certain I'm not even remotely the first person to realize or post about this, since it's not the hardest of parallels to figure out. Alas, I still shall, because out of mind, out of sight and all that. So:

Let's talk about how Crowley is using his houseplants to work through his own Trauma of the Fall. Or, well, maybe not work through it per se, but more so roleplay it to give it somewhat of an an outlet because he never got over it. Lol.

It's not rocket science to figure it out and God Herself actually gives us a pretty spot-on explanation of it in her own narration.

Crowley's plants are perfect. They're, as God Herself tells us, the most luxurious and beautiful in all of London. He takes great care of them, waters them, mists them. Does any and everything to give them the perfect conditions so they won't have a worry in the world.

And yet, we're immediately shown that despite the seemingly perfect conditions they're living in, Crowley's plants still get *gasps quietly* spots. And we all know how Crowley feels about that:

It seems like such an unnecessary tiny thing to get upset about, right? Like, plants get spots all the time. They're not perfect, they're part of nature and nothing is ever perfect in nature. Crowley would know that by now. Imperfection is the whole point of nature. If everything had stayed exactly the way it always was, nothing would have ever changed or evolved.

Besides, Crowley is a demon. If it were merely about aesthetics to him, he could easily miracle away any spot with a blink of his serpent eyes. But he gets so angry about it, it's almost comical. At first we think it's just to show us, the audience, that, in contrast to Aziraphale, who cares very dearly and lovingly for his books, Crowley is a mean, mean demon who, instead of being outwardly nice to the things he loves (like Aziraphale does), yells at his plants because he's a mean meanie.

But! If you look at the whole scene and what God says, it's pretty obvious what he's actually doing is something else entirely: "What Crowley does is he puts the fear of God in them. Or, the fear of Crowley. The plants are the most luxurious and beautiful in London. Also the most scared."

Folks, this man dude serpent is literally roleplaying the concept of God/Heaven threatening angels with their Fall in order to keep them obedient ... with his houseplants.

Have I mentioned yet that I am absolutely obsessed with him and also desperately wanna get him a therapy voucher?

Because what does he do once he sees a plant disobeying his rules of perfection and acting out? The same thing God did to her questioning, equally disobedient angels (including Crowley): Parade it in front of the very scared rest, making an example of it ...

... only to then, well ...

... quite literally chuck it out.

To anyone else, this seems like a completely ridiculous thing to do over a tiny, minuscule spot. There would have been a bunch of other ways to go about fixing that spot.

Figuring out what it was the plant needed that might not have been given to it yet.

Taking care of it in a different, individual way so it would have been able to thrive again.

Listening to the plant and letting it tell you why its spot appeared in the first place.

Telling the plant, that loves and relies on you entirely, you love it too, despite it not being without fault, despite of it not fully living up to your unreachable standards of perfection.

Caring for the plant not because you want it to be perfect, but because you're okay with it being imperfect.

(We're no longer talking about plants here, as you are probably aware.)

Alas, this isn't what Crowley does. Because it wasn't what God did, either. We still know very little about Crowley's actual Fall and the Fall of Lucifer and the rest. But we do know that Crowley was never like or even with them.

All he did was ask some questions. A tiny spot. A seemingly insignificant blemish in the luxurious, beautiful flora of Heaven.

And yet, before he knew it, he did a "million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulfur". Cast out, chucked away, just like his little spotty plant. And for what? Well ...

... to keep the others angels plants check, for the rest of time.

***

(Addendum from the comments: If we go by what the book tells us, Crowley doesn’t actually end up violently throwing out the ‚bad‘ plants. He just finds a different place for them and makes sure they‘re looked after. So much to him being a big, bad, meanie-mean demon.)

#botany over therapy #harvest the garden of your emotional trauma #its ok crowley just take my hand ill take you to a nice doctor #crowley #good omens #good omens season 1 #crowley's fall #he's not even close to ever being over it #which is understandable #ineffable trauma #the plants are a metaphore #my own meta

[slices-of-naranja]

I desperately need to organize my thoughts but if I don’t get this out now I will forget it, so take some vague circular incoherent ramblings about Jason motherfucking Grace.

Jason Grace has this weird kind bluntness about him that I desperately need to study. He’s so normal in a fucked up way. Almost regular. Almost an Average Kid. Brutally honest and kind and pragmatic. He wakes up on a bus with no memory, holding hands with a girl, and he’s immediately like “What the fuck. Who are you people. Where am I. Who am I?” Doesn’t even try to play along to figure out what’s happening.

One of the first things he says to Leo is “You’re weird.” Just “You’re weird.”

Jason is judgy as fuck!! Like!! Such a judgmental motherfucker!!! “If Leo is his best friend, then his life is seriously messed up.” Like!!! What the fuck!!! Be nicer to the man you fall madly in love with!!!

He sees Mean Kid (monster) Dylan and immediately goes “fuck that dude.” (“Jason hated him instantly.”) He even mentally makes fun of the guy’s outfit!!! And he roasts the shit out of Dylan’s fucking shiny ass teeth!! He sees two girls being mean to Piper and he literally, despite not knowing where he is or why he’s there, tries to fight them!! And Leo is the only thing holding him back from immediately throwing hands!!

Mr. “I can’t even take Leo out for burgers bc he’ll set the restaurant on fire.” After the 1 (one) time Leo gets too excited and bursts into flame. (Leo not being able to control his powers as a consequence of finally starting to use them after years of repression is something i WILL be talking about another time)

Jason is a judgy, brutally honest bitch. Like, he’s kind and good natured and strong. But years of being raised by wolves, strict deadly Romans, and being praetor have made him a little bit harsh. Rough around the edges. Just a bit off. This is the dude who was like “hm. Yeah I know Nico’s ur boy but… world is ending. So.” He’s been raised to be pragmatic. Make snap judgements. Be harsh. Be deadly. Like, reading his PoV is so different from the fandom characterization.

Jason is wittier, snappier, and wayyy more regular teenage boyish than I thought. He just has that Roman Demigod Edge to him… the part of him that was trained to scream “MONSTERS! MIST! MAGIC! DANGER!!!” even when he had no memory. I need to study this boy so badly. He’s fucking fascinating.

Bc for all his judgement, he grows so quickly attached to people. Like, it doesn’t take long for him to be fiercely loyal to Piper and Leo and Camp Halfblood. I think that’s because they accepted and loved an imperfect him, and while Expectations were still there, expectations he’s been haunted by his whole life, they’re lesser. Bc Piper and Leo don’t know shit fuck about the mythical world. And the rest of the seven are just as strong and capable as Jason, so he has no need to lead. I don’t know. Jason Grace drives me crazy. Marching to his destiny like a good little soldier. No other options for a son of Jupiter. Have to be strongest, have to be praetor, have to lead a legion-

He loves Nico like a best friend. He adores and admires Leo’s wit and talent and smarts, something that is mentioned a lot in his POV. (While also pointing out Leo’s bullshit.) He envies and admires Percy’s strength. He loves Piper’s brashness and heart. He loves them all. I don’t know. He’s quick to judge but he’s even quicker to change his mind. I forgot where I was going with this. Jason Grace has always been a hero at heart and a soldier since age 4 and I think that’s why some people think he’s boring. He’s trained to be serious and stuff. We don’t get to see him goof around very much, except for with Leo, and Leo does most of the goofs. And I would love to know who Jason Grace, judgmental pragmatic kindhearted bitch, would be if he just got to be a regular teenager.

And I think that’s why he loved camp Halfblood. It gave him half a chance at being half normal. What’s one more big three kid? There’s no strict orders or rules to follow or shape him there. But unfortunately, Jason, hero at heart, soldier since age 4, trained to be selfless, trained to give everything up for the greater good, was never going to get a happy ending. Never get a chance at what Percy Jackson found. Being a demigod kills people. And Jason was one from birth, to his very core.

I think part of him would be relieved, at that. Knowing that Percy Jackson, hero with a happy ending, is someone he will never be. Never overcome or surpass. Yeah, it’s the exact reason they’re rivals, too similar to not be compared, yeah it hurts his pride and goes against everything he was raised to be, and yeah he’s had a few silent breakdowns over it, but there’s relief in knowing he’d never win. Being in Percy’s shadow at Camp Halfblood means he can be out of the spotlight. Die a hero’s death while knowing there is no other option. There’s peace in that.

Anyway New Rome represents heteronormativity and Camp Halfblood is Jason figuring out he’s gay. I will not take criticism.

#Jason grace my boy #you desevered so much better than how Rick treated you #the fandom too #you were never boring baby #pjo hoo toa #toa spoilers #hoo #Jason Grace #character study #Jason Grace character study #jason grace angst #kind of #I love Jason grace #heroes of olympus #hoo spoilers

[lost-and-ephemeral]

may we have a fluff fic of us kissing Zayne's hands? Like...Just gently holding them and showing affection to him in such a soft matter?

Imagine: His Hands (ft. Zayne)

Pairing: Zayne (Love & Deepspace) x reader

Tags: fluff

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´- 

In Zayne's case, he rarely got to spend a peaceful morning with you. But every time he did, you were very happy.

Just like this time, you watched him smile sleepily, his hair slightly disheveled after night, but he looked almost ethereal this way. Now in front of you was not a strict doctor, but the most beloved person in this world.

Your beloved person.

You slowly reached for his palms, squeezing them gently and pulling them closer to your chest. You already were familiar with every scar on his hands, and instinctively ran your fingers over them, making Zayne shiever a bit.

He knew how affectionate you can be, but every time he was filled with so much love towards you.

"What's so special about my hands?" he asked, watching your every move. And that warm smile didn't disappear from his lips.

Instead of answering him right away, you leaned closer to his hands and pressed a warm kiss to one of his scars, then to another. Until literally every scar was honored by your tender kisses.

This simple action made Zayne's breath hitch in his throat.

"I don't know," you admitted honestly, still not letting go of his cold palms. They were such a contrast to your warm ones. "Maybe they are so special because you're a surgeon with golden hands. Or maybe it's because I love you. And all your perfect imperfections like these scars should be showered in my affection too."

#love and deepspace zayne #lads #love and deepspace #zayne #zayne x reader #zayne x you