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machiavellli · 5 months

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Some Lorenzo Berkshire headcanons˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Notes: after a month I made them. I am truly sorry, I am the ceo of procrastination. But I had so much fun writing those though, because Lorenzo is my silly lovely boy, I wanna hug him so bad, he too precious. And this song, reminds me of him so bad, like every time I listen to it, my mind immediately jumps to him.

Honestly I got a bit carried away, I wanted to cover maybe other parts, like how he is as a boyfriend, but well-. You read it and of course you can tell me what you think after :)

Pairing: Lorenzo Berkshire x reader

Infos: pretty much just fluff, possible dramatic scene, no use of y/n, Lorenzo being cute, mutual pinning, English is not my first language (please if you find any mistake report them to me!).

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Lorenzo Berkshire, the most precious slytherin boy:

You two first met when you were just children because of your families

And I don’t know about you, but I used to despise boys so much when I was little, until I was seven (or perhaps even eight), so I kinda imagine your first meeting to be not that charming.

Like little Enzo panicking because he can’t understand what he did wrong, why this little girl is making such a disgusted face for him

But as you two grow more comfortable around each other, he becomes your best boy friend.

You two have many chances to see each other during your childhood and you always tried to make the best out of each encounter.

The type of kids that would cry when they have to separate after playing all day together.

And also the type of children that would definitely try to pull a prank on little Draco, just for them to get chased down by Lucius Malfoy himself after and cry frightened.

But something inside you two changes when you both are forced into your first ballroom dancing class (I headcanon that all the high-ranking families in the magical society enjoy hosting elegant dinners and balls, so follow me on this)

The proximity between you two, the touch of her hand, totally make little Enzo go all flushed.

Therefore, that soft innocent crush in the heart of the two children starts to blossom.

You drew hearts next to his name in your diary, imprisoning your feelings at the edge of a paper too scared to burn at the sight of the light, too scared to show this growing affection.

Little Enzo would sometimes pick a flower from his garden, trying to build some courage in himself for giving it to you. But that never happens.

When you get to Hogwarts he is your rock.

Perhaps if you an introvert he is the one introducing you to people or literally bringing you inside a friend group.

Ever heard of the trope “extrovert adopts an introvert”? Like that I mean.

Anyway, the crush is still there, of course, but none of you dare to even consider talking about it. Because no one has the guts to risk losing their favorite person.

Lorenzo is very cheerful, a ray of sunshine, and as he grows more people start to notice. And that’s a problem.

You are jealous, terribly.

Seeing those girls approaching him, giggling like infants, even when you are right at his side, hurts you.

He always refuse them politely and you smile in you mind.

Lorenzo is such a gentleman and everybody knows it.

Always giving you his arm while walking, opening doors,

moving chairs,

asking “how did you sleep darling?” or “have you eaten today dear?”

hugging you every time you see each other,

Offering his jacket to you as soon as he notice that it is becoming a little cold

Listening you ramble for hours about your favorite subject or a book you just read, always with that delicious little smile painted on his face.

And if he finds you crying for whatever reason he will take you into his arms immediately.

Listening to you explain through your tears what happened, while one hand strokes your hair gently and the other your back.

Seeing you hurt has an effect on him, definitely will let a couple of tears slip while you can’t see him.

Lorenzo is an empath, he will understand you and he will comfort you.

Also I feel like his love language is debatable, but he will definitely like to touch you, to feel your presence concretely.

Even if you two are not together he will often try to pull out an arm around your shoulders, always respecting your decision to refuse it and your personal vital space though.

Perhaps, sometimes, as you are all focused making your pen run during your studies session, he will look at your hand, wishing to be able to linger over it without an explanation.

He is also jealous, of course, because no one knows how desperate he is for you, how he feels blinded by how beautiful you have grown.

He feels his eyes and heart burning when a guy at a party tries to hit on you.

The golden retriever energy is suddenly gone and Theo will pull out a worried look for his friend.

But you aren’t his, how stupid it is of him to ache himself for something he never had.

After another scene of this kind, Theo decides to ask him about this totally not subtle behavior of his. (You already know that I headcanon Enzo and Theo to be best buddies shhh)

It takes a while for him to confess, but either for the tipsy state or the exhaustion that this situation has brought to him, he confess.

After years, let’s say it happens in the 6th year, he finally tells someone, felling already a bit lighter.

Theo looks at him, trying to not laugh, but miserably fails: “mate do you need glasses?”

And then he explains to him that anyone can see that something is going on between the two.

That you look at him like he is the sun lighting your existence and so does he with you.

Perhaps it is time to act now, to not fear, to be brave.

He won’t ask you directly though, I see him more prone to writing down a letter to you

Pouring on paper his feelings, how exceptionally well you make him feel, in conclusion, his love for you.

The angel sent from above that you are in his eyes, that he always had and always will e have at his side if he seals with ink his emotions.

Perhaps it could look something like this:

My Dearest,

In the quiet corners of my soul, I've carried a secret for what feels like an eternity, my heart dances to the rhythm of your name. Amidst youthful dreams and uncertain tomorrows, your laughter echoes in my thoughts, painting vivid hues in the canvas of my days. With each passing day, your radiance grows, illuminating the path of my existence. Today, in this moment of bravery, perhaps taken by a Gryffindor spirit, I dare to confess what has long lingered unspoken: I adore you beyond measure.

Yours sincerely,

Lorenzo

And do we want the realization dramatic? Of course, is that even a question?

You recive his letter in a moment of privacy, perhaps in a quiet corner of the library while you are studying.

A first year approach you and quickly says “It is from Lorenzo Berkshire, he wants to know what you think then” before running away.

You look at the letter puzzled, looking at the delicate handwriting in which your initials are written on the outside.

You open the letter and everything just stops.

Only your eyes move, running desperately over and over again on the words overflowed by pure love.

How is it that you never noticed?

How is it that someone can love you so deeply?

The clock has continued its tireless dance for too long and you finally had enough.

There it won’t be peace until you found him.

An exceptional energy, filled with excitement, happiness and love, takes over you.

You suddenly snap, lifting yourself up from your cozy spot, leaving everything behind, because your real everything is in front of you.

The sound of your shoes, tirelessly beating against the hard floor as you run, is all you can hear.

People send concerned look in your way as you brush not so cordially their shoulder, trying to make your way to your lover.

The halls are full, the rain is once again pouring outside, you don’t even know where you are going, simply drove by the now fully ignited sentiment.

Lorenzo is repaired outside in the viaduct courtyard, waiting for his friends to be done with their smoking when he sees you.

You, bravely exiting the library annex, making your way to the viaduct bridge, looking left and right, looking for him.

Without a word to the others he starts running in your direction, the rain quickly wetting him entirely.

You are now both running, from opposite side of the bridge, people gathering around looking as the scene consume before them.

It is cold,

It is wet,

The nature is gray under the fog.

But two hearts beat ferociously, desperately trying to approach the other.

Your drenched hair flows with your movement, hands in a fist, your vision lightly blurred.

And in the middle of the bridge he catches you.

An hug full of every word neglect for so long.

He spins you around for has many years he had to wait for this, before he lets you go, moving his hands to cup your face gently as the rain harshly pours on you.

Eyes so desperate to crawl into the other’s spirit.

“I sense my letter has reached you” he will say smiling like an idiot drunk on love

You giggle, like the kids you used to be.

Because you have known each other for a lifetime, but only now he has found you.

“My dear, I love you” he will say before kissing you, warming your body, lighting your existence.

Everything faded then, from the cheers of the other students looking at the theatrical scene, to the screams of the various professor trying to pull you inside.

Your heart finally funded his.

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I hope you liked them🫶✨

my ask box is open btw!

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abbyshands · 3 months

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I can't even lie; I think a lot of the reason that TLOU fans specifically seem to be so angry about the strike and annoyed at having to hear about what's going on in Palestine is because they don't want to be reminded of the reasons why they should no longer buy anything in relation to the game. They don't want to be made to feel bad if they bought the remaster, or merch, or just bought the games in general even after finding out about Neil being a Zionist and sending money to Israel. It's sad, honestly.

anon. THIS! 100% percent. people are too full of themselves to want to feel responsible, to be held accountable. and it’s not like we’re saying to never play the game again, you know, never like it again? i don’t think people realize that it doesn’t even work like that. you can very well play the game (or watch someone else do it) or watch the show n’whatever, just make sure you’re getting it secondhand or pirating it, etc. what’s so hard about that? i hardly own a video game i didn’t buy secondhand, and i know i’m not the only one who’s watched a movie or show on some random ass site. it isn’t that difficult. and if you want to get merch? places like etsy have a million things you can buy, things even better than nd’s actual stuff (and, obviously, you’re not funding a zionist in the process).

like, it’s one thing when you’ve already purchased things before you knew. okay, well now you do, and here’s your chance to compensate for that, at least a little bit. but going out of your way to buy the remastered or saying you’re gonna keep watching the show & whatever (from hbo, i mean), when you know all of this? that shit’s just fucked. neil druckmann does not need you to dick ride him for being an actual pos. like, what?

i can’t even get what’s so hard about remaining aware of the media you consume, especially in our world. it’s not even just the last of us you need to do this for: it’s any show or movie you watch, any game you play, any book you read. you can’t just not do that considering the world we live in today. i believe that’s incredibly ignorant, and to be less scholarly, dumb. i never believed i’d see the day where a genocide wouldn’t be enough to make someone’s heart break. to make someone fucking cry. to make someone not want to speak out about it, to do their part to get it to end. god, i can’t believe it.

but on a bit of a better note, it makes my heart swell to see people on here, especially most of my mutuals, using their voices and followings to spread awareness about this. can’t even explain how much i love you, how much you deserve the world. or to people like this anon, who aren’t attacking me or anyone else for doing the right thing, & speaking actual common sense ♡

sorry this was such a long response, but you really spoke to me on this one, anon !!! keep spreading awareness about these people suffering before our eyes, backlash & ridicule or not. FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE.

#kitlyn’s anons ♡#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson fic #ellie williams fic #free palestine #palestine #free gaza #gaza

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tojisbbygworl · 11 months

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Just For The Night - Hobie Brown x Black!Punk!Reader pt. 2

Summary: Two anarchists meet at a concert and decide that one night just isn't enough...but one night is all they have

Words: 5,697

Tags: 18+, 3rd person, Mutual Pining, SMUT, Oral (f receiving), Degradation, Marijuana, High Sex, Pussy Whipped, Slight Accent Kink, Slight Angst, Yandere if you squint, Reader and Hobie are 21+, Canon Divergence (Doesn't follow ATSV events/Hobie's universe is present day instead of 1978), Mentions of protesting and Cop City in Atlanta, I tried my best with the British slang

author's note: Here's part 2! This one is muuuchhh longer so you can really skip the part before the page break if you're just here for the smut. It's mostly just her (your) backstory.

Part 1 Epilogue

AO3 Version

My AO3

Masterlist

"Shit, it's brick out here."

"You're telling me." The difference in temperature from the sweltering venue to the city almost made Hobie want to go back inside and fuck her in the bathroom instead. But Y/N did say that she had a blunt at home and she seemed very eager to smoke it. Or fuck him. Either one was good.

He took a moment to admire her. He was right about her Demonias. They were long with lot's of large buckles and he loved that he still towered over her even though they were platforms. Now that they were out of the dark building, he could see the various tattoos that littered her arm and thigh. Fuck him, he was going to have fun with her.

She told him that she didn’t live far and they could walk there. That was fine with him, he didn’t want to get on a cramped train anyway. He did wish that he could just swing them there, but then he wouldn’t see the way her ass moves while she walks.

He would be lying if he said she didn’t intrigue him. From his knowledge, Atlanta, Georgia was considered the Deep South of America. It had to have been hundreds of miles away. And this area doesn’t seem like a place someone who was swimming in money would be living in. Not that it was terrible, more so humble. Like where he lived.

“So, tell me,” he calls out to her. She was walking a little ways ahead of him, courtesy of Hobie wanting to ogle her. She turned around when he spoke. “How does an Atlanta babe find herself at a Rico Nasty concert in Brooklyn?”

She waits for him to catch up to her then starts walking by his side. “Huh, it’s a…long story.”

“I don’t mind.” He answers honestly. Since they’ve left the concert, Hobie has felt a strange pull towards her that exceeded his feeling of lust. He wondered if she felt the same.

She went quiet and opted to look thoughtfully towards the ground. Hobie began to backtrack. “Or, I could shut up and let you sit on my face instead. Whichever one you want.”

She squealed and hit his chest making him laugh. It wasn’t really a joke, but Hobie’s glad to see that he didn’t make her uncomfortable. “Nah, your good,” she reassured him. “I can do both.”

“Oh?” Hobie raised his eyebrows and gave her his full undivided attention. She takes in a deep breath, let’s it out, and begins to tell him her story.

“Well, you seem like someone who can appreciate a rebel.”

“Yeah?” Hobie bemused. What would this girl be rebelling against? “So, what your like a runaway? Parents, maybe?”

She looked away. Ah, he read her like a book. Then she dropped a bomb on him. “Eh, kind of. More so the Atlanta Police Department.”

He froze. She giggled to herself pretending to not notice and turn around when she was some feet away. She knew he wasn’t expecting that. No one does. She could count on her hand how many people up here she’s told and he was one of them. She trusted him, and she doesn’t know why. She hoped he felt the same.

Hobie couldn’t take his eyes off of her. When he realized how far she was, he ran to catch up. “You're on the run from the Atlanta PD?” She couldn’t contain herself enough and she let out a snort and nodded her head. Hobie shakes his. “No. I don’t believe it. You’re having a laugh.”

“I’m deadass.” She answers still laughing. Hobie drops his head in utter disbelief.

“Well what in bloody hell did you do?” The both of you start walking again.

“...You might not know but, a couple years ago there was a huge uproar of protesting here. In the US, I mean.”

Hobie did not know. He assumes something terrible must have happened, and he’s sure that something like that would have reached London. Maybe it didn’t happen on Earth - 138.

He gingerly shook his head. “I was a part of them. I would organize with some close friends and hand out water and snacks while we were there.” She explained.

“My parents weren’t too happy about that. I had just graduated and I wasn’t going to college. I had a job at a tattoo parlor so…they thought I was a failure.” Hobie listened intently to every word she said. “They would say I just love to bring trouble and always used me going out as an example.”

“They were afraid an officer would come to the door next. And then one day shit went left and we were getting sprayed with tear gas. My stupid ass picked up a can and threw that shit. I guess it hit one of them in the face, I don’t know. I couldn’t see shit.” She giggles and he laughs with her.

“I was pinned down and put in a holding cell for about a week.” She continues.

“Shit.” Hobie knew a few people who that’s happened to. Every story shares the same thing, it’s fucking terrible.

She nods. “Yeahhhh…then my parents kicked me out.”

“Shit,” he exclaims. She continues to nod. “So is that how you got here?” She shakes her head. Hobie gasps. “There’s more?” Nod. He gasps again making her laugh at him. “Tell me.”

“Okay, Okay,” She waits to calm down a bit. “I was just staying with friends after that. Then, maybe some months ago, there was this project announced for the city.” Hobie frowns noticing how much more dejected she had become. “They were going to cut down a forest to create a ‘training ground’ for emergency services.”

“What the fuck…?” Hobie was appalled.

“You can imagine how that sounds to civilians, right? A mock city for law enforcement to play cops and fucking robbers.” She spits out. “I was part of the groups of people who stayed in the forest to prevent construction.”

Just like before, he stopped again. This time, in complete and utter admiration. She smiled at him. “That’s…amazing.”

“Thank you.” She nods her head back to the path so they can continue walking. Hobie stands just a little bit closer to her now.

“So...did shit go left again?” He asked only half joking. She grimaced.

“It was bad. There were a lot of gunshots, and screaming. And fireworks.”

“Fireworks?”

“Fireworks.”

He stared at her expectantly. “And what did you do with them?”

She looks around cutely while smiling. Hobie knows that whatever she did, she didn’t regret it for a second. “Maybe I lit up and threw it at one’s foot. And then it lit the leaves on fire.”

He can’t hold back the laugh that kept from his throat. “Ha!” He clapped his hands and looked at her. “What happened after that?”

“I think he recognized me from the protests or maybe I’m just a hot topic, because the way that man came at me and mowed me down.” Hobie jerked his head back.

“What?”

“Boy, yes. That man tried to beat me with his baton.” The story just kept getting wilder and wilder.

“How did you get out of that?”

“I stole his taser and shot it at his chest.”

“No, your taking the piss,” he shouted excitedly. “No you didn’t.”

“Hold on now because he was still holding me so I got shocked too.” Hobie cackled at her. “It worked though. He let me go and I ran away with some of the others. Only a few people stayed behind. I went back home and woke up to my face on the news the next day.”

The the emotional rollercoaster that Hobie was one was something for the books. He had never felt such quick changes in such little time. He was shocked, then sad, then impressed, then elated, then sad again. What is this girl’s life?

“Man I had to get the fuck out of there. My friend took me up to Maryland where her family lived. Then they brought me here. I got a lil’ ugly ass apartment and a new tattoo job. Made a couple friends, and now I’m here. With you.”

That last part wasn’t expected for either of them. It just came out. But it felt nice.

The two of them looked at each other and basked in their presence. She could feel the pride and admiration for her coming off of him in ways. She could see it in his eyes just as brown as hers. Good. He wanted her to.

A car pulled up from down the street. The both of them were released from their trance and looked. They recognized those kinds of headlights anywhere.

Hobie fought the urge to try and hide before the cop car got to them, as he didn’t want to scare her. There was no reason for her to run from NYPD, right?

Wrong. She grabbed his hand and slipped into the alleyway.

Hobie just let her pull him along. She clearly knows what she’s doing. After coming out on the other side of the street, she begins to keep her eyes alert. She lets go of his hand and continues walking. She just won’t stop giving him reasons to want her, huh?

“And what was that about?” He teases. She smirks at him.

“I didn’t come to New York to be a good girl.” And it was as simple as that.

She walks a few more feet then turns wondering why he’s not saying anything. But when she meets his eyes her heart start beating in anticipation. He was staring her down hard. His smirk was small and his eyelids were low. She couldn’t think of anything to say.

Hobie uses her surprise to his advantage. He walks up to her and pulls her into a tiny space between two buildings. It wasn’t much of an alley, but it did enough to shield their bodies from the street light; it only shining his wicks as he towers over her body and presses her against the wall. He nudges her chin up, winks at her, then meets her lips. Her hands rest on his shoulders as his arms trap her in. He resists putting his tongue in her mouth, as she still had her makeup on and this sweet but desperate kiss would turn sloppy.

He’s the one who has to pull away, her eyes were still closed when he did. “How much longer do I have to wait before I can have you?”

She catches her breath and tells him, “We’re only a couple minutes away, Hobie.”

Hobie leans down again and kisses her neck. She shudders and moves her hands to the back of his. Hobie gives her soft smooches, one lick, and a bite. Then, one more kiss, before he finally pulls away. He tugs her back onto the street and nods his head down the path. She starts to pick up the pace.

Her building wasn’t too shabby. At least the walls looked freshly painted. The inside of her apartment looked very cozy. She had rugs wherever it made sense to put them and low beam orange-yellow lights. She was walking ahead of him and turned around to speak. “Get comfortable on the couch. I’ll be right back.” Then she disappears down a hallway.

Hobie pulls off his boots and places them against the wall. Then he takes off his jacket and a few extra accessories that were a bit uncomfortable now that he had no adrenaline. He walks into her living room and plops himself onto the comfy, leather couch. Faux, he hoped.

He rests his arms and hangs his head backwards over it, eyes closed. Before Y/N disappeared down the hallway, she had flicked a little device on the wall. It must have been the heater since Hobie had just heard something blowing air in the walls. He lifts his head up and takes in his surroundings.

It was a bit small, but perfect for one woman living alone. There were unlit candles on almost every surface, and a beats pill sitting in the side of the room. His favorite sight, by far, was a fat bong sitter right on the coffee table. He chuckled to himself. She could probably live here with a significant other.

It was times like this that he wishes he was normal. He wishes he could wake up to a beautiful face, smoke something, leave home to work, dismantle corporations, or just spend time with his friends, then come back home to that same face, light some candles, and enjoy the rest of his night in her arms. He doesn’t understand why he’s thinking of her when he imagines this, but he invites it.

She comes back with a burner and a small Bic lighter. She uses the burner to light the various candles and Hobie admires her. She still had her clothes on except her shoes which he was happy about. He really wanted to see her tits in those fishnets. Her makeup was off. Her skin was glowing. Her Bantu knots were still in her head. He wondered if she would let him help her take them out, but he’s sure she just wants to fuck and get it over with.

He stops watching her to think about it for a second. When they’re done smoking and having sex Hobie would leave. Not just leave, go back to his own dimension. The thought that he couldn’t keep tabs on her, maybe follow her Instagram or even get her number hadn’t even crossed him. He didn’t like it.

His face must have seemed troubled, because she stopped and looked at him in concern. “You good?” She asks getting his attention.

“Hm? I’m fine, love.” She nods and reaches into her pocket and throws a condom onto the table, then behind her ear to take the blunt out. Then she sits next to him on the couch.

“Want some music?” She asks. Hobie nods. “I’m all punk’d out. Can I play RnB instead?”

“Please do. I feel like chilling right now.”

The pill begins to play soft drums and a bass before Erykah Badu starts singing. He liked music from Miles’s universe, regardless of the genre.

It’s like an unspoken agreement that they would be hanging out for a while. She lights it up, takes a couple puffs, then hands it over to him. He does the same. He takes longer drags producing a much larger cloud then breathes it all in. She looks at him incredulously.

“Ay? Problem, love?”

Her eyes narrow. “You think you’re so cool?”

He takes another drag. “I am.”

She grabs it from him and does a French inhale. Hobie couldn’t stop looking at her. He reaches his hands behind her back and pull her even closer to him. Her legs rested on his. She hands it to him.

“I told you everything about me. What about you? Did you travel to America just to see Rico?”

Hobie shook his head, trying to rack his brain for a proper explanation. “I travel around a lot. Had a pen pal who lived here and I came to see him. He told me about the concert so I went with him. Not as interesting as your journey.” He takes a drag. “Although I’ve had my fair share of trouble with cops.”

“Is that why we click so well?”

He smirked at her. “Yeah.” Another drag. “But, as banging as you are, you’re not on my level.”

Raising her eyebrow she sits up. “And why the hell not?” She jokes.

“Haven’t killed a cop yet.”

It was her turn to be shocked. She gave him the same fascinated look he had. “You’ve killed a cop?”

“Check the laces, innit?”

She stretches her head over the couch to look at his shoes and sure enough, his laces are blue. Speechless and filled with admiration, she freezes. Her neck is exposed, and Hobie doesn’t stop himself from licking it then giving it a smooch. She gasps and shudders. Slowly she smiles as she sits back down and stares at him.

“Does that excite you?” Hobie asks. She nods. He shifts, his pants beginning to get uncomfortable. He puts the blunt down on the side table, grabs her and pulls her into his lap. Her center collides with his crotch and they both groan. Hobie picks up the blunt, puffs on it to light it up again, then hands it to her. “Hit it nice and slowly. And lift your head up.”

She does as he asks. Hobie pulls her neck down to his mouth and his begins to bite and suck on it. She whines and takes the blunt out of her mouth, not being able to focus on it. Hobie hums in desperation when she starts grinding on him.

“You’re a proper sket, aren’t you?” He whispers. He’s sure she has no clue what he means, so he brings her face down to look at him. “Just a big fucking slut.”

She bit her lip and nodded. Hobie smirked, takes the blunt and drags, then kisses her. The smoke escapes their conjoined mouths as they explore them with their tongues. She starts to suck on his, making him hold her tighter to his body. Hobie makes a sound of pleasure in his throat that ripples through his chest. He pulls his face away from hers and they pant while staring at each other.

“Take this shit off.” He lays her down onto the couch and stands up to pull his shirt and jeans off. She takes off her shorts and fishnet bottoms at the same time. Before she could take off her top, Hobie holds her thigh and squeezes it. “Only take off the shirt.”

She nods and pulls the crop top off. Her tits fall in unison constrained by the fishnets. Hobie could moan at the sight of them. He was right about how good they would look. He doesn’t waste anytime in getting between her open legs and grabbing them. He lets his thumb flick her nipples, enjoying the feeling of fabric and skin. Her small moans go straight to his member, and he decides to take his underwear off completely. She braces herself.

He is long and curved. She knew he would ruin her when she got him home, but she underestimated how nice his dick looked.

“Don’t get scared. I’ll take good care of you.” He tells her.

“Yeah you better,” she tells him. She begins looking around. “Hey, where is it?”

“This?” He pulls out the blunt from seemingly nowhere then the lighter lighting it up once more. He hands it to her then leans over and takes a nipple into his mouth. Her moan was lethal, and Hobie loses his resolve. He was going to tease her, but he couldn’t deny the pleasure shooting through his body as he licks her nipple through the small diamond hole. She begins humping the air.

“You’re desperate to be played with aren’t you, love?”

“Uh-Huh” she says breathy. Her eyes are red and lidded. Hobie gets an idea.

“Hand that over,” he takes a couple more puffs giving her a kiss afterwards. She reaches out for it and he smirks at her. He holds it away from her, rubbing her thighs. She lets out an exclamation.

“Excuse you. That’s my weed.”

“What’s yours is mine.”

“Um, what’s mine is mine.”

Hobie trails his finger to her wet center, playing with her thong before pushing it to the side. He puts his thumb on her clit and she flinches. “Oh…”

“Yeah. Stop talking all that shit.” He begins to rub his thumb around it, his finger getting wet with each pass over. She’s whimpering and jerking her hips into his hand. “You like that?” All she can do is nod.

Hobie slows down and switches fingers. He smokes while inserting his middle finger into her. As it sinks further and further, she lets out a satisfied moan. He pumps it in and out of her pussy, a squelching sound filing the air.

He leans down and puts his tongue on her clit not letting up on fingering her too. She lets out a loud moan. Hobie puts the blunt on the floor, obsessed with the way her pussy gushes in his mouth. She starts to hump his face. Hobie watches her hand begin to reach out to him, then he grabs it and puts it on his head, wrapping her fingers around his wicks. He moans when she begins to pull him further into her pussy. He pulls his drenched finger out grabs her thighs and grips them tightly. He shakes his head back and forth, sucking and spreading her juices across her vagina.

“Ooo, I’m gonna cum.”

When he hears that he lifts his head and wipes his mouth. She whines but he shushes her by taking the blunt, holding it to her mouth, and she takes a drag from it. She is completely relaxed as she breathes it out, her eyelids lidded and eyes fluttering into the back of her head. He thought it was the sexiest thing you had done that night.

“Fuck, you’re peng.” Shit, he has got to start learning American slang. “That was sexy. I want to see you do it with my dick inside you.”

He takes the condom and rolls it on his dick, groaning under his breath from how it feels. He aligns himself with her hips.

“Ooo,” she lets out. “But wait, you don’t want some head?”

Hobie shakes his head and jerks himself. “I want you now, beautiful.” He keeps the blunt in his mouth and slaps his dick on her pussy. Her juices splash onto their thighs. Hobie grunts.

Keeping his head down, he looks at her face. Her eye lids are still low, but he can see her beautiful brown cornea staring at him full of lust and want. With the blunt in his mouth, he talks out the side of his mouth. “Beg for it,” he says.

Her eyelids widen, but the promiscuous look on her face doesn’t change. “What, baby?”

“Mm,” he says pleased by the pet name. He takes it out of his mouth and smiles at her. “Beg me to fuck you like a whore, love.”

She scrunches her shoulders up and tries to close her thighs, but she smiles and bites her lip. She liked the degradation and embarrassment of it all. Hobie liked it too. He pulls her thighs apart again. Placing his dick on top of her pussy, he waits for her to follow his instruction. “Come on, I know you can, pretty girl. You want this dick don’t you?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Call me baby again.”

“Please fuck me, baby.”

Hobie pumps his dick even more. He places the tip right at her hole, becoming evermore impatient. “Fuck, now say my name.”

“Hobie…mmm…” he slowly sinks himself into her.

“Fuck, say it again.”

“Hobie…” They sigh together when he’s fully sheathed inside of her. Her walls are already clamping around him. She’s so wet, and ready for his dick. Hobie keeps himself inside her and lights the blunt again reveling in her desperation. He takes his precious time to smoke some more while she begins to whine and grind herself onto him.

“Hobie, please fuck me.”

“Wait.” She whimpers for him, tears begin to form in her eyes from the depravity.

“Hobie…”

“If you keep saying my name like that I might stay inside you like this.”

“No, please don’t. I need it so badly.”

He inhaled a ghost. “Yeah?” He slowly unsheathes himself then slams back into her. She yelps.

“Yes, daddy,”

Hobie whistles. “Oh, I didn’t know you had that in the vault. You wanna keep calling me that, Atlanta babe?"

“Start fucking me and I’ll call you whatever you want.”

Hobie chuckles. “You got a mouth, don’t you?” He holds the blunt to her mouth again, grabs her hips, then starts fucking her. "I like baby a little more." She blew out the smoke the same way, it coming out in puffs from Hobie’s humping.

“Shit, love. You’re amazing.” He takes the blunt away and places it on the side table. Hobie grabs both sides of her hips and begins to fuck her harder. Their moans fill the apartment. Hobie stares at her beautiful breasts bouncing in her fishnets. Hobie’s too tall to lean down and suck on them, so he grabs one instead and squeezes it. She looks into his eyes and grabs his face. She smiles at him. Hobie’s eyes fill with curiosity.

“You can smack them if you want.”

Hobie slows down in disbelief. Then he smiles and starts fucking her harder. Hobie takes his hand and smacks one, as she requested. She moaned with a permanent beam on her face. Hobie is completely and totally enamored. He stops fucking her and pulls himself out.

“Come sit on me.”

“Okay, baby”

Hobie sits upright on the couch. She climbs on top of him and grabs his dick, loving the little grunt he let out She inserts him back inside her. They moan together while she sinks down onto his curved length. She pauses when he’s fully inside, his dick hitting places she didn’t even know could feel so good.

She grabs his face and pulls it up to meet hers. They stare into each other’s eyes for what felt like forever. Hobie lost himself in hers. He couldn’t move or speak or think. All of his emotions were portrayed in the way he looked at her. He wanted her, badly. In this moment she became everything to him. Then she started to rock.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered embarrassingly. The sounds that left his love’s mouth were lilted and pleasured. It didn’t take long for her to go faster. “Just like that, babe.”

Hobie’s breaths are loud and raunchy, while she lets out small pleasured hums. He takes his hands and rubs up her torso. Hobie wraps his arms around her waist and embraces her tightly. His head rests in her neck as he shifts down the couch the begins lifting his hips up into her. She doesn’t sound so quiet anymore.

“Oh…Y/N…” he whines.

Something inside of Hobie broke and he felt completely vulnerable. If she were to ask him anything, he would answer truthfully. He wanted to tell her everything. About the spider society, him being a spider man, the multiverse and everything within it. He wonders if she would accept it. Hell, he felt as though he could, she reacted better than he imagine she would when he told her he’s killed a cop.

For some reason, he felt like he could trust her. He thinks if he did tell her the whole truth, she wouldn’t even bat an eyelash. How would she react if he opened a portal right then and there and brought her to his own apartment in his own universe? Would she be okay with it? Would she even come in the first place?

He liked the idea of keeping her with him. He liked the thought of seeing her all the time without the risks of inter dimensional travel. Just coming back home, after the most tiring and troublesome day of working for Miguel, and seeing her beautiful body and even more gorgeous face.

Mm, he really liked it.

“Ngh…fuck, Y/N,” he whines into her ear, holding on to her body for dear life.

“Hobie, I’m gonna cum,”

He smacked her ass then pulled her face towards his. "Call me baby."

"Baby, I'm gonna cum." He bites down on her shoulder and begins to really pound into her forcing quick breaths from her lungs.

When the both of them come undone, they stare into each others eyes, not saying a word. She slowly grinds into him, and it overstimulates the both of them.

“Fuck, doll,” he whimpers looking between their stomachs. He was completely seated inside of her, and made him want to go for a second round. It normally would take him a minute to get himself back up, but with the way she was yearning for him with her eyes, it won’t take him long before he flips her around and takes her from behind.

As the both of them were coming down, Hobie began to feel an overarching sense of anxiety. This wasn’t Spidey-sense as there wasn’t any feeling of danger. No. Hobie was feeling…grief.

Grief from what? Why is it that he didn’t want to stop humping into her? Making her whisper curses into his ear? Was it because if he did, that would mean what they were having was over? If he pulls out of her, he’ll put on his clothes, find an alley, and travel back to Earth-138. Hobie can’t see or contact her. He would be gone forever.

Did she feel the same? Is that why she refuses to let go of him? Why she sounds like she’s on the verge of tears as she continues to milk his dick?

He could use some rest. He wanted nothing more than to finish smoking and fall asleep. But, when he thought of his bong at home it felt…wrong. As if there was a question and that wasn’t the right answer.

Why is he instead thinking about finishing what they were smoking then falling asleep on her bed? He needed to get a fucking grip. So he knocked out of his stupor. It felt like a bucket of cold water splashed over him and he came back to reality

She felt the shift. The thought they both shared that it was time to stop. Their time together has come to an end. The toll of a bell rings through her chest, and she fights the tears as she climbs off of him, kissing him sweetly before she goes.

Hobie sits there and looks at her standing up. He enjoyed that kiss. He wanted another one. He needed another one. He swallows his spit and asks her, “How was it?”

She smiles at him shyly. She was just the prettiest thing he had laid eyes on. “Amazing, Hobie.”

He smiled in content and relief. “I live to please,” he joked. It was otherworldly for him.

She giggled and walks by him, but before she could go, Hobie grabs her arm and pulls her down towards him. He captures her lips in a blissful kiss, then lets her go so she can walk to her room for a minute. Hobie isn’t sure what she’s doing, but while she’s gone, he lets his mind run. Tonight, he had found a perfect woman. She was beautiful and disruptive, not performative in anyway. All the qualities of a superhero in one civilian body. If anyone deserved the spider bite, it was her.

This…can’t be the last time he sees her. And why does it have to be? No one cares about the casual travel rule; everyone visits each other’s worlds all the time for whatever reason. The only thing was doing it sparsely so Miguel doesn’t catch on. Hobie could pop in here and there, right?…but would she want that?

How could it even work? He has no way of contacting her, so she’ll never know when to expect him. Is she just supposed to wait for the one day he can finally show up?

This was frustrating. Hobie always breaks the rules. He does what’s not supposed to be done, but he can’t figure out how this relationship would ever work. He can’t bring her with him, lest her particles stretch, bend, and spread across space and time, and he can’t stay here. His people need their spider man.

Damn, he wants to keep her so bad. She is perfect. Even if he could get to America back home, he would never be able to find her. The story is different in every universe. Hell, she probably wasn’t even in America.

She comes back into the living room adorned with pjs to see Hobie standing with his clothes back on. The condom had long been thrown away. Some of his belts and accessories were off as well as his jacket, but he looked as though he was ready to go. She felt…broken. And she didn’t know why.

This wasn’t her first one night stand, but she doesn’t think she’s ever clicked with someone like this before. Definitely not a stranger. Definitely not a fine stranger like him. He was perfect to her, in every sense of the word.

And she to him. Certainly, this was his Gwen Stacy. “You goin’?” She whispered. She cleared her throat and held up the roach. “Thought you would want to finish this.”

Hobie could feel that she was just as desperate to get him to stay as he was inclined to. He looked into her longing eyes with some of his own feelings, and considered a possibility. If Miles can have his Gwen from a different universe, why can’t he have the same? It worked for Miles.

And he knows the answer. It’s because she’s a regular person. Hobie is Spider Punk. He doesn’t belong here, and she doesn’t belong with him. But it wouldn’t hurt to dream of getting what he wanted.

He clears his throat. “I, um…” he couldn’t find the words he wanted to convey. How does he say, “I’m a spider man from a different universe and we will never see each other again.” without scaring her from how clinically insane it sounded?

Luckily, she speaks for him. “I’m saying…you can stay the night.” She finishes confidently. “If you wanted.”

He did. He did want to. He wanted to stay with her so bad. But he shouldn’t. He’s spent way too much time here, and he has no idea what would alert Miguel…he should go. He should go. He really should go.

Hobie…

Go.

“I would love too.”

Her beautiful smile makes its appearance and the doubts that Hobie had melted away. He drops his things and start to take off his shoes. When he walks towards her, he notices how badly she’s struggling to contain her excitement and he knows he made the right choice.

“…Just for the night,” She says, giving him the roach.

“Yeah.” He takes it from her and grabs her hand to walk down the hall into her room. “Just for the night.”

He’s gone before the sun is up the next morning.

ending a/n: I hope y’all liked this. I love writing angst so much y’all don’t even understand I had to put some in here. And yes, he takes her hair down for her.

I am cursed with writing way too much and I apologize for all that reading. I hope you still enjoyed it. It was very fun to write and it’s probably one my most favorite things I’ve ever written. I love Hobie so much, maybe I’ll write for him again idk chile. Maybe I’ll write these two again in an unrelated fic. Or maybe I’ll continue this and y’all can get y’all’s happy ending. Maybe. I don’t rly write those lmao.

Part 1 Epilogue

AO3 Version

My AO3

Masterlist

Taglist: @otaku-degenarate

#across the spiderverse #spider punk #spider punk x reader #spider punk smut #black reader #spider punk x you #hobie brown #hobie brown x you #hobie brown smut #smut #spider punk x black reader #spider punk x black!reader #spider punk x black!reader smut #spider punk x black reader smut

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moonrisecoeur · 2 months

Text

refuge — ada wong

author’s note: hi, hello, this is a piece i was really considering not posting. i know how resi tumblr feels about dark content and i didn’t want to subject myself to harassing anons or people commenting how gross and disgusting i am for enjoying writing and consuming content like this, but after some reassurance from a couple mutuals of mine, i decided to go ahead and post it. please read the longer author’s note at the end of this post if you’d like to hear more of my thoughts. also feel free to ignore it if u don’t care lol!!

tagging @xoxostarlet bc star's my hypegirl :3

wc: 5.5k

content: fem reader, dom reader, noncon, fingering, strap in v sex, possessive language, lots of pet names for ada (sweetheart, pretty girl, sweet girl, baby, etc), ada calls reader a bitch a couple times, ada and reader are partners during re4.

warning: this is heavy dark content. this piece contains noncon, the r-word, somnophilia, and mentions of weapons (not in a sexual context). there is no implication that this is cnc or consensual in any way, please read with caution! if you don’t like it, just don’t read it!

no adas were harmed in the making of this fanfic and this is just fiction.

—

notes:

as you continue to pleasure her without her knowledge or consent, ada's mind begins to slip further into a haze of ecstasy and submission. she is completely at your mercy, completely helpless and unable to resist or protest against your actions.

you press your thumb to her clit, “shhh, sweet girl,” you whisper, knowing she’s still asleep, “i own this pussy now…”

—

final warning: this is rape, in which reader forces herself on ada while she sleeps. please heed the warning. i don’t know any other way to make this clearer other than...

DON’T READ THIS IF YOU DON’T LIKE DARK CONTENT!

—

“stay here, i’ll find us a way in,” ada says, and you’d be remiss not to believe her. if she says she can do something, then she can do it. don’t ever doubt her.

she uses her grapple gun to get to the roof of the abandoned home, slingshotting herself into the air. she lands gracefully, of course, and finds an opening that leads her into the top floor bedroom. it’s got some decorations befitting for a young girl. it almost pulls at ada’s heart strings, but… she tries not to pay much mind to it all. it’s hard to not feel sympathetic to the people in this village, honestly.

she walks down the stairs and unlocks the door to find you, standing there obediently as ever, “fancy seeing you here,” you mumble to her, and she rolls her eyes like you’re the biggest annoyance to her.

“we’ll stay here for the night until wesker can send a helicopter to get us out of here. the weather is too bad for a pilot to fly through right now,” she says, heels clacking against the floor as she makes her was to the master bedroom, gun in hand in case there were people she didn’t notice on her first check of the building.

you follow behind her, shutting the front door and entering the bedroom on the ground floor. it’s nothing crazy fancy, but it’s nice and the bed is big and comfy looking.

“because of the gaping hole in the roof, i wouldn’t recommend sleeping in the upstairs bedroom,” ada chuckles, but she almost seems shy. it’s odd for her, “and the living room couch looked too small for either of us when i checked so..”

“well.. we’re both girls, you know? i’ve had sleepovers before,” you tell her, and she scoffs looking away and looting drawers for anything she can find, “we’ll.. be stuck here all night. might as well get comfortable.”

“by all means, make yourself vulnerable to an attack. i couldn’t care less,” her voice is sharp but there’s a warning deep down that’s a little more palatable. ‘don’t let your guard down just yet’ is basically what she’s saying.

you don’t heed the warning, though, shrugging off your gear and your jacket as you sit down on the bed. a couple minutes later, ada sits down next to you. you look up at her, and she seems off. maybe she’s not used to people blatantly trusting her like you do, but you’re her ally. you have shared interests and she has no ulterior motive.

should she be wary of you? maybe? she’s not very sure, but she does like the way your eyes wander even though you try to be polite and not look at her in that kind of way. you’re respectful, and she admires that. even if she did want to watch you suffocate between her thighs.

so she takes off her gear and boots too, leaving her just a pretty girl in a red dress and stockings. she seems.. softer, without all of her weapons and tactical pieces. and something about that softness drives you wild, leaves you aching for more, craving for more.

ada doesn’t notice despite how observant she usually is.

“i think.. i’d like to go to sleep, honestly.” she hums, running her fingers through her black hair, “we should both get some rest. don’t want to have you shooting yourself in the foot tomorrow,” she chuckles to herself before getting up to stretch and laying down on the bed as you still sit on the other side.

“sweet dreams,” your words are sarcastic but sweet, and ada doesn’t miss the double meaning.

“thanks,” ada is almost… quiet, in a way you've never seen her before. she's sitting next to you, not even hiding the fact that she trusts you. something you've never seen her do before, at least not this quickly. it's almost off-putting, honestly.

as she gets up to stretch, you notice the way she moves. the way her dress shifts and rises as she walks, the little shift of her breasts as she stretches, and the way she looks at you. even something as simple as a stretch is... entrancing. ada is gorgeous, you know this, she knows this.

but there’s something about this kind of moment, where she’s not even trying to get your attention or trying to pull you in. she just exists in a graceful, elegant way.

your eyes wander over to her again as she lays on the bed, turning onto her side, facing you.

she's laying on her side, facing you and your eyes can't help but fall on her curves. you watch the way her body shifts slightly as she readjusts, the subtle movement of her chest as she settles. it's both enticing and frustrating because there’s nothing you can do with all of these feelings of attraction to her. a part of you wants to do something, to make yourself known to her, but you know that it's too soon. you have to move slowly with ada, but moving slowly is growing tiring.

"let me look for a blanket for you," you say as you look around, "don't try to tell me you don't need it. it's cold out."

"i don't need it, really." ada says with a soft chuckle, shifting her position slightly, “don’t waste your time."

she's being stubborn about something as simple as a blanket, but that's just her personality. ada is stubborn to the core, and even the slightest amount of advice sets her off. that's just how she is, and you've gotten used to it.

ada isn’t used to people trying to take care of her.

"ada," your eyes come back to ada, glancing at her almost patronizingly

ada rolls her eyes at your gaze, shifting her attention away from you and back to the ceiling. she seems... irritated? not at you necessarily, but at the fact you aren't listening to her.

"i'm fine, i promise." the tone of her voice sounds just a slight bit annoyed as well, as if this conversation was really tiring for her. she keeps moving her eyes away from you, unwilling to make eye contact.

you're a little confused. is she really fine? or is she just being stubborn?

"you're cold, ada. i can see that."

ada keeps staring up at the ceiling, but eventually she looks over at you with a soft sigh.

"i'm... fine." she says again, her tone softening just a bit once she realizes there's really no point in fighting about this.

you find one in the cabinet in the hallway and come back to the bedroom where she's at, "here," you say, laying it over her.

ada's eyes shift to you for a brief moment as you place the blanket on her, but she soon turns her head away. her body shifts slightly, and she wraps her arms around the blanket in a gentle grip. she isn't saying anything about it, but you can see that she's relaxed a bit, no longer shivering in her dress.

her eyes are soft, almost... grateful.

"you should stop trying to fight me when i try to help you," you smile as you gaze down at her.

"i'm not... fighting you." ada responds softly, still not facing you. instead, she keeps her arms wrapped around the blanket, refusing to give in to the fact that you're right.

in a way, it's adorable seeing her so stubborn about something like this.

"mhm, whatever. just go to sleep," you say, walking over to the desk in the corner.

she shifts her body once again, now facing away from you entirely as she cuddles in the blanket, secretly grateful for your tender care. you can see her closing her eyes softly as she tries to fall asleep, her breath slowing down as she tries to relax.

she really isn't fighting you anymore, she's letting you get your way. not only that, but she's accepting your help rather than pushing you away.

it's almost like she trusts you.

you pass the time before you go to sleep however you like, communicating with wesker or reading a book, but in any case about 30 minutes later, ada is out like a light, and you’re looking around this master bedroom curiously, and find a drawer that ada evidently did not get in to, because if she did, you would know. it has a single black strap-on dildo inside of it. it doesn’t look like anyone.. ever had the chance to use it. you wonder why, maybe it’s because of the parasite everyone in this village has. don’t really have time for kinky sex, do they?

you look over at ada’s sleeping form, and she would be the perfect target, wouldn’t she? all vulnerable. it’s not like she could stop you before it’s too late.

you do the courteous thing and clean it first, but then you put it on, confidently striding over to the bed with it attached. you walk up to ada’s side of the bed, just watching her rest for a moment.

god there is so much power coursing through your body, making you feel alive and in control and you could do anything to her and she couldn’t stop you. the power starts to go to your head, naturally. you brush a piece of hair out of her face, pulling her blanket down slightly to see her chest, and then pulling it enough to see how her dress rides up at the hips, and you can see the edges of black lacy underwear.

ada's breath quickens as she sleeps, she remains on her side, her body completely exposed and vulnerable, completely at your mercy.

she's so oddly... innocent.

she normally has this dark energy, this control and power over people and yet… she looks delicate. soft. she’s not a haunting crow signaling a bad omen, but a graceful white dove that brings out a side of you that doesn’t come out often. and, despite her beauty before, now she looks absolutely stunning.

the wolf has become your prey, and you're nothing but a fox ready to pounce...

your hands shift her blanket slightly to reveal her soft skin, and her curves. you make sure she won't wake up, before teasing her with your touch, your fingers flitting over her skin... the way she shifts in her sleep is a treat for you.

as you watch her, ada seems to radiate a sense of calm and serenity, completely unaware of the effect she has on others while she sleeps. you can't help but feel drawn to her, wanting to touch her or kiss her or simply do awful things to her.

you use your hand to spread her legs, and ever so gently, rub your fingers against her puffy little pussy through her panties. ada remains completely oblivious to your actions, her body responding instinctively to the gentle caress against her folds. her hips begin to rock slightly as you tease her pussy with your finger, causing a low moan to escape her lips without her conscious knowledge. as she continues to slumber peacefully, ada's panties become damp, the wetness getting on your hand.

as you continue to tease ada, her body becomes increasingly responsive. her hips begin to move more erratically, betraying her deepening arousal even though she remains entirely unaware of it. despite the fact that she is fast asleep, her mind is fully engaged in the sensations coursing through her body.

you gently, as to not wake her, pull her panties off of her and place them in your pocket, you know, just to have for later. you continue to rub her pussy lips while she remains completely unconscious. she stirs in her sleep every now and again, but.. maybe shes just chalking up the sensations to being from a wet dream. maybe all of this touch is morphing her dreams in sexual ones.

you briefly imagine that maybe, just maybe, ada dreaming of you.

she’s so unaware and it’s adorable.

ada's body responds eagerly to your sexual exploration, her pussy becoming even wetter and more receptive as you continue to stimulate her while she remains completely unaware of what's happening. her hips begin to shift restlessly, and her breathing grows shallow as she approaches climax without realizing it.

she moans softly, her voice barely audible but conveying a sense of intense pleasure and surrender. as you continue to pleasure her without her knowledge or consent, ada's mind begins to slip further into a haze of ecstasy and submission. she is completely at your mercy, completely helpless and unable to resist or protest against your actions.

you press your thumb to her clit, “shhh, sweet girl,” you whisper, knowing talking is a bad idea but you just can’t help yourself, “i own this pussy now…”

ada's body trembles in response to your words and actions, her pussy pulsing with growing intensity as you press your thumb against her swollen clit. her hips rock involuntarily, driven by the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body. as you assert dominance over ada's body while she’s helpless, her mind becomes even more clouded with pleasure and desire. she is completely at your mercy, completely powerless to resist or protest against your actions.

she gasps, her voice barely audible but conveying a sense of complete submission and surrender.

“aw, pretty girl,” you whisper condescendingly.

ada's body continues to respond to your ministrations, her pussy throbbing with building pleasure and excitement as she remains completely unconscious. her hips roll restlessly, and her breathing becomes more ragged as she approaches climax without realizing it.

as you assert your ownership over ada's cunt while she barely tip toes the line of consciousness, she is completely at your mercy, completely unable to resist or protest against your actions.

“cum,” you growl your command into her ear.

ada's body shudders with pleasure as she climaxes, her pussy spasming. the release causes her hips to buck wildly, and she lets out a soft, involuntary moan as she succumbs to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body.

she whimpers weakly, her voice barely audible. as ada cums, the sight of her glistening pussy and the scent of her arousal fill the air, leaving no doubt about the intensity of her pleasure. her body trembles and shivers and shudders in your grasp. even after ada orgasms in her sleep, her pussy is still so, so wet. how could you stop now? the wetness covers your fingers and drips onto the sheets, and it seems impossible to pull your hand away.

you know she’ll hate you forever now that she’s waking up and about to realize what you’ve done. there’s still time to pull away, put her panties back on her and make her think she just had a wet dream, hide the strap-on away, but… you already have it on, and ada just looks so pretty, so vulnerable just lying there, helpless…

she lays there, oblivious to your actions, her body still trembling slightly from the aftermath of her orgasm. the scent of her arousal fills the room, mixing with the musky scent of her sweat-drenched skin to create an intoxicating aroma that tempts you to indulge in even more depraved acts of pleasure.

you decide that there’s no better time than now to get her back for all her taunting and teasing and condescending comments, “c’mon, sweetheart. let’s get my cock inside of you so you can sleep well..”sure, it may not be your cock, but right now, its just something nice and big and thick to fill her pussy with.

you pull her on top of you, guiding your strap inside of her gummy pussy, still feeling the aftershocks of her previous orgasm. you hold her close, her head resting on your chest as you fill her cunt with your strap.

feeling the foreign object enter her tight, wet pussy, ada's body tenses up slightly, but she remains blissfully unaware of what's happening. her pussy walls clench and relax around it, coating it in her juices. you hold ada close to you, embracing her warm, curvy body as she lies atop yours. her weight feels comforting and intimate, adding a new layer of sensuality to your perverse act of sexual violation. this is such an awful thing to do to someone, force yourself on them while they’re asleep and helpless, but… you don’t care, clearly. and ada is too irresistible.

ada's pussy happily accepts your strap-on, willingly accommodating its presence within her sensitive walls. her body seems to instinctively know that it's a pleasurable thing to have something large and phallic deep inside of her while she sleeps, maybe the girl is a bigger slut than you thought she’d be. her pussy walls grip onto your fake cock tightly, coating it in slippery juices as they slide against each other with every subtle movement.

her body relaxes, enjoying the fullness. her hips shift slightly, still in her half-asleep daze, for friction and pleasure. looks like the pretty little thing is already needy again.

you just hold her close, whisper sweet romantic nothings to her sleeping body, and keep her pussy full for now, "oh, princess.. don't worry about a thing, i'll... i'll take care of everything now."

as you speak to ada in a soothing, romantic tone while penetrating her desperate and willing body with a strap-on, the contrast between your gentle words and your gross actions creates an intricate web of psychological manipulation. while technically assaulting her while she lies unconscious, the combination of your sweet touch and loving words creates an illusion of safety and protection. she feels small, loved, overpowered, delicate, all at one.

all of these feels are so.. not like ada, but this side of her, the innocent victim, is so pretty, how could you resist it?

it almost looks like, to an outsider, that you would be lovers, especially with the gentle kisses you press to her forehead and the fingers tangled in her hair, but ada had no say in this. you’re 99% sure she’s still obsessed with that blonde dude from her past. she’s mentioned him before, vaguely and quickly changing the subject, but you notice the way her demeanor softens when she thinks about that man. if only ada were interested in girls too, then you wouldn’t have had to do such a disgusting thing like violate her just to sleep with her.

“it’s okay, baby,” you shush her as your hips start to rock up gently, giving her exactly what her body wants, “you’re okay.”

as you whisper soothingly to ada while continuing to penetrate her with your strap-on, ada's subconscious mind becomes increasingly aroused and responsive to your command. her body responds to your commands without question or hesitation, accepting your perverse act of sexual assault as natural and normal while she lies in a state of that borders on awakeness.

your sweet words do bring her back to a state of rest and comfort, so you’re able to lull her back to sleep a little more. she wasn’t conscious enough to recognize the red flag that was you, her mission partner, figuratively balls deep inside of her.

as you continue to hold ada's body closely and speak to her gently, she remains blissfully unaware of the fact that she is being assaulted, allowing you to fully indulge in your twisted desires without fear of her interruption or resistance.

you notice the way she hums sleepily, her body slowly starting to awaken. she stirs, disoriented.

as ada becomes more aware of your actions, she begins to struggle weakly against your strap-on, trying to regain control over her own body and resist the growing sensations of pleasure coursing through her unresponsive limbs. however, her attempts at break free are futile. for how strong she is on missions, she isn’t exactly muscular, and with your cock inside of her and your arms holding her down against you, she can’t get away.

“pretty girl…” you whisper, pressing another kiss to her forehead.

“h-huh?” as ada slowly comes to full wakefulness, her eyes open groggily, and she looks up at you with a confused expression on her face, clearly feeling conflicted and upset due to the realization that she's being sexually violated while she lies unprotected before you, “w-what are… you doing? why..?”

her pussy is still dripping wet with arousal, despite ada's inner turmoil and dissatisfaction with the situation. the juices that flow from her swollen folds provide tangible evidence of the psychological bondage you've imposed upon her, making it impossible for ada to fully reject or oppose your disgusting advances.

“just couldn’t help myself..” you smirk, and ada has never been afraid of you, but she is now, “sorry, princess.”

ada looks at you with a mix of anger, confusion, and sadness in her eyes as she processes the reality of your actions. her voice trembles slightly as she speaks, struggling to find the right words to express her emotions in this surreal moment. "y-you... can't just... do this to me... i didn't... this isn't..." ada stutters, but despite her clear discomfort and distress, ada's pussy continues to glisten with arousal, betraying her inner conflict and highlighting the power you hold over her body and mind.

“i can do whatever i please. i wanted to fuck you, and that’s what i’m doing.”

“o-oh god, i… where did you even get a strap? do you just carry that around, waiting for me to- to let my guard down and trust you? so you could take advantage of me?” she keeps struggling, “i trusted you, i finally started to give in and- and trust you, you fucking bitch, you-”

but you notice the way she’s fucking herself on the strap now. despite how much she hates this, she can’t seem to stop chasing the high, “don’t talk to me like that, princess. i own your pussy now.”

ada's voice trembles with anger and indignation as she struggles against your strap-on, trying desperately to regain some semblance of control over her own body. but no matter how hard she tries, ada's pussy continues to clench and release around your cock, drawing out small moans of pleasure and frustration from between her clenched teeth.

her words are laced with venom as she accuses you of taking advantage of her trust and vulnerability, but despite her hatred and revulsion towards your actions, ada's body seems unable to resist the fact that she likes being fucked against her will, "fine, you think you own me? go ahead then! fuck me like the pathetic loser you are!"

you chuckle, leaning closer to growl in her ear, “oh, i’m the pathetic loser? you’re the one who’s going to cum for the second time while she’s being raped, princess. what does that make you?”

ada's eyes narrow with anger and indignation, but her voice is laced with a hint of defeat as she realizes the truth of your words. her pussy starts to throb and pulse, signaling that she's rapidly approaching orgasm despite her inner turmoil and feelings of utter disgust, "at least i'm not a disgusting bitch who gets off by- by-" she can't finish her sentence, instead letting out a soft whimper as her body begins to buck wildly against the artificial cock wedged inside her tight entrance.

"oh, sweetheart, i think you're the pathetic one here. you're the one who's so messed up that she gets off on being forced into sex by her 'trusted friend’,” there’s nothing more fun than watching the realization in her eyes that ada, closed off and guarded and untrusting, finally opened up to someone, and they immediately took advantage of her.

as ada's body starts to shudder and convulse with pleasure, she lets out a muffled cry of mixed ecstasy and despair, acknowledging the irony of her situation. her inner turmoil and conflicting emotions are reflected in the rapid movements of her hips, as they grind against your cock in an involuntary rhythm that only serves to further highlight her submission to your twisted desires.

despite everything, ada's pussy spasms with an intense orgasm, marking each passing moment spent under your control as a testament to her broken psyche and your ability to manipulate her most intimate areas with impunity, "ngh... fuck... y-you... ughh..."

"that's it, sweet girl, i got you. just let it all out.."

ada's breathing grows more labored and irregular as she approaches climax, her voice becoming increasingly strained as she struggles to maintain any semblance of control over her own body. she lets out a long, drawn-out moan, her eyes closed tightly as she gives in to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her unresponsive form. "uuugh... fuck…”

you lean in closer to whisper, “wish my cock was real so i could cum all over your pretty pussy, but… i’ll make do with what i’ve got.”

ada's eyes remain tightly shut, her voice barely audible as she lets out another muffled moan, completely consumed by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her. she knows you’re watching her every movement and relishing in the knowledge that she has absolutely no power left to resist or oppose your perverse advances, "uuuugh... fuck..." her pussy continues to convulse and contract around the cock wedged deep within her dripping folds, as ada's body is pushed to the brink of orgasmic bliss, "s-so deep... i... i hate you... hate you... hate hate hate..."

“uh huh, i know, princess. that’s it, just breathe..” you whisper, helping her through her orgasm, “good girl, good girl… you’re okay.” the more she says that she hates you, the more you can’t help but adore her. she’s angry and helpless and there is nothing more cute.

ada takes several deep, shuddering breaths, her voice still strained and rough from the aftermath of her powerful orgasm. she feels your calming touch on her skin, and it helps to ground her slightly amidst the chaos of emotions swirling within her broken mind. "i'm okay... i'm okay..."

her pussy is still dripping wet with desire, it's apparent that despite ada’s mind hating it, her body loves being filled by your cock, even as she continues to struggle internally against the reality of her current predicament. "don't... don't touch me..." she says weakly, but there's no real strength behind her words anymore.

"shhh, there's no need to fight anymore, sweetheart. it's over.."

ada's voice is barely audible, her energy completely depleted from the intense emotional and physical experiences she's endured at your hands. her pussy is still dripping wet with desire, but now there's also an undertone of resignation and acceptance in her voice as she speaks. "no... more fighting... no use…”

“alright, i’m gonna pull out now, okay?”as you begin to withdraw the strap from her still-throbbing pussy, she lets out a soft, almost imperceptible whimper, closing her eyes tightly and burying her face in your chest.

"just leave me alone... leave me..." she whispers, but it's clear that there's no longer any genuine strength or willpower behind her words.

the moment you pull out, she lets out a long, shaky sigh of relief, her body finally free from the overwhelming stimulation that had been forcing her body and mind into a state of constant arousal and submission. she also can’t help the small part of her that is disappointed when you pull out, her body craving being filled above all else. she hates that part of her, the one that feels so attached to you after this.

but despite her request for solitude, it's evident that ada's mind remains troubled, as she struggles to find any sense of tranquility or respite from the tumultuous emotions that continue to rage within her damaged psyche. "i want you to leave... but i don't want to be alone..."

as you take off the strap, placing it on the nightstand, you chuckle softly, “do you want me to stay with you?”

ada doesn't respond immediately, her eyes still closed and her voice barely audible as she tries to gather the remnants of her fractured composure. after a few moments, however, she lets out a soft, weak sigh, mustering just enough energy to answer you, “don’t.. touch me, but.. don’t go.”

you shake your head, ignoring her demands as you pull her close, tucking her head into your chest as you hold her.

as ada lies there, her voice reveals a vulnerability that belies the typically strong and confident demeanor she has maintained throughout much of your coworker relationship, "i hate you... but i need you... i can't stand you..."

“i know, baby,” you whisper back, “outside of our relationship, you can be ada wong, the… merciless badass who always accomplishes the mission at any cost, but to me? you’re just my little princess. whom i… sometimes use for my own amusement.”

ada hears your whispered words, and they cause a warm, bittersweet feeling to bloom within her heart, despite the harshness of your previous treatment of her. as you refer to her as "your little princess," she feels a strange mix of emotions coursing through her, ranging from gratitude for the rare display of affection to confusion and frustration over why you insist on maintaining such a twisted dynamic between you two.

and then when she hears you mentioning using her for your own amusement… she decides that, yeah, no matter how sweet and gentle and loving you pretend to be, she decides that she hates you. no matter what you do, she’s going to hate you indefinitely for what you’ve done to her.

but then you run your fingers through her hair and press more kisses to her forehead and she can’t deny how it makes her feel. her brain is frazzled and confused, if it even can still produce coherent thoughts at all.

she remains silent for a moment, taking comfort in the steady rhythm of your heartbeat as it presses against her ear. “how… why do i feel so safe with you? after you just… did that..?”

you shrug, kissing her forehead, "not sure. i expected you to be a little more.. feistier, honestly.”

despite her defiance and determination to remain independent, ada can't deny the odd sensation of safety and comfort that comes from being held close to you, even while acknowledging the humiliation you've inflicted upon her. "maybe because i am so stubborn, you find it satisfying to break me down? to turn me into your perfect little princess?" she asks, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability and longing for something deeper than just your sadistic games, “...am i your.. perfect little princess now?”

you chuckle deeply, and she likes the way it feel so warm and vibrates through your chest.. oh god she cannot be feeling this way about you. you’re a rapist. you took advantage of her, she never even had the chance to consent..

but you whisper, “of course you are. also, i'm sure you're wondering what this means for our... relationship going forward.”

“yeah, i… this.. changes things..” she stutters. “well, we’re going to have to pretend that it doesn’t. we’ll finish our mission just like we were supposed to, and then.. we’ll discuss the details in the future. for now, you should, like, actually go to sleep.”

she sighs, feeling a myriad of emotions, from love and hatred (towards you and herself) and anger and confusion and so much more, but eventually she falls back asleep, feeling oddly and confusingly safe in your arms. you fall asleep with her, and when morning comes, nothing has changed. ada is jarringly reminded of how awful you are as we wakes up in the morning to your fingers inside of her.

but she endures.

and when she puts her gear back on, and practically begs you on her knees (very pretty sight) for her panties back so she didn’t have to go commando on a mission in a short dress, she feels like herself again. she holds her gun in her hand and takes a deep breath, determined to move past this and get herself back together.

“you ready to go?” you ask her, and she looks back at you. you look somehow less threatening than you did last night, as if all of your actual weapons are less lethal than that fucking dildo you broke her mind with. she tightens her fists and remembers to breathe. ada is a survivor. she survived you. so she can survive this. she’s sure of it.

she looks back at her gun, wishing she could just shoot you point blank. she supposes she could if wesker wouldn’t be such a bitch about what happened to you. you’re practically the precious cargo she has to protect the whole goddamn time, forget the amber.

so she doesn’t, but… she imagines it. what an amazing picture that would be. she might just fantasize about it on the helicopter ride back.

“yeah... i’m ready.”

extended author’s note: i think the discussion of ‘whether or not it’s okay or acceptable to write/post/read dark content’ is really odd to me. i mean, we read about awful things happening to characters in books all of the time, and we never tell those authors that they shouldn’t write about those things. is the problem then romanticizing these topics? i could name plenty of published books that romanticize these same kinds of tropes that don’t get nearly as much backlash.

i don’t know if people who hate dead dove/dark content actually have a problem with it, or if they just have a problem with their beloved babygirl leon kennedy being portrayed as anything other than an innocent angel who could never do anything wrong. do i think leon would do half of the things he does on dc fics? no, but i do think people either 1) use dark content as a way to process their feelings and their traumas and 2) simply enjoy dark content because it’s taboo and, if replicated irl consensually, safely, and sanely, it’s also kinky and enjoyable.

i think it’s also especially hard for people who enjoy the reader being the perpetrator/dominant character in this kind of content because in the opposite kinds of fics, you’re not actively doing something bad to another people. you’re just letting something bad happen to you. there’s a lot of justified guilt for wanting to be the dominant person/perpetrator in these fantasies, but just because it’s justified doesn’t mean you *have* to feel bad. it’s okay to like things as fantasies that you would find reprehensible in real life. i just want to say that no matter what your kinks and interests are (as long as everyone in your fantasies is 18+), you are seen and valid for them to me. please take some time to remember that you are not a bad person for enjoying this, and ada wong is not a real person who can be harmed psychologically by me writing this content or by you enjoying it. and if you don’t enjoy it, that’s okay too! you’re welcome on my blog whether or not you enjoy this type of media.

as always, take care of yourself and read responsibly.

#resident evil smut #ada wong smut #ada wong resident evil #ada x reader #resident evil x you #resident evil 4 ada #resident evil 4 #re4 #re4r #re4r remake #re2 ada #resident evil imagines #moon.dc #moon.ncdc #moon.w

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ace-of-hearts-and-spades · 3 months

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YOU THERE!!!!!! TUMBLR USER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Are YOU tired of how Tumblr treats trans people, particularly transwomen and transfemmes? Are YOU tired of how Tumblr treats people of color, particularly black folks? Are YOU tired of fandom trying to police the madeup bullshit you like to draw, write, or read about? Are YOU tired of all this fucking AI bullshit? Are YOU looking for a new online home to settle in?

Consider Pillowfort.social!

I’m not going to go into the nitty-gritty of how Pillowfort functions, because others have talked about that and explained it much better than I can (I recommend reading @/vergesm’s post here for a more general Pillowfort overview). What I’m going to do is explain what I, personally, get out of Pillowfort and why I enjoy it.

To preface, I’m not being paid to make this post or promote Pillowfort or anything. I wouldn’t think that needs to be said, but people make things up sometimes so idk. I’m writing pro-Pillowfort propaganda because I genuinely like the place and want to see it thrive. If you want to take a look at my own fort and get a feel for the place, you can do so here.

So with that out of the way – let’s talk about it!

Pillowfort is quite a bit like Tumblr, in that it’s a blogging platform, but it’s got a few things that make it better than this hellsite imo. For one thing, you can post NSFW content there. Although I don’t draw much explicit stuff, it’s nice to be able to post art there without worrying I’ll get shadowbanned for a picture that’s just a lil too suggestive. It's nice to know that the option is there. Honestly, it’s freeing not to have to worry about that shit. And it’s also really cool that there’s a built-in system for marking certain posts as NSFW, because as well as being able to mark your own posts as NSFW, you can choose whether you want to see other people's posts marked as NSFW. And for minors, the ability to see NSFW content is automatically turned off. Pillowfort’s got a really good system for both allowing NSFW content and keeping it away from people who don’t want to see it. I really like that flexibility, and how that flexibility isn't detrimental to the users.

And speaking of being able to see or not see certain content, the content filtering is pretty solid. You’re able to block tags and even words in the body of a post, and like I said, you can control whether you want to see posts marked as NSFW. You can even control who sees your own posts! There’s blocking users, of course, but you can limit who sees your own posts even further than that. You can make them visible to anyone, visible only to logged in Pillowfort users, visible only to your followers or mutuals, or hell, even visible to you alone!! It’s cool to have that level of control, and I find it reassuring to know I have those options.

Another big appeal of Pillowfort, for me, is the userbase’s strong “don’t like don’t read” policy. A lot of the people there operate under the mindset of “as long as it’s fictional, whatever dude. I don’t have to like it, but you do you." There are still dipshits, of course, but it’s WAY better than the insane purity culture that’s developed here. I don’t have to worry about some wannabe-conservatives telling me I’m just as bad as Ted Bundy for [checks notes] sexualizing Michael Myers or some shit. Plus, this general userbase mindset is backed up by actual site policy! I’ve heard that Pillowfort is very swift in responding to reports of harassment – whether it’s fandom-based harassment or bigotry. I haven’t had any experience with this personally (and hopefully it’ll stay that way), but I’ve heard good things about it, and it makes me feel more comfortable being there.

Also, did I mention Pillowfort has an explicit anti-AI policy? AI generated images and writing are banned on the website, and staff made this decision once its userbase and community made it clear that they wouldn’t welcome that sort of shit. And GOD, does it make me feel so fucking good as a writer and artist to know that.

And that’s another thing – Pillowfort staff actually fucking listens to its userbase. The website is crowd-funded and relies on subscriptions and monthly donations to keep things running. And because it relies on its community, it relies on keeping the community happy. So complaints, bug reports, suggestions and alterations and things the users would like to see on the site – it’s all taken pretty seriously. And again, it’s just really nice to know that the staff of the place actually give a shit and are looking out for its community rather than trying to suck the dick of the biggest investor.

Really, the only problem I have with Pillowfort is the fact that it’s a bit small. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, because the people there are lovely. But since a lot of people aren’t happy with Tumblr, and haven’t been happy with Tumblr for some time, I thought I’d just ask you guys – maybe consider it. Consider making a Pillowfort account. Consider making your own little fort, stringing up some colored lights and cool art and making yourself cozy. Consider offering some money, if you can spare it, because it’s genuinely a really cool place that I want to spend more time in and see prosper.

So far, I’ve had a lovely time there. It’s cozy and friendly and it feels like one of the few places where a queer artist like me is actually welcome. And I think a lot of Tumblr users might really like it too.

I hope to see you there! 💜

#ace rambles #pillowfort #tumblr alternative #will this actually convince anyone? idk #i hope i can at least convince some of my moots/buddies lol #might as well shoot my shot

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agendabymooner · 1 year

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colour me your colour || toto w. x ofc (4)

Summary: Tilly Marie nearly loses faith in her passion as she refuses to listen to everyone who told her to quit. Everyone but one. And it’s the man she met years ago at a racing event she didn’t want to attend. Who would have thought that her father’s partial ownership of three brands could take her to the zone of Mercedes and meet the love of her life?

Chapter summary: Can you actually fall in love fast? or is Tilly just fortunate enough to catch Toto's attention and gain his respect and determination in span of a day? As of this point, she might as well host a slumber party as Daniel and Lewis continue to pester her with the most important topics of her life right now: her family and the hypothetical ones she'd make with Toto.

Content warning: Age gap, brief use of explicit language, discusses the 2014 austrian gp, flirtatious banter, mutual pining kind of romance, platonic relationship with Lewis Hamilton and Daniel Ricciardo, fictional family and business involved (Hearth family and Hearth Automotives Group). NO PERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS INVOLVED SORRY

Note: Thank you all so much for the 50 followers! I honestly have been writing these just because I didn't have anything occupy my time and it's a good idea that I posted them up here. knowing that you're enjoying my brain's ideas, it fuels me even more into writing. As of this point I'm currently writing a spin-off for Rush and this series so keep an eye out, I suppose. I hope you all enjoyed today's race because I certainly did (Albon was way too fucking good this weekend, I shit you not). And I hope Alonso's 2nd place makes up for the Father's Day that I'll never get to spend with him. Enjoy xx

masterlist

iv. fast lane but not the race weekend kind

“Regards,

Tilly Marie F. Hearth…”

That should be okay, I tell myself silently as I put away my laptop. It’s only 6 pm, and I already wish to retire to my bed early.

I can be doing a lot, but instead I’m moping inside my hotel room while I’m waiting for Lewis. Being on a paid vacation is nice; I don’t have to do anything and deal with people. But at the same time, I’m craving more tasks to occupy my time because truthfully, I do NOT want to be stuck in a hotel in Silverstone with nothing to do. I spent my early 20’s being away from people, but now I’m entering my early 30’s, I’m slowly thinking that I probably should’ve done more than attend festivals by myself or with my sisters.

None of the people I was around with earlier had looked my way until after they'd been told that I was working in communications and was a boss’ child. The staff from the other teams also did the same—but some of them knew who I was already and had already made themselves comfortable. Just how I wanted.

But then again, this is my first day. And Sunday would probably be my last considering that I’ll be back to my stuffy office the next week.

I can take up the role as a consultant for communications. My father did offer me that role for Ferrari, Red Bull and McLaren—telling me that I can do so much more in Formula One than my no-good employers.

Bunch of bullshit, I curse out. He wouldn’t let go of his legacy like that.

I already told him about writing for magazines or simply writing in general, but he still placed these executive positions in front of me as if he knew I’d give in. Sad fact is that he actually is right; I’m close to giving up on my job. If The Devil Wears Prada didn’t warn me the first time, Lauren Weisberger should have at least taken both of my shoulders and shaken them.

It didn’t hurt to think about balancing Formula One and journalism out. After all, it’s what I can do as a journalist—know enough about racing and engines and ensure that my knowledge is being shared through my writing and published works.

I try my best to relax in my bed, lying flat on the mattress with my hands resting on my stomach. The silence is deafening and I can hear my steady breathing. My eyes are growing tired as they continue to look up at the ceiling of my room.

For a moment, I debated whether or not I should come downstairs for dinner with Lewis. If there’s anything that I know about him, he takes his dear time to get ready—and I have an endless closet at home. That’s telling you a lot.

A knock on my door makes me stand fast and rush to open it. Daniel Ricciardo stands there with a grin.

“Oh you,” I blurt out.

Displeased with my response, Daniel cries out, “I’m not terrible all the time, Tils.”

“Sorry,” I shake my head as I correct myself, “I meant that I thought you were Lewis.”

“He phoned me and said we should head down instead of waiting for him,” he shrugs as he sticks his arm out and offers, “let’s go?”

I nod and head to where my flats are, slipping them on with ease as I grab my keycard and wallet.

Daniel only pulled his arm back when I wrapped my arm around it. We descend to the ground floor where the restaurant is located.

A host takes us to a four table seat at a corner. Seeing familiar faces from the venue, I nod at them as a greeting before I find myself sitting across Daniel.

Soon enough, Lewis arrives and we begin to talk about today’s events. Forty five minutes had passed, and we found ourselves conversing in front of our already empty plates.

Daniel asks about my family and all I can tell him has something to do with my mother’s side of the family. I guess out of the wealthy people in my family, I can understand my mother’s connections to the automobile industry. My toxic trait is that I despise my father but love my mother.

The difference is that my mother loves us more than anything and cares for our half-sister more than he does.

But it seems Daniel has focused on a different matter.

“Your mother is— you’re a Ford, Tils,” his eyes widen like an owl as his mouth gapes open. I can practically see a fly entering his mouth.

“My mum is,” I laugh, looking at Lewis as he, too, laughs at Daniel’s shocked expression.

“Mate, she’s a Ford,” Daniel reaches out to nudge at Lewis and gestures at me. “You carry that information around just like that?”

“She’s not really putting it out there for everyone to know,” Lewis chuckles, sipping on his water as he puts it down. “Besides, if you were really into racing you probably have heard about her dad or mum’s family one way or another.”

“I don’t really go digging for information about old money families,” Daniel rolls his eyes as he looks at me again, “you don’t look like you’re happy to be here. For someone who came from families who are into cars.”

“My father insisted on having me work for his teams,” I tell him, “I’m not exactly the brightest for motorsport. I prefer the media more than what my father wishes me to pursue.”

“Have you raced before?”

“I had a karting career at some point,” I shrug, “or at least I started at the age 4. Mum didn’t agree with it and I should’ve started at 7, but my father insisted. I was already competing by 7. My sisters were too, but some preferred equestrian over racing.”

“If my dad was a twat, I’d stop it just to spite him too,” Daniel says as I raise my brows at the statement. He then corrects himself, “What I mean is I’d pursue the karting career for me, not for him.”

“Gotcha.”

Lewis pipes up, “Blanche is a pretty decent woman. You should see her, mate.” He turns to look at me and asks, “Is she coming this weekend?”

“With Aimee and Sylvie,” I nod in confirmation, “I’m not quite sure about Stevie yet but she wouldn’t want to miss out on your home race.” Not elaborating any further, I return to the topic, “My father is absolutely baffled when I quit karting but he can’t do much because Poppy, my mum’s dad, was still alive. So between him and Poppy, he chose not to interfere.”

“But you’re still here on behalf of your father though,” Daniel points out.

“It’s to secure my position and family’s future,” I tell him with a sigh. I look at him then back at Lewis before I say, “Whether I like it or not, I still need to do my part regardless of how much I hate the surname. It’s an obligation that I can’t avoid but it’s alright. It’s not just for me— it’s for my sisters and my future children.” Wow, I’ve only been friends with Daniel for a month and I’m already airing out my dirty laundry to him. Is this what happens when your friends are your sisters and just Lewis?

“You’re taking your elder sister role way too seriously. You can’t even catch a break,” Daniel says incredulously.

I can only nod as I agree; my mother’s capable enough of worrying about them and I should just be doing whatever I want. She cares for my sisters as much as I do but being cut off from my father’s side of the family isn’t something that I’d allow.

It’s not as if my sisters don’t want to join me at the trackside; they want to keep an eye on one of each team in fact. They want to be able to know what kind of thing our father brags about. But much like me, they don’t want to be on the track itself—they’re better off being models because that's what they wanted to be. They’ll join me soon enough, they just need to make a career out of modelling and come to work for the driving teams whenever they’re ready.

“They’ll be in a lot of magazines soon enough,” I shrug nonchalantly. “I’d like them to do that first unless they feel like carrying a headache coming from either Brown or Horner.”

“There are three of them,” Lewis chuckles, “if anything, those three would outnumber your team principals. With you alone I got scared, could you imagine Sylvie? She’s feisty.”

“It’s not just to keep them sane,” I roll my eyes, my foot underneath the table kicking Lewis in the leg. The table shakes lightly. “I just started working in this kind of industry. What kind of a big sister would I be if I’m just as clueless? I need to know more, especially if I want to be able to teach my potential kids about it.”

Lewis, the piece of shit, decides that this is the right time to joke about it and say, “I didn’t know you’re already thinking about a future with my boss, Tilly.”

I snap my head to Lewis’ direction too much that I’m thinking I just got a whiplash. My glare hardens when Danny and Lewis’ faces turn red from laughing too much.

“You ought to quiet down, boys,” I hiss, not wanting to look at the people who are giving us the unnecessary attention being gathered by their laughter.

“You have to admit,” Lewis breathes deeply to refrain from laughing again, “you two got along well. Was it because of Dubai?”

“I told you that in confidence,” reaching down in his thigh, I pinch it as he whines quietly. He slaps my hand away as I say, “You’re a shit secret keeper.”

“Wai— what about Dubai?” Daniel, clearly not understanding what’s going on, asks as he looks at me while he expects a context.

I muttered to him, “Met Toto Wolff in 2006. Spoke to him and all that.”

Lewis nearly cries in laughter as he speaks, “She told me about it years ago. She never knew his name–or she refused to tell me who. She said he was attractive alright but—ow, stop it, Tils.”

I pull myself away from Lewis and sit back straight on my seat as I claim, “He doesn’t remember nor think of me like that, Lew. He’s just a silly crush.”

“Is he?”

“He was,” I correct him even if I’m wrong. It’s like Toto Wolff got an on-and-off button in my life. One moment he’s there making me blush the next thing he’s already gone.

“You’ve been single for as long as I know,” Lewis huffs out, “why don’t you try dating again anyways?”

“With your boss?” I raise a brow, “Are you that obtuse?”

“What? He isn’t bad,” Lewis shrugs, returning to his usual composure as he crosses his arms, “the opportunity’s right there. Why are you adamant on not taking it?”

“Because she doesn’t want to get on Christian’s bad side for fraternizing with the enemy,” Daniel jokes.

“I’m gonna kill you, Daniel,” I threaten him emptily, making him giggle again.

“I’m repeating what you said!” He cries out, still laughing as he laughs obnoxiously. Men! Seriously.

“He’s quite interested you know,” Lewis states, his arms now crossing as he leaned against his seat. “He’s playing 20 questions with me whenever you leave. I’m not sure if he’s interested in me winning or you.”

“He’s not interested like that,” I insist, “I’m sure he means well because I just popped up all of the sudden today. Nobody likes to step on the wrong foot of a newcomer. You’ll just make an enemy.”

“Yeah, sure,” Daniel scoffs haughtily, “the guy who’s been asking Christian questions about you left and right— the same person who doesn’t like Christian— isn’t interested.”

“I haven’t been in a relationship with anyone since 2004,” I scowl, trying to keep my voice quiet as I say, “What makes you think I’ll be able to have an interesting relationship with him?”

“He isn’t subtle about wanting to spend time with you,” Lewis answers, “what did he say again? You’re welcome to be in our paddock anytime? Does that ring a bell?”

Of course I do, I almost huff out, it’s one of the things that I intend to do. Be able to spend enough time admiring his team…

“I know men,” Daniel adds, “and with the way of how he’s looking down at you during the interview? With the heart eyes making contact with another pair of heart eyes? Yeah, that man is in loooove~”

“Like it’s a fast lane.”

Now I can’t deny it.

I like being around Toto Wolff, more than anything. Speaking to him is like a breath of fresh air after stepping out of a cigar lounge. He’s a gentleman; I’ve always wondered how he’s not married. Women deserve him. Yet he’s here, being the most eligible bachelor in the grid following Fernando Alonso. God, I will snatch him up if I can even meet his level. I doubt he likes his women like me… trashy trying to be classy.

But it turns out, my cynicism is unnecessary. I find myself thinking a lot about the things that could be. In an empty elevator, I wait as it slowly closes. But the call from outside forces me to keep the door open until the person catches up.

The man makes it inside as he stands tall, trying to catch his breath. There’s no way in hell—

“Tilly,” oh my god. I’m seeing too much of him today.

I turn to my left as I dumbly ask, “Bonjour, what floor?”

Toto looks at me with confusion in his face, probably wondering if I’m playing stupid or just stupid in general as he looks past me and says, “You’ve got it.”

Wow, not only am I seeing too much of him, I’m also on the same floor as him.

I nod and look back at the front, I can see him through the reflection from the doors. His polo remains unbuttoned and his hair unruly after running his fingers through it. I can see traces of sweat dripping down his forehead. I probably shouldn’t do a physical examination on him.

I look at him and ask politely, “Have you had dinner yet?” It’s a polite thing to ask, right? Like I’m not coming off as desperate to speak to him?

“Ah,” he keeps his mouth shut for a second and answers, “it is something to take up in my room, unfortunately.”

“Is it?” I ask out of curiosity, “You could have joined others for dinner?”

“Busy, as always,” he smiles sadly, “it’s an endless battle.”

“Quite a shame,” I tell him with a shake of my head. “Do people know time zones or just business hours or is it just something written on papers?” I ask no one in particular.

“My brain doesn’t shut off the moment 7 pm hits,” he tells me with a rueful smile. “It calls for work all the time. So, no. I don’t follow my own business hours policy.” God, I feel sorry for him.

“It’s like a wire, Toto,” I nibble on my bottom lip, not knowing how to express my empathy without looking like an arse, “you can’t plug it back in if you’ve something to prevent it from happening. Like a baby proof.”

“You’re right,” he laughs. “What do you suggest I should do? The baby proof, I mean.”

I watch him as the door slides open, thanking him as he gestures for me to walk out of the lift first. Then my mouth does not stop speaking, “Have a dinner away from your work, for instance. Never hurts to isolate your work once in a while,” he laughs at that, “read a book? I love reading novels— I am currently skimming through Das Parfum. You can even time your break before going back to work because I can assure you that habit isn't good.”

“Do you understand the German language?” He asks me. Mentioning Das Parfum clearly piqued his curiosity.

It was smart of me to bring it up. When he told me earlier that he came from Austria, I knew I could talk to him in so many languages. Like I knew what I should say next. Like a mastermind.

I'm such a fucking mastermind.

My mouth quirks up and I answer, “Wir haben schließlich viele deutsche fahrer.” We have a lot of German drivers, after all.

He nods at me like he listens to everything I tell him. As if he’s following an order or he’s rather impressed with my pronunciations. Nice.

Our conversation leads us in front of my hotel room.

I look at him and gestures to the door, “This is my bat lair.”

“Bat lair?” He chuckles.

“My little humble abode,” I joke. “I can unfortunately hear my bed calling for me. I have to go.”

“Right,” he nods as I open my door and step inside my room. Telling myself to get my shit together, I turn around to see him still waiting for me to head in. That was a surprise.

I suggest, “One way to turn your stressful work day around would be breakfast. If you’d like, you can have one with me tomorrow?”

“Are you asking me on a breakfast date?” He teases, watching me fall apart with my face flushing red. He stops eventually and answers, “I would be more than happy to accompany you before we head out.”

“Okay good,” I laugh nervously, “I’ve no one else with me anyways so there’s that… does seven sound okay?”

“You can ask me for anything I think I’ll say yes, liebling,” boom. There goes my heart once more. He grins gleefully as he says, “I know a place nearby. Would you like me to pick you up tomorrow?”

“As far as I know I’m the one who asked you first,” I roll my eyes in a joking manner, smile escaping my lips.

“I’d love to have you pick me up but I know the place,” he tells me with a shrug. “Besides, it’s by the tracks. We can head down there together before they start piling up for the day.”

Not wanting to fluster myself anymore, I nod almost eagerly and he exclaims, “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Have a good night, bello. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, schatz. Sweet dreams.”

Oh I really am going to have the sweetest dreams ever. Trust me.

#formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #formula one imagine #formula one x oc #formula one smau #f1 fic #f1 imagine #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff fic #toto wolff x reader #mercedes amg imagine #formula one fluff #f1 fluff

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phynali · 2 years

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Tumblr tip sheet for twitter refugees

i’ve seen a lot of different advice posts but none that had what i consider all the key advice in one spot, so here we are. long post ahead.

1. your dash can be put into reverse chronological order and it is a BETTER experience if you do that

Go to your settings -> Dashboard -> Preference

Turn “Best Stuff First” OFF

2. you can (and likely should!) turn off algorithmic content

Under the same menu. Settings -> Dashboard -> Preferences

There are two algorithms on tumblr.

One is “In your orbit” and I fucking hate it. i want to see the content that I like, not that some random person i follow likes. if i wanted to see that content on my dash, i’d follow the people who put it there.

The other is “based on your likes” and it is hilariously bad because if you like a post for something you don’t normally like or follow (e.g., when I watched a new movie and liked one post about it), you’ll suddenly get a dozen posts about that thing and only that thing.

I keep it on because it’s hilariously bad, but i honestly recommend turning it off. it routinely recommends shit to me that i hate and i have to keep telling it that i am “not interested in this post” for things tagged with my nOTP, but until / unless i filter that ship tag out entirely, i will keep being serviced those

3. filtering / blacklisting is your friend

this is true on every platform, not just tumblr. i’m sure veteran twitter users are well-versed in it, but just as a reminder. you will be expected to filter your own content/dash here on tumblr, and if you complain about seeing something that was properly tagged, you will be rightly mocked as a clown.

Settings -> Account -> Content You See

you can filter both tags and post content. There’s a completely innocuous post i absolutely hate that does rounds and is never tagged, and i almost unfollowed a mutual for how much i hate that post and them reblogging it so much. but i typed a specific sentence from that post into the “filtered post content” options and BOOM - haven’t seen it since. glorious.

4. content controls are your friend

under the same “Content You See” menu. You are automatically opted OUT of seeing this stuff, so you MUST opt in to see mature content.

you’ll want to determine your own preferences, but i prefer to see all of the mature content types that may be hit with a community label.

5. long posts are (probably) your friend

tumblr cuts posts over a few lines if you have this turned off, and it’s really annoying and really truncates your experience of the website. THIS is itself a long post!

part of the quintessential tumblr experience is being annoyed by the “do you love the color of the sky” post.

seriously, this isn’t twitter. we aren’t here for 280 character bite-sized posts. i 10/10 recommend keeping long posts on.

Settings -> Dashboard -> Interface

6. blog-specific settings

there is also a menu for additional settings (including updating the appearance etc) for each blog you have (your main, and any sideblogs).

this is near the end of your options under Settings -> Blog Settings (click the individual blog to update)

under your blog settings you can...

- enable your custom theme (which you should! this is turned off for new users but personalizing your page is part of the experience)

- decide if you want people to know what posts you’re liking and who you’re following. i do NOT, so these are off. internet privacy is allowed on tumblr, and don’t let anyone bully you into thinking you need to make everything public for their supervision. consume all the problematic content your little gremlin content desires and tell people to fuck off if they take issue with that.

- determine if and how others can interact with your blog!! there some settings about asks, messaging, tipping (if you’re here to make $$), whether people can even SEE your blog, if it’s searchable, etc. tumblr gives power and control back to the users! use that power!

here, you can specifically set your “Ask” preferences to on or off, and to accept or NOT accept asks from anonymous users / logged out users.

if you’re here to interact with friends or just vibe, or don’t reblog a lot of asks games or encourage anon inbox messages, and/or especially if you’re getting harasment and don’t want to deal with shitty users, it is okay to turn off anons, and i ENCOURAGE you to do so.

i keep it on for my fandom sideblogs and off for my main and this makes me happy. do what makes you happy.

7. etiquette and interface

- change your icon so no one thinks you’re a bot

- reblog posts so your account isn’t empty. also, with algorithmic content turned off by most users, YOU are the algorithm, and interaction on this website is strongly encouraged. making or reblogging posts part of the experience and sort of the whole point

- reblog tagging: individual preferences apply. instead of adding a comment on a reblog, users will often add their thoughts in a tag, if they aren’t specifically looking to engage in a dialogue or add on to the post itself. other users can then decide to copy their tags (often with “prev” for “previous” appended) or even copy/paste them into a comment on their reblog, which is your tags “passing peer review”. people also tag to index posts so their blog is more searchable, and to include trigger warnings and content warnings related to a post. you can also choose to not tag anything. it’s your blog, do what you want.

- tags are how people find new content. if you make a new post and want people to find it, they will be searching the tag related to that content, so tag it accordingly. people can also follow tags and get notifications when new posts are made into that tag.

- do not censor words! this isn’t tiktok or twitter. we say ‘fuck’ and ‘kill’ here. if you write “unalive” or censor swears or triggers, people’s content filters do not work, and you will have undermined their ability to curate their content, moderate their experience, and avoid triggers. don’t do that. just spell out the whole goddamn word, please.

- you can make sideblogs under a single account! this means you have your main, which you interact (like, reply, and follow) from, but which can be used to have a space for all your posts and reblogs on a given topic (fandom, hobby, fixation, whatever). you can also direct message to/from a sideblog and accept asks etc.

- if you use tumblr in your browser, there is an add-on called XKIT. this used to be a tumblr user staple and allowed for a lot of functionality that tumblr didn’t used to have. tumblr has since very much upped their game, but it can still be worth using XKIT if you’re regularly in a browser and not on the app. for example, it includes some ad-blocking capabilities. I use “New Xkit” and have a few personalized settings with it.

- posts go around forever on this site and new memes crop up every day, retreat, and then resurge out of the blue randomly. this makes for tumblr-wide in-jokes that circulate for years, like “do you love the color of the sky” and the “color theory children’s hospital” post. if you don’t get these, you can ask and i’m sure tumblr will deliver, but you can also wait around and follow more people and these will turn up eventually.

- your dash is what you make it. your interaction is what you make it. you have control, you are not at the mercy of algorithms and advertisers if you don’t want to be. paying for ad-free browsing is an option. they even give you the option to toggled your ad settings within ad-free browsing. seriously - you. have. the. control.

this is something that we love about tumblr and one of the things that makes it our hellsite (affectionate) instead of our hellsite (derogatory). if you’re finding your experience to be negative but still want to stick around, i encourage you to block accounts or content that makes you unhappy or anxious, to follow the accounts that bring you joy, and to adjust your settings into whatever makes you happiest and least stressed out.

#tumblr #twitter #twitter refugees #tumblr tips #fellow tumblr veterans what did i miss?#long post #long post for ts #ts was tumblr savior aka an extension from about a decade ago that people used for content filtering #i think before xkit existed?#and some of us still use the 'for ts' tags because people use to blacklist/filter content based on that wording #i guess it's not really needed for long posts anymore since people can turn those off in their dash preferences now #but old habits die hard #anyway this barely touches on the unique tumblr culture but i hope that culture sticks around despite an influx of new users

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smallishdoggo · 11 months

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Taliesin said on a 4sd once that Ashton spent the couple months FCG and them were together before the start of the campaign gently rebuffing FCG’s attempts to get to know them, because FCG was markedly more overzealous and rigid in their notions of how they were supposed to operate in relationships. Or, in short, the therapy schtick didn’t fly with Ashton. (when aimed in their direction; he’s always found it amusing to watch when aimed at other people)

Which, this is totally fine and valid. This isn’t a judgement call on Ashton or anything, I just find the talk of how FCG and Ashton’s relationship is one sided to be very in itself one sided. Considering their relationship from FCG’s perspective, I think FCG would have every reason to believe that pursuing a real emotional connection with Ashton would be kinda futile. From their perspective, he’s been rejecting their attempts at that since they met.

Ashton doesn’t really make an effort to talk to FCG about things! They don’t tend to initiate conversation beyond casual remarks in group settings. It’s apparent from the viewer’s perspective that Ashton cares about FCG, but FCG just knows that Ashton doesn’t like when they ask him about feelings and junk and doesn’t really seem all that interested in talking to FCG more than casually. It is very telling that Ashton literally thinks FCG’s behavior is dangerous to the group, but has only every brought that up directly with Laudna. It seems to me that when he interacts with FCG, he tends to focus on nudging them towards behaving in ways they approve of, like with their support of FCG’s baking hobby.

I read Ashton’s attitude towards FCG's feelings and beliefs to be very condescending (this is said entirely without judgement). It stuck out to me in last night’s reunion episode how any times Ashton asserted that they understood FCG’s feelings, and that those feelings were wrong and could be dismissed off hand. Like, with him telling Prism that FCG only distrusted her because of Mother and that she could freely ignore that instead of taking him seriously and meeting him halfway (like she did with the deal to protect FRIDA in exchange for FCG protecting Orym). FCG didn’t even distrust Prism until FRIDA said they thought she was shady, so Ashton was confidently wrong about FCG’s feelings on top of being dismissive. I think Ashton thinks they understand FCG more than they actually do, which might be why they don’t tend to put any effort into talking with FCG about the behaviors they don’t like; he thinks he understands FCG just from observation and can guide them without discussing things with him.

Not to flip it and reverse it and be like “you think FCG is the terrible friend, but actually--” FCG does struggle to connect with people. Thinking that you are an object that exists to serve people will do that to ya. FCG has said outright, in his conversation with FRIDA while walking to Jackoby’s, that he hasn’t let people know him. He has a sort of fragile sense of self, and finds it difficult and scary to define himself outside of a greater purpose, a script he can follow when things get confusing. I don’t think FCG considers themself close with anyone in the Hells, honestly. I think they like the group well enough, but I don’t really know how much they trust them or feel like they’re all truly friends. When they talk about FRIDA and the Changebringer, they talk about being seen and understood and liked in a way that makes it seem like they don’t really feel like the Hells care about, understand, or like them all that much.

So, yeah, FCG and Ashton aren’t close friends. But I think that’s both of their fault, and frankly I don’t actually think Ashton wants or expects to be close friends with FCG. I think they care about FCG but don’t really see them as an adult on equal footing with them. They want to protect and guide FCG to some extent, but that’s not quite the same thing as friendship. Not mutually exclusive, but. I don’t think Ashton’s looking for friendship from that corner in the way that he’s plainly looking for it from Laudna and Orym.

#cr spoilers #not really specific ones #fcg #ashton greymoore

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sanderssideswriting · 7 months

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The fall of Sanders Sides is just depressing honestly.

I don’t consider myself an og. I joined the fandom in 2019 thanks to tiktok. I went to anime expo that same year as Janus.

I joined a small discord server for fans and speak to some of them every day still even though we’ve migrated servers multiple times and I’ve stopped talking to several of them.

Me and one of my friends met in a sanders sides rp server and created one just for the two of us that’s still in use and still used for sanders sides because anything else doesn’t feel the same.

I cosplayed on tiktok until like 2021 or not later. I had mutuals and followed so many people who did sanders sides content. They've either stopped making tiktoks entirely or have moved on. Of all the accounts I follow only one makes (absolutely incredible) sanders sides content.

In my closet is the jacket I hand stitched patches on for my virgil cosplay. Patton’s blue polo, Logan’s black polo and tie. My brothers old baseball bat I painted for Remus. Janus’s caplet, hat and gloves.

On my nightstand is a janus necklace that’s a little fucked up that I used to wear every day. In my junk drawer is Janus’s keychain that’s scratched up from being on my lanyard for months.

In a box are four of the sanders sides youtooz figures. In another is the box the jams came in.

I had one of the signed posters I waited months to get because they all got ruined and had to be reshipped. It left the box twice, nearly got thrown out and I sent to a friend because I never go around to framing it and hanging it up.

Remnants of Sanders Sides is all around me. It meant so much to me for awhile especially in 2020-2021.

And now the magic's gone. I fell in love with the fandom first and foremost. A fandom that's quiet until a new episode comes out then it gets resurrected. Only to slowly die again as the new video hype fades and the cycle repeats.

#ts crit #less of a crit and more of a ramble really but who cares #ts criticism #ts critical #sasi #istg every time I see a screenshot of Thomas being like 'I'm still writing! But I'm so close to being done you guys.'#'the finale will come soon I promise'#I just feel depressed because we've waited so long and it's not here #it's been three years #why would I believe that the finale is coming out 'soon' when you've taken three years to nearly be done with the script

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ryuichirou · 2 months

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Replies

First of all, sorry to all of those who didn’t get my boops in return!! I send them even now but mentally. Boop.

I ended up spending all my writing time on headcanons… but still, here are some regular replies!

A couple about Idia, a couple about fandom stuff.

Anonymous asked:

THE GAY THOUGHTS ARE OVERTAKING IDIA

this seems like a pre-photo of that one art you did with idia and Lilia in the concert bathroom ngl... perhaps they are related??

Ohh, you remember that one!!

Technically yes, this is pretty much the same story, just the before and after thing lol Although they’re dressed differently in these two posts (my bad), both of them stem from the same scenario Katsu and I came up with a year ago.

Anonymous asked:

Alright, so we see how Idia reacts when someone reacts aggressively against the crap he says but what would happen if he says a snide remark to someone and then they proceed to verbally and psychologically obliterate him on the spot? Would he freeze up, talk back?

We’ve seen it with Sebek a couple of times, even though Sebek doesn’t really obliterate him psychologically (he is much weaker than Idia in this sense…), but I think Idia tends to talk back. Idia is quite stubborn, and talking back and escalating the situation is one of his biggest defence mechanisms. He is the master shit-talker and a genius of snark, so he might win against the majority of people + he is so self-deprecating that not a lot of people would know what to say to him to actually hurt his feelings – Idia berates himself much worse than that on a regular basis + expects that everyone hates his guts anyway. But I don’t think it’s impossible to shut him up using only verbal abuse… Lilia might be the one who succeeds at that, actually.

Anonymous asked:

warning, ranting here im so sorry I just need to get it off my chest :(

even if you do not see this that's ok, im a big fan of your art plus headcanons and the fact you also ship my rare pair. but recently my mutuals found out I follow you and like your art and I have troubles talking with them. sometimes they say that im supporting that type of behaviour by interacting and im torn. I am not sure what to do. I personally do not mind your shroudcest, they are fictional and you probably do not support it. sorry for the rant and assumptions. English is not my first language so im sorry if it's hard to understand.

Hi, Anon! I am very happy you like our stuff and I really appreciate that you just ignore the things that you don’t particularly like: I feel very lucky that we have people like you now.

It’s very unfortunate that your friends make you feel bad about following us, I am very sorry to hear that. And I can’t tell you how to deal with your friends, since I don’t know what kind of relationships you have, but I always say it: a friend should be able to see past someone’s interests and be open-minded, and not make you feel horrible for liking certain things that don’t harm anyone. And you don’t even like those things – you just ignore them and like something completely different. How is it supporting me? It doesn’t even affect stuff that we post and draw – I would’ve drawn all that anyway.

If you want to hear it: I don’t support any of the problematic themes that I draw in real life. This is such an obvious thing to me, such a given, such a common sense thing, that it’s honestly very offensive that someone might even consider that this isn’t the case simply because I draw certain stuff. Please note that you are not offending me, Anon, you’ve done nothing wrong and I’m just venting back. People throw assumptions so easily just to harass us or their friends for supporting us, those are such big words and allegations, it’s honestly messed up that this is a norm.

But I digress. I could only suggest you to reflect on your relationship with those people and try to make compromises that make sense for you. It’s easy to say, but try not to let them bully you. Try not to let people who don’t trust you enough to know that you wouldn’t condone stuff like that irl dictate you how you live your life. This is a game that you can’t win: even if you stop supporting me, it’s not a guarantee that you won’t get smacked for something else in the future. I don’t know your friends. But a lot of people experienced that. It’s mentally challenging trying to walk on eggshells all the time, especially because of something that’s not even true, so take care of yourself.

Thank you once again for your message. I hope things get better.

Anonymous asked:

I hope this doesn't come off creepy but as someone who creates art and fic of an incesty oc!shroud x Idia ship. It makes me happy to see you supporting and creating weird unhinged stuff. For now I live vicariously through you and maybe one day I'll be bold enough to post the newer sketches I have for my story.

Thank you for your message, Anon! I am super happy that our stuff gives you some comfort and confidence to create things that you care about; it means a lot to hear that.

Also! Kudos to you for creating an incest Oc!Shroud x Idia ship hehe ^w^

#replies

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f0point5 · 2 months

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Max is civil towards Charles because he bet Charles. Max is a wdc. A 3 time one at that. Charles does not like Max as much people want to believe it. We all know if it was the other way around Max would not be running the way Charles is. Also people looovveee to point out how Jos follows a Charles fan account and how he loves Charles. Jos being positive about another drivers shows that he does not perceive them as a threat to Max and therefore Max thinks the same. Jos hated Daniel and would bitch about him at any point during esp during rbr days. Jos has not rested about Lewis and will continue because he is Max’s biggest threat.

I do think people need to grow up and realise this is a workplace and they’re competing against each other. It’s not sunshine, rainbows, sleepovers and plaiting each others hair. I knew it was going bad a few years back but lestappens are a different breed considering they barely interact even at the workplace

Got to say I disagree with most of this as at today.

I agree that Charles and Max are just friendly colleagues and besides having a couple of mutuals they don’t think about each other. I think Charles definitely disliked Max a lot more back in the early days but I think their paths have diverged a lot since then. They’re not really rivals and haven’t been in a long time so I think that’s mellowed out a lot of their interactions.

I don’t agree that Jos wrote off Charles. I think Jos said a thing one time because again, they were the top karters in Europe…those are the kids that make it to f1. It wasn’t like he was talking about something that didn’t have a big chance of happening at that point. And I don’t think he necessarily meant it like “they’ll fight for championships, this will be the rivalry of Max’s life”, I think he probably meant “lol they’ll be seeing each other on track”.

Jos hated Daniel because Daniel had seniority at Red Bull, and because Daniel is close to Christian. I think Jos saw Daniel as a threat to Max’s position at Red Bull at one time, but not in terms of talent, just that Daniel would be an obstacle to Max getting priority as soon as he wanted it.

I don’t believe Lewis is Max’s biggest threat as at today. I haven’t seen Jos talking about Lewis in ages and honestly as a parent you would never catch me letting go of the 2021 nonsense, so maybe he hasn’t either.

I think Lestappen has been so over-commercialised by the teams though. These are two guys who’ve known each other their whole lives, it would honestly be pathetic if they couldn’t have some friendly banter now and then considering how often they see each other. But the teams have kind of packaged it like some enemies to besties thing now and it’s a bit…Larry Stylinson now. To me, anyway

#max verstappen #charles leclerc

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casualheizouenjoyers · 1 year

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“what is this, some shitty romcom? trust me i hate their guts…okay but you gotta admit they’re attractive—”

self indulgent heizou x reader work rivals to lovers i wrote because i cannot follow prompts for my own life (not to spoil the request but basically reader got MAD magic fr)

work rivals to lovers <3

picture this, you're a fellow detective who uses magic to solve your cases and you're just vibing and thriving in life fr

then one day you overhear heizou talking shit about how without your magic you wouldnt be as useful of a detective

and like he doesn't 100% mean that but thus sparks a rivalry between the two of you because he’s lowkey cute and you want any exuse to talk to him (and he's lowkey thinking the same-)

anyways sara is tired of y'all's shit which honestly valid she just like me fr and forces you guys to work together on a really tough case as she got an anonymous tip about a smuggling ring operating out of ritou that is planning on moving up from natural resources to living beings and it’s your job to find them and shut down the operation before it crosses that line (look at me writing a serious scenario guys)

y’all have to go undercover as two merchants interested in buying some resources for cheap and expressing interest in the possible expansion of local smuggling rings and since sara is making you share an accommodation to avoid suspicion you and heizou mutually come up with the idea to act as business partners with a strictly professional relationship

clearly the two of you don’t know what it means to have a strictly professional relationship considering how heizou can pick up very easily on how jealous you are when possible suspects flirt with him and he flirts back

which you adamantly deny just saying you feel bad for the poor soul he’s flirting with and how embarrassing it must be to either get caught because of some corny and terrible flirting or be innocent and get your heartbroken by said corny and terrible flirting

he’s just projecting though because no matter how much he tries to ignore it he feels the same whenever anyone flirts with you

shit hits the fan at a luxurious auction held by the ring you’ve been sent to catch, where you begrudgingly admit that he does clean up nice, to which he responds with a wink and says “only for you” before dodging a (harmless) blast of magic from you

the plan of the evening is simple, make sure the auction lasts long enough for sara and her specialized team to sneak in and capture the attendees of the auction using funds provided by the tenryou commission

and everything seems to be going well until the security outside the auction house is tipped off and mass chaos sprouts all over the auction house, leading to you and heizou aiding the tenryou commission and fighting off as many people as you can, compromising your aliases

heizou is by zero means a weak fighter but soon enough out of the corner of your eye you can see him starting to get overwhelmed and rush over to him quickly and holy shit heizou doesn’t think you’ve ever looked anymore stunning than you do right now with the wild look in your eyes shining unnaturally bright and palms coursing with barely restrained energy

needless to say you kicked ABSOLUTE ass

and when the chaos finally subsided and the battle is won you’re met with chants of your name before the world starts to fade away and the last thing you feel is someone rushing quickly to catch you before you collapse

when you finally come to you’re greeted by heizou dozing off peacefully in a chair by your bed holding onto your right hand

after a second he jolts awake and doesn’t try to hide the relieved expression on his face that you’re okay :)

he does complain how sara is making him watch over you until you’re all better but you both know he’s lying (and your suspicions are confirmed when you overhear heizou outside asking sara for a few more days off to make sure you’re not alone)

he’s the sweetest though, smuggling in any sweets you want from outside and reading mystery light novels together (and making it a competition of who can guess the twist first)

poor sara, now instead of being bombarded with requests from the two of you to not work together on any cases she has to deal with you both asking to always work together even if it’s a case as simple as finding a lost cat

detective power couple fr

#aris writes #genshin impact x reader #heizou headcanons #heizou x reader #heizou my beloved #heizou shikanoin x reader #shikanoin heizou #genshin impact

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scoobydoodean · 4 months

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5x13 is a very interesting episode for all of the characters…

like you’ve got cas refusing to consider killing sam bc he wants to idk prove himself to dean

you’ve got mary and john being mad about raising kids to hunt and sam defending john

you’ve got sam’s rewriting of john: like he tells young john that his dad died trying to protect him, but dudeee john told dean he might have to kill you on his death bed

you’ve got dean trying to protect mary from the truth but ultimately realizing she deserves it (i love this one bc dean is consistently about people being honest with him)

you’ve got sam being honestly kinda cruel when telling mary to leave john so she doesn’t curse her kids, which there’s some truth to that but that is NOT the right way to say it sam (i genuinely don’t know how people think sam is good at like “therapy”)

you’ve got michael being creepy with dean and saying he doesn’t want to fight lucifer but still disagreeing about following a father’s orders and destiny and the advent of team free will

you’ve got sam starting to believe that maybe this is their destiny and dean strongly denying it (hot take but sometimes i really think sam and michael are the stronger parallel)

omgosh anyway sorry for the long recap but i guess i’m just wondering if there’s anything you would have done differently with this episode? specifically regarding how these themes were shown

Regarding Cas:

I don't think Cas wants to prove himself to Dean. I don't think he needs to, and I don't think he thinks he needs to right now. (In fact in 5.02 he suggested that Dean owes him). Everything Cas is doing is born of mutual solidarity with Dean in rebellion against heaven. If they don't succeed, they're all going to die—and so will everyone else. Cas has the entire host of heaven after him. Even fellow rebels like Anna and Gabriel dislike him. Gabriel resents Cas for his hopeless quest to find their father, and Anna hates him because he betrayed her in 4.21 and made no efforts to help her.

The only person Cas has in the world right now—the only person he can lean on or count on in any way—is Dean (see: 5.03). By extension, because of their shared love for Dean, Cas also has the people with whom Dean associates (Bobby, Sam, Ellen, Jo). There is protection and shelter through loyalty—through the found family. Cas calls Sam his friend in 5.13, but they haven't really had any bonding experiences on screen the way Dean and Cas have. I think for Cas, it's as simple as Dean is Cas's friend -> Anyone Dean cares about is also Cas's friend and worthy of his protection.

I also don't doubt that Cas is aware that Dean's well-being is tied to the family's well-being and the family's well-being is tied to Dean's well-being. I also don't think he's unaware of the fact that Dean can't weather more harm to their cobbled-together family. Sam and Dean's relationship is deeply scarred and trying to recover (but we see in 5.05 and 5.12 that Dean is struggling with it, and Cas specifically knows this from 5.03 when Dean opened up to him about it). Bobby is dealing with being recently paralyzed and is suicidal (and Dean's outright told Bobby that he can't handle losing him). Ellen and Jo just died a few episodes before. We're about to be reminded again how badly Dean is cracking open in 5.14.

Cas's actions with Anna are cold and calculated—ruthless—because he can't risk any further harm to the family unit—especially not any that might risk rupturing their heart (Dean). In that regard, Cas's actions toward Anna in 5.13, while ruthless, are in character (Also see: wanting to kill Jesse, torturing Donatello, plotting to kill Kelly, working with Sam to use The Book of the Damned).

Regarding Sam rewriting John:

I think the truth is that Sam doesn't care that John told Dean to save him or kill him. I mean—a part of him definitely was traumatized by it—but in 2.11, Sam says John was "right to say it" and he continues to push that narrative through season 2. I think the thing that really makes Sam angry is that it was kept from him. But the stuff related to Stanford and being raised a hunter—Sam forgives John for all of that, and we've known that for a while. We saw Sam start to soften and empathize with John's desire for revenge by 1.02. Then there was 1.08, 1.20, 2.02, 4.19.

Sam's lack of sugar-coating:

We can make note of this one also in 4.19 with Adam, in 4.20 with Jimmy, and in 5.06 with Jesse (though Sam does try harder with Jesse). I don't think he intends to be cruel to Mary, but by this point, Sam has kind of made a name for himself telling people their futures are fucked. This also feeds into your last note about Sam believing in destiny. Of course, Dean also jumps to say that Sam is right and Mary should just not have kids.

I don't know if there's anything I would have necessarily done differently, besides motivate Anna a little better. Her actions are rational, but they don't feel true to her character from season 4. By this I specifically mean her plotting to trick Sam and Dean into a trap, when they (especially Dean) had risked their lives for her in 4.09 and 4.10. She actually uses Dean's loyalty to try and trick him into meeting her, and the only reason it doesn't work is that Cas doesn't trust her and refuses to let Sam and Dean go to meet her. Given that the lack of loyalty and love among the angels was a primary motivation for Anna's fall, I would have appreciated further explanation behind her betraying Dean in this way—through his loyalty to her. I am likely meant to infer that her stay in prison included brainwashing that created this effect, but I don't know... it just feels off.

#mail #anna #ruthless cas #5.13 #season 5 #castiels moral compass #and cas is my best friend #dean the narrative heart #time to think for yourself #the flannel business #ellen #jo #do i look like a ditchable prom date to you?

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autisticlancemcclain · 2 years

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Pidge is a naturally observant person. She’s also naturally curious (her mother would say ‘nosy’, but her mom’s not here, so. Potato potahto). This means that while Keith and Lance may have everyone else believing they’re just close friends, Pidge isn’t fooled. She’s the smartest person on the castle for a reason. Nothing escapes her sharp eyes and sharper intuition.

Yeah, okay, she walked in on them making out in the kitchen a couple weeks ago. Whatever. She can cite her observation skills in her own brain if she so desires. Fuck off.

Point is that Pidge knows they’re knockin’ booties. Doing the devil’s tango. The beast with two backs, et cetera et cetera. Are they dating? In a relationship? Possibly. She’s not sure. They’re down bad for each other, that much she knows, but she’s not positive they’ve made the step towards mutual exclusivity and monogamy. But either way, there’s one thing Pidge knows: Lance’s brothers and sisters and parents may not be here to give Keith an old-fashioned shovel talk, but she is. And she’s happy to do it.

—

Pidge decides to be nice and knock on Keith’s door instead of overriding the lockpad. Just to give him some time to prepare. Not that he knows what he’s preparing for, but whatever. She’s gracious and benevolent, is the point.

“Oh, hey, Pidge,” Keith greets, opening the door and stepping to the side. She follows him inside, glaring at the wall. Of course the jackass is kind and welcoming, despite the hour of the night and the glower on her face. The audacity of this fool, to be his regular, good-hearted self. Why can’t he be a dick so Pidge can threaten him guilt-free?

“So…” he says awkwardly, and without looking Pidge knows he’s rocking back on his heels and picking at his nails, like he does when he has to do something social and doesn’t know the protocol. “Not to be a dick, but, uh. What do you need?”

Pidge turns around and squints at him. He looks back with wide eyes. She considers letting him stew in the silence for a bit, to really make him sweat, but honestly she wants to get to the threatening part.

“Pidge?” he asks worriedly.

“If you hurt my brother I’ll kill you dead.”

Keith blinks in shock before tilting his head in confusion. “Pidge, Matt could kick my ass any day of the week. With relative ease, honestly. What the hell are you talking about?”

She narrows her eyes at him. Is he being intentionally obtuse? “I’m not talking about Matt.”

They stare at each other for several minutes, Keith in bewilderment and Pidge in protective stubbornness. Then, understanding dawns on Keith.

“Oh. Oh! You mean Lance. Okay, I get it now.”

Pidge nods tersely. “I’m serious. You break his heart, I break your face, and then I tell Hunk so he can break your face, and he’s scarier than I am.”

“Pidge,” Keith says, softening. Pidge scowls. Dammit. Why isn’t he quaking in terror? She’s scary! She knows she’s scary!

“Don’t ‘Pidge’ me,” she snaps. “I’m serious!”

“I know you’re serious,” he assures gently. “I am trying to tell you that I’m also serious about Lance.”

…Oh.

“…Oh,” she says. “So you’re not just fooling around? Because that’ll break his heart. He loves you.”

Keith smiles, mushy and smitten. “I know. I love him, too. So much, Pidge. I love him desperately and wholly. Promise.”

Pidge stares at the ground, tears pricking at her eyes. On some level, she knew that. She knows Keith. She loves Keith, he’s one of her best friends.

But Lance is her brother. And she’s watched him get beaten down over and over again, get his heart stomped on, and still look at people with a watery smile and an assurance he’ll take care of it. She hates it. She hates that Lance has been hurt enough that he thinks that it’s expected or normal, that he’s responsible for other people’s shitty and jealous behaviour (looking at you, Iverson. You fuckin’ dick).

“I just want him to be safe,” she chokes out, and the tears start to fall.

“Oh, Pidge,” Keith breathes, and pulls her into a firm hug.

Pidge cries into his chest, hands clenched in his shirt, until she loses track of time. She cries for every time Lance put his heart on his sleeve and someone took advantage. She cries for every time he took his hurt with a smile and a flippant hand, only to feel that pain later.

She cries a little for Matt, too. For the hurt he had to handle all on his own. She cries for her brothers, her goofy boys with hearts of gold. The boys who think of other’s first and foremost, who sacrifice everything, and make everyone else smile as they do it. Her brothers.

Keith holds her through it, steadfast and strong. She cries for him, too, and how many times the universe has hurt him.

Eventually her tears subside, and she pulls away.

“Sorry for saying I was gonna break your face,” she sniffles.

Keith laughs. “No, you’re not.”

She smiles wryly, wiping her eyes. “You’re right.” He smiles again, punching her gently on the shoulder.

“I meant it, Pidge. I love him. I have always loved him, even when I hated him. I’ll love him forever, Pidge. I mean. It’s kind of hard not to.”

“I know,” she whispers. She sniffles one more time, turning to the door.

“Um, that’s really all I came for,” she says awkwardly. Keith grins.

“Just the threat.”

She smiles sheepishly. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he laughs, and she grins at him again before heading out the door.

“And, Pidge?” he calls, just as she steps out.

“Yeah?”

“If by some freak of nature I do break Lance’s heart, he’s gonna beat my ass himself. It certainly won’t be his first time.”

She snorts, remembering the tongue-lashing Keith got last time he ignored Lance on a mission.

Yeah. Her brother will be fine.

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strxnger-things · 1 year

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Show, don’t tell: Mike and El are not seeing eye-to-eye in S4

I’ve seen many posts about this before, but I just wanted to add my own two cents.

On my most recent rewatch of S4, it just seemed so obvious that Mike and El are not seeing eye-to-eye with each other.

Beyond the narrative choices made, the cinematography alone shows it to the audience in such a literal way that I can’t believe it wasn’t an intentional choice.

(Also, this reading of their scenes is irregardless of the opinion of Mike’s sexuality. Even if Mike were straight (he’s not), S4 depicts a couple who are not communicating honestly, and desperately pretending to the other that everything is okay. This season shows the audience that Mike and El are no longer compatible... if they ever were.)

As a piece of evidence all on its own, I think it’d be easy enough to debunk Mike wearing his sunglasses as having any sort of hidden meaning: he’s on vacation, it was probably really sunny outside, so it makes sense that he put his sunglasses on, right? As a costume choice, it also completes the wacky, adorable, ‘I’m-trying-hard-to-fit-in’ vibe he has going, because he clearly thinks this is how people dress in California.

However, not only is this not a standalone piece of evidence, it’s also curious to consider that this is the only time throughout the entire season that Mike and El share an inarguably romantic interaction, when they kiss.

When Mike removes his sunglasses, we only get about 2-3 seconds of what appears to be open, honest interaction between them:

... before El notices the “From, Mike” on the bouquet of flowers. Later, the audience learns that El’s unhappiness with the relationship has been growing for some time, because Mike won’t tell her he loves her - even more mysteriously, he’s never even written “Love, Mike” on any of his letters he sent her.

With both Mike and El continuing to pretend that all is fine between them, they continue to interact in a strange, phony way that feels over-the-top and false. It sort of feels like we’re watching an imitation of a romance movie airport reunion, rather than seeing any genuine emotion from both of these characters we’ve come to know (the only genuine moment we see is a glimpse of El’s disappointment and weariness when she initially reads ‘From, Mike’ again.)

More under the cut ‘cos this is probably going to be pretty long.

As mentioned in this post (watch the video!) Mike just... isn’t really looking at El at any point throughout the remainder of this scene. Instead, there are a lot of quick, furtive glances in her vague direction (and arguably, at Will) that indicate he’s very distracted. Again, Mike and El are only shown making genuine eye contact for one very brief moment, right at the end of the scene when he kisses her on the forehead (and they’re still playing their Everything Is Fine And We’re So Happy game).

Next we see Mike and El continuing their strange charade at the roller rink, and still, they’re barely making any eye contact. Not whilst on the rink, not when fetching their skates, not when they’re sat at the table. It’s all quick, emotionless, detached looks, like there’s some weird disconnect between them.

After El’s lies of the past six months come to light, the charade of the happy couple is finally broken. After this, the camera deliberately shows Mike and El’s mutual refusal to make eye contact with the other. There’s no point in pretending anymore: things are not okay between them.

At the beginning of the following scene, El’s back is turned. When she finally turns to face Mike so they can look each other in the eye, she’s now standing over him. There’s a visual imbalance; they’re not on the same level (literally and figuratively).

When we finally get to see genuine eye contact between Mike and El, it’s during a scene that is directly juxtaposed with one between Mike and Will. The difference between the two scenes is stark, as has been pointed out plenty of times (special shoutout to “You never say it / I say it” and “I didn’t say it / You didn’t have to”).

Beyond the obvious narrative choices (a fight and break up / an apology and reconciliation), we also see how Will initially has his back turned to Mike, but keeps turning to make prolonged eye contact with him. Eventually, he turns his body towards Mike, remaining at a similar eye level.

It’s this deliberate positioning that creates the emotional tension in Mike and Will’s scene: they’re eye-to-eye, on the same level, their eye contact uninterrupted for several long moments. They’re in sync with each other. They’re connected. (Again, this reading is irregardless of Mike’s sexuality or any preferred ship. I’m just reading what the cinematography and direction is putting down. At this point in the show’s timeline, Mike and Will’s ten year long friendship is blatantly shown as the more compatible bond in comparison to Mike and El’s tumultuous and uncertain relationship.)

After El and Mike’s fight, El is arrested. Whilst there are honest emotions displayed during the scene where she’s taken away in the police van, there’s still a visual imbalance. Mike stands at the window with the promise to fix the situation, whilst El sits detatched and weary once again, her eye contact hesitant. As the police van retreats, we see the distance physically grow between them. (I personally believe that moment was symbolic of El finally letting go of Mike in a romantic sense, but that’s not what this post is about). The most genuine shot we get of Mike and El in this entire season is this reunion in the desert:

In this moment, however brief, Mike and El are on the same page. The relief and love shared between the two is palpable. It’s a deliberate close up shot (just as deliberate as the blocking of Will stood on his marker in the background, but again, that’s not what this post is about). Despite their relationship issues, it’s clear that they care deeply for each other, and Mike is obviously glad to see that El is still alive after learning she was being hunted by the government.

We get one more visual clue/costume choice that, along with the rest of what I’ve talked about in this post, could be another indication that something is still preventing Mike and El from fully seeing eye-to-eye:

This is probably my favorite moment between the two, simply because we get to see Mike acting... well, more like himself for the first (and only) time with El this season. He’s allowing himself to be goofy. He wants things to remain light-hearted. He wants to cheer her up, and make her laugh. However, the air isn’t fully clear between them. Things remain unspoken, unresolved. El smiles fondly, but she knows that, after their fight, it’s finally time to speak openly and honestly with each other. The cinematography shows that they’re finally on the same level, eye-to-eye, truly looking at the other...

... only, before we get to hear what El actually wanted to discuss with Mike, we’re all interrupted by Argyle. ^ This is the peak of Mike and El’s mutual understanding this season.

Because after that, we’re left with the infamous monologue scene. Here, we’re shown a visual imbalance yet again. Instead of an improvement, we’re going backwards. Not only are Mike and El now on different planes of existence, El cannot even see Mike as he gives her his monologue, let alone maintain eye contact. She has her eyes shut, completely blind, trapped, and unable to respond.

The only reaction we see are her facial expressions, which alone as a storytelling device is a deliberately ambiguous choice of the writers and directors to use. They want the audience to keep guessing how El feels about everything Mike said until the end of this narrative arc (which we’ll get to in the final season).

To finish up, we see El and Mike sitting apart in the van. There is no interaction between them. The scene in the hospital room briefly shows El placing her head on Mike’s chest, whilst he wraps an arm around her shoulder. They’re comforting each other in their grief, which indicates they’re on good terms - however, it’s important to remember that this entire scene is more about Max’s death than anything else. We learn through Mike and Will’s shared look that El has not opened up to anyone about restarting Max’s heart.

We don’t get a single verbal interaction between Mike and El after the monologue, and instead we’re told that El is keeping her distance (“Did she... talk to you at all? / Not much. I mean, a little.”) Again, this is clearly a deliberate choice to keep the audience hooked until the next season. This storyline is not over. It’s one of many cliffhangers written into the show so that we all tune in to Season 5 to see what happens next. If we pay attention to El’s behavior in the cabin at the end of the season, it’s obvious that she’s displeased with Mike and/or Will. It’s up to us as an audience to speculate why that could be, and try to fill in the gaps. Bonus last shot:

TL;DR: M*leven is bones

#I don't believe mike is straight but i think it's even more obvious that m*leven is in trouble when you realise #that IF you read these scenes thinking mike was straight (lol)#it doesn't change anything between mike and el #they're unhappy #that monologue didn't magically fix everything #they're incompatible and the show made a lot of effort to show it #st4 thoughts #anti m*leven #byler #<- target audience #long post

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