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dimepdf · 2 years

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𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐔𝐓. + 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. maybe you did have a skirt kink?

pairing. football player!gojo satoru x reader

word count. 3.4K

genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni, football player au, mutual pinning, pwp, don't squint at the plot too hard now, idk how sports work, secret relationship, hookups, commitment issues, skirt kink, jealousy, heated kissing, teasing, touchy gojo, pussy drunk, car sex, backseat sex, oral (f), fingering, slight bratty reader, mentions of praise kink, name calling, pet names, unprotected sex(wrap before you tap), leather against skin, NOT BETA'D | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

It was the night of Gojo’s homecoming game. Football players spread across the field as the crowd roared, cheering for their respective university teams.

In all honesty, you didn’t know little to anything about football, let alone sports, flinching out every time the students that sat on the bleachers next to you would scream out in excitement or shoot up from their seats to clap and cheer.

The word "bored" doesn't accurately convey how uninterested you were and how little you knew about college football. You didn't feel much better not understanding a single event that had unfolded while sitting in the brisk fall air.

Your ears and fingers were nearly numb from the absence of sufficient warming layers on your body, and you were shivering in the denim jacket you had stolen from Gojo's closet.

As the game entered the fourth quarter, you were trembling with each gust of wind and fidgeting with the gem-layered pendant that rested against your chest.

It was obvious from the scoreboard, which you had to squint your eyes to see from the stands, that Gojo's team would win. The final score resulting, 38-14, caused students to stand up and shout in unbridled joy as the rest of the football team ran towards the field to celebrate their victory.

You still felt out of place despite being surrounded by so much school spirit, chanting, and screaming. In an effort to blend in with the crowd as much as possible, you sat as far away from the field as you could.

Watching Gojo celebrate with his teammates, shouting out in excitement and playfully tackling them into hugs, his long arms slinging over players so effortlessly, you couldn't help but smile to yourself.

You found it strange to hear other women gossiping and giggling about Gojo, saying things that you would utterly concur with.

But the rumor that he was a sex god and was extremely strict about who he chose to hook up with was what you despised the most. How only the luckiest of pretty girls would he tempt back to his bedroom.

Even though you were hooking up with Gojo and had plans to return to his apartment tonight to give him some, you resisted the urge to lean in and let everyone know because you knew that doing so would make you appear crazy.

Realizing this would make you a colossal hypocrite since you were the ones who caused the difficulties in your relationship with Gojo.

Being overly protective of your own heart and unwilling to let the blue-eyed playboy with a long history of "sleeping around" have to close a relationship with you.

You managed to make out his trademark white hair, which is typically styled but was now pulled back over his eyes.

You also noticed his prince charming smile, the skin that peaked out from under his jersey, and the figure that shimmered from the sweat drips covering his entire body, making him look like a magazine model under the field lights.

His eyes scanned the sea of people until they finally met yours, sending a chill down your spine.

When he saw you so out of your element and knew you were doing it specifically for him, his Chester-like smile only got bigger.

He winked as he returned his focus to his coach, leaving you fiddling against the bitterly cold bleacher seats as well as the girls seated in front of you giggling as if the gesture was intended only for them to lean against each other in an out-of-control fit.

You reminded yourself that the only reason you had endured it all was because of the stupid deal Gojo had made with you as your hands clenched against your thighs in frustration.

“How about we make a little bet ___, if i win this game you have to give me a special reward.”

Any bet you placed with Gojo was akin to making a deal with the devil himself.

The winding game of cat and mouse with you resolutely giving in to his childish antics, beckoning your attention until you fall back into his trap with enough time to have you pressed against the cool tile of the guy's locker room way after practice hours.

Fucking you stupid until you gain back that tiny sense of commitment-related fear by ignoring him entirely the next day.

Gojo and you had been hooking up for long enough for him to understand that every time you pulled away, he would just snap back much harder despite your foul mood.

When you needed a quick reminder of how good he would make you feel or how well he already knew your body to turn you into a trembling mess unable to stand up by yourself, he was always there with open arms.

And each time you fall for it. The dick was simply too good to throw away entirely.

Because of this, you kept up your end of the bargain, swallowing the last of your pride, and stood in the parking lot's darkness to observe how the other students filed through the gates along the curb.

Around the time Gojo emerged from the locker room, the crowd had vanished quickly, going about their respective lives as they drove away in their cars.

Except for a few staff vehicles scattered about, the parking lot was deserted as you watched him approach closer while tossing his gym bag over his shoulder.

His phone initially caught his attention, not taking notice of you, swiping his thumb against the screen.

His head jerked up at the light ding notification from the phone in your pocket, and he followed it with his eyes, grinning to see you shivering by the curb for him.

He looked at your baggy outfit and lifted his brow, saying, "I'm going to be pretty disappointed if you aren't wearing my gift under that." He teases you by strolling past you with a yawn that seems uninterested, each long stride ending in the direction of his car as you simply followed his trail with a huff.

"Don't fucking worry. I've been freezing my ass the entire game wearing this stupid thing." Unbutton until the midsection of your torso to show a glimpse of the brightly colored cropped cheer uniform top you had tucked away under the fuzzy inside of his jacket, deciding there would be no harm in just giving him a peek.

The cut ending just under the curve of your ribs exposes the pudge of your stomach entirely. The uniform was very obviously designed for cookie-cutter, precisely shaped cheerleaders with pale skin, ponytails, and thin bodies who looked like they belonged in any stereotypical teen movie.

Gojo almost drooled at the material you had to squeeze yourself into, clinging to every curve and crevice of your body.

You pulled the hem down, but it still didn't cover much since you could see the skin of your torso next to the top's strangely clashing colors.

Gojo trapped you against the passenger side door, looming over you, and murmuring, "I think you've got to be the prettiest girl on the team ___." He spoke in a deep voice that made it difficult for you to look him in the eye, your thighs threatening to squeeze together as his hands crept under the jacket around your hips.

"Yeah, yeah, I know I look exactly like your basic ass type. Can you hurry and just unlock your car before someone fucking sees us already?" The Gojo was giving you all of his attention, but you were good at ignoring him to a point, pressing your palm flat against his muscular chest.

His fingers reached out to grab you by the jaw as he only leaned in closer, maintaining his smile the entire time. He did this to forcefully draw all of your attention to him.

"That’s not very school spirit of you, ___. Shouldn’t you be congratulating me on winning?" It was all an act to enrage you even more, but it was working due to the pout on his lips and the way he glared down at you.

You try to stop your heart from racing by pulling your face away from his hold and crossing your arms.

It appeared as though he had cornered you and was treating you like prey—just another bug that had gotten caught in his web. You could feel Gojo's words brushing against your skin as he hummed, "You know, you have such a fucking potty mouth," sending a shiver up your spine.

His long fingers caressed your hips as he purposefully wedged his leg between yours. His light touch now extended under the jacket with both of his hands.

He pressed against you until you could feel the print of his erection against your stomach as your back rested against the car window. "I’ll forgive you if you show me the skirt."

"Gojo." In a plea, you breathe out his name.

The last thing you wanted to do was to be caught flaunting some poor girl's stolen uniform when you were already feeling self-conscious about only showing the top.

"___." He rolled his eyes and moved away, saying, "That's too bad, I only give rides to pretty girls in skirts." In a bored tone, he told you. His normally innocent smile had been replaced by an uninterested glare as he cocked his head.

He was practically swinging bait in your face, and you knew that the only thing he seemed to enjoy more than playing football was teasing you.

As a result, you became the first to play along with his scheme.

As you reached down and untied your sweatpants, shimming to pull them down to your thighs, a matching skirt set was revealed from beneath the gray cotton, his eyes never leaving yours until you broke eye contact first.

He breathed out at the view of your thighs crammed into the snug cuffed ends of the skirt's safety shorts watching as his eyes take in the sight of your body.

You weren't sure why you were acting so shocked when Gojo chuckled and reached out to pinch the plush of your legs, but he quickly pulled back before he could become overly excited by touching you.

"Okay, you've persuaded both my dick and me. If you don't want me to fuck you in the open parking lot, get in the car, slut."

The journey to wherever he was taking you seemed a lot worse to you. Your exposed thigh is being squeezed by his hand, which seems to be rising steadily.

If you knew he was going to tease you for the next twenty minutes, you would much rather have him fuck you in the parking lot. Not enough of the music blaring from the radio could help you calm down as you writhed at the growing need from beneath your skirt.

Even with the sun gone and the roads seeming like a maze at night, you could tell from the turns and exits which spot he had turned into.

His fingers danced across the precarious line of fingering you in his car or not while his eyes were fixed firmly on the road.

You even spread your legs wide to get the perfect angle for his hand, but he moved quickly to step back just far enough to deny you what you were pleading for.

What a fucking tease.

"You're so fucking insufferable," you grumbled, causing him to laugh heartily.

"Oh, shut the fuck up," he quips. "You act like you're not eating this shit up."

"You think I like being dressed like this?"

"You agreed to it," he reminded you, his hand laying a teasing smack against your thigh. "Just admit that you fantasize about being folded like some cheap slut in a porno. I won't kink shame, angel."

"Don't call me that," you whined. "I’m not some fucking slut."

“Well yeah duh,” he grinned side eyeing you only for a second. “But you’ll sound like one when I'm done with you.”

He backed into a more private space further into the deserted parking lot, engaged the car in park, and turned the radio volume down until it was barely audible over the sound of the late night.

He slapped his hands against the steering wheel, leaned back against his seat, let out an exasperated sigh, and then grinned impishly in your direction.

“The stars look just as pretty as you, ___.”

"Oh yeah, and how many girls do you usually say that to?" Rolling your eyes, you tried to contain the warmth that accompanied the sincere compliment.

"Only to the cheap sluts that I really want to fuck." He responded dryly, watching with a gulp as his eyes glanced at your lips. "You’re driving me crazy, baby." He finally snapped, leaning over the dash to kiss you, only being able to hold the whole arrogant persona for so long before he needed you as much as you needed him.

You couldn't claim to have much prior experience having sex in a vehicle.

His room or yours would typically be where the two of you would spend time alone, but since your roommates were home and Gojo's fraternity was probably packed with people throwing a party in his honor, you had to make do with getting down in his car.

Holding yourself in place and pushing yourself closer so that you wouldn't completely topple forward, all you had to do was twist and strain.

You could just tell from the low grunts and small sighs that Gojo was getting a bit frustrated, his long limbs cramped into the small space. "Can’t you just sneak me into your place?"

"Oh yeah, you could just introduce yourself to my roommates while your balls are deep inside of me, maybe even shake my parent's hand and tell them about your skirt kink too."

"God, you're such a fucking bitch." Gojo sighed, nipping at your bottom lip, "you're lucky I'm into that." Gojo sighed, licking his lips before opening his door.

After he slammed the door shut, the overhead light flickered, and you puzzledly watched as he opened the back door rather than crawling into his seat before turning to you with an expectant look that beckoned you to join him.

You managed to crawl through the seats with a bit of a struggle, settling yourself against the other door as Gojo guided your legs apart to make room to slot himself in. "Best gift ever," he muttered as you changed into your full-fledged outfit, shedding the jacket and sweats that had covered you to the ground.

The moment that Gojo had ducked under the hem of your skirt, your fingers tangled a handful of his hair in a fist, shivering at his eagerness, feeling his teeth tease against the skin of your thigh. Finally, paying much attention to the eagerness between them, his fingers probed and nudged against your clit until he had hooked your underwear to the side.

Your body responded before you could even process what was happening. His tongue teased at your clit, his fingers dipped between your folds, and the sound of your breathy groans spurred him on to move swiftly.

With your needy whimpers, fingers clamping down firmly in the nest of his hair, grinding against his fingers, and the sensation of your legs twitching and quivering, just the taste of you on his tongue was like unwrapping another reward.

However, you weren't a fool.

You were aware of how pussy drunk Gojo became each time he would eat you out, usually wanting to have you stumble out his name with tears threatening to prickle your eyes. When it came to going down on you, he was the type to lick the plate clean.

This is why you were taken aback when Gojo suddenly stopped and raised the material on your skirt to look you in the eyes.

He continued to work his fingers in and out of you as if he weren't attempting to carry on a conversation while teasing, "Be honest, you so have a skirt kink."

As you attempted to comprehend the question, let alone provide a sarcastic response, your lashes fluttered and your head spun.

Any train of thought that tried to escape your mind as Gojo's fingers worked their magic "I-i'm." is the only thing you could stutter out.

"I-I, you what baby?" His laughter made you squint your eyes shut, and you covered your face with your hands as he mocked you in a flat tone.

Gojo leaned up and grabbed you by the wrist, pulling your hands away from your face to give you a more delicate kiss on the lips, muttering mostly to himself, "You're so cute."

Leaning into his touch, you suddenly felt his fingers pull away from you, making a humiliating wet sound that you ignored since Gojo had already diverted his attention to another part of your body. He was fondling your breast through the crop top as his fingers explored.

You could tell from the way Gojo smiled against your mouth that he was biting back on making some stupid joke the moment that his fingers made out the bud of your nipples.

As he pulls away, his other hand switches back to tracing the plush of your thighs before quickly removing your skirt.

He peeled it off of you without a bat of the eye, not wanting to struggle with the safety shorts that were sewn in under it like he had to do when he had blindly gone down on you.

Bumping his elbow and leg against leather seats as he sat up trying to strip his own shirt, a loud thump jortles you from your daze. Only then had you realized Gojo’s hiss of pain.

His normally pale face was now flushed pink, and he scrunched his brow, rubbing the back of his head. "This is the thanks I get for having such a big dick.”

He leaned back down, perfectly squeezing himself between your spread legs, and asked, "Wanna kiss it better?" while getting dangerously close to your lips. He didn't wait for a response simply because he could tell you were only glancing at his lips.

His head dove to hide in the crook of your neck with a grunt, as your fingers searched for the bulge that reacted with a twitch after you had grabbed him by the elastic of his shorts.

You didn't hesitate, never did, knowing what you both wanted as his fingers spread your pussy apart.

You couldn't help but feel intoxicated while listening to his shift in breathing as your hand guided his length to press against exactly where you wanted it.

Sharing a relieved gasp as he shifted his hips against yours, the feeling of him burying himself inside you completely, Gojo was too lost in the bliss to joke about how good it felt to have you clench around him.

Your hips move in unison, seemingly motivated by a primal urge to pursue the intense arousing sensation that had been building up.

Gojo, rubbing his thumb in circles against your clit while whimpering into your neck about how gorgeous you were.

As the intensity of his thrusts increased, steam built up on the car's windows, and the air became humid as the car's slight creak gave way to the weight shifting inside.

Few actual words were spoken because the two of you were too preoccupied with making each other feel good to even form sentences that had any proper finishes.

Gojo readjusted himself, finding the spot that caused your muscles to tighten and spasm. Hooking your leg over his shoulder, nearly causing it to hit the ceiling as he grunted at you while clenching around you continuing his pace until your orgasm unfurled.

Despite being athletic, Gojo went completely slack, falling with his entire weight against your chest, panting as if he were in practice running a mile.

He found calm in the thump of his heartbeat against your chest. "Hey, so about the roommate thing," Gojo spoke after he had eventually caught his breath, cuddling against your chest as his fingers played with your pendant. "I wouldn't mind meeting them, or your parents, or telling anyone honestly; I just would prefer to do it fully clothed if that's okay."

You blinked. "You mean you want this to be like an official thing?" you asked, finally working up enough energy to sit up against the side of the door.

Wincing at the uncomfortable feeling of your sweaty bare skin dragging against the leather material of the seats. "Like this, you no longer refer to me as a slut but as your girlfriend instead."

"Well, I still want you to be my slut, but calling you girlfriend doesn't sound too bad either, does it?" Gojo shrugged.

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#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujust kaisen x reader #jjk smut #satoru gojo x reader #jujustu kaisen #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru #jjk

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lxndonorris · 3 months

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new season, new suit - Charles Leclerc (SFS24)

Y/N x Charles Leclerc Theme: Smut (you've been warned) Theme: you're attending the ferrari photoshoot, watching Charles pose like the model he is. What happens when he invites you to the changing room? word count: 2080+ taglist: @game-set-canet the second installment of the suit fitting saga 2024.

Your heart buzzes with anticipation as the new Formula 1 season looms on the horizon, and Charles, your boyfriend and a professional racing driver for Scuderia Ferrari, is in the midst of a photoshoot for his team's new gear.

The vibrant red racing suit, tailored to perfection, hugs his athletic frame like a second skin, accentuating every contour and muscle. Throughout the last few years, he has been a part of the Ferrari family, and they always manage to create such beautiful suits for him and his teammate.

You watch Charles and Carlos strike poses, standing right next to each other, as the guy with the huge camera tells them what to do next.

When he invited you to join him for the shoot, you couldn't resist the opportunity to witness him in his element and, obviously, see the new suit on him.

As he strikes pose after pose, his smile contagiuos and his eyes sparkling with excitement, your heart swells with pride. Charles looks so handsome, with the fabric of the suit flowing perfectly across his firm body, accentuating all the right spots.

Anytime he moves, you can't help but admire his physique: his big biceps bulging, his thick thighs, and his strong frame—just perfect. You feel a sudden rush of joy and excitement, knowing that he wants you there by his side.

With each click of the camera, you find yourself falling even more deeply in love with him.

Then Carlos walks away, looking at the pictures through the screen as Charles sits down, ready for another round.

That's when your eyes meet from across the room, and you notice a familiar glint of longing desire burning in his eyes. Charles licks his lips, lifts his chin, and strikes another pose: he runs a hand across his chest firmly, dragging the suit's fabric acoss as his hand reaches his neck.

He takes a deep breath while resting his other hand casually on his thighs, right after he subtly strokes himself some more.

It feels like he is posing just for you, his gaze seeking yours amidst the whirlwind of activity surrounding us.

It's nearly impossible to look away until he focuses on the camera once more. Tension is building up inside your belly and chest, sending several shivers down your spine.

For a moment, you look around. Someone might have watched this, exposing his teasing nature, but nobody reacts—just you.

That's when he strikes another pose, looking for your eyes once again. Sparks are flying when he opens his mouth, posing like a real model would, while his burning gaze pulls you in.

You notice his hands now stroking his chest shortly before a sly smirk creeps on his lips—the same smirk he would give you before kissing you in bed.

Letting out a low sigh, you regain your composure, but the thought of him on top of you, kissing you while encompassing your entire body with his soft hands, gives you goosebumps.

You hear his voice inside your mind—a mere whisper, a soft moan—as he grinds his hips on yours. With his hand around your neck, he keeps on kissing you, pinning you to the bed. His desire presses against your thighs, asking for one special thing.

"That's it for now." The photographer's voice snaps you out of your daydreaming. He captures the last few shots before Charles regains his stance, running his hands one last time across his chest before approaching the computer.

They talk for a little while, while you can't help but sink back into that daydream. Closing your eyes, you try to push these thoughts away, but his low groans echo through every fiber of your body.

"Well, what do you think?" Charles' voice makes you jump slightly, and you open your eyes to find him standing right in front of you, a coy smile forming in the corner of his lips. "How do I look?"

"Stunning." You reply, letting your eyes wander all over him, noticing how firm his body has grown due to the excitement and tension building up throughout the shoot.

With a chuckle, Charles leans in close, his lips brushing against yours in a sweet and tender kiss.

"Carlos, your turn." A voice echoes through the studio as Carlos takes the stage.

Both of you turn to watch him perform, just as well as Charles did before him.

Then, however, Charles leans into you again, his lips inches away from your ear.

"I hope you know how happy I am that you're here today." He breathes against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"Thanks for the invitation." You turn to meet his gaze; his eyes sparkle in mischief.

Both of you turn back to watch Carlos strike another pose, but then Charles whispers into your ear again.

"I always feel so special wearing this gear." His voice is low and rough. "I want to share the first time wearing this suit with you."

You dare not look at him, trying to avoid his gaze, but you're way too hooked not to look at him.

He bites his lower lip, trying to swallow a mischievous smirk, but subconsciously, he strokes his chest again, letting his hand slide down his suit to the faint bulge forming in his trousers.

"You're an idiot." You chuckle quietly, grab his chin with your hand, and push him away playfully.

For a second, you just watch the shoot play out in front of you, but then he turns back to you.

"I can tell Carlos is feeling the same." He chuckles to himself, and you can see his eyes now checking out his teammate.

"How?" You ask carefully, and he just motions for you to watch Carlos.

"Just watch his body move, so deliberately yet so naturally," Charles says, "just the way his muscles bulge—his chest, arms, and thighs. Just like mine." He swallows hard before turning his face back to yours. "Could you tell?"

Breathing deeply, you nod slowly.

"Just so fucking good." Charles smiles, leans in, and kisses you again; this time, it's a much more passionate kiss.

As the photoshoot comes to an end and they talk about the pictures for a while, Charles turns to you with a playful grin, his eyes filled with warmth and affection.

"Care to join me backstage?" He asks, his voice low and husky—an offer you can't refuse.

With a nod, you take his hand, leading him toward the changing room. Luckily, each driver got their own little private area—enough space for the two of you to have some fun.

Inside, the air is filled with the scent of his cologne, wrapping you like a familiar embrace as he pulls you into him, his hands now tightly on your waist.

Steadying yourself against his strong frame, you take the opportunity to stroke his firm chest. His muscles are already as hard as rocks, and his clothes are barely able to contain his form.

With a gentle touch, you run your hands over the fabric of the suit, marveling at its sleek texture against your fingertips. It was like silk beneath your touch—smooth and luxurious.

As you explore the contours of his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles, Charles lets out a soft sigh, his eyes locking with yours in a silent exchange of desire. His hands run along your waistline to your arse, and you can't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through your veins.

Carefully, you unbutton the collar of his suit, exposing the zipper. You exchange a knowing look, and he lets you pull the zipper down, revealing the tight red fireproofs he is wearing underneath.

With a little help, his upper body slips out of his clothes, the sleeves now hanging down his waist.

His undergarments are even tighter, just like a second skin that drags across his muscles, his nipples, and down his thick biceps and shoulders.

With a playful grin, Charles flexes his muscles, the fabric of the fireproofs stretching taut against his athletic frame. Every ripple and bulge is accentuated, showcasing his physique in all its glory—a sight to behold—and you can't tear your eyes away from him.

"Like what you see?" he teases, his voice so rough.

"Absoluetly," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Because I need this so much." Charles leans into you, kissing you. His body presses against yours, and right away, his hips grind against yours.

Together, you make your way through the room until you come to a standstill. You're standing with your back against a wall, Charles' lips tightly on yours, while one hand is around your neck, stroking you gently.

In response, you stroke his chest again and again, causing him to purr happily right in your mouth. The faint scent of his cologne grows stronger, swirling all around you as he runs a hand across your chest, your boobs, and right between your legs.

"Charles." You tilt your head, letting out a low grunt.

"I'm so hard right now," he replies, letting out a guttural groan from deep down his throat. His burning desire is rubbing against your thighs. So good.

"Let me handle that." You smirk, and in one swift motion, you turn him around, pressing his back against the concrete wall.

A devious smirk tugs at his lips, knowing very well what you're offering.

Placing a hand at his neck, you trace his firm jawline with your fingertips, enjoying how his very light stubble tickles your skin.

You kiss him once, twice, again, and again, right on his lips, before you make your way down his chest.

"You're so handsome." Running your thumb along his soft, wet lips, you look into his eyes, causing him to take another deep breath. At the same time, you rub his member with the palm of your hand, as you know he enjoys that so much.

"You're gorgeous." He murmurs, his eyes wandering all over your face—from your lips to your cheeks and back to your eyes.

You let your hands run down his neck to his chest, firmly feeling his muscles through the fireproofs. You pinch his nipples—one of his sensitizing spots—causing him to swallow a long moan.

"That feels good." He breathes deeply.

Before you go any further, you pull his shirt up, exposing his beautiful, bare chest. At first, you trace his tangible abs with your index finger before you place longing kisses all over his skin.

Looking up, you catch him watching you closely. Charles licks his lips and strokes his own chest as you get on your knees.

With a little help from him, you manage to pull his suit down enough for him to present his length bulging through his undergarments.

"You're a big boy." You tease him by tracing the outlines of his member, causing him to smirk again.

"I've been hoping we would do that." He shakes his head, exhausted yet excited. "I couldn't think of anything else." His accent comes through slightly, making you smile.

By biting your lip at the sight of him struggling to keep a straight face, you won't edge him on any longer.

You pull his length out of his suit—it towers in front of you—and you take him in your mouth—a sensational, familiar feeling. His delicious taste spreads across your tongue while he takes several deep breaths, trying not to make too much noise.

As you move your mouth rhythmically, you watch his body follow your lead. All of him is longing for a much-needed release, and you're about to give it to him.

Charles strokes himself firmly, even leaning his head back against the wall.

"So good." He runs a hand through your hair, stroking you and holding you in place at the same time.

"Mhmm." You moan, enjoying his taste all over your mouth. Your body shakes, and you steady yourself against his thighs, much to his amusement.

"I'm so close." He growls, blinking a few times, before he can't help but release himself—fucking good.

You let go of him and separate yourself, watching him stroke his member before tugging it back into his underwear.

"You're a fucking goddess." He chuckles, reaching for your hand and pulling you into another loving kiss.

"Thanks for today." You say, stroking his chest gently while staring into his beautiful eyes.

"I need to thank you." Charles smiles, and you hug each other tightly.

Together, you get changed before you return to the others already waiting for you.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #Formula 1 smut #f1 smut #sfs24 #suit fitting saga 2024

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folkloreintime · 7 months

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beg you on my knees to stay

Taylor Swift x fem!reader smut

warnings: smut, oral(r!receiving), fingering(r!receiving), scissoring, fem!reader

word count: 1.8k

summary: Taylor teases you before she goes on stage and finishes the job after.

A/N: happy kinktober lol

There was a flurry of people around you, but they paid you no mind as makeup artists hustled to fix a patch on Taylor’s face and stylists walked around her checking every inch of her costumes. You had watched this from afar many times, Taylor having been on tour for 3 months now but it never got old. It was like seeing her in her true element, the dedication and passion the whole team exuded was truly a marvel.

You caught Taylor’s eye and she winked at you, her blonde eyebrows raised as somebody applied her classic red lipstick onto her stunning mouth. You shyly smiled back and rested your hand on your chin and studied her.

Her hair was pin straight and had a deep golden, it cascaded down her shoulders like ripples of silk. The bejeweled body suit she wore had flecks of blue and pink jewels that shimmered when they caught the light, they cinched her waist and made her figure look like that of a model, curved and voluptuous. Her thighs were adorned with a pair of waxy tights that made her legs look shiny and long. She was absolutely perfect.

During your examinations you hadn’t realised that the room had cleared out and it was now just you and Taylor, alone. “Hey,” her blue eyes were pointedly fixed on you, “What are you thinking about?” She tipped her head playfully and curled her red lips. You looked down in embarrassment that she had caught u staring at her but how could you not?

“You look great, as always. But today? you look, so gorgeous.” You swallowed as your breath hitched waiting for her to answer. To say something, anything. You would have hanged on to every word. Instead she just stayed silent, striding towards you in a slow manner.

She sat down next to you her legs crossed at her ankles and turned to you. She kissed you, her lips moved over yours in a pout and you inched impossibly closer just trying to grasp at anything she could give you. Her hand moved to your jaw, digging her thumb into it, the pressure made you open your mouth and a small breath tumbled out.

Slowly, you shifted your hands to her waist, feeling the sharp jewels under your fingertips frustrated you. You huffed and she pulled back, but only for a moment until she started to caress just below your breast. “Please, Taylor.” You moaned and threw your head back allowing her more access to your skin as she nipped and bit at your neck leaving subtle red marks dotted around the taut skin.

One of hand trailed the length of your stomach, sliding closer and closer to your center while she kept the other firmly planted on your tits, pushing and caressing it with the palm of her hand. She hummed against your skin and undid the button of your jeans. Effortlessly, Taylor slid her hand between your legs to find your wetness waiting for her. You gasped as she lazily circled your clit, the pressure was so light you could barely tolerate it but she torturously kept the pace.

You were in bliss, feeling her lips on your shoulder, peppering kisses, her hands trailing your body and the desperation of her blazing skin touching yours. She began to speed up her machinations, intermittently pressing hard on your clit, smearing the wetness around with her fingers and in return you gave her mewls and groans of pleasure which fuelled her.

Suddenly, your broken out of your pleasurable stupor and you here a muffled voice, “They are ready for you in 5, Taylor.” It was the stage manager in her earpiece. Just as quick as she had came on to you she was off of you, leaving a distinct coldness and you felt like you could collapse into a puddle of sand as she left you high and dry. You watched her through bleak eyes as she fixed her lipstick in the mirror as if she hadn’t been maliciously teasing your orgasm out of you 2 seconds ago.

She left with a wink and the scent of her perfume still lingered as well as the feel of her on you when she left the room. You felt a twinge of disappointment as you turned your back to the live monitor of the stage in the room. The show was starting and you knew it would be a long time coming before you and Taylor could finish what you started so you decided to get comfortable.

Watching Taylor perform was akin to watching a pianist perform their most beloved piece or a ballerina perform the most intricate of dances, she was passionate and a master of her craft. Like a moth to a flame she drew everyone in with her tantalising stage presence. The way she flexed her body and moved her hips during the dances was enchanting and her singing was saccharine and powerful.

You watched the whole show with a front row seat and full privacy which was appreciated but also incredibly difficult because all you wanted to do was drop on your knees for her and make her sing in a completely different way to what the people were seeing on stage.

You watched with brimming anticipation as the end of the show drew closer, you thought you could faint when you saw the ‘Vigilante Shit’ performance but you just bit your lip and waited patiently. Finally, Taylor did her closing number just as enthusiastically as her first number and exited the stage for the last time tonight.

The whole room was silent as the screen faded to black and you sat with excitement. Slowly, the door handle turned. Taylor stepped into the room, her hair was mussed from the air and her eyes glimmered from the adrenaline of the stage. She scanned the room and locked eyes with you, once again making her way over to you.

She pulled your face to her with an increasing ferocity and in between kisses she said, “I need you so bad.” She began to move you slightly backwards with her sheer height and stance alone and soon your back was on the couch and she hovered over you, thighs trapping yours. “I want you, Taylor.” You breathed out, hands finding hers and locking them together.

She moaned and lifted up your shirt, exposing the soft expanse of your stomach. She laid kisses down, until she reached your jeans and undid them pushing them haphazardly to the floor. Leaning forward, she pressed a soft kiss to your pussy through your underwear and you felt a wave of wetness overcome you. You threw your head back as she shoved your underwear to the floor.

Immediately, she licked a stripe up your pussy and the sensation sent shocks up your spine. She did not relent as Taylor sucked and pivoted her tongue around your clit, her nose pressing into your pubic bone. She slurped the wetness and pressed both her hands to either side of your knees, forcing you to keep your legs wide open. She breathed harder and began to flick her tongue against your clit and occasionally thrusting it into your tight hole.

You put your hands on her head, fingers tangling in her blonde locks as you propelled her head to move back and forth, essentially using her face to grind on. Her jaw moved expertly over your pussy and she leaned back and spat on it for good measure, instantly resuming her attempts. You felt a tugging sensation in your gut as you were so close to your climax and she coaxed you to the edge smacking and salivating all over you.

A burst of pleasure ran through you like a million little stars on fire throughout your soul, the grip on her hair tightened as she continued driving you through your orgasm, never relenting with the same enthusiasm. You keened and moaned out her name as breathe out raggedly. To your surprise, she looked up at you, chin dripping with your own wetness and spit and whispered, “Turn around and get on your knees.”

You looked at her in bewilderment, still a little shaky from your last orgasm but did exactly what she said. You planted your hands in front of you and knelt on the couch, facing away from Taylor. Suddenly, a forceful smack rang out in the room and your flesh stung. A red mark on your ass cheek appeared and before you could even gasp Taylor thrust her middle finger into your core.

You groaned from the mix of pain and pleasure and she started to move the finger in and out. She rubbed and soothed the hurt flesh with her hand until another resounding slap made its way to you. You grunted and she put another finger in. Your stomach was tensing and you could feel the wetness coating your thighs. Languidly, her fingers moved in and out of you at a fast pace and she would give you small encouragements when she felt like it.

“Doing so good for me, baby. Can you cum for me?” Her voice was raspy with indulgence. Your honoured her commitment as your orgasm came faster this time, tipping you over the edge as your thighs shook and tightened around her and your moans intensified ringing out in the otherwise silent room. Breathing hard, you turned to face her and she cupped your jaw, “Did so well for me, dear.” Her blue eyes bore into yours as she began to strip from her costume.

“Can you give me one more? Just want one more from you, my beautiful girl.” Her thumb lightly caressed your cheek as you let out a sob still raw from your last two orgasms. “I’m gonna help you this time, okay?” She laid you down, her voice was sweet and soft. Taylor repositioned herself so she was now hovering over you, her pussy was just above your thigh and yours was anchored just so she would get the right amount of friction.

You made the first move and ground your thigh into her with the little strength you had. She sucked in a breath and put a hand on your stomach, “No, baby, let me.” You could have sobbed in relief when she started moving her own body back and forth, the pressure of her hot skin on your clit was achingly delicious. Her bangs covered her face as she looked down to see both of you so intimately connected.

Her pace quickly emerged and the room was mixed with echoes of your moans and each others names scrambled in between. Her hips reached an insane rhythm as her orgasm approached and she let out a striking moan, shutting her eyes in unfathomable pleasure. You came with her, unable to comprehend anything but her and the slurry of pleasure flitting sparks down your every nerve. She faltered and expertly moved to sit beside you in a heap of skin and bones.

After a few minutes of respite she moved your hair from your face and cradled you in her arms. You sank into her and could have stayed there forever.

end.

#taylor swift #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift smut #prisaylor #taylor swift imagine #taylor swift x fem!reader #taylor swift imagines #taylor swift headcanon #gaylor #smut #fem!reader smut

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omgthatdress · 1 year

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the major takeaway from last night is that Karl Lagerfeld was more of a personality than a designer and that Yves Saint Laurent was the clear winner of that rivalry.

For those who aren’t familiar, Karl Lagerfeld and Yves Saint Laurent were both fashion wunderkinds who emerged in the late 1950s, both appointed heads of major brands at the same time, and had very intense rivalry. Yves Saint Laurent took over Dior after the passing of Christian Dior, helped cement the brand as a major player in fashion, and then after a disastrous stint being drafted into the French army, built his own fashion brand that went down in history with its unique and diverse and always evolving looks.

Karl was always kind of behind Yves. He designed for a lot of major fashion brands, and managed to establish himself at the top of the game at Chloé, but he didn’t get his full on legendary status until he took over Chanel in 1983. This history of the Chanel brand was already pretty frought, with Coco Chanel modernizing and defining the fashion of the 1920s and 30s, but being forced to shut down during World War 2, during which she collaborated with the Nazis. Behind the Bastards did a pretty great two episodes on her. When the brand returned in the 60s, fashion had changed tremendously. Dior, Givenchy, Balenciaga, and Balmain had all taken over mid-century fashion, and now that aesthetic was being taken over by mod, the miniskirt, and the likes of Mary Quant, Pierre Cardin, and Paco Rabanne. So when Chanel came back it was largely seen as a stuffy old lady brand, which it remained until Karl took it over.

Now, this is where Karl actually did something really impressive that you honestly can’t take away from him: he took a fashion house in severe decline, one that had been in its flop era for literal decades, and he made it hip again, while still managing to stay true to the ethos that Coco Chanel had laid out.

Chanel is clean, minimalistic, and classy. It is easy to wear, effortless, and always extremely glamorous, which is what made it so iconic in the 20s and 30s. Given that the 50s and 60s were all about making a fucking effort, the thing that the brand managed to keep doing well was its suits. You know what kind of suits I’m talking about. Tweed jackets and midi skirts, neat tailoring, delicate pastel colors, pearls and camellias and chains. It’s not so much that it was edgy and exciting but it was expensive and it was *Chanel* and people wore it for the status symbol alone. That is what Karl took advantage of and managed to re-invent.

That sort of aesthetic fit perfectly into the you-can-never-be-too-rich-or-too-skinny 80s, when wearing status symbol clothing was everything.

Then, in the 90s, he managed to keep things exciting by following exactly what was on-trend at the time and incorporating elements of street wear and hip-hop.

However, after that, he kind of lost his edge and just rested on “it’s Chanel” rather than actually pushing the fashion envelope. By the time he died in 2019, he was a fucking dinosaur and fashion had long since moved past him. The thing that he was ultimately most well known for was his own very distinctive look and flamboyant personality.

Before I ever started studying fashion, I knew who Karl was because I’d seen him so many times, and I’d seen parodies of him so many times. I knew *him* but I didn’t really know his work. And I think having an incredibly boring Met Gala dedicated to him reveals that: his actual artistic legacy is skinnier than the models he used to berate. Karl Lagerfeld built his brand on his diva personality, and that sort of personality and outlook just isn’t hip anymore. Fashion is always about moving forward, and Lagerfeld’s beliefs should remain fossilized in the past.

#Karl Lagerfeld #Met Gala

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obey-me-disaster · 10 months

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Hey there! How’s it going? If I may, can I request some headcaons on the obey me brothers trying to seduce MC? Please and thank you!

These guys have to literally take a 'seductive speechcraft' class at RAD, in theory they should be good at seducing, in practice not so much

Warning: slightly NSFW

Obey me brothers trying to seduce MC

Lucifer

He keeps it simple. He doesn't see the point of doing complicated mind games when he knows that MC will choose him. That's not to say he won't try to win MC over or make them feel special.

Between Lucifer encouraging MC to be bolder when it comes to their advances and his confidence there isn't anything that could go wrong, in his mind at least.

He is often assertive in a way that would make MC feel like being swooped off their feet while still leaving room for them to refuse. He will make sure they know he will take care of all of their desires.

He often invites them over, either to his study room or the music room to spend some time alone together where he can be more forward.

Mammon

Mammon is really smooth when it comes to flirting and seducing, just not when it comes to MC.

He is too caught up between being a tsundure and just being genuinely worried about making them uncomfortable by being too forward. Still, after a while he will get over some of his worries, he is MC's first man after all!

He is one of the most sought after models in the entire Devildom, he knows how to use his looks in his favour and how to get people's attention, especially MC's.

With how much time he spends with them, Mammon knows how to make MC feel like they are the only person that matters to him and to make them think about only him.

That also includes what words to say and in what way too touch them. Still, he always leaves it up to MC to decide if they want to take it further. He will let them take control so they could go at their own pace.

Leviathan

Tries to think of it like MC is a love interest in a video game, otherwise he would never be able to do it.

Tries to kabedon MC and it works at first, until he realizes how close the two of them are and panics.

Depending on the MC, his cringefail personality and being borderline pathetic and endearing at the same time would probably do the trick and seduce them imeanitworkedonme

Still, he has his moments where he can be more dominant! Especially if it would be in a virtual world, where he is more in his element. Sure, he would still be nervous but he would actually manage to flirt with MC.

To add to the previous point, he actually did that in a devilgram, where he lowered one of the sits in the car and told MC he could be in charge too.

Also I am sure he has at least 3 slutty cosplays. All he needs is a little bit of courage and he could use them.

Satan

A really by the book approach, the type of thing you would see in books. He has a lot of connections but most of them were not made by seducing other demons.

His attempts would be a bit awkward at first, feeling a little bit too stiff, but after observing to what MC responds the best he will start to get better at it.

Does MC respond better to words? Well he doesn't have high grades in seductive speechcraft for nothing. He knows how to get MC wrapped around his finger. Starting from innocent remarks to comments that would leave MC's imagination run wild.

Do they like physical touches more? He may be a little bit more awkward but nothing that MC would notice.

He is probably experimenting with new feelings too, cause seducing MC, someone he actually fell for, is way more different than his normal seductive speechcraft.

Asmodeus

Literally the best, that's his whole thing. Sure he has his eyes to help him, but he has been a lust demon for a long time, he knows how to seduce someone without magic. And like Mammon, he knows how to use his body to get other people's attention towards him and his body.

Has the best combination of lingering touches that just leave you wanting for more and of words the can be left up for interpretation, really making MC think that they want Asmo even without all the seduction.

He knows just from looking at MC's slightest change of reactions when to stop or when to push forward. He knows how far he can go with exploring their body without ruining the sexual tension. He would get them so riled up that MC would be the one initiating anything. In his mind he is just giving them a little push.

He also loves to tease them throughout the day only to disappear, leaving them wanting for more. He doesn't need to even see to know that he is all they can think about.

Beelzebub

I will be sincere, I don't think he really knows how to seduce people in the traditional sense. He would probably seduce MC by accident.

He would just call them in order to record his workout routine and when MC would get there he would be shirtless and sweaty, and they would have to sit behind a camera filming a shirtless Beel literally flexing his muscle

He would also lick food right off MC if they happened to drop some on themself. He literally licked wiped cream off MC's fingers in season 2.

He does all of these things by accident, and while he may be oblivious and not the best at seducing he isn't dumb. He will see how MC reacts and will start doing these things more often.

He would probably make them help him with his workout so MC could really get close to him to see and touch his muscles. post work out sex I am just saying

Belphegor

He really takes advantage off all the time cuddling with MC to see how far he can go when it comes to touching them, while still making sure they are comfortable.

It starts either with a hug from behind when MC is doing something else or with simple cuddles. His hands will start to wonder just slightly under their shirt or just barely over their thighs all while trying too see their reaction.

Everything he would say would be done so either with his face in the crook of their neck or as a whisper near MC's ear. It probably just be normal stuff at first, but the more he sees MC get into it the more he will start going about what he would actually want to do with them.

It's a really slow process but the little shit knows how to use his words and from what started as innocent cuddles it leads to MC doing nearly whatever he wants.

I also feel like he would go into their dreams and try to seduce them there too. This would led to MC having to seek Belphie out once they wake up from that dream.

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saekkas · 10 months

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𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

summary: dates with michael kaiser are fun, more so when they turn into a three-hour sanrio shopping spree.

notes: this is my attempt at spoiling him <3 also big thanks to @mirahua for the inspo! go ahead and *grabby grabby*

[wc: 915]

"do you really need to buy that much?" you honestly don't know what you're looking at, and you honestly don't know whether to be concerned or amused. "you're going to rob this whole store clean."

currently, it's the beginning of july, and kaiser, being the lovely boyfriend that he is, insisted on taking you out to the mall. window shopping, he called it.

more correctly, you're taking him shopping. especially with the way he's currently filling up your trolley with sanrio plushies.

"stop judging." kaiser glares, all pout and no bite. in his hand is a small cinnamoroll plush, one that looks suspiciously like him with blue eyes and blue star patterns on its ear.

he's holding it with such love and care, and you have to stop yourself from snorting when he lifts it so that they're face-to-face. "besides, how can you resist? he looks exactly like me!"

"that's exactly why i can resist."

your words catch his attention, and he scowls, playfully hitting your face with the plush toy's hand. "how dare you!"

"i'm kidding," you laugh, nudging him back with the hand that's not pushing the trolley. "but when i see headlines of you robbing a miniso, i'm totally sending them to ness."

his lips aren't the only one smiling. his eyes are bright, his shoulders seemingly light. your boyfriend looks like a child here, comfortably in his element, even with the people staring oddly at him.

it makes you happy that he's happy. it's enlightening to see the mikka that could be. the mikka that should be.

"yeah, yeah, whatever." even his words hold a sweet lilt to them, and you can't even bring yourself to complain when he throws a hello kitty themed soda can into the trolley. "i think i'm done."

you quirk an eyebrow, giggling as you survey every item he's managed to throw in. "aren't you forgetting something?"

you watch the flurry of emotions that pass through his face. confusion, confusion, and more confusion.

his eyes stray behind you, brightening as he extends a hand to show another sanrio plushy, this one modeled with him beside it.

"no," you laugh, wrestling the very cute toy out of his hand. "you've bought enough already!"

he pouts, and it's eerily similar to the toy he was holding earlier. "but don't you want a mini me at our house? a very special, limited addition mini me, part of the sanrio collaboration?"

"nice try but we should get the thing we actually came here for." you hold back a squeal when he tilts his head, looking oddly lost.

his cheeks have grown in lately, courtesy of your cooking, and now he's looking too much like baby mikka from the photos his mom showed when you came over. too cute to say no to.

"the very special, very limited addition hello kitty headband you wanted?" you watch as he perks up at the words, making a beeline to the other side of the shop right after.

you discreetly throw the plushy into the trolly as he leaves.

you suppose bringing your big baby of a boyfriend has its perks. not only does he come with a black card, but his fans are everywhere, letting him cut through the ridiculously long line of adults holding onto stuffed sanrio dolls.

"you should do some fanservice," you hum, holding onto a bag as he holds onto another, your free hands intertwined together. "blow some kisses or something."

there's a ruckus of screams as kaiser does just that, a smug smirk on his lips as he waves to his fans, tugging you to the exit with him. "they love me."

"careful, there." the screaming doesn't stop, not until you're both out of the mall and in the parking lot.

even then, there are a group of girls following you both around, smiling and giggling shyly, trying to catch his attention. "your head's going to become so big it won't fit through our door."

"why are you so mean?" he whines, pinching your cheek when you both finally get into his car. "don't you love me too?"

"nope." the words are out of your mouth in a second and he glares, taking your hand to squeeze it tightly. he backs out of the space, a hand on the wheel and the other in yours but the pout on his lips never fade.

you sigh. "okay. fine. i love you too."

he squeezes your hand every few seconds after that, his head turning back and forth, torn between wanting to look at you and having to look at the street.

when the car meets a red light, he steps on the breaks, leaning over the console to kiss your cheek. "what are you reading?"

you quickly show him your phone, laughing when his jaw falls at the headline written on the screen.

BASTARD MUCHEN'S MICHAEL KAISER SEEN AT LOCAL STORE, HOARDING NEWEST COLLECTION OF SANRIO TO HIMSELF.

"the nerve," he grumbles, continuing to glare at the street when you take your phone back. "what's wrong with me collecting? can't people have a hobby these days?"

he stares when you show him your phone again, this time of a comment someone posted on the article.

user mirahua: can't believe i actually simp for this blue painted red flag. can't believe he looks like hello kitty too. i hate hello kitty.

kaiser can only grumble, muttering curse words under his breath as you laugh the rest of the way home.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser imagines #kaiser x reader #kaiser imagines #michael kaiser fluff #michael kaiser x you #michael kaiser x y/n #bllk x female reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x reader #blue lock x female reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock headcanons #kaiser fluff

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tangibletechnomancy · 24 days

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Doing It Wrong On Purpose: Episode 1 - The Un-Ship

Today's experiment: What happens if I prompt for something, and then negative prompt all the main keywords, plus various synonyms and related words?

The answer: Some gloriously weird stuff.

For example, let's look at a negative cat:

Positive prompt: A cat on a windowsill during a storm

Negative prompt: Cat, feline, felidae, kitty, kitten, animal, pet, windowsill, window, glass, pane, house, storm, rain, water, lightning, thunder, clouds, torrent, downpour, snow, blizzard, wind, windy

Interesting! Let's get a little more fantasy with it and try for an anti-deer:

Positive prompt: A deer in a peaceful flowery meadow, crystals, midnight, fantasy, colorful

Negative prompt: Deer, cervidae, animal, elk, moose, stag, doe, fawn, reindeer, antelope, cervid, antlers, flowers, night, dark, trees, foliage, bloom, stars, night, tranquil, fantastic, vibrant, cool, magic, blue, moon, sky, crystal, stone, statue, topiary, floral, blossom

Between these two experiments, including a few dozen other generations that remain unposted, one thing I can say for sure is that for living subjects, it's a great way to get the kind of anatomical wonk that older models are (in)famous for - and it makes sense why, the model is trying to make something that looks like a certain subject...but once it starts to look too much like it, well, shit, we told it NOT to do that! Break something up! Given that I love that kind of wonk, I think I've found a useful tool for myself.

One more living subject, and let's get even more abstract with our direction here:

Positive prompt: mind horse

Negative prompt: horse, equine, colt, filly, mare, stallion, bronco, pony, mind, brain, thought, essence, psyche, intelligence, consciousness, imagination, dream, soul, visualization, intellect, wit, cognizance

Now let's try something that isn't alive. One thing I love AI for is surreal settings and landscapes - lets try one now!

Positive prompt: A magic palace garden made of crystal and gold

Negative prompt: Palace, magic, crystal, gold, fantasy, castle, estate, stronghold, temple, garden, flowers, plants, blossoms, bloom, blooms, trees, grass, stems, foliage, leaves, greenery, branches, bush, bushes, hedge, hedges, metal, luxury, stone, glass, brass, rose, polished, jewel, prism, courtyard

I then tried to see if, learning from the animal subjects, I could make it more likely to return one of my favorite "mistakes" - making it impossible to discern the point where a water area ends and a sky area begins. I wasn't immediately successful, but I came up with some results I found pleasing regardless-

Positive prompt: Secret hideout in a cave behind a waterfall in the foggy forest on a floating sky island in fluffy clouds

Negative prompt: hideout, camp, campsite, home, abode, house, dwelling, rest, shelter, waterfall, water, cave, grotto, forest, woods, woodland, trees, fountain, cascade, pond, stream, lake, river, brook, puddle, creek, pool, beach, ocean, sea, cloud, clouds, sky, cumulus, cirrus, nimbus, fog, storm, rain, sunshower, falls

It seems that with landscapes it's got a much clearer and more specific "idea" of what a [SUBJECT] without [SUBJECT] looks like; it's more inclined to invent very specific, very consistent unasked for related elements. With the animals, I was tweaking the weight on the positive prompt to avoid getting straightforwardly just what I had positive (and negative) prompted, but with landscapes, I just get... almost something else entirely.

So how about inanimate objects? Let's try a ship, perhaps?

Positive prompt: A huge sailing ship with brilliant prismatic crystal sails on a stormy, turbulent sea of sunset clouds

Negative prompt: ship, boat, sailboat, sailing ship, pirate ship, galleon, ketch, schooner, sloop, cutter, sail, sea, ocean, storm, wind, rain, water, waves, cloudy, clouds, fog, sunset, dusk, dawn, sunrise, twilight, evening

...okay, I'm in love with the un-ship. It truly does manage to consistently give me results that look like, yet entirely unlike, a ship. It is everything I love about AI as a medium. More than that, it is my friend.

At lower positive prompt weights, they only get even more beautifully chaotic.

I want to live on one of these (in an alternate universe where they're geometrically possible and structurally sound, that is).

Failing that, I will be featuring them a lot from now on.

All images generated using Simple Stable, under the Code of Ethics of Are We Art Yet?

#ai art #generated art #simple stable #stable diffusion

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wolfiesmoon · 6 months

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Photogenic

Mitsuya x photographer!reader (gn)

My mind was on mitsuya throughout the whole of photography class and i cooked up this idea😖💞

"Agh, no, come back..." you whined at the cat that slipped away just as you were about to take a photo. That photo was going to be award-winning! That stupid cat can't read the room at all!

You sighed, staring at the empty space the cat was in a few moments ago before turning around, still feeling a bit dejected. All your friends and fellow club members managed to get pictures of cats this week, but all of the cats have it out for you, it seems. You can never find a single one.

You started walking away, flipping through the few photos you took that day as you made your way back into the school, suddenly bumping into someone.

"Ah, I'm sorr-" you interrupted your own apology to get a good look at the guy you just bumped into. You recognise him. He's a club leader, you think.

"Oh, it's okay. Don't worry about it." The calm, gentle tone of his voice surprised you. He talks so gently with that appearance? Not that it's a bad thing, of course not.

"...Are you okay? You're staring at me really hard." He gently waved a hand in front of your eyes. You snapped out of it, feeling a little embarrased that you were staring. You didn't even realise it.

"Sorry, you just look really... photogenic, is all. My photographer senses are tingling!" He has an interesting face, that's for sure! In a good way. A very good way.

"Is that so? I never really thought of it like that. I don't take pictures of myself often, you know." He seemed a bit flattered at your unique compliment, smiling slightly at you.

A silence followed, and you suddenly got an idea. "Oh! Do you have some time? Are you busy?" You looked really excited, and he swears he saw stars shine in your eyes at that moment.

"Sure. I'm done with club activities for the day. Why?"

"For a photoshoot, duh! I was supposed to be taking photos of cats, but all of them have it out for me. And I've already established you're a good subject to photograph, too! Come with me!" You beckoned to him excitedly, already walking back outside.

Turns out he isn't half bad as a model, either. You did have a bit of trouble with the posing and your camera decided to be annoying and not save your settings so you had to recalibrate it, but you were eventually ready.

"I'm doing it in three, two, one." You snapped the photo, inspecting it.

"Ahhh... I was right! You look really relaxed and natural." Usually the first photos don't look too good since the (human) subject isn't relaxed or in their element yet. But not with him, apparently.

"Huh." He noted, looking at you with a relaxed smile.

"Let's take more!!" You suggested excitedly. Now you're getting fired up.

His eyes widened slightly when seeing your expression. You look really determined, almost scarily so. Though he supposes that it's good to be passionate about the things you love. He likes that in a person.

"By the way, what's your name? I realise I still haven't asked." You lowered the camera from your face after snapping a dozen photos, smiling at him.

"Mitsuya Takashi. Let's get along." He smiled back.

Oh, that means he wants to talk to you again, doesn't it?

How exciting. You can feel your cheeks getting warm.

In the evening, your club went over all the photos you took as is procedure for the photography club. You usually sort the photos and discuss your intentions with them during this time.

"How about your photo- Who is that?" your friend questioned, clicking through the photos you took earlier. The guy in the photos looked vaguely familiar.

"It's not a cat, that's for sure." The club leader joked.

"Listen, all the cats hate me so I took photos of the next best thing. Mitsuya Takashi." You smiled slightly.

"How is he even remotely similar to a cat?" Your other friend questioned.

"They're both really cute, duh." You playfully rolled your eyes.

#˗ˏˋ ★ ♡ 「Wolfie’s other works」 ♡ ★ ˎˊ˗#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev fluff #mitsuya takashi #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya x you #mitsuya takashi x reader #tokyo revengers mitsuya #mitsuya fluff #mitsuya imagines #mitsuya takashi x you

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godbirdart · 5 months

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Do you have any specific process to get ideas for your backgrounds in your character pinup drawings how do you manage to make them all so awesome and cool

thank you so much! the way I like to tackle these is to think of them as if they're the character's splash art in a gacha game while also taking elements and rules from magazine covers.

now, I use the term "gacha game splash art" kinda loosely here, as that kind of art often depicts contained scenes or flourishes of elemental power. what I mainly focus on is how splash art showcases the character's personality within that contained art piece or scene.

I want everything in the piece I draw to reflect and correlate to the character itself. any accessories, text and elements are always taken into consideration. for this i'll often look closer to the character, their toyhouse page / bio, or sometimes even the client themselves if i'm familiar with them or have worked with them repeatedly before.

for example, archie here is an arcanine. I've utilized this for the background header, where you'll see arcanine's in-game category, pokedex number, type, body shape icon, as well as one of its abilities: flash fire. there's also a fire type icon.

another example is afol's piece. the client had specific ideas in mind for this art - particularly in the emotion and expression the art is meant to portray. I really wanted to incorporate this quote from afol's toyhouse profile as I felt it added to that raw, conflicted emotion the client was after.

as afol is a musician and a sky god, I also wanted to highlight it by adding "GODOFSKY - The Sky God's Solo Suite" as an artist / song title signature that again could tie into that emotional conflict.

the magazine aesthetic is something sort-of new to these pieces, with afol's piece having more of that distinct cover vibe than earlier ones; however I've been taking notes from magazine covers from the start.

I always have to make sure text and accents don't take away from the character, or cover them up or clutter the canvas too much. you'll see this a lot on magazines, how the title is always the largest text with everything else being much smaller or thinner. i follow similar composition rules when drawing. keep the model as the focus, and add things around them as needed to break up negative space and balance out the art. in my portraits, the character's name is always the largest text.

beyond these conscious choices - i dunno! my clients always come to me with fantastic prompts that mesh well with what I vibe with artistically.

i love being handed a few prompts and told to run free with them, and i love when clients come to me looking for a specific aesthetic or emotional piece. i absolutely adore drawin smug and confidently villainous gremlins, but some of my all-time favourite pieces to draw are the ones with a lot of raw emotion in em.

honestly i think a lot of the coolness comes down to my clients just havin cool characters to begin with lmao

#long post #wall of text

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star-anise · 2 years

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You just posted like ten different things about potatoes in the span of maybe five minutes, and I gotta know your take on "The Martian".

Like, the (fictional) man alone on a planet literally only survives because of potatoes shrink-wrapped in plastic for a Thanksgiving meal. If they weren't slated to be on Mars for Thanksgiving, he would have died.

And Andy Weir (author of the original novel) did such a good job with the science of every other element to the story, I honest-to-god believe that potatoes could actually manage to grow in Martian soil (even if that's not been proven for certain afaik).

Which means..... could potatoes terraform Mars into sustaining life??? Are potatoes the key to the universe???

Haha sorry for going so hard on them! Those were mostly all posts from 2020 when gardening and fantasy worldbuilding were lockdown fixations for me. One of them blew up recently so I wanted to give The People more of the content it seemed they were looking for. I don't actually know a lot about potatoes. I just think they're neat.

I do not want to take apart the concept of "colonizing Mars" as some kind of woke gotcha. I want to take your question seriously and charitably. However, I just am the kind of person who's like "Hmm, 'colonize', we should really stop and unpack that word," so let's do that, without forgetting the potato element.

(What "I don't know a lot" means: Potatoes were a crop my family grew several acres of for a few years on our farm before we switched our focus to sheep. I am about 50% as reliable as a horticultural brochure on various potato diseases and growing condition issues. I have listened to two University lectures and read perhaps four historical journal articles beginning-to-end on how the Columbian Exchange affected early-modern Europe, that and half as much again on medieval and early modern European farming practices and population changes, and perhaps three science/history articles specifically on the domestication and proliferation of the potato. I am a white Canadian who actively seeks out information and training in Indigenous history and culture in the Americas, but that's probably still only equal to like, two Native Studies classes in university. I know more than the average person on this topic, but I am also not an expert compared to people who have devoted serious time to learning about this.)

But I have some intuitions in a couple of ways:

The Martian is probably being wildly over-optimistic about its potatoes. They would probably have been irradiated into sterility before being vacuum-packed, and I don't think you can split and propagate them that quickly or successfully. However, potatoes can definitely grow in all kinds of conditions (including under my sink).

They might not be the world's healthiest or happiest potatoes, tho. Soil quality definitely affects the end product. Presumably Watney, being a botanist studying Mars' soil composition, knew how much he had to ameliorate his soil with latrine compost (which would definitely have needed a LOT of processing, since human waste is generally not good for plants, but maybe he used chemicals to speed that up?) to get good soil. However, we would probably need to add a LOT of shit to Mars' soil (and air, and water) for it to host plant life.

Mark Watney makes a joke about having "colonized Mars" because "colony" is Latin for "farm" and he farmed on Mars so haha, funny joke! And we talk about colonies on Mars partly because that's what science fiction did, and a lot of science fiction has been into that colonialism aesthetic. But colonialism and empires actually aren't great, not just because they necessitate huge amounts of racism, oppression, and genocide—I know, you asked me a fun question about potatoes and did not sign up for this, I'm not here to drag you, hear me out—but because they're also really sucky models for agriculture and successful societies generally.

My British ancestors tried to be colonial farmers in a place that is sometimes colder than Mars (Canada's Treaty Six), and let me tell you: IT SUCKED. Most of the crops and herbs and vegetables and flowers that settlers here brought from home and are used to? DON'T FUCKEM GROW. For the Canadian prairies to become conventional farmland, farmers and scientists had to scramble to find, or produce, cold-hardy varieties of everything from wheat to roses. A lot of flowers and plants that are unkillable invasive zombie perennials in other climates don't survive our winters no matter hard we try. The trees and flowers that hold cultural or sentimental attachments for us often don't grow here. The climate is so harsh and population is spread so thin that we cannot do the 100 mile diet and eat foods we're familiar with, and can hardly even manage the 1000 mile diet. (Not that I try, but, my family did once look into it)

A huge number of colonial homesteads, where the pioneers go out on their little covered wagon and build little houses on the prairie? Failed miserably and got bought up by land speculators. My own family came out to Alberta in the 1880s and moved around from land assignment to land assignment, like, six times before settling at their current place in the early 1900s.

Meanwhile: POTATOES

Potatoes are less than ten thousand years old! I am not any kind of expert on archaeology, please nobody throw things, but humans showed up in the Andes (think: high, cold mountains) of South America roughly 9,000 years ago. There are hundreds of wild potato varieties, but they generally produce fairly tiny tubers. It took active work of Indigenous Andean people around 8,000 years ago around Lake Titicaca to cultivate specific strains of potato, doing oldschool genetic modification to make them bigger, more delicious, and hardier. From that cultivation effort around a single species of wild potatoes, they produced thousands of cultivated potato varieties.

Ancient Andean farmers and botanists also played a big part in cultivating quinoa from wild amaranth, as well as producing modern food crops you probably haven't heard of, like oca, olluco, mashua, and yacon, and also coca, which may get a bad rap because it's what cocaine and coca-cola are made from but you cannot deny it's got kick.

Basically, Indigenous people of the Americas (South, Central, and North) went all in on botany and plant cultivation. Plants that we take for granted now have mostly been developed by Indigenous people in the past few thousand years: Tobacco, sunflowers, marigolds, tomatoes, pumpkins, rubber, vanilla, cocoa, sweetcorn, maize, and most kinds of pepper except peppercorn. These things were not found; they were made, by careful cultivation of the world as it was.

This gives us a vision of the future. Colonization, and industrial agriculture, both lean us towards the vision of a totally uniform end product, with the same potato varieties grown on each farm because we have made every farm the same. Instead we could embrace biodiversity and focus on privileging local knowledge and considering the interactions of environment, plants, microbiota, and people. We could create potatoes that were happy on Mars. We could create Mars that is happy to have us. We could create a society that can accept what Mars has to offer.

A lot of why we dream about colonizing Mars is the idea that the Earth itself is dying, that we are killing it, and we need to abandon this farmstead and seek out a new frontier. I acknowledge that shit is bad, but I don't agree with that framing. I am increasingly persuaded that there is a third path between ecological destruction and mass exodus, and I think we need to reject European colonial mentality that creates the forced choice. I find far more use in privileging the knowledge of people who live on and with land than their landlords and rulers, and I especially find value in Indigenous knowledge of land management practices and food production.

I am absolutely not saying that Indigenous people were or are wonderful magical ~spiritual beings~ who frolicked in an Edenic paradise that only knew death and disease once white people showed up. This isn't noble savage bullshit, nor am I invoking people who existed once but whom I have never met. I am saying that I have Indigenous neighbours, colleagues, relatives, and elected representatives. I have learned about mental health, leatherworking, botany, and ecology from Metis and First Nations elders and knowledge-keepers. And like. They have good and useful shit to say.

This is about culture, not race. It is not that their biological DNA means that they know more than me about how to get food from this landscape. It's about cultural history and what we learn from our heritages. What have our cultures privileged? Like, Europe has historically been super into things like metallurgy, domesticating livestock, and creating dairy products. If I want to smelt iron or choose animals to make cheese from, European society would have a lot of useful information for me! And what Indigenous cultures in the Americas have historically focused on instead of cows and copper* include 1) getting REAL familiar with your local flora and figuring out how to make sure you have lots of the herbs and grains and roots and berries you need, and 2) how to make a human society where people can live and have good lives, but do not damage the environment enough to impair the ability of future generations to have the same sort of life.

*Several indigenous American cultures did practice various forms of metallurgy. It's just one of those proportional things, about what societies really go for

Conclusion

I think we could use the processes that formed the potato to find and foster forms of life that could survive on Mars. It would involve learning to think that botany is a sexy science, and understanding just how rich and complicated the environment is. To oxygenate the atmosphere, we'd have to get super enthusiastic about algae and lichen and wetlands. We would have to learn to care deeply about the microorganisms living in the soil, and whether the potatoes are happy.

We'd have to create an economy that counts oxygen and carbon dioxide production on its balance sheets. To learn how to wait for forests to grow back after a fire, instead of giving up in despair because the seedlings aren't trees yet. To do the work now and be hopeful even though we might not see the payoffs for decades, or our victories might only be witnessed by future generations.

So yes, I think we could totally plant potatoes on Mars

But I also think that if we ever got there, we'd have turned into the kind of people who could also save Earth in the first place.

Which makes it a good enough goal in my opinion.

#staranise original #agriculture #potatoes my beloved

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comfys · 6 months

Text

Southern Coastal - Part 1: Exterior Hey everyone! This build which has been my baby for the past three and a half weeks is finally finished! I've been posting tons of screenshots of the interior, and now i'm so excited to share it fully. This is a Coastal style house with Southern influences, heavily modeled after this real life home in North Carolina. As we all know, Brindleton Bay is modeled after New England, so I wanted to build something in a style that fits there, but with a twist, hence the Southern element. The back veranda of this house is especially southern looking and reminiscent of a house you would see in Louisiana, with the columns and hanging plants and all. I somehow managed to fit a pool, tennis court, pool house, and detached garage all on a 40x40 lot. There are so many lovely little details of this house that you'll discover in my upcoming posts. Keep a look out for more. You can find this lot on the gallery by searching my EA id 'comfysims4' or by searching 'Southern Coastal'. Please remember to search including custom content. This build is not intended for cc-shy simmers. I only recommend using it if you are already familiar with much of the cc used or just want the shell. I am not currently making cc lists or tray files, but you can check out my frequently used creators post and message me for WCIFS.

#showusyourbuilds #simblr #sims 4 #ts4 #the sims 4 #ts4cc #s4 cc #simblog #sims4 #ts4 cc #ts4 custom content #my build

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lovelyhan · 10 months

Text

— caught in the middle (a teaser) ⟢

mingyu knows. he's perfectly aware that his best friend's girlfriend is the last person he should end up wanting. but who is he to refuse when wonwoo invites him to join something he never thought he could ever be part of?

★ FEATURING; wonwoo x reader x mingyu

★ WORD COUNT; 1.3k words

★ TAGS; established relationship, streamer au, one-sided pining, fluff, smut (in future scenes; this teaser is completely sfw)

★ WARNINGS; brief mentions of twitter porn

★ NOTES; streamer wonwoo is back and he now comes in a set with his equally hot streamer best friend :] i'd recommend reading underlying pretense and favorite poison first for added context, but you can totally read this teaser (and future story) as a standalone :^)

★ DISCLAIMER; some elements in this teaser are not final and might change in the actual fic.

This is, by far, the worst day of Mingyu’s life.

Okay, maybe he’s exaggerating, but he likes to think that he’s a man of routine. If he doesn’t get to do his morning rituals right before his streams, it feels like the world has been tilted a few degrees off its proper axis.

And that’s exactly what’s happening now, when Mingyu realizes that his favorite Twitter porn account is nowhere to be found.

How the hell is he supposed to get his daily dose of relief now?

“Mingyu, you’re dragging your ass a lot today,” Seungcheol’s voice sounds pissed through his headphones and Mingyu can’t exactly fault him for it. Not when he ended up making their team lose their third Valorant match in a row. “The hell’s up with you? I thought you already practiced using Gekko with Vernon the other day.”

“We did and he was actually pretty good,” the younger man comments. “Dunno what suddenly got into him today though.”

“Cheol-hyung, you shouldn’t berate Mingyu when you royally sucked at using Neon during the time she was first released,” Wonwoo quips.

Seungcheol immediately makes a disgruntled noise at that. “I did not royally suck! She just doesn’t fit my playstyle. And I get that you guys are glued to the hip at this point, but you of all people should know when to call out your teammates especially if they’re being a bunch of noobs, Wonwoo.”

“Now, now, didn’t we already talk about this? No fighting when we’re only doing a bunch of scrimmages between friends.”

A less abrasive voice flits into the call and Mingyu finds himself relaxing into his seat as he stares at the glowing red DEFEAT screen on his monitor. Ever since you and Wonwoo finally dropped the act of hating each other and started dating, you’ve constantly mediated any petty arguments that sparked within their group. Mingyu is all sorts of grateful, but is just a tad bit embarrassed whenever he’s part of the argument in question.

“Yeah, what she said,” Wonwoo agrees with a huff.

“Whatever, man. Koyahngi has watered down your temper so much, it makes me look like the most easily tilted player on the team,” Seungcheol grumbles before adding, “Ugh. Couples.”

Vernon laughs softly. “Crazy how you’re the one who always insisted for Wonwoo-hyung to be kinder, but now that he is, you suddenly want him to go back to his trash-talking ways.”

“Now why’s everyone dogpiling me now!” the older man whines.

About half an hour and another lost match later, everyone decides to call it a day. Seungcheol and Vernon are going to hold a joint stream together and Mingyu needs to get ready for another modeling gig he managed to land a couple of days ago. He’s not sure what you and Wonwoo had in store for the day, but his best friend and roommate mentioned that you were going to drop by their apartment sometime today.

But when Mingyu finally deigned to grab a towel and head to the bathroom, he instead makes a detour to the couch with a desolate sigh. He unlocks his phone and opens the Twitter app like it was second nature, tapping on the button that pulls up his most recent searches.

goodcat_badcat

He absentmindedly types the username to an account that’s been his constant companion whenever he needed to let off some steam. Though he hasn’t checked her profile in a while, Mingyu was under the impression that goodcat_badcat would still be there to give him a hand especially when his schedule has been driving him insane these days.

But when the app redirects him to the main profile, the same words that greeted him when he woke up with his painfully hard morning wood stare back at him. Something went wrong. Try again.

She deactivated. His favorite Twitter porn girl is fucking gone and now he’s got nothing but despair and the bluest balls in the entire city.

“Hey.”

Mingyu jolts at the sound of Wonwoo’s voice, immediately locking his phone before tossing it on the other side of the couch as if it burned him. He’s quick to whirl around to greet him with a too-wide smile.

“Hyung, what’s up?” Mingyu asks, thanking the heavens that his voice didn’t crack.

His best friend looks at him weirdly. “Uh, do you have any plans today? We’re going out to go bowling today and she told me to ask if you wanted to come along.”

Bowling. Wonwoo sucks at bowling, but you managed to rope him into going with you anyways. If that’s not true love, Mingyu doesn’t know what is.

“I’d love to, but I’ve got a shoot in…” Mingyu’s voice falters before reaching for the phone he just tossed away—heart dropping to his stomach when he looks at the time. “Shit. Thirty minutes.”

He doesn’t wait for Wonwoo’s response before bounding towards the bathroom with a towel in hand.

The part-time model hasn’t gotten ready faster in his entire life. Though his manager told him that the brand he’s shooting for this time isn’t strict with time, Mingyu doesn’t want to make it a habit to show up late for his commitments.

Streamers already have a bad enough image to those who aren’t part of the industry, and he wants to make it a point that not every single one of them is a slob who doesn’t shower and makes tardiness a way of life.

As he pulls on a snapback over his still-damp hair—opting to let the stylists on the set handle it for him instead—he faintly hears your voice outside of his bedroom door.

“Aww, he isn’t coming?”

“Yeah. Let’s just invite him next time,” Wonwoo’s muffled response manages to reach his ears as well.

With one last glance in the mirror, Mingyu hoists his bag across his shoulder before opening the door to his room. He spots you seated on the armrest of their couch, kicking your legs somewhat adorably before you meet his gaze with surprise.

For someone who’s supposed to be bowling today, you don’t really look the part. Of course, your signature Koyahngi cat ear headband is sitting on top of your head, as in-theme as always. You also paired up your short, pleated skirt with lace-trimmed thigh highs and chunky white boots. Not to mention the sheer, low cut top that gives him an ample view of your cleavage…

“Gyu, do you have a photoshoot today or something?” Your question promptly snaps him out of his somewhat rude staring. “Here I thought we could team up and destroy Wonwoo together in the bowling alley.”

“As if I’d allow that,” his best friend scoffs. “Mingyu’s teaming up with me, princess. Then you’ll be crying in the bowling alley while we get ourselves a victory treat from the snackbar.”

“We are not going to do that, and yeah, I have a photoshoot…that I’m already late for actually,” Mingyu replies with a bubble of laughter. “That’s okay. You and Wonwoo-hyung have fun. Pro-tip, he actually sucks at bowling, so you’ll score much better than he will.”

You giggle before getting back on your feet, making your way over to Mingyu faster than he can prepare himself for. He hasn’t quite noticed it as vividly as he does now, but you’re so much smaller than him—even with the added inches of your boots.

It doesn’t help that the way you’re cutely looking up at Mingyu with those pretty doe eyes as you examine his outfit is making sweat bead across his temples. Great.

“Doesn’t seem like you’re heading to a shoot though,” you laugh. “You’re going on a date, aren’t you? Who’s the lucky guy or gal? Why’d you dress up like Tadashi Hamada just to impress them?”

Wonwoo snorts. “You mean the guy who died in Big Hero 6?”

“Well, yeah, but he was also my childhood crush, so shut up, Wonwoo.”

Your childhood crush. He looks like your childhood crush.

As Mingyu watches you bicker with his roommate—your boyfriend and his best friend—he realizes something that could change the trajectory of this friendship forever.

He might have a crush on someone he isn’t supposed to want.

⟢ end notes: hope you enjoyed the teaser so far! do leave a reply if you want to be tagged once the fic is up (hint: i'll be dropping it on wonwoo's birthday hehe)

#svthub #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #wonwoo smut #mingyu smut #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo x reader #mingyu x reader #lovelyhan #q: i always need queue 🐇

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vaguely-concerned · 2 years

Text

I have seen people question whether dios apate minor really needed to happen the way it did. it's the 'this could have been an email' of htn. 'augustine this did not have to be a threesome', I hear people saying. and boy do I have an obnoxious amount of things to say to protest this perfectly sensible assertion so here we go haha

1) yes it absolutely had to be like that. It says so on this piece of paper *hands you a piece of paper that says "because I said so and also it's narratively and thematically Sexy"* in my half-legible handwriting. seeing tamsyn muir describe harrow the ninth as a book about being a kid and realizing your parents probably had sex has given me such validation, I am unstoppable now. (to be serious for a moment, harrow the ninth is essentially a bildungsroman, and the threesome scene does a whole lot of thematic heavy lifting around harrow glimpsing elements of adulthood, relationships, and sexuality she clearly finds at the same time repulsive, bewildering and fascinating, and around opening her and especially our eyes to how much john is just a man with human longings still, under the god stuff. dios apate is crucial plot- and character-wise too -- it's a loadbearing threesome in terms of delivering the clues you need to piece together the mystery plot of the book, which is simply delightful -- but even more so thematically. and then the scene at the end where they confront john gives gideon some of that same opportunity to peek into adulthood and go '...well shit I guess', as a sort of mirror, just without the french kissing that time and more murder. the things magnus and abigail model for the girls about love and adulthood? mercy and augustine are providing the opposite-day batshit insane version of that fhdskjfa, you know, for contrast and spice)

2) listen... it gets lonely out there in deep space with your 'legendary unamorous' brother, two infant pathetic baby kitten sisters who you'll probably have to kill one day when you take another stab at god if they don't manage to get themselves killed along the way on their own, and the two people you've spent the last ten thousand years having separate yet connected married & divorced arcs with and also btw one of them is god... honestly a threesome over the dinner table is probably The most well-adjusted reaction one might hope for under those circumstances

3) on a characterization level I think Augustine is actually doing something incredibly deliberate with it: he's presenting John with yet another chance to admit what he did. which is notable especially since the deal he and mercy agree on as a condition for the threesome to happen at all seems to be that they're going to give the ol' godslaying another game try sooner rather than later. (I get the sense that it's not so much that he disagrees with her ultimate goal so much as that he thinks she's being dangerously indiscreet and hasty going about it, before. “though I think it will be the death of us,” huh.)

notice how he's structuring the whole thing: he's invoking the intimacy and love in their strange little threeway relationship and how long it's been by truly playing along with john's 'we're a happy family really when we're at home! :)' delusion (helped along by lowered inhibitions via enormous amounts of alcohol and what I've previously described as a joint mercy/augustine leyendecker themed thirst trap. ah, a classic). he brings up alecto and what happened to her -- or rather, he is clever enough to make john bring up alecto and how she is totally dead, right?? by seeming to make a careless statement that leads there and then acting contrite about it after. he (helped along by mercy, who I think realizes exactly what he's doing -- this is very much a two-man con) brings up how much they all loved their cavaliers, and wow funny how that's been haunting us for ten thousand years now huh :) wow, a lot of our other lyctor friends slash family sure are super dead in the name of some unknowable greater reason neither of us quite grasp and that you won't fucking tell us, aren't they. these are all the main grievances he and mercy confront john about at the end of the book, but put forth much more subtly and not phrased as an accusation -- he's baring his and mercy's vulnerabilities as bait, essentially. if john had, say, a conscience where his conscience should be instead of a black hole, it probably should have stirred something in him.

(also let me just say... the way augustine just takes a pneumatic drill to the TWO tender spots g1deon seems to have and then has the audacity to be like 'oh dear. did that upset him. ooof my bad *loooong dead-eyed slurp of his wine*' is just sooo... he's such a bitch!!! he's the only person who could ever have held their own in a ten-thousand-year bitch-off with mercy and I love him so much. well even if it wasn't all to get g1deon into murder range for harrow I think he wouldn't enjoy sticking around for the 'getting our tongues on god' part of the evening so maybe it's a kindness, really, and totally not pent-up aggression from the last twenty years or so breaking through)

he is all but shaking john by the lapels begging him to just... come clean about it already, to stop thinking he's still kidding everyone else along with himself. it's clear throughout the book that augustine knows exactly what john is at this point -- and all of the most cynical things he does say about it turn out to be distressingly right. john is always less sentimental than you'd think. john wouldn't forgive mercy, he will abandon in a heartbeat anything that isn’t necessary to him anymore, whether emotionally or in some other way. and still he seems to hold out some desperate absurd hope that the man he wants, the man he thought was there, is in there, somewhere deep deep down, if he just gives him the chance to show himself.

(mercy definitely has her own side of this whole thing, I'm just focusing more on augustine because this evening was like. his idea in the first place and I feel like we can Read Some Things into that fact lol. now that we have both ntn and htn to go from I sort of have this sense that the things augustine wants from john are more... personal? more interpersonal? they both love him equally, but mercy's love seems tinged slightly more towards the religious (augustine accuses her of knowing 'only worship without adoration', which like... also the eight house's entire Vibe lol) -- mercy at the end of that book is totally a person breaking up with GOD, not just with john -- while augustine's vibe is more like a man in the last not-with-a-bang-but-a-whimper days of a marriage that sort of felt like it could have been something real and good once but all your illusions about it have since been taken from you and trampled underfoot into the mud and you've had the divorce papers signed and ready in a drawer for over a year now, hell, as it turns out, is other people etc. lmao)

having a threesome over the dinner table with god is one thing, having a threesome over the dinner table centered on the one man and god who has yet again let you down in a way so fundamental it can barely fit into words and who you both still love in a way anyway, miserably, and also just reaffirmed your joint resolution to murder (all under the pretense that it gives your baby sisters the chance to murder your brother of ten thousand years yeah that's why this is happening no other underlying aching emotional motivations here haha)... listen mercy and augustine are simply on a different level, theologically. they've added horny shrimp colours to the religious spectrum. who else does it like them

#the locked tomb #harrow the ninth #augustine the first #mercymorn the first #john gaius #dios apate minor #bad cop worse cop and sorry cop #augustine 'when I die I want john to lower my casket #not so he can let me down one last time that's honestly a given at this point #if at all possible I just want to pull him down into the grave with me' quinque #first saint to serve the king undying #nona the ninth spoilers #nominally? in that I am saying there's relevant information to this polycule clusterfuck in it? eh let's just be safe lol #just when you thought I had no more thoughts about the terrible old people to unleash upon you... here I am again hahaha #the locked tomb meta #also yeah I mean I guess they didn't actually have to get their tongues on god on-page for all this to still be true #but I'm glad they did let them have some lyctor enrichment #hate fucking is actually lyctor love language hashtag did u kno

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thissying · 7 months

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Christian Horner about Max in Formule1 magazine, October 2023 issue You've worked with several top drivers. How does Verstappen compare to the 'greats' in your opinion? As a team we've had a great and successful period with Sebastian, an exceptionally good driver. Of course there have been more extraordinary drivers. Since I saw guys like Ayrton Senna when I was a little boy, I haven't seen anyone like Max. Michael Schumacher did similar things at the time, but what Max is showing is truly phenomenal. Did you recognise his talent from day one, like adviser Helmut Marko? Max continues to amaze us. He's only 25 years old, but by now a veteran. He uses that experience, it gives him an advantage. He uses his head more, but he's still got that pure speed and skills that he had when he came here as a 16 year old boy. He's merged all those elements in a brilliant way. Besides that he's just a nice guy and fantastic to work with. Fame and fortune hasn't changed him at all: he's the same Max Verstappen. He's just a more adult version of himself.

A leader within Red Bull Racing. Absolutely. Everyone looks at him, he's the leader in the garage, in the team. Because of how he drives, because of the results he gets. Everyone walks just a bit faster for him, goes just a bit farther. Because everyone knows there's usually a reward in the end. In that way, he's a great motivation for everyone. No, verbally he's not loud or exaggeratedly present in the garage. I mean: he's not giving a speech every five minutes or something. But when he says something, people listen. Max is just one of the guys, everyone appreciates that he isn't a diva. The British and the Dutch share a good sense of humour; there's a lot of laughter in the garage. Because you have to enjoy your work. And Max does, he fits perfectly in the team. Does that make working with him easier?Max is one of the most straightforward drivers I've worked with. No bullshit, or anything. You know where you stand with him. He's a professional, comes in and does his job. He gives a hundred percent and expects the same from others. […] What specific things does you appreciate in Max Verstappen as a person? With his family and Raymond (Vermeulen, his manager) he's got a close-knit group of people around him. And the team as well, I think. I think he feels safe and at ease in that environment. He's the same boy he was when he joined us. Whether it's at our home for a barbecue or at Silverstone: he always enjoys playing with the kids. Max is genuinely a really nice guy for whom family is the most important thing, too. Demanding, difficult to work with? Totally not, Max is actually very predictable. You know exactly what you've get with him. Max doesn't do politics, just does what he says. And he expects the same from the people he works with. He's direct and clear, that's how he was raised. He's always on time. I've worked with drivers who kept to their own time-table… Not Max, he knows why he's here and he always delivers craftsmanship. Do you often have discussions with him? To be honest, no. And if there is a point of discussion we talk openly about it. I don't believe in the conflict model. If there's something you need to get off your chest or have an issue, you sit down together, talk about it and try to resolve it. Is your relationship with Verstappen different from his with Marko? Helmut is a bit like Max's grandfather, the older wiser man. Their relationship is bit more personal, I'd say. They get on well, are both straightforward. Max is just less traditional in his thinking. Helmut is Red Bull's adviser, responsible for the talent program and obviously very proud of Max's achievements. My relationship with him is a bit more operational in nature: how the whole team functions, how Max functions with in the team.

#idk you guys. i think he likes him #🥰#f1 #christian horner #max verstappen #a 'read more' yes or no? idk

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months

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I've been dreaming of the Unrivaled Beauty.

O’ Beautiful Queen, your loveliness is eternal and unchallenged.

Steal center stage, and the hearts of those who gaze upon you.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

War is as much of an art as it is a brazen display of brutality.

For Vil, every performance he gives is war. His weapons: skill, grace, beauty. All of it meant to charm the audience. No substitutions, it no stunt doubles.

Today is no different.

He kneels in the snow atop a corpse. Not a real dead man, but a dummy with an eerie amount of detail. It had been prepared by experts in the prop department, made to resemble his character's sworn enemy in the film.

Crimson blooms upon white robes marked with ancient runes. The collar and neckline are daring, plunging to reveal a generous amount of the bare skin of the chest to the elements. The hair, a tangled mess of glossy raven waves, sticking from the moisture to cold skin. The skin, pale blue with frost, the eyes cloudy orbs.

The mouth, stained red with the blood of countless innocents, no longer moves.

In this scene, the she-devil Snow White is dead, and he, heir to the Witch Queen, has slain her.

Without hesitation, he plunges his bare hand into the dummy’s chest, fishing out a model heart. It is covered in a mixture of corn syrup, food coloring, cocoa powder, and starch to simulate bodily fluids. The thickened liquid dribbles down his own pale hands, staining them.

Lifting his trophy into the air, a joyous, defiant sparkle in his eyes. A throaty cry erupts from him.

“With this, the Eternal Snow will be no more, and peace shall return to my realm!!”

Vil’s explosive laughter fills the mountain. The snow shakes, the land itself shudders in his presence.

He has won.

Finally, finally, finally.

A gruff man’s voice reaches him.

“CUT!!”

In an instant, the scene falls apart and reality sets in.

Cameramen tend to their equipment, prop managers and stylists exchange whispers. Special effects mages tamp down their snow spells. The illusion is stripped away, revealing a balmy day set against a backdrop of mountains.

Staff in scurry in, offering Vil towelettes and lotion to clean and moisturize his hands. He accepts them, then waves the staff off, one ferrying the fake heart.

“Bravo, Vil-kun, bravo!!” the director gushes. “I knew it was the right call to cast you as the hero for this film. There wasn’t a flaw in your acting, m’boy!!”

“Thank you, sir.” Vil bows to the older man, keeping his reply short and simple. “It is an honor to be a part of your masterfully written story."

It is the tale of a beautiful demon locked away in a glass coffin, freed from slumber and set upon the world to shroud it in never-ending winter… The tale of a selfless noble and her huntsmen that stands in opposition to her and her seven sniveling imp minions. A tale of two fates intertwining—the noble whose bloodline sealed the demon away, and the demon who vowed revenge on descendent of the Witch Queen.

Vil's eyes cannot stop themselves from sliding over to his co-star, who waits in the wings. His lifelong rival, Neige LeBlanche.

He is dressed similarly to the dummy that had been swapped in for his corpse. Red ruins his pristine white gown, and his hair is wild—but off-camera, Neige lacks the madness of the villain he plays. Neige smiles sweetly at the staff, giggles like an innocent schoolboy.

Vil fails to look away before Neige meets his eyes. He waves shyly, and, out of courtesy, Vil returns it.

“You've all been working very hard to bring my vision to life," the director happily booms. "Let's take a 30-minute break. Hydrate, grab some food, whatever. Actors, hair and makeup retouches before stepping back on set!"

There is a collective murmur of approval, feet shuffling for the refreshments table. A staff member offers Vil a spot in the donut line, but he politely declines.

"No thank you, I've prepared granola and a light fruit yogurt ahead of time. If you'll excuse me."

He peels away and heads for his trailer. Once Vil is shut away—a well-trained peacock stepping into his gilded cage—he produces his phone and reviews his jam-packed schedule: the film shoot, an interview with a popular variety show, modeling for a magazine cover, practicing for a stage play…

He, cast in the spotlight of hero in every single one.

You are the fairest of them all, Mira would robotically recite. All the social media websites and news outlets were talking nonstop about him, and he knows it.

It's the Age of Vil, his manager would joke. Isn't this great? You're demonstrating your range. This will definitely net you bigger and bigger opportunities in the future!

They’re finally recognizing you for your cuteness and goodness, his father would tell him. That’s my son! I knew everyone would come around eventually.

On any other day, he might have scoffed or dismissed their comments. Today, he simply smirks, silently pocketing his phone.

Vil passes a large vanity on his way to the mini-fridge. A glimpse of his reflection reveals the elaborate jewel-toned ensemble he is fitted for, the makeup that highlights the highest points of his face. Shining, commanding attention—just as any protagonist would.

He stands straighter, holds his chest higher. Proudly flaunting his feathers, his numerous accomplishments.

I've worked myself to the bone to reach this point. I've earned every little bit of this.

Retrieving his snacks, Vil makes to join the crew on their break. Even if Neige will be present as well, he grimaces.

A shadow invades his periphery.

Vil pauses at the doorway and looks back.

There, sitting on his vanity, was a bushel of roses the color of midnight. A black envelope embellished with gold accents is tucked among the petals.

His brows knit together. How odd--he is certain he hadn't seen that a second ago, nor had he heard anyone entering to drop it off while he was briefly at the fridge. How could he have missed such an obvious gift?

"Perhaps it's from the director or producer," he muses, plucking the envelope free and opening it.

Inside, there is, as suspected, a letter.

Same black paper, same gold embellishments.

To Schoenheit,

Please accept this humble offering from myself. It was a joy to watch you perform to your heart's content.

I was very moved by the experience. It is not often that I get to observe Man in all of its peaks and crests in such a short span of time.

I will continue to watch over you and support your dreams from the sidelines.

Sincerely,

M. D.

Initials in the place of a name? Vil turns the paper over, expecting more on the other side. It's unlike his fans to leave out their full identity. (Half of the time, they include a list of their social media handles and beg for a follow back.)

But alas, the back is blank and yields no answers.

He frowns, facing the words scrawled on the front of the square again. The cogs in his head turn, arriving at a single logical conclusion.

I only know of one possible M.D., but... Is he truly the type to send notes of this nature?

Vil toys with the idea in his head, just as he toys with the letter between his fingers. Ego rises and colors his lenses.

"Fufufu, it seems that even great mages such as he are not immune to my beauty and talent." Vil chuckles, exiting the trailer. His adoring fans await.

He's right about everything, and he doesn't realize how wrong he wants to be.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Vil Schoenheit #Neige LeBlanche #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst countdown #twisted wonderland countdown #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #I've been dreaming...#book 5 spoilers #twst anni #twisted wonderland anni #twst anniversary #twisted wonderland anniversary

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