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#I crave seeing other people’s talent
leviiackrman · 9 months
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All I want… is to commission other amazing artists… to draw my babies…
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pissfizz · 1 year
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#it’s just so fucking frustrating. i have 681 followers on Instagram. over 80% of those are inactive accounts. the rest I would say is -#-roughly 15% friends and family. and the other 5% is people who actually followed me cuz they liked my art#and I get about 20-30 likes a post. almost all of that is friends and family yet again. with a few stragglers that aren’t. and then of -#-course there’s bots in there too#and the reason I don’t clear out these accounts is cuz I know that once I do I’ll see how many people are left that actually do care. and -#-it’ll make me feel even more like shit than I do now when I see that#but oh ho ho this little 14 year old with toxic twitter brains is out here with a 5k plus following and their future basically guaranteed -#-in the art field#and a huge percentage of the time they’re like. fine! they’re not even good just FINE. like I am OBJECTIVELY better than them in many cases-#-and yet!!#but that’s not mentioning when these literal middle schoolers are actually amazing talented gifted artists#like I don’t understand. when I was your age my art was ass. it still is compared to how you’re drawing#i draw literally all the fucking time I’m constantly practicing and trying to test my limits but it never makes me any better#do I not fucking practice enough. am I supposed to draw until I get a goddamn carpal tunnel so I can even compare to this asshole kid on -#-twitter or instagram?? i dont fucking understand and I’m so over it#every time this happens I want to slam my head into a wall until I get brain damage and fall into a coma and never wake up#i want to fucking smash my head with a rock and my brains splattering the pavement will be my final awful art piece for this world to see#this is the only thing I have and yet I can never get the validation I crave and need and I’m not even good at it anyway so I probably dont-#-even deserve it in the first place#I’m so over this shit#vent
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pandoraslxna · 1 year
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Alright but what if your an artist of the clan! But you have like a secret stash of naughty drawings and one of the guys (can be anyone honestly) found it and was either like these are good or they’re like ohh so would you be down to try this position? AHHH ITS 5AM AND I NEED TO SEE THIS IDEA OUT
Work of art
adult Neteyam x female omatikaya reader
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Words: 2.5k
Warnings: explicit smut, minors dni, thigh riding, praise kink, p in v, creampie
Notes: you guys are literally so creative omg thanks for this request I loved that idea!! Also I hope it’s fine that I’ve picked Neteyam for this? ☺️
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The omatikaya had many forms of art. Your clan had good singers, skillful weavers and wonderful dancers. And you were an artist, a painter. One of the rarest forms of art that the omatikaya practiced. The human scientists had introduced you to something they called pen and paper a few years ago and you couldn’t stop drawing ever since. Your favorite thing to draw were people, may it be humans or Na‘vi. You practiced drawing the human anatomy as often as possible, occasionally you even stole some of Norms biology books to do so.
But your favorite art reference when it came to drawing your own people, was Neteyam. The olo’eyktan’s oldest son and one of your closest friends. And the greatest work of art you knew. You had this little, secret crush on him, but in order not to put your friendship at risk, you never acted upon it. All you had were your little daydreams and fantasies and the drawings you made of him– they were obviously only meant to help you get better at anatomy and nothing else!
Neteyam often spent time with you when you were drawing. Most of the time, he was just laying beside you, taking a quick nap between his chores and duties. Sometimes he would just silently watch you, mesmerized by your talent. On other days, you could barely focus on drawing because the both of you were just too lost in a deep conversation about whatever topic you landed on today.
Today was no different.
"Tey, could you hand me another piece of paper please?" Not even glancing up from your current drawing, you point to the shoulder bag that was laying against a tree.
"Sure", Neteyam smiles, placing your legs, that were lazily swung over his own, to the ground before he raises to his feet and walks over to where you had pointed. Your bag was, as usual, full of non-essential stuff that made it hard to find literally anything in it. Neteyam rolls his eyes as he skips through several books, that you had once again only "borrowed" from the humans (without them knowing, of course), a few colored pencils and a handful of notebooks in various sizes. He glances over his shoulder to get a glimpse of the paper size that you would probably need and grabs the first notebook that was similar in size. It had a small heart craved into the front of its leather cover and given that he had never seen this one before, he only guessed that it must be a new one.
Knowing that most most of your notebooks were already full, he flips it open and searches for a blank page. Of course this one was filled to the brim with drawings, but these were… different kind of drawings, compared to the ones you usually made. Neteyam raises a brow as he examines them carefully, one in particular, before he turns back to you.
"Thats an… odd position. Did you learn that from the humans?" Neteyam flips the notebook for you to see and immediately, all color drains from your face.
The drawing he was showing you was one of your favorites and it was more than just obvious, that what you drew on those pages was supposed to be you and him….
"N-Neteyam!", you squeak and immediately stumble to your feet, "You weren’t supposed to see that, oh great mother—" You attempt to pry the notebook from his hands, but Neteyam only chuckles. He’s holding it over his head, too far for you to reach even as you stand on your very tip toes.
"It’s uhm, I uh– I just used it for anatomy practice, you know, it’s easier if you have a reference and you, uhm, you just happen to be there all the time so it was easier for me to draw you and, and—"
Neteyam grins as you struggle to explain yourself, all flustered and face bright red while he still holds the drawing out of your reach. He secretly enjoys the feeling of your soft hands clawing to his arms and how you unintentionally press yourself against him, because you try with all your might to get that damn book back.
"So you’re not up to try it?", he tilts his head, catching you off guard and you freeze.
"E-Excuse me?" You blink at him, internally questioning if you had heard him right. Finally, he lowers his arm, but all intentions to get your notebook back had left your mind completely.
"I said…", Neteyam bends forward, until his face is just inches from yours, "do you want to try that with me?"
You swallow thickly, your eyes narrowing as if trying to read him, to see if he was just joking. There was a smile spreading on his lips, almost innocently, as if he didn’t just suggest something so filthy that it made your belly tingle.
"I figured it could help you with your art, you know, if you didn’t have to use your imagination anymore", he explains nonchalant. You had to swallow down the next stupid thing that crossed your mind, ready to be spoken out, which was something along the lines of 'please fuck my brains out right now.' But instead, all that really came out was some sort of whimper, an almost pathetic and painfully embarrassing sound that even you weren’t sure how to describe.
Instead of answering him, you just sort of stood there. Staring up at him with wide eyes. Hands clenching into weak fists on your sides, because you really wanted to move them, touch him, respond in any way that didn’t embarrass you further because yes, you absolutely wanted to do that— but you just didn't have the brain capacity to tell him. Neteyam must have caught on on that, because you saw the little curl of a smirk pull at the corner of his lip and then he chuckled, "You’re so adorable."
For a moment, you think that he was actually just joking. That he had successfully managed to make a fool out of you, but then his hand finds the back of your head and he pulls you into a kiss. His tongue shot out immediately, loving the way you opened up for him and you let your eyes flutter closed.
"Okay, let’s see…", Neteyam murmurs once he breaks the kiss and then he sets the book down for both of you to see. For a moment, he pretends to study your drawing, pretends to think about what the first step to lead to this might be as if it wasn’t so obvious already and it makes you squirm in embarrassment. "I think we need to get you all nice and wet first", his voice is low and hot in your ear. You can’t help the very audible gulp that comes out of you when your eyes met his again, dark with want and mischief, almost as if he'd been planning to do this.
Neteyam leans over to dispense wet kisses up your exposed shoulder, until he reaches your throat. He covers your skin in dark, purple marks as he sucks and kisses and bites down softly, making you whimper. His hands slowly travel south, getting hold of your delicate wrists on his way and then he guides them to your loincloth. "Undress yourself for me", Neteyam tells you and your quick to obey, untying the piece of clothing and discarding it to somewhere on the ground. "Good girl", he praises and then wedges one of his thick thighs right in between yours, his hands now holding your hips.
His grip on you was firm, solidly guiding. You could feel the strength of his hands against your flesh, not really rough, but not exactly gentle either. He positioned you to settle on his thigh before he rocks your hips back and forth. You gasp as your core makes contact with his warm skin, the muscles of thigh creating enough friction against your clit to make you moan.
You whimper softly, the tips of your ears burning with an intense heat as you stare up at him through lidded eyes. You can feel the heat pooling rapidly in the pit of your stomach, heart beating hard against your ribs and pounding loudly in your ears as your breaths come out in short, rough pants.
Neteyam experiments with different paces and pressures, trying to figure out the best way to make you feel good and it doesn’t take very long to find out what works best for you. Your hips are rocking against his thigh, and he breaks the kiss he had just captured you in, with a muted gasp and a thin, glistening strand of saliva that connects your lips.
You were growing wetter by the second, so much so that a wet patch was beginning to form on his skin.
"You're dripping all over my thigh,” Neteyam notes amused and you shamefully try to hide your face in the space where his neck meets his shoulder. Every rock of your hips was bringing you a jolt of pleasure. It felt so euphoric that you find yourself never wanting it to end. Everything‘s being stimulated with each buck of your hips and small shivers shot up your spine every time you brush your clit against his muscles.
"Hmm, I think you’re wet enough now", Neteyam hums softly as he brings your hips to an abrupt halt, causing a whine to erupt from you. He takes another glance to the piece of paper laying right next to you both, as if he was reading an instruction. Then he swiftly turns you around so your back is flush with his chest, slightly arched and with your ass pressing into his crotch. You could feel his hard erection already pressing against your bottom and it made you wonder if you were really already so far gone, that you hadn’t even realized that he had pulled his own loincloth off too.
One of his hands snakes up your front and closes itself briefly around your throat, mirroring the position of your drawing. "This what you had in mind, pretty girl?", he whispers against the shell of your ear, right before he pushes the thick head of his cock between your folds. His free hand sets on your hip, holding you in place when his tip finally catches on your entrance and he pushes himself inside. "Fuck, yes", you breathe out and nod, earning a chuckle from him. You can feel the muscles in his arms tense, groaning when his pelvis was flush with your soft bottom and he was fully settled inside the tight heat of your cunt. You let out a long, uninterrupted moan at the full feeling of how deep he was.
Your hands reach back to steady yourself on his hips, but he’s quick to snatch them. He bends your arms to let them rest in the arch of your back, holding them together with his big hand. Now it was truly like the most detailed copy of the drawing that you made. The position you were in, it was straight out of your imagination, out of every wet dream that you ever had about this moment and then bought to paper by you, not long ago.
Neteyams pace is slow at first. Somewhat in a teasing way, but mostly to let you adjust to him. You were tight, your walls were heavenly, warm and constricting him and getting even tighter when he increased his pace. In no time, you were all but melting in his hold, moaning out nonsense that was music to his ears.
"Just as tight as I imagined. Oh, great mother– I won’t last if you keep squeezing me like that." Neteyam was moving even faster now and you were moaning, hot and loud, with your head rolled back in the crook of his neck.
It was the perfect position for him to let his tongue dart out and lick at the corner of your lips, to which you quickly turned your head and let him capture your mouth in yet another heated kiss.
He pounded into you then, using your arms as leverage as he thrusts his hips up and into you, the head of his cock rapidly hitting your g-spot in the process. Your jaw dropped and your fists clenched, but oh, that wasn't all that was clenching. Your breathing turned needy and higher pitched, struggling to keep steady as he was driving you over the edge faster than you could probably even process it.
"Tey", you whined the sweet nickname that was reserved for you and only you to use, "Tey, I‘m— I‘m gonna cum!"
"Be a good girl and squeeze my cock when you do, yeah? I want to– fuck, I want to feel you cum around me", he groans, sweating from his own exertion as he pushed right into your sweet spot. And who were you to deny him? You did as you were told, flexing your lower abdomen to squeeze the cock that was roughly thrusting in and out of your fluttering walls.
Neteyams head fell back at the sweet, savory feeling of your tightness, so wet that there was hardly any resistance at all as you finally reach your high. "That’s it, you look so pretty when you cum. Such a good girl for me", he breathes as you choke on a moan.
You keep flexing your inner walls as best as you can, until you feel him tremble with the change. Neteyam moans and it’s the most erotic sound you’ve ever heard and then his movements become jerky and you know he’s about to come. You try your best to keep your eyes open, turning your head slightly to not miss the look on his face when he does. His mouth is slightly agape, eyes half lidded as they land on yours and with one last thrust he stills inside you. His cum is hot and sticky and you can feel it fill you.
Neteyams hands finally leave your arms and they’re aching from the weird position they were in the whole time, but you’re quick to ignore the pain when his lips land on yours again. Your familiar with his kisses by now, relishing in the way he still kisses you so hot and open mouthed and wet, even after he just came.
Your panting heavily when you break the kiss to breathe and immediately, Neteyam lowers his head to continue with his very own work of art, that he had left on your throat earlier. Small love bites and hickeys were already turning purple on your pretty blue skin, making you especially sensitive there and a small gasp escapes your lips.
"Was that the reference you needed, my sweet girl?" He asks against your throat before placing another kiss there.
"Hmh yes", you hum, a small smile appearing on your lips as you let out a little chuckle.
"Good. Now show me what else you got in that little notebook. I’ve got plenty of time today."
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fxrmuladaydreams · 8 months
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use me (mv33)
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max x reader
summary: max needs a way to take his frustrations out, you offer yourself to him
notes: !! contains smut minors dni !! i have other stories in the works but as a max girlie this took precedent, it had to be done after watching the singapore quali
You were on the edge of your seat watching the remaining 15 cars zoom around the track. Both the Red Bulls had been having issues during the weekend, not driving as fast as they had been in previous races.
You watched as your boyfriend, the reining world champion, made his final lap in Q2, scoring fairly low, and just falling further down the list as other drivers crossed the line. Liam Lawson of all people was the one to push Max down to 11th. You had to admit the kid was talented, but you knew Max was going to be very unhappy with the results.
You knew you were right when you saw Max get out of his car before they had even pulled it into his garage. He stormed away, pulling his helmet off his head as someone practically had to chase after him.
“He’s going to be pleasant.” A voice pulled your attention away from the scene in front of you.
Christian stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his headset now resting around his neck.
“He’ll be fine.” You tell him, however you know just how explosive Max can get when he doesn’t do well.
“You should go see him, calm him down. He won’t kill you.”
You snort. “Right.”
“Think you can calm him down in the next 30 minutes?” He asks.
“I can try.” You stand up to start heading in the direction Max walked off in.
You find him sitting in a corner, drinking from his water bottle, his eyes trained on the ground ahead of him.
You stand next to him and run a hand through his hair. While he would usually lean into you, craving more of your touch, he doesn’t react now, unmoving from his current position.
“How are you?” You ask, in an attempt to tread safely.
He scoffs, shaking his head. “I’m great, how are you?” He doesn’t hide the sarcasm in his tone.
You tilt his chin up so that he’s looking you in the eyes. You can practically see the anger swimming around in the blue eyes you fell in love with.
“You know the press are going to eat you alive if you walk in with that attitude.” You tell him.
He rolls his eyes, and looks back down ahead of him. “They’ll be cheering, dancing on my grave.”
You glance down at your watch. 25 minutes until Max will be needed for press. 25 minutes to bring back your happy Max.
“C’mon.” You take his hand, and slowly pull him up.
“Where are we going?” He asks, following you.
You lead him back to Red Bull hospitality, taking him up to his driver’s room. It’s small, a massage table sits in the corner, a shelf against the wall with more race suits and fireproofs.
“You need to get your anger out before you go do press.” You tell him as you lock the door.
“What, do you want me to throw things around the room?” He asks with his hands on his hips.
“I want you to fuck me.” You tell him, your voice completely serious.
He looks shocked for a moment. The two of you were always pretty private in your relationship, never showing too much PDA, and never having sex anywhere outside of your home. His shock soon dissipates, and turns into thoughtfulness, as if he’s thinking about the risk versus the reward.
You walk towards him in the center of the room. Your hands lift to his shoulders, softly massaging them before your arms wrap around his neck. You lean your head towards his, softly nudging your nose against his. He already looks like he’s losing his self control, his eyes watch your lips as you whisper to him.
“Use me, Max.”
He dives down to kiss you, his lips firm against yours. There’s no asking for permission for his tongue to enter your mouth, it pushes past your lips and tangles with yours.
You grip onto his hair as he hoists you up on the massage table. He stands between your legs, trailing his lips down your neck, leaving a trail of teeth marks on any skin he can find.
He tugs your shirt and bra off, flinging them to some corner of the room, desperate to have access to more of you. He travels down your chest, his lips wrapping around one of your nipples, teeth softly biting at it while his fingers find the other, pinching at it. After he’s satisfied he switches to the other, continuing his work.
Your pants and underwear are the next to come off as Max trails his fingers along your center. He smirks when he feels your hips move to meet his hand.
He pulls a whimper from you when his thumb brushes against your clit. He kneels down, pulling you to the edge of the table and lifting your legs over his shoulders. His hands press down on your abdomen to keep you still as his tongue laps over you.
His nose brushes against your clit, send a jolt to your hips. His hands press down harder on you as his eyes look up to meet yours. They’re a stormy blue now, his pupils enlarged and eyelids hooded.
“Stay still.” He says, his voice low and rough.
His tongue is quick to continue prodding against you, slowly pushing inside you as you let you a long moan. One of your hands flies to his hair, tangling itself in his light brown locks, as your other keeps yourself propped up.
Your taste is sweet, one of his favorite flavors really.
“You taste so good mijn liefje.” He softly moans against you as he eats you out, his nose now bumping your clit over and over until you cry out his name, cumming on his tongue.
This only encourages him, as he takes everything you give him. Your body is tired, exhausted from keeping yourself upright, ready to collapse on the table.
Max stands up and it’s only then you realize that he’s still in his clothes, his race suit still hanging off his hips, while you’re completely bare in front of him.
“I’m not finished with you yet schat.” He shakes his head as he pulls you upright to kiss you.
You can taste yourself on him, but it doesn’t matter to you, not when he’s kissing you the way he is. It’s all tongue and teeth and it’s messy, but still so good.
He pulls you off the table, your legs slightly wobbling beneath you. You’re surprised when he turns you around, keeping your body trapped between his and the table. You hear his clothes move around some more, the thick fabric of his race suit rustling around, then you feel him softly kick your ankle with his leg.
You spread your legs for him, wide enough to allow him room, but still close enough that you can stand comfortably.
He reaches a hand around you to feel between your legs.
“Think you’re wet enough to take me?” He asks. Max has always been a caring lover, even in his dominant moods he still checks in with you.
“Yes Max, please fuck me.” You lean forward against the table and push your ass back against him. You can feel his cock press against you as he grabs onto your hips.
He fists himself a few times before lining himself up with you then pushing in.
The stretch is a lot but feels so good. Max stills for a moment, leaning down to press a kiss against the flushed skin on your back.
His sweet demeanor quickly turns back to his dominant one though, slowly pulling out, then giving a harsh thrust back into you. You try to grip onto the table for dear life as Max pounds into you from behind.
Your moans aren’t quiet, yet neither are his grunts. The door being the only thing blocking you from the rest of the Red Bull team is the farthest thing in your minds at the moment.
He wraps an arm around your middle pulling you up so that your back is pressed against his chest. He’s still wearing his fireproofs, only having pulled the pants down far enough so that he’d be able to bury himself inside you.
The new angle causes him to sink even deeper in you. You feel so full, so consumed by Max.
He grins when he feels you clench around him. His right hand travels over your body, squeezing your breasts before stopping over your neck. He wraps his hand around it, putting a slight pressure on it as his other drops back down to where the two of you meet. He finds your clit, and rubs quick harsh circles into it.
He lets out a low laugh as you clamp down even tighter around him. He leans his head down, his lips brushing against your ear as he teases you. “You like that? Does that feel good?”
Your mind is so clouded over that you can only moan in response.
“Oh, you can’t use your words? You’re just dumb for my cock huh? It’s a good thing you’re so pretty.” He bites down on your neck, sucking a dark hickey onto it. “Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me again?”
You nod your head, feeling something tighten in your core for the second time tonight.
It only takes a few more rough thrusts before he’s got you cumming again, his name falling out of your mouth like a prayer.
The hand on your clit moves to your hip so that he can control his movements. His release follows as his thrusts become sloppy and erratic. You feel his warm cum fill you up as he holds himself inside you. He keeps himself there as you both come down from your highs. He softly presses kisses to your back as you catch your breath.
You hiss when he slowly pulls himself out. His hand falls away from your neck as he uses both to make sure you don’t collapse to the floor. He turns you back around and lifts you back up onto the table.
He finds a towel and spreads your legs to help clean you up. The sight in front of him causes his cock to stir with interest again, his cum is seeping out of you, trailing down your thighs. Your skin shines with the layer of sweat that’s coated your body. Your chest rises and falls with every deep breath you take. Your neck has several marks along it, fresh hickeys to show what you’ve been up to.
“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” He asks, throwing the towel away to a corner of the room.
You give him a lazy smile. “Not at all. I really enjoyed that.”
“I love you.” He says, helping you back down from the table.
“I love you too.”
You’re both quiet at you get dressed again. You still feel a little wobbly on your feet, but are beginning to regain your balance.
“So do you think you can handle the press without chewing anyone’s head off?” You ask him as you both head to the door.
“Oh definitely.” He grins.
He wraps an arm around your waist as you leave his driver’s room and head back to the main area of the paddock.
Max gives you a quick kiss before he separates from you to do his post qualifying interviews, leaving you with the rest of the team.
When Christian spots you he sighs. “Y/n… no…” he says as he looks at the marks along your neck and the way your legs shake if you stand in one spot for too long.
You shrug. “What? You told me to calm him down.”
Needless to say everyone was surprised when Max was calm cool and collected during his interviews.
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alastor-simp · 2 months
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Bon Appétit! - Alastor x Fem Chef Reader
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❥Summary- You were a very popular chef when you were alive, talented in making any dish in any cuisine. You sadly died from unknown causes and ended up in Hell instead of Heaven. You happen to find the Hazbin Hotel and applied for a job there as a cook. Everyone loved your cooking, including a certain red haired demon.
❥Tags: female reader, fluff, chef reader, friends to potential lovers, alastor is bad with feelings, slight romance, hazbin hotel gang, reader is an amazing cook, alastor is a foodie
❥Notes: I had this story idea brewing in my head for a whole week and I needed to type it out. Hope you guys enjoy it :)
"Hum hum hum hum~♫" Your head was bopping to the catchy jazz radiating from the radio. Your hands were placed against a metal bowl, one holding it and the other mixing it. Your name was Y/N, and you were the chef/cook at the Hazbin Hotel. During the time when you were alive, your dishes were very popular. You weren't extremely well known across the world, but everyone in your town knew about you and craved what you created. Your family owned a small restaurant, that was opened to all the locals. It was a bit difficult in the beginning since you were self taught, but as you got older, your skills improved. Over time, you expanded to other cuisines, ranging from American, Spanish, Japanese, Korean, and European.
How you ended up in Hell was still mind-boggling. You remember closing up the restaurant, and heading back to your apartment, only to see a large bright light and then pure darkness. You woke up after that in a very strange area, the sky was a pure blood red and the people around you seemed almost fictional. A large sign that said "Welcome to Hell" was a clear enough answer to where you were. Well there was no way for you to go back to the living world, so you had to just deal with it. Finding a job wasn't very easy especially since many of the places you saw, had very grotesque dishes, and you weren't skill with cooking eyeballs and beating hearts. You stopped at a wall covered with different flyers, some for killing services and job offers. The one that caught your eye was the very colorful one, decorated with stickers and glitter. "Hazbin Hotel huh?" That seemed like a good place to start, especially since hotels had guests and needed someone to provide meals. Smiling, you grabbed the flyer and began making your way to your destination.
Having arrived at the hotel, you were greeted by the owner, "Charlie Morningstar." She was ecstatic that you wanted to come and help at the hotel, giving you a crushing bear hug. She did ask about your skills and was very surprised when you said you were skilled in cooking. Dragging you inside, she allowed you to introduce yourself to the others. They were quite an odd bunch when you first saw them, but they seemed friendly. The demon holding Charlies hand was Vaggie. She seemed like a tough cookie, given how intense she was looking at you. Two other demons were sitting at the bar, chatting away. One appeared to be a spider like demon and the other was like a cat. The spider, who Charlie said was Angel Dust, gave you a flirtatious wink along with a hand shake, while the cat demon, Husk, just gave you a small wave. A small clattering of feet came from behind you, causing you to turn. You saw no one there, but then you felt something on top of your shoulder. Turning, you were face to face with a mini female demon with a large eye. She was gazing at you, wearing a huge smile, before she jumped off and ran back to where she came from. Charlie told you that was Niffty as she then introduced you to another patron of the hotel. He was a large black snack with pink eyes, wearing a grey suit and top hat. His face seemed nervous, but he had a kind expression. He gave a slight bow, while shaking your hand, telling you his name was "Sir Pentious"
Charlie kept looking around, wearing a confused expression. "Hey Vaggie, have you seen Alastor?" Vaggie responded with her head shaking no. A large black circle soon appeared next to Charlie, then began to form into a person. The darkness soon faded away from the person to reveal themselves. The demon was dressed in a striped red suit, that went well with his monocle and bow tie. His bob hair cut was a crimson red, and were those antlers on his head. His fangs seemed very sharp, given how well you could see them through his wide tooth smile. "Here I am, Charlie my dear!" His voice was etched with static, reminding you of the old radio you had at your restaurant. "AH! Alastor! Just in time! I wanted to introduce you to Y/N. She is looking to work as a cook here." She push you closer to him, making you stand a few feet from each other. "Hello, nice to meet you." Giving a kind smile, you extended your hand out for a shake. The smile on his face widen, as he bent down, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on it. "Charmed!" His gesture gave you small tingles throughout your body. He then removed your hand and stood back to his full height. "So you are talented in the kitchen I presume?" Smiling more, you nodded your head. "Yes! I am self taught and I started working in my family restaurant at a young age."
Charlie then butted into the conversation, eyes sparkling. "Wow that's so amazing. What kind of food did you serve?" You twirled your hair with your finger. "Well it was the classic family restaurant, so club sandwiches, mac and cheese, homemade pies, the whole lot. But, I wanted to expand my skills, so I explored other cuisines to try and master." Angel Dust had gotten closer and wrapped one of his arms around your shoulder, looking excited. "You any good with making Italian dishes toots?" Hehe it was cute how excited he was. You went over the list of all the cuisines you knew how to make, causing everyone's eyes to widen and mouths to drop, except Alastors, as he was still wearing a smile, but his eyes did expand a bit after listening to you. In a flash, you were pushed into the kitchen by everyone, faces adorned with wide smiles, waiting to see what you would make.
That felt like so long ago, as after amazing everyone's taste buds with your cooking, you were hired immediately on the spot. Realizing you were getting distracted from your thoughts of the past, you went back to cooking. Today you were making blueberry muffin cookies for everyone to enjoy.
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(Love making these⬆️)
The batter was all set, and what you needed next was the blueberries. Heading to the fridge, you opened the wide door, looking for the small container. "Ahh found you." Finding the small container, you grabbed it, moving back to allow the fridge door to close. "Salutations, my dear!" a static voice spoke next to you, causing you to scream, as the container from your hand dropped to the ground, causing all the blueberries to spill out. "Al! Don't do that!" your response earned a laugh from Alastor. "HAHA! Apologies, my dear! Didn't mean to give you such a fright." He batted his eyes at you, trying to appear innocent, but you knew he was joking. "Yeah sure you didn't. Great now I'm out of blueberries since someone made me dropped them." Your legs bent down to the ground, grabbing the blueberries. Standing back up, you marched over to the trash bin and threw them away. A loud *SNAP* came from behind you, causing you to turn around. On the counter was a mini basket, containing fresh blueberries. "Oh thank you." Looking back at Alastor, you gave a thankful smile. "Your welcome, my dear! May I ask what type of concoction you are preparing?" He bent down, leaning against the counter, with his hands under his chin. Grabbing a few handfuls of blueberries, you went to the sink to give them a quick rinse, before coming back after patting them dry with a napkin. "Oh I'm making muffin cookies. Was craving something sweet so I decided to make a bunch for everyone. I'll save you a couple." You smiled up at Alastor, as you tossed the blueberries in the batter, and began to fold them in. Alastor grimaced slightly at that, and just wave his hand at you. "No need, my dear! I don't particularly care for sweets!" You nearly dropped your spatula at that. He didn't like sweets things?! You had made other baked goods and desserts in the past since you been here and you had assumed everyone had gave them a try and loved them, so it was a bit of a surprise when Alastor told you that he didn't like sweets. "How come?" Tilting your head at him, you waited for his response. Alastor raised his head, giving it some thought, before he looked back at you "Just don't like overly sweet things. I have a very limited palate, so I prefer to stick with that." His smile widen at you, sharpening at bit as he seemed to be thinking of something gruesome.
You continued to prepare the cookies, scooping them and placing them on a baking tray. A sudden thought came in your head, and you turned back to Al. "What sort of foods did you used to enjoy when you were alive?" Alastor raised an eyebrow at that. "My, a curious one aren't you? Well I grew up in the roaring 1920s in New Orleans, Louisiana. Oh, how I miss the sights and the bayous. I preferred venison and other meats, but I did indulge on other culinary dishes from time to time. Gumbo, Jambalaya, Po boys, oh my!" Alastor seemed almost in a trance, as he kept talking about his past. It was nice to see him so happy and excited, when discussing the time he was alive. "It sounds like you really enjoyed it." Alastor looked back at you, eyes holding a certain tender look. "Yes indeedy!" Your eyes remained locked on each other, until Alastors eyes glanced to the clock on the wall.
"Oh! Seems its time for my broadcast! Ta-ta, my dear!" Alastor gave his microphone stand a twirl, before disappearing into the shadows.Once he left, you couldn't stop thinking about what he told you, about his past life. The joyful look on his face kept replaying in your mind, when he was discussing the delicacies he enjoyed. "I want to see more of that expression" you thought. You continued to brainstorm, as you waited patiently for the cookies to be finished.
**Evening- Alastors POV**
"Ah! What a pleasant stroll that was!" Alastor had arrived back to the hotel, after just finishing his evening walk. He arrived back quite late, since the other denizens were not parading through the hotel lobby and lounge. Placing his hands behind his back, he headed in the direction that would lead him to his quarters. A pleasant smell was wafting through the air, stopping Al in his tracks. "My what a enticing aroma!" Alastor leaned his head back, taking in the amazing smell. His feet began making his way, searching for where the aroma was coming from. He had arrived in front of the kitchen doors, which were slightly opened and the lights still turned on. Peeking his head through the crack, he was surprised to see you in the kitchen still. Your air was tied up in a bun, while you were adorning kitchen apron. One of your hands was busy, stirring inside a large pot, while the other was adding in some seasonings. Alastor gave a small knock at the door, letting his presence be known. "Still cooking, my dear? It is way past your bedtime!" Turning your head, you flashed a large smile at Al. "Oh! You're here! Come sit, its almost ready!" Your crooked your finger at Al, telling him to come closer and take a seat near the kitchen table. Alastor cocked his head at you, still confused on what was going on. He soon took a seat, placing his hands on his lap. "Wanted to surprise you." He heard you say, as he watched you grab a bowl, pouring the concoction from the pot to the bowl. You saw you walk closer to him, placing the bowl down in front of him. Alastor's eyes widen at the site, before turning to look at you. "My dear, what is this by chance?" Smiling, you took a seat on the other side of the table. "Its seafood gumbo!
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(Bowl in front of Alastor)
Alastor continued to gaze at you in shock, then back to the bowl , then back to you. "Did you stay up just to make this for me?" He saw your face flushed as you rubbed your neck. "I did yes! You appeared very happy when you told me what you liked to eat when you were alive, so I thought I would surprise you by making a Creole dish." Alastor continued to stare at you, his eyes going soft from how sweet the gesture was. The smell of the prawns and cajun spice was making his mouth water. "This is my first time making this, so I hope you like it." Alastor nearly jumped when he heard that. "My dear, you never cooked Cajun food before?" You shook your head no at him. "I always knew about Cajun cuisine, just never got to it. Now come on, hurry before it gets cold!" You gestured for him to start eating as you placed your hands under your chin, copying him. The smile on his face grew, as he looked back at the bowl in front of him.
**Your POV**
You were sweating like crazy. This was the first time you ever made gumbo, and now you were scared that you messed up. Last thing you wanted was Al to try it, then recoil in disgust. Your eyes watched him lift the spoon of the broth and place it in his mouth. His expression was unreadable, making you all the more nervous. As he took the spoon out from his mouth, you saw the gentle smile on his face. "Superb." He took another spoonful of the broth, placing it back in his mouth, letting out a pleasant mmm. Phew! you were glad he loved it. You continued to watch him eat, before getting up from the table and walking towards the oven. Alastor didn't even notice you leave, as he was too immersed in the dish in front of him. The savory taste of the broth and spice that kept flooding in was so nostalgic to him. Soon there was nothing left, and Alastor leaned back against the chair, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Absolutely amazing, my dear! Thank you." Alastor motioned his head to look at you, as he saw you removing something from the oven. "Your welcome! Hope you have some room for dessert?" Alastor gave a small grimace. "My dear, I told you before, I am not one for sweets!" Giggling, you placed what you had made on a bowl, before sprinkling some powder on them. "Are you sure? Something tells me these might change your mind."
Carrying a plate in front of you, you placed it on the table. Alastor eyes once again widen at the sight. In front of him was a plate filled with freshly made beignets, piping hot and covered in powdered sugar.
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"Go on, try one." You stepped back and made your way back over to the chair. Alastor seemed a bit hesitant to try them, the feelings of his past and his dislike for sweets were battling with each other. Moving his hand slowly, he grabbed one of them from the plate, hovering it next to his mouth. Finally he took a bite. Alastors eyes enlarged again, as he took another huge bite of the beignet, before grabbing another one. Soon there were no more left on the plate, only crumbs remaining. "Ahhhhhh~. Delicious!" Alastor wore a peaceful expression on his face, as he leaned back against the chair. He then heard you break into fits of laughter. "What is funny, my dear?" He eyed you curiously, as you kept laughing hysterically. "Ahahahahaha! You...you have powder all over your face!" Your finger was pointed up at him, as you were trying to calm down from laughing so hard. Alastor jumped a bit, before rubbing his mouth with his finger, seeing a trace of white on it. "Here, I'll give you a napkin." Getting up, you went to grab him a napkin for coming back to him. "Thank you!", Smiling, he grabbed it and began to clean his face.
Once he was finished, he looked back at you. His eyes held so much emotion, as he continued to gaze at you. He got up slowly from the chair, standing up to his full height, as he pointed his head down towards you. Raising a hand, he placed it on your cheek. "Thank you again, my dear. But, why did you go through all this trouble to make this for me?" Raising one of your hands up, you placed it against the hand that was on your cheek. "I wanted to see that expression of yours again. You seemed such in high spirits when you talked to me about your past, so I wanted to make you something." Alastor chuckled down at you, finding your reasoning simply adorable. "You reminded me of something my dear mother use to tell me "A way to a mans heart is through his stomach."" Your whole face flushed at that, painting your cheeks a deep red. Alastor slowly inched closer to you, bending his head down closer. His lips had landed on your cheek, giving it a soft peck, before he pulled back slowly to gaze at you. "Thank you again, y/n." His body began to morph into blackness as he became one with his shadow, and then disappeared from you, leaving you a blushing mess.
Tag List:
@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen, @aceofcards0-0, @jyoongim, @saturnhas82moons, @unholycheesesnack , @luujjvi , @forbidden-sunlight, @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping , @danveration , @demoarah, @cookiekyo , @iiotic, @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie , @lokis-imaginary-friend , @themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @pawstrey , @futureittomainn , @christinaatyourservice92 , @littledolly2345 , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 , @mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow , @madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel , @ainsliemac , @sweet06tart , @nobuharashinyao , @aria-tempest , @fluffismystaplefood
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Sukuna’s Wife and Yuuji’s Onee-chan (Sukuna x Reincarnated!Y/N) scenario
Request/Inquiry from @aikothingdream:
“It would be funny to see Yuuji also not like his teacher hitting on Onee-chan”
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Life as a cursed spirit’s “bride” was hilariously boring. 
Gojo described your cursed energy as below average, you had zero martial arts training or talent, and Sukuna threatened Gojo and Yuuji not to put you in danger. 
Yuuji was often busy training, studying, or hanging out with his new classmates. You were happy that he had people to look after him in your place, but without a job or a class to attend, you were a parasite.
To alleviate your guilt, you did everyone’s laundry (minus their unmentionables, even Yuuji who furiously insisted he was old enough to wash his own underwear–kids, they grow up so fast *sigh*), mopped the hallways, wiped the windows, and other chores. 
You just finished rearranging the clothes in your cabinet for the second time today. 
You sprawled yourself on the floor like a starfish. 
Free food, no rent. Everything was paid for here. This should’ve been the ideal life, but you were so booooored.
Spurned by the desire to fill the void, you went to the kitchen. No one was around. Of course. 
You searched the cupboard, but only found a half-eaten package of cookies. The fridge had a can of whipped cream on the verge of emptiness and some strawberries.. 
Shutting the fridge close with your hip, you chomped on a cookie and a medium-sized strawberry then sprayed a swirl of cream in your mouth.
“Guess who’s back with treats! I–ah.” Gojo Satoru stopped at the kitchen doorway, a plastic bag full of sweets hanging from his hand. 
A silence fell over as you saw each other. 
He stood there, quietly as you stared, frozen with a mouth stuffed with sugar. 
You: (⊙o⊙)
Gojo: ( ._. )
Gojo: …
Gojo: …pft.
You: …!
You forced yourself to chew faster, but expectedly, the thing that was supposed to be in charge of you and your brother burst into maniacal laughter.
“PWAHAHAHAHA!” 
“Mm…mf!” 
“Oh, man. I gotta take a picture.” He pulled out his phone. 
You wanted to say something, but there was too much stuff in your mouth! 
Gojo continued laughing between clicks and flashes until you started choking like a pelican who swallowed too big a fish. 
In an instant, he was behind you, arms wound tightly around your abdomen. “Please don’t die. It would be too pathetic!”
“Aurgh..!!!??” Translation: You think I wanna go like this, you a&%****!?
With one, strong squeeze, Gojo forced the food out of you. 
“That was close! Good thing I was here or who knows what would’ve happened.”
“...”
“Hm?”
“...”
“Not going to say anything? What’s wrong, nee-san?”
Feeling a vein near popping, you coughed out, “I believe I asked you not to call me that.”
“You’re so cold. Megumi and Kugisaki call you that. Even the second years!”
You had a couple of things to say, but considering that he technically saved your life, you opted to keep them to yourself. “Thank you for the help, now please let go. I’m going to clean this up.”
But as you said this, your knees buckled and his arms shifted to stop you from falling.
“Aw, don’t be like that.”
Whoosh
A giant knife flew towards Gojo, stopped only by his infinity. 
You both turned to find Yuuji standing by the door, panic and shock on his face as he gripped hard on his right arm responsible for throwing the blade. 
“I-I didn’t know how that happened, I swear!”
Sukuna spoke from his cheek. “You damn blue-eyed bastard. How dare you touch my wife so shamelessly?”
“Excuse me?! I just saved her from cho–” 
“Yuuji!” Embarrassed, you pushed yourself out of Gojo’s embrace and walked towards your brother. “Welcome home. Do you have any requests for dinner?”
“I’ve been craving curry rice since this morning.”
“I think we just ran out. I’llgocheckthestorageroom!” Flustered, you rushed out of the kitchen, forgetting your own mess. 
Yuuji quietly went to mop the food you choked out.
Gojo sighed. “Yuuji, what should I do, I don’t think your sister likes me.”
“Gojo-sensei.”
When Gojo met his student’s gaze, it held a surprising sharpness. “???”
“Thank you for taking care of us,” Yuuji’s normally cheery tone was flat as he spoke, “but please don’t bother my sister too much.” 
“???????”
Later that evening, in Fushiguro’s room…
Gojo: Megumi, why is everybody so mean to me?
Gojo: (˃̣̣̥ᴖ˂̣̣̥)
Megumi: Please leave. 
A/N: I tried to have more fun with this one so I was more liberal with my style. Anyway, I got a few more requests, the products are coming soon!
@shadowywizardarcade @hannya-exists @nineooooo @lilachaeyo @pumpkindudeishere @jessbeinme15 @fluffy-koalala @cringeycookies @frogzxch @isimpfordanielpark @marvelsgirl4ever @sanzusmom @sheccidoscar @marvelsgirl4ever @alastorhazbin @satosuguswife @lumaniii @leahlovesreading @blackstaw @nineooooo @boba--12
Other snippets of this au are found here.
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mitfloya · 3 months
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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥
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pairings. Rafayel x gn!reader
wc. 6.8K
synopsis. He believes that by isolating you, he can protect you from the outside world and ensure your happiness together. In his twisted mind, this is his way of creating a perfect and eternal bond, you’re his muse, his statue of beauty, his own aphrodite.
warnings. The following content contains elements of obsessive behavior, yandere thoughts, stalking, possessive behavior, and may include poorly written narratives. Reader is referred to as 'you'. Proceed with caution, as this writing may be unsettling or uncomfortable for some individuals.
a/n. Hiyaaa! Thank you so much for the people that have helped me make my post manage to slip through the timeline! I kid you not I had to break my spine with this issues I kept running into (the ori yandere Zayne post is gone, I’m sorry for the inconvenience), if any of you have any suggestions on how to make my post made it into the tags please tell them on the comments section. Get ready and have some snacks and hope you enjoy reading another hc I made
♡ Please reblog and comment on this post are much, much appreciated ♡
A manchild…? you love this guy? Me being a slander and simp at the same time
To put it simply, Rafayel is always the damsel in distress and YOU are his knight shining armor. He needs your attention and protection 24/7, you don’t want him to end up dead, do you? The whole universe will miss him. 
First of all, he loves you. Second of all, he hates you. 
You’re like a goldfish, how could you not remember the vows you both made when you were just a little kid?! The mere fact that you failed to recognize his face shattered his heart into pieces, for you hold immense significance in his life.
The weight of your indifference crashed upon him like a tidal wave, leaving his emotions in ruins. It was like a tornado tearing through his soul, causing a gut-wrenching ache that seemed to consume him from within.
It creates a twisted cycle of emotions that he struggles to contain. He yearns for the love you once shared, yet despises you for not remembering the bond you had. 
Perhaps he regrets not taking action in the past to ensure he could always locate you, to have left a distinctive mark upon you as a means of tracking your whereabouts.
You should’ve recognized him at first glance. Where have you been? He thought he lost you, he doesn’t even want to wish upon your death but you make it harder for him not to.
You’ve grown so much and so many changes but you’re still the same person he met at the beach, and it makes him feels so many emotions at once, it’s the first time he has managed to put a rein over his emotions, he could’ve coax you to come to his studio and locked you up, if you were to recognize him.
His heart longed to show much he misses you yet his mind tells him to seek revenge. It’s like his body and soul is splitting. Do you know how much damage you are causing him?
You must understand, my dear, that he is determined not to repeat past mistakes. It is time for him to take drastic measures, to make a promise that will bind you to him forever. He sees you as his ultimate protector, his unwavering shield. From this moment forward, you will never leave his sight again.
In his eyes, you have always belonged to each other, from the very beginning. Your destinies intertwined, your fates entangled. He craves the security of knowing that you are by his side, guarding his every step, his every breath. No longer will he allow even the smallest sliver of distance to separate you.
From the beginning you are his as much as he is yours.
His artistic talent is both his greatest strength and his greatest weapon. Through his art, he immortalizes his love and hatred for you, capturing the complexities of his emotions with every stroke of the brush. His creations serve as a constant reminder of his twisted desires. 
Initially consumed by hatred, he concealed his love, allowing it to resurface gradually, in subtle and tender ways. 
It’s the slowest burn you could ever imagine. Painstakingly slow.
As Rafayel's hatred gradually diminished, he began to express his feelings more openly, albeit subtly, leaving significant hints about the depth of his emotions towards you. Similar to a small forest fire that grows steadily, each progression was deliberate and methodical until it consumed the entire forest, an uncontrollable blaze that can’t be extuingish.
Say goodbye to freedom and welcome to his world, now that you’re his. He will be the center of your universe.
Clinginess is an inherent trait of Rafayel's nature. He craves your presence and attention, unable to bear the thought of being separated from you even for a moment. He will go to great lengths to ensure that you never leave his side.
You've grown accustomed to his playful nature and constant need for attention, but be prepared for an amplified version, as his demands intensify. Good luck dealing with your man ♡
He is a man of pride, he immortalizes you through his art, proudly showcasing pieces dedicated to you at his exhibitions. While abstract in form, this exclusivity serves to intrigue others, leaving them pondering what makes you so special in his eyes.
Unknown to you hidden away within his personal stash, there is a gallery dedicated solely to you. Every piece of artwork revolves around your existence, capturing his obsession with meticulous detail. The walls are adorned with portraits, each stroke of the brush reflecting his twisted love for you.
But at the very least, he showers you with lots of love and affection, no more holding back.
In relationships, he presents himself as a calm and romantic partner, radiating an aura of serenity akin to the sea. He enjoys spending quality time with you, whether it be casual outings or simply sharing space in silence. With him, you will never feel alone.
But do not be deceived by the calm waters, for they possess the ability to draw you into the depths of darkness, leaving you submerged and unable to resurface. His obsession remains unpredictable, much like the ever-changing tides of the sea. 
Oh, how you've stumbled into his clutches the moment you made that fateful vow. There is no turning back, my dear. You have fallen into the siren's trap, lured by his haunting charm. You are now forever entwined in his grasp, unable to break free. You should have thought twice before crossing paths with him if you weren't planning to stay.
He has two preferred methods of dealing with nuisances. He may choose to be smug and show off his superiority, rubbing his success in their faces. He revels in flaunting his success and talents, using them as a means to intimidate and belittle those who dare to steal you away.
However, if they persist, he is unafraid to resort to physical means, utilizing violence to eliminate them from your life. He goes to extreme lengths, even shedding blood and concealing the evidence of his actions, all in the name of safeguarding your well-being and maintaining his possessive hold over you.
His possessiveness knows no bounds, his desire to claim you as his own overpowering any sense of reason. He will go to great lengths to ensure that no one else can possess you, viewing you as his ultimate masterpiece.
When faced with difficulty or resistance from you, Rafayel won't hesitate to take drastic measures. He is willing to use any means necessary, including drugs, to put you to sleep and kidnap you. He will isolate you in his studio, ensuring that you will be together forever.
His studio, the place where he creates his art, becomes both a sanctuary and prison for you. Within its walls, he controls every aspect of your existence, dictating your every move and stifling your individuality. It is a place where his obsession can flourish unchecked.
You will forever remain under his possession, as he claims you and binds you eternally.
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© 2024 mitfloya — all rights reserved. kindly refrain from altering, translating, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.
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cepheustarot · 2 months
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Who's been thinking about you lately?
Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.
Paid readings
Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.
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Pile 1: The person of your age thinks about you, they may be your acquaintances, study or work with you, you may be in the same company with them, cross paths through mutual acquaintances or friends. A person is quite attractive, they can be called the soul of the company, it is easy and pleasant to communicate with them, they charge with energy and good mood. They are also very active in life, they do not like to sit back and stay at home, they like a mobile lifestyle. You can always rely on them as they will help solve the problem, give good advice, support and everything in this spirit. They are good friends, they can not only talk a lot about themselves, their lives but also listen to you, ask you questions about life, about you. They also think objectively, they cannot be called naive and they are not inclined to build illusions or castles in the air. A person very steadfastly endures all the trials and problems in life (and these problems often overtake him). This person can be called an optimist, but they also tend to get discouraged at times, to be in a bad mood.
In short what exactly is this person thinking about, he really wants to get closer to you, spend more time, trust you and have you trust him. However, they see that there are many good people around you who are also attentive and caring towards you. The person does not know what what to interest you, what can hook you in him, so now they are experiencing difficulties. Simply put, they do not know how to approach you, how to win your attention and most likely they are thinking about solving this difficulty.
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Pile 2: The person close to you is thinking about you here, it can be either a good friend or a person with whom you have a romantic relationship or with whom you are in love. A person themself is smart, responsible, they have a very confident vibe, they can be called domineering, dominant, they have a good reputation and people treat them with respect, considering them authority. They are quite determined, purposeful, they seize every opportunity, they are erudite, they can understand many topics and spheres of life, they are also successful and whatever they do, they succeed, any endeavors are accompanied by success. To some extent they can be called gifted, talented, they are masters of their craft. They are quite conscious, they know what they want from life and appreciate themselves, but at times they can be too self-critical. You feel very good next to them, you immediately feel warm in your soul, time passes unnoticed next to them, you feel safe and comfortable with them. In general spending time with this person here leaves you with purely warm feelings and emotions. 
In short speaking about what a person thinks about you, now you may be at a distance from each other, one of you has left temporarily or maybe you are too busy and can't find time to meet each other. This person misses you a lot, they remember moments together with you, they are nostalgic, they really want to meet you, they literally crave it.
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Pile 3: Here a person with whom you may be at odds or with whom you have a misunderstanding is thinking about you. In particular, I see here that for some it may be someone from the family, for example younger brothers or sisters, but it may also be a person with whom you often and closely communicate, someone from a close circle of communication. This person be acting aloof right now, not talking to you very much, and as if they are avoiding you to some extent? It is difficult for them to talk to you probably because they are still very worried about your quarrel, they cannot forgive or stop being angry, they are offended. In general this person is the opposite of you in everything, your views are very different. This person is also not very talkative, likes to listen more than talk, but they are very smart and wise, they will always help you and lend a helping hand. This person can also be a creative person, they can spend a lot of time drawing, making music, writing stories and all in a similar spirit. They are also the kind of people who don't talk much about their feelings and behave somewhat coldly, but in fact they are very vulnerable and sensitive, sentimental. 
Briefly speaking about what a person thinks about you: here they are still remembering moments from your quarrel, thinking over your words. On the one hand, they really want to make peace with you, but on the other hand, it is difficult for them to admit that they are wrong, ask for forgiveness or, conversely, forgive you. Now they are caught between two fires, not knowing which option to come to and they need time to at least let go of the situation and come to a definite decision.
Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 🖤
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bigfatbimbo · 3 months
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Why do you think that Vox would be/is canonically a brat?
This is actually a very good question oh my god. I’ll try to voice my thoughts coherently and in a way that’s not too long but here we go.
So we see in episode two Vox picking a fight with Alastor, only to realize he’s bitten off more than he can chew, and ended up humiliated on national television.
I can only imagine something similar would happen in bed. Like we see with Alastor, I feel like he really wants to show how powerful he is in order to keep his embarrassingly fragile ego super high.
I think it also comes from a place where he is like super resentful towards Alastor, in this case, because of rejection. That definitely translates into a desperate need for validation and approval because he genuinely works hard to keep his power while with Alastor it’s s just natural talent. Yes, that would make him incredibly insecure and defensive.
It also doesn’t help that he’s constantly around negative and toxic people, including himself. Like, the vees (especially Valentino) cannot be healthy at all. Between Vox, Velvette, and Val, they’re all egotistical, narcissistic assholes so it can only be assumed they don’t treat each other with too much kindness. (I do think they have a family like bond but, like I said definitely not too positive.)
So with those aspects of craving validation and failed displays of power combined, that literally has got to translate into him being a bratty bottom.
Because yes, deep down, he needs praise and approval, but of course he’s not going to show that immediately. As per usual, I feel like he bites off more than he can chew in attempting to be in control which leads to him getting put in his place by the real dom in the situation.
And that leads to him desperately grasping at any loose strings of power he can maintain in this situation. Those loose strings being bitchy and ungrateful comments.
I hope that made sense. I probably have more thoughts about this but not at the moment.
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hxzbinwrites · 3 months
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I definitely would love some Vox x Singer!reader headcannons. The concept is hella swag!!
Vox x Singer! Reader | Headcannons
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Warnings ⚠️: Drugs, very short
Vox has eyes EVERYWHERE, so he’s immediately taken aback when you and your skyrocketing career shoot up out of nowhere
Who are you? Where did you get all of this talent? When can he get a contract on your soul?
After your first album was in everyone’s ears, he knew he needed you. Either your soul or even you as a Vee, he had to share some of your power.
I mean, with a popular artist, you could spew any mumbo jumbo in your songs and people will eat it up, it’s a sure way power-grab.
Vox had been looking for you everywhere, but he could never find you.
He got even more antsy to get you on his side when he learned you were starting to deal souls of your own.
Even though you weren’t an Overlord, you were influential, and Carmilla thought that was good enough to be invited to the next Overlord meeting.
Once in the meeting, Vox immediately introduced himself and his proposal.
You denied the soul deal, and you didn’t want to rebrand yourself as a Vee, which pissed him off.
You reassured him that you would still be up for an offer with him, if he needed anything just to get in contact.
Without thinking, he asked you to live with the Vees in the V Tower, so you could be involved with the Vees, but not an actual Vee.
You agreed, seeing that was good enough, but you demanded to keep your studio in your small turf on the other side of the Pride Ring
Vel and Val were fine with you staying with them, but they were pissed at Vox for not warning them beforehand or even letting them in on the decision.
With this close, homey contact, Vox started to catch feelings. While each Vee, and you, had your own small penthouse on the top floor of the V tower, he desperately wanted to share one with you. Oh how he craved waking up to the sight of you.
One fateful night, after using some of Val’s drugs to destress, he got too loopy and banged on your door at 2:27am.
You begrudgingly drug him into your bed and made him sleep, curling him beside him
He was so confused and flustered to regain consciousness that morning, apologizing once you woke with him.
You just warned him to be careful before giving him a kiss, telling him to shut up and that you were going back to sleep.
Maybe he should take Val’s advice more often.
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webslingingslasher · 9 months
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taylor swift song request lesgooo!!! end game from reputation where y/n has a really big reputation as a 'bad girl' and peter (good boy loml) ends up tutoring her, and sees she isn't all bad...
first off, i am so sorry this took so long, you may not even be on my page anymore, but this struck something in me & i couldn't stop.
second, i switched up the request a little because if you listen to the song, (in a non snooty way lmao) taylor is the one expressing she wants to be with this person but she has a bad repuation and everyone's heard about it, and it's a lot to commit to because of the talk surrounding her.
---------
Everyone had it wrong. 
You were good. And kind. And smart. And talented. And confused. And lost. And just like every other kid in the school. You were good. You stayed to yourself. You didn’t gossip. You didn’t judge. You didn’t tattle. You were good. 
So why did everyone hate you so much? 
It was your brother’s fault. His reputation preceded yours and it ruined everything for you. 
He was the one that picked fights. 
He was the one that pushed teachers to the limits. 
He’s the one that sold dope from his locker. 
He’s the one that hooked up with a girl in the teacher's lounge. 
And the third floor bathroom. 
And the girls locker room.
And underneath the bleachers.
He’s the one that made everyone think you were just alike. 
It ruined everything about high school so far. 
Jokes, rumors, lost friendships, people refusing to date you. 
It was childish and unfair. You wanted one person on your side, the one person you watched in class, the one person that was nice to you in a school of jekyll’s. And you couldn’t have him. 
“Hey, still coming later?” 
Peter Parker had a smile that could make the devil buckle. He was sugar, spice and everything nice. Long time crush, but the part where you’ve been smeared into a good for nothing whore, made nothing possible. 
“You sure you still wanna do this? I don’t mind asking Mrs. Stu-” 
Peter called your name like you were telling a joke, “it’s my honor to tutor you! Don’t blow me off.” 
You want to protect him. You like him too much. He hangs around you long enough and accusations with his name start flying around with yours. 
“If you’re so desperate,” grinning brightly, “I’ll see you later.” 
Peter was so kind to tutor you. Your teacher asked on your behalf, she said she thought you’d be a good pair and you couldn’t deny the extra help, too bad Peter had to be the one on the chopping block. He was being a good samaritan and you knew what it would cause for him, even with the alone time you’ve been craving, you’d keep him pushed away at all costs. 
You didn’t want the fallout to burn him, you’re used to the sting and he’s someone that shouldn’t feel anything but a loving touch. 
Even if it would kill you, you’d have to pretend to be disinterested in Peter Parker and watch him walk away. 
Oh, the things you do for love.
—------------
You’ve never felt so paranoid in your life. You swore everyone was looking at you, or maybe they were looking at Peter. Telling themselves it seemed fit that a nerd would be trying his shot with the school whore, because it’s not like you’d say no. 
“Hi, can I sit?” Peter pointed at the patch of grass next to you, your eyes squinted as you looked up at him, it was hard reading his expression. You were the shade but he was standing under the sun, everything was washed out and too bright. 
“Um, here?” you pointed at the same spot, taking a chance to look around, you felt eyes all over you. “Yeah, I mean, unless you want me here?” He pointed at a patch on the other side of you, “or here,” gesturing next to your feet, “you know what? You choose, I’m the guest.” 
He’s so nice. Gentle, even. You hadn’t experienced someone so kind, so golden hearted, in a minute. His kindness shouldn’t be his weakness or his downfall. With one last scope of the scene you assume he could stay for a moment, at least you could figure out where to meet later. 
You give Peter a smile and pat the first spot he pointed out, “you can sit,” answering his original question. His backpack hit the ground first, jimming himself closer to the tree behind you to rest his back on. Peter’s fingers picked pieces of grass, you assume in boredom. 
“So,” you both speak at the same time, a soft exhaling laugh at the symmetry. You wave Peter along, the sooner he gets it out the sooner he can leave, the quicker he is with you the less he’ll be attacked. 
“Wanna meet at the library?” 
And have everyone see? Have his reputation smeared like your own? There’s a reason you don’t have many people around you, you can’t believe he doesn’t see it.
“No,” he’s taken a bit back by your blunt tone. Peter hums low, “your place?” 
You scoff, “absolutely not.” 
There’s no other option then, “alright, my place it is. Wanna come with me after school? We could take the bus, unless you prefer the subway.” 
God, there’s nothing in the world you want more. It was too dangerous, if you got close enough it’d be too hard to rip it away. If you were seen leaving school with him, going to his house with him, it’d be over for him. You would give him the mark of cain. 
It hurts more than you’d like to admit, you take your turn at plucking small weeds, avoiding his face. He’s hard to say no to. 
“I can’t. But, I’ll come over tonight.” 
You hate how happy he sounded when he answered, it was so unfair. You were a good kid, your brother was the bad one, but you dealt with all the repercussions. Your heart felt so weighed down, you wanted nothing more to reach out and hold Peter’s hand. 
You wanted a boyfriend. 
You wanted a friend. 
You wanted love. 
You wanted to feel accepted and heard and validated and supported by one person. 
But you couldn’t have him. 
“Cool. Wanna give me your number?” It’d be better than talking in person, easier to keep him away from you unless absolutely necessary. You nod, finally looking at him when you hand over your phone, he’s got a giant smile and you have to look back down at a patch of weeds with a single dandelion poking from it. 
“Yours?” 
Peter’s fingers brush yours when he hands his over, a warm jolt spreads down your wrist and into your elbow. It makes you feel alive, it’s a welcomed feeling. You try to forget it immediately. 
His screen is cracked and scratchy as you type your number in, feeling him watch over your face you scan the crowd of people. You swear you see someone pointing, you shove his phone back in his hand, scrambling to stand. 
“I’ll text you when I’m on my way, I have to go.” 
He’s not allowed to care this much. It’s unfair. 
“You don’t want to have lunch with me? I have half a sandwich if you want it, I know we only have like, ten minutes left but if you want it, it’s yours.” 
‘If you want it, it’s yours.’
Does he mean it? Is there a limit to what could be yours? 
Too bad you’ll never know. 
“Thank you, but I can’t.” He almost looks disappointed, you have to stop making things up. 
“You sure? I don’t mind sharing with you.” 
You do. He can’t suffer the same consequences you do, it’s too isolating. Lonely. You were lonely. He doesn’t deserve it. 
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll see you later, Peter.” 
Peter takes his time unwrapping his homemade sandwich from cellophane, he takes a bite from half and moans, outstretching his hand with the other half, still wrapped up. “Here, take it to go. My aunt made it, if you try hard enough you can taste the love.” 
He’s god damn irresistible. 
You take his gift, slowly backing away, “thanks, I’ll search for it.” 
Peter’s smile hurts your eyes, “good, it isn’t hard to find.” He’s adorable, even when he’s wrong. 
It must be his superpower. 
—-------------------
Peter’s aunt was two things. 
A lot, and very kind. 
You can see where Peter gets his aggressive pleasantry from, the moment she opened the door she was eager to please you. May wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug, her voice cheery in your ear.
“Oh my goodness, it is so nice to put a face to the name.” 
Politely patting her back you swallow thickly, she’s heard all about you and your make believe history. She’s kind but you know in the back of her mind she’s hoping you’d leave her nephew alone, get what you need from him and leave. 
“Nice meeting you too, you make a killer sandwich, by the way.” 
She gasps, pushing you away by your shoulders, moving her head to catch her eyes. An unfamiliar smile crosses her face, you don’t know what it means but it feels as welcoming and radiant as Peter’s. 
“Oh, good! He shared.” 
May said it like it was planned, like she could tell you were confused she broke your attention away. “I made cookies, because everyone knows you need sugar to help you focus.” A wink, she was so gentle, it’s something about those Parker’s. 
You play along, it’s nice to be welcomed for once. Even if it’s until you’re gone, the moment she tells Peter she knows all about you and to keep his distance. 
“I think I read a story on that once, nine out of ten dentists agree, right?” 
And just for a moment you let yourself dream, floating on your imaginary high of Peter Parker when his aunt laughs at your joke, her smile slowly dimming while she looks at your face, deep in thought. A confident head nod. 
“Peter was right about you.” 
You should take it negatively, but you don’t. There’s something about her that tells you she only means well. It must mean she hasn’t heard the bad things, but once she does, she’d be eating her words. 
But damn, if you aren’t curious about what Peter said. Was he nice, did he hint at a crush, did he make his aunt believe you were someone you’re not? 
“Peter was right about what?” 
The devil himself appeared from nowhere, his body standing next to yours, so closely you can feel hints of his cotton zip up hoodie brushing your arms. You closed your eyes to breathe slowly, the sight of him with his hands flat on the kitchen counter, leaning his weight into the laminate, his hoodie strings dangling in a tempting way. 
In a way you want to pull him closer by them, curling the fabric around your fingers and tugging him until his mouth is on yours. 
You’re easy to read, you can see it on May’s face the second you open your eyes. You know in an instant she knows that you like her nephew. Even more surprisingly, she looks excited with the knowledge. 
Her eyes flicker back to her nephew, “how lovely you said our guest was, what else did you say?” 
You can see Peter freeze, “May,” it’s a warning tone. His aunt bulldozes, “wasn’t it something about how pr-” You don’t know what she says, Peter speaks over her. “May!” Jumping in your spot, caught off guard by his sudden tone and volume change, Peter moves a hand to your arm, “sorry,” it was delicate, it was him saying he was only sorry towards you, sorry for catching you off guard. 
Fighting past his numbing touch, you smile, “it’s okay, I didn’t know you could be so stern.” 
You need to see a therapist, because you swear you shared a moment. “Only when it’s something I’m passionate about.” 
He’s talking about you, he has to be. You want him to be. 
You have no idea how you’ll keep yourself from tying to him. But you’ll give it a fighting chance. 
“You know what I’m passionate about?” Peter shakes his head, it’s hard to look away from his eyes, you never knew brown eyes could be so pretty. But you do, attention directed to fresh made chocolate chip cookies. 
“Cookies.” 
Peter won’t let you off that easy, “what kind?” 
You bounce different flavors over in your head, “you’re opening pandora's box, parker. I mean, are we talking grocery store, homemade, or bakery?” 
His arms crossed over his chest, “well, now I need to know every answer.” 
You blow out a breath like you’re about to compete in the olympics, “alright, off the shelf grocery, you can’t go wrong with double stuffed oreos. But, personally, those keebler elves, with the fudge? I love em, my mom stopped buying them cause I’d eat half the pack in one sitting, so now my dad sneaks them to me. But, I mean, you can’t go wrong with those little bakery sugar cookies, you know, the ones that stick to the roof of your mouth?” 
Peter bites back a grin, you weren’t lying, you really were passionate. 
“I know what ones you’re talking about, they’re gross.” It’s the most offensive thing he could say to you. “You’re wrong, but okay.” He laughs, “opinions can’t be wrong,” you pull your head back, “they absolutely can, yours is proof.” 
You look for support from his aunt but she’s long gone, you didn’t even see her back away. 
Peter rolls his hand, amping you on, “homemade?” 
You spit the answer quickly, “butterscotch oatmeal.” He’s never heard of them, or tasted them, but if you love them, he thinks he would too. “You’ll have to bring me some to try, they sound tempting.” Agreeing with him, “you’d never go back.” 
“Bakery?” 
“That’s the tricky one, it’s a rare find, not every place has them. But it’s my all time favorite flavor of anything ever made, s’mores.” 
Peter loves it, your favorite treat was s’mores and it fit you. 
His personal mission was tracking one down and bringing it to you. 
“S’mores? Really?” 
You nod, “really, really. If you find one you’ll have to try it, unless you have another wrong opinion and don’t like s’mores.” 
“Nah, I love s’mores.” 
Peter Parker was too good of a person to bring down. You need to shut down your admiration, because his alienation would hurt the most. 
—---------------------
This wasn’t good. No, this was bad. This was really bad. 
Peter Parker just called open season on himself and it was all your fault. 
You should’ve refused for him to be your tutor, that was the mistake. The moment it was agreed upon it was over. You should’ve never gone over to his house, if you hadn't then you would’ve never told him about your favorite cookie, and he wouldn’t have gotten you one. 
It happened in third period, he approached your seat and set a small white box in front of you. Your eyes flickered from the box to him several times before you asked, “what’s this?” A gift, you knew that much, he’s given you a gift and Jeffery Stewart was watching it go down. Peter would have an hour until he was tied to you. 
“Open it,” slowly opening the cardboard your heart skips three beats, once for each cookie. You’ve never felt so seen, dare you even say loved? He listened, that’s what it was. He listened to you and he tracked them down and presented them to you, he was proud. 
Peter Parker has made everything about your current life harder. 
“Oh my god, where did you find these?” 
He shakes his head, like it doesn’t matter where he sourced them, what matters is that he did. 
“You were right, they’re hard to track down, it took me three days. Surprisingly, they’re mostly seasonal.” 
You tsk, contemplating tearing one in half right now. “It’s so wrong, isn’t it? I mean, you can buy s’mores stuff all year long, so it doesn’t make sense.” Fuck it, it’s selfish, but he went above and beyond. 
Splitting a cookie, you hand half over, cheersing yours with his. You throw your head back and hum the second you bite down, they’re the best ones you’ve ever had. You weren’t sure if it was because they were that good, or because it felt like they were purchased with care. 
“Holy shit, Peter. These are unearthly.”
He’s in the same boat, he can understand why they’re your favorite now. 
Nodding excessively, “my world has changed for the better.” 
“Yeah, mine too.” It was a slip, you didn’t mean to say it. It came out without thinking, you said it sincerely, and he knows it. Peter finished the rest of his cookie and licked his thumb, “good, I’m glad to hear it.” 
This was bad. This was very bad. 
Because Peter Parker lays his hand on your desk and leans in, really closely, it makes you stop functioning all together. He needs to leave, he needs to back away, he needs to leave you alone. He doesn’t know what he's doing to himself, but you’re too selfish to stop it. 
Even with Jeffery Stewart staring you down like a dog in heat, a wicked grin spreads while he ropes over the many rumors he’s about to flood the halls with. 
“Wanna come over tonight?” 
Lost in a world of a million thoughts, all of them being about the distance from his lips to yours. Blinking back to attention you groan, “I don’t really feel like studying tonight, my brain is mush.” 
Peter nods, then moves in, just an inch closer, you feel like you’re about to die. 
“Not what I asked.” 
“I don’t-” 
“I asked if you wanted to come over, not if you wanted to study.” 
The room is spinning, everything is a blur. He’s flirting, Peter Parker is flirting with you in front of an audience. He’s fearless, it’s impressive. There’s no way he doesn’t know about your reputation, the things people say about you, the things you do. 
Suddenly, a chill creeps up your spine. What if he knows exactly what people say, what if that’s why he’s being sweet, what if that’s why he’s acting like he cares? Fuck it, you’ll call him out on his bullshit, but privately, you don’t need any extra attention. 
“Sure. Same time?” 
“Same time,” it’s set in stone when the bell rings, Peter knocks his knuckles on your desk before he walks away. It’s unfair how much you hate to see him pull away from you.
—------------------
The upside to being cynical is that when things don’t work out, like you plan, you’re not that hurt, because you called it the whole time. 
Just like Peter, you knew the second it circled back to him he’d be gone. It proved to be true when you heard mumbles by your locker, eyes flicking to you and back, quicker whispers shared. 
From what you’ve gathered, either Peter has seen your nipple piercings or he’s given you nipple piercings. Not that you had them, but that didn’t matter. What now mattered was that Peter was directly tied to you and your boobs were involved, that’s enough alone for him to get a clap on the back while you’re being shamed for even acknowledging your body autonomy. 
What a lame rumor, Jeffery Stewart could’ve gone to the moon with theories but this was the one he settled on? Usually he was a bit more creative, his last one ended up with you and the guidance counselor in the principal's office informing you that it was a safe space, and that if the school’s janitor came onto you it wasn’t your fault. 
It took three weeks for people to totally forget it, but those few weeks you’d hear claps and wolf whistles when you passed by the janitor's closet made you feel like you were on the constant verge of vomiting. 
Usually it wouldn’t bother you, but once they involved Peter’s name you felt sick. Everything you feared itching to life, and right when you heard a third possibility you couldn’t stay silent, slamming your locker door shut and giving wild eyes to the girl talking to her friend on your right. 
“Which one is it, Lindsey? Was he holding my hand while I got them done, did he see them, or did he do them? I don’t know about you, but if I heard three totally different versions of a story I’d question the authenticity of the claim.” 
It didn’t matter who was watching, you couldn’t hold it in.
You felt like you were on fire, you could see her sputter, like she didn’t expect you to call her out. You felt like the walls were closing in on you, she didn’t start the rumor but she was helping it spread and she was the closest person you could explode on. 
“C’mon, Lindsey. Which one? I want to hear your side, unless you think it went down a totally different way. What? Scared to talk?” 
Your throat’s closing, you can’t stop, you step closer, you shout at her. 
“Which one, Lindsey!” The hall was dead silent, for the first time you had no cares about who was looking. 
Her shoes squeak as she backs up, her eyes wide and blinking, a flash of terror, it makes you want to squeeze her and shake her, try to get her to understand this was what it felt like to be you.
“Fucking answer me!” Your voice cracked, she whimpered, fat tears falling. 
“None! I don’t believe any of them!” 
She doesn’t. You can see it written all over her face, she was just talking to talk, knowing you could hear every word she produced. It just made you feel sad. 
“You can hunt other women as much as you want, Lindsey. But the collusion doesn’t save you from the same hunt.” 
Lindsey nods, like she understands. But you know she doesn’t, you know she’ll keep being the same, until they turn on her, and then she’ll wonder why no one stands up for her and how anyone could believe the jargon they say about her. And on that day, you’d be nodding with the crowd. 
—-------------
If Peter told his aunt about today she had an excellent poker face. Because she was more than happy seeing you when she opened the door, hugging you close before she could even shut it.
“Hi, sweetheart! How are you doing?” Politely hugging back, you talk back in her ear. “Hi, Ms. Parker, I’m good, how are you?” A squeeze before you’re released, her hands warm on your shoulders. 
“Oh, please, just call me May. Did Peter give you the cookies?” 
You nod while biting back a grin, she might have a clue for how you feel about her nephew but you’re not announcing it either. “Good,” she’s got something in her that makes you feel like she’s more of a wingwoman than aunt. 
“Peter’s in his room, I won’t be back until late, are you sleeping over?” 
You feel off balance for a second. May’s leaving you and Peter alone, for several hours, and then suggests you’ll be spending the night. She really is a wingwoman. It makes you second guess everything Peter might have told her, it’s clear she can see your mental gymnastics when she pats your arm. 
“He said you guys are gonna hang out, maybe watch some movies. I just meant, will I be surprised if I come home to you two cuddled up somewhere.” 
Is she saying not to fuck in the common areas?
“Are you saying-” 
“Keep it in his room.” 
Mortified. She must assume the worst out of you, you’ve only met her twice and her thought was that the second you were alone you’d be fuck bunnies. To be fair, Peter is really attractive. She can tell how embarrassed she’d made you and she’s quick to jump over it. 
“No accusations and no shaming. I’d just rather be clear to both of you. Peter had a worse conversation, be glad.” 
You take that as her permission, and that she likes you. She has to, she just implied she’d be cool if you and Peter hooked up. Even if the world hated you, having her approval made you feel like you had someone to impress again. 
“Okay, I understand and accept the rules and boundaries of your home.” 
May laughs, hooking her purse over her shoulder she pats your arm again. “You’re a good kid, don’t forget that.” 
And that made you want to curl up and cry, you haven’t had unprompted support like that in years. It worked, because you’d never, not once, cross any boundary of her’s. In fact, after that? You’d die protecting hers. 
“Thanks, May. See you later.” 
A wink, “See you later, honey.” 
You took a second to breathe, and look over yourself in the mirror before approaching Peter’s door. Knocking for a second and opening it when he answered, he spun one eighty in his desk chair, a blur of blue plaid until he settled. 
Before he had a chance to speak you did, “did your aunt give us permission to have sex, or am I tripping?” 
Peter’s grin dimmed, he looked to his closet doors while his cheeks tinged pink. “I promise you, whatever she said to you, is nowhere near as bad as my talk.” 
“She mentioned that, was it all about the ins and outs of pleasuring a woman?” 
Peter’s avoiding eye contact, you came here to tell him he should keep his space but watching him shrink under your questions made you feel powerful. Each blush he gives makes you want to dig in further. 
He more or less shrugs, it’s a damn bold line, you don’t even know what you're saying until it comes out in full. 
“Tell me, Parker, could you please me?” 
Seconds tick, you can hear it on his clock, finally he looks at your face. Any trace of a blush fallen, it makes you feel choked. 
“I’m not sure, but I’d love to find out.” 
Panic. He’s not supposed to say that, he’s supposed to back down. You’re supposed to back him down.
Peter can’t go down this road and it’s your job to block his path, but you can’t stop yourself from moving out of his way. 
“I mean, since you already know about the nipple piercings…” you trail your words, expecting a sneer. Instead he laughs, a full on body laugh, it makes you smile, just the pure happiness radiating from him. 
For once a rumor is just something you can laugh about. 
“Psh, of course I knew about them. I mean, isn’t that the third time you’ve had them?” 
It was. You didn’t realize it but that was the third time the rumor was reused. You didn’t notice but he did, did he notice all the other ones too? All the ones that stated how bad you were? Did it even matter if he believed them, you didn’t think so, at least not at this point, you just didn’t want him to suffer the same fate. 
Peter pats the top of his bed, “take a seat,” your stomach lurches, the thought of being in his bed enough to ignite you in flames. His aunt said keep it in his room and he’s luring you right in, your palms feel like they’re sweating. If he heard all the rumors about you sleeping around and thought you were like that, he was about to be disappointed. 
Holding your eyes shut and squeezing fists you rush the words out, the quicker said the quicker this would be over. 
“I’m a virgin!” 
Instead, he looked utterly confused, looking around his room like he was trying to figure out where the explosion came from. Settling on a low release of words, his eyebrows furrowed in, “so am I?” 
Just to be clear, “I’m not looking to change that tonight, so if that’s why you wanted-” 
“No!” Peter almost slips on the floor he stands so quick, “that’s not at all why I wanted, I just thought…” He doesn’t know how to say it, he almost said he thought you needed a friend, but that could be offensive, or worse, he’d be friendzoning himself for you. 
“Thought what, I’d be an easy piece? Cause I know you’ve hea-” 
“I asked Mrs. Sturgis if I could tutor you!” 
You stop talking, his words looping in your brain. That doesn’t make sense, because if he did ask then that means he wanted to tutor you, that means there was a deeper meaning, that means when his aunt said he talked about you it went further than what was said at school. 
“Please,” he pleaded your name, “come sit? Just for a second.” 
You follow his command and sit on the edge of his bed, watching Peter pace as he combs his hands through his hair. He’s nervous. 
“I don’t know how to talk to you, my brain is just… you make me really nervous.” 
“Why did you ask to tutor me?” 
Peter stops moving to look at you, it was easier to answer when you asked. 
“So I could talk to you.” 
It’s a start, “why?” 
“I just wanted you to trust me. I hear what everyone says, and I don’t believe a word of it, but I didn’t want you to think I was asking for the wrong reasons, or making a joke out of you.” 
Your face scrunches, “you thought, I’d think, that you asking to tutor me, directly, would be a joke?” 
Peter shakes his head, sitting back in his chair and taking a second to answer you. 
“No, I think if I asked you out on a date you’d think it was a joke.” 
You laugh, “well, yeah… It’s not like you…” 
Except he does, and you can see it all over his face. He really, really does. With the new knowledge you don’t know how to act, suddenly aware Peter Parker sees you in a different light. He doesn’t see you as his student, he sees you as a potential mate. 
You only know fight or flight, and your flight option was crawling further up his bed, backing away until your back hit the wall, a dull thump produced. You give a barely audible, “ow,” your brain racing with thoughts, trying to catch up with his admittance. 
“You okay?” 
You’re thankful he can’t see you, the top bunk perfectly cutting your head from his viewpoint. 
“Peachy,” you can barely speak. 
“Cool, cause it seemed like you kinda freaked when I implied I wanted to ask you out.” 
You nibble on your thumbnail, “implied or asking?” 
“I’d rather ask when I can see you.” 
How is he so calm, he was the one that was just pacing the floor talking about how nervous he was. Now he’s a smooth talker.
“Is that why you asked to tutor me? So you could ask me out?” 
“Maybe, but you also need a tutor.” 
Rude. Fair, but rude. 
“So, you like me?” 
You wish you could see the smile he has, you know he has one, you can hear it in his laugh. 
“What would give you that impression?” 
You shrug, but he can’t see. “I don’t know, you’re not nervous anymore.” 
“I don’t have to be, the girl I like likes me too.” 
You gasp, you’ve said no such thing! There was absolutely nothing to base his accusation off of. You mock his words. 
“What would give you that impression?” 
Another laugh, you wish you could see that laugh. But once you emerge it’s over, it means he’s signed his life away to be with you. An act of selflessness you didn’t know was possible. 
“Look at yourself, you’re hiding cause you’re petrified to be asked out.” 
“No, I’m not. I’m protecting you, cause if you don’t ask, you won’t be ridiculed.” 
You imagine he looks offended, because he sounds it. 
“Do you think I give a shit what anyone thinks?”
“It’s isolating, Peter. I’d feel like I’d bring you down, and you don’t deserve that.” You take a breath, “you’re very kind, and I really like that.” 
“You’re kind too, and smart, and really, very, pretty. And I think once you have a boyfriend and a friend group, things won’t be so bad and everyone will forget why they teased you.” 
You hum, playing with your nails and chewing at your bottom lip, silence took over. It was a rush of a lot of emotions, you’re shocked and excited. You’re also panicked and jittery. It was everything you feared and wished for at once. 
Peter Parker is asking to be in your life, no matter the cost. 
That’s the bravest thing you’ve ever witnessed. 
Clearing your throat, “who would be my boyfriend?” 
Peter pretended to think about it, “you could have whoever you want.” 
“Anything you want, it’s yours.” An immediate flashback to the first day he sat with you, you mumbled out the words and scooted, just an inch, from the wall. 
“What was that?” 
You announce it, moving forward another inch, “anything you want, it’s yours. You said that at lunch the first day you sat with me, do you still mean it?” 
There’s just something you’ve been dying to do, something you’ve been wanting to do. And he said whatever you wanted. 
“Whatever you want, I mean it.” He sounds sincere too, you move forward a few inches. 
“Have you kissed anyone before?” 
Peter doesn’t understand the correlation but he’ll entertain it. “Yes?” 
You offer up more information, hoping he’d catch the hint. “I haven’t.” 
He doesn’t. “That’s no biggie, I think over half the school-” 
You speak over him, “but, I want to.” 
It takes Peter a second to register it, and when he does he almost collapses. 
“Oh. I see. Um, want me to come in there, or you come out here?” 
Your heart races, he’s so willing to do whatever with no qualms, you just asked and he’s delivering. You were about to have your first kiss with your number one crush, and he liked you too. 
“Wait, you’re gonna do it?” You’ve never been so excited. Or anxious. Were these the butterflies people talk about? 
“I’m sorry, did I read that wrong?” 
“No, you’re just… right now?” You think you’ll puke all over him, that’s why you’re stalling. 
You can see Peter drum his fingers over his pants, “do you wanna hold off for a second? I’ll do it whenever you want.” 
Your heart clenches, “Peter,” you groan out his name, “stop being so nice, it hurts.” Waiting a moment before continuing, “I’m gonna suck, and you won’t like me anymore.” 
God, you wish you could see the cocky grin smear, you can hear it, but you want to face him more than anything. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose. He knows you can’t stay hidden forever. 
“Wanna bet?” 
Why not? If you really think about the last year and change of high school, what else would you really have to lose? 
Plus, he was really cute. 
Overwhelmed with the knowledge of knowing you were about to have your first kiss, you slowly shimmied to the edge of the bed, right where you were before you hightailed it backwards. 
Peter looks even better than you’ve pictured, his hair fluffy from where he ran his hands through it. A greeting smile rested on him, and his bright brown eyes warmed. “Well, hello there, I was afraid you got lost.” 
Sucking the life force from your bravery, “I was told there would be kisses out here.” 
A surprised look crossed Peter before he fell back into neutral, pushing off his desk to glide over in front of you, his knees knocking yours, suddenly you feel panicky again. “There absolutely can be.” 
Peter catches your nerves and figures it’d be easier to actually get it over with, because the second he would pull away all panic would hit near bottom ground. Using what little skill he has, he rests his right hand on your thigh while his left cups your face. 
You suck in a breath, following his guide when he brings your face up to his. Peter swipes his thumb across your cheekbone and you feel everything in you be set ablaze with desire. 
You wonder if he can feel how warm your cheek is under his touch, if he does, he doesn’t comment. When you give him no disagreement he leans in, he can hear your breath hitch, it brings him a little pleasure to be the ‘cool’ one in the situation. 
When he’s closer than you would’ve ever imagined he gives you a grin, “hi.” It was a hushed whisper, you give him one back, “hi.” Your eyes flash from his gaze to his mouth, you were caught, it makes you look down at your hands. 
Your mind spirals, why hasn’t he kissed you yet, and also, what do you do with your hands? Giving it a shot you press them against Peter’s chest, but it feels like you’re pushing him off, so you move to his shoulders but it doesn’t feel quite right. 
“Want some help?” Peter caught on to your struggle, of course he did, he just notices the little things with you. He doesn’t even pull away, just bringing his hand that was on your thigh to bring your left hand around his neck. Your right hand outstretched to rest on his ribcage, when you look back he seems much closer, this time he’s looking at your mouth. 
“Do-” 
Peter cuts you off, a hushed whisper, “I’m gonna kiss you now,” you breathe in sharply, “oh, okay.” Peter can’t fight the smile, “is it?”
You don’t get a chance to answer, his mouth is on yours, and it’s heaven. You feel like you’re floating, his lips velvety smooth, the only way you know how to show your shock and appreciation is by gripping his shirt. Peter’s bottom lip favored your top lip, moving into his kisses awkwardly. He was much more experienced, but he didn’t make you feel overwhelmed, it felt like he was guiding you. 
You didn’t feel like you were doing much, but it felt like everything you imagined. It made you dream of a day where you could do this with him whenever you wanted. It felt like he was pulling away, you refused to part and followed him, holding tight to his flannel. It failed when he was able to push you away with ease. 
Peter sounded slightly winded, you were blinking with stars in your eyes, your heartbeat in your throat, and just a little shy to look at him. “Funny thing about kissing, you gotta breathe to keep doing it.” 
You're new to it, gulps of fresh air weren’t as refreshing as him. You wanted to kiss him again, but you didn’t want to put him out, and you still weren’t sure how to initiate or ask for it. 
Peter tapped on your knee, “wanna take me out for another test drive or are you happy with your purchase?” 
He wanted to do it again. 
That’s a good thing. 
“If I buy it, does that mean the test drives stop?” 
“Of course not. That just means you don’t need to ask to drive it.” 
You lean in this time, “but I have to ask now?” 
Peter speaks against your lips, “it would be the customary thing to do.” 
“Well then,” you speak softly and look at him, “would you kiss me again?” 
Your eyes close when he brushes against your mouth, a kiss is pressed to the corner of your cheek, “depends, are you planning on purchasing?” 
Boldly, you give him a chaste kiss, “everyone at school is gonna hate my new car.” 
Peter kisses your cheek, “best in show, baby. Best in show.” 
You take a deep breath, it wasn’t a bad thing to need someone. And it wouldn’t be bad to let yourself have them. 
Peter Parker heard everything everyone said but he wasn’t even listening, it felt dizzying, for the first time someone saw the real you, the good you and wanted you. He wanted nothing and everything at the same time. You liked him, maybe a bit too much, and the risk of losing him was enough to send you flying. But the chance of love, and hope and trust was even bigger. 
Someone wasn’t scared to have a big reputation with you. Peter Parker was proud to have the same big enemies as you. 
And for that reason, 
“Sold.” 
826 notes · View notes
iamasaddie · 8 months
Note
Congratulations, bestie! 💕 This is only the beginning. You are SO talented, one of my fave people on tumblr. I would like to request. . .
Joel Miller vaginally double-penetrating you with a dildo and degrading you for it 😇
Thank you! Love you so much! 🖤🖤🥹🥹
My love, my dark queen, thank you so much! You have no idea what an inspiration you are to me! Your creativity astonishes me every fucking day, and I'm here for it!
Now, I said I was gonna do 500-words drabbles. I know I did. But I'm a clown, and something happened with my brain. I hope you find this little thing enjoyable. Because I sure as fuck had a lot of fun writing it!
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he hurt me but it felt like true love
paring: dark-ish!Joel x f!afab!Reader rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI) word count: 1,5k~ warnings: ER; PWP (for real, no plot at all); erotic humiliation; double vaginal penetration; sex toy; emotionally estranged Joel; kinda toxic Joel?; explicit sexual content; degradation/praise; unsafe PinV; pussy slapping (barely); dirty talk; anal scare; no use of y/n. let me know if I missed anything. dedicated to @toxicanonymity MY MASTERLIST (I will eventually create a separate link for all the celebration fics!)
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"You didn't actually think I won’t find it, did ya?"  
You've been wet for at least an hour now. When Joel came up to you in the kitchen with his unusual, deceivingly sweet nothings, rubbing your lower back and whispering how much he missed you, you were stupid enough to stay clueless. Joel was not the soft kind. Joel was not the "kiss you out of nowhere" type. And he definitely wasn't the "I missed you today type". He was the "missed this fuckin' pussy' while lightly slapping your quickly dampening crotch" type, and you were okay with that. So why his sudden softness didn't raise alarms inside you right away you didn't know. Now, as he is standing between your parted thighs, buried to the hilt inside your ever-so-welcoming heat, and swaying the rubber dick you've kept hidden in your bedside table, everything clicks. Judging by the look on his face you know you're fucked. Big times.
"I guess, if my cock's not enough for a slut like you, I might just use it. Maybe then you’ll stop bitching so much."
Without as much as waiting for you to come up with some kind of response, he continues pounding into you, his thrust harder than ever. His hand tightens around the black rubber of the fake dick and for a second you're mesmerized by how easily his large hand fully envelops the sizable girth. You're quickly brought to reality when Joel presses the head of the dildo into your asshole. You start sweating, and at the moment it is not at all from excitement. You know Joel, you remember him whispering how much he wanted to fuck your other hole, but it never came to that. The thought terrified you more than thrilled, and today wasn't the exception. But Joel looked angry, he looked like he might just…
"No, no, please, Joel, not my ass," you trashed your head from side to side, trying to push him off you but he held you down too hard.
"What?"
Admittedly, 'no' wasn't a word that sounded in your bedroom often. You were ready to give all of yourself to him, however he wanted. Your response to his desires was almost Pavlovian: whatever he wants - he gets, and you thank him for that. So when the syllable slips from your lips, you don't know if he's more angry or dumbfounded. 
"Please," you continue to beg, knowing full well that was his Achilles' heel. Joel loved seeing you ruined, and begging for release, for a break, didn't matter. Your voice is shaking and the tears streaming down your cheeks are not an act you can put on sometimes to give Joel what the demon inside him craves. "Not my ass."
His pounding is relentless, you know you'll have bruises on the inside of your thighs from his hip bones hitting your skin so roughly. When he slaps your thigh and bares his teeth, you kind of already know that you've won. 
"Do you fucking think you call the shots here, doll?"
"No-oo," your voice trembles, but this time not from fear, because he's already easing the pressure of the fake dick from your tight ring of muscles but not removing it completely. "I don't, I," you whisper, shaking your head, "I beg… just… please."
Joel is smiling, and no matter how maniacal it looks, your insides flutter. He is the most handsome man you've ever seen. 
"Think your cunt is greedy enough to take two cocks?"
And the fear's back tenfold. You can't even fathom the idea of having two cocks inside you if they were regular-sized, and Joel... Well, he was huge, to say the least. It took you a week of abstinence after you first fucked him - or, rather, he fucked the shit out of you - to not feel like you'd been torn apart. You grew accustomed to him with time, the feeling of him on top of you, or pounding into you from behind, weighed out the discomfort that you grew to love. But what he suggests now, you don't think it'll work.
"What?" By the look on his face, you already know there's no way he's gonna fall for you begging again.
"If I'm not putting it in your ass, you better beg me prettily to put it in your cunt. Or," the unsaid rest of the sentence speaks for itself when he pushes into the tight entrance of your ass but it doesn't give because of how hard you clench it. Your choices are quite slim when you weigh the options.
"Please, please, Sir, put it in my pussy. I want it so bad. I want you to fuck me with your cock and the toy, please."
He huffs a laugh at the stream of pleadings leaving your breathless body, finally bringing the toy away from your asshole and inspecting it. 
"I guess both of those cocks are mine now."
You play along, because you know, the more obedient you are, the less he'll want to hurt you. "Please, stuff me full of your cocks, I need them in my pussy."
His sigh is heavy like he's tired of you, but by now you know him too well to see through the bullshit. He's excited, more than he's been in a while.
"What a greedy fucking cunt, can’t believe you ask for two cocks in your hole when you could barely take mine alone."
You nod fervently and spread your legs further when he all but throws the dick in your face. "Suck on this for a while, I'm tired of your whinin’."
With trembling hands that you barely unclasped from the sheets you'd been grabbing too long and too tight, you bring the toy to your mouth and get to work. He doesn't even look at you as you slurp and spit on the rubber, the obscene sounds are just background noise.
He brings one of his fingers to your entrance that's already stretched on his dick and pushes in with methodical movements, after a few pumps he hums in approval and squeezes a second one into your pussy.
You squeeze around him and bite down the rubber dick in your mouth, because you're overwhelmed with gratitude for him actually taking time to stretch you out, but at the same time because you feel like you might snap any second.
Joel slaps your clit with the palm of his free hand and stares into your eyes, a warning in his voice. "Fucking relax that cunt. You wanna be a greedy bitch, you gotta act accordingly."
For a fleeting second, he circles his thumb over your clit, and even if your brain couldn't make you, the sting of pleasure forces your body to relax, that’s when he pushes his third finger in and starts thrusting with abandon.
"That’s it, little slut, now we're talking." 
The sheer pressure, the amount of him inside you is hard to comprehend. You feel like you have a fever, you sweat profusely and you don't know if you want to cry, scream and push him away with zero strength that was left in your body, or beg for him to continue. You don't have the time to figure it out, your body taking over your mind when a string inside snaps and you cum all over him. Your pussy spasms at first, and you know it's painful for him because he hisses and takes his fingers out, but you don't own your body anymore. You can't do anything about it. You don't even exist. After the twitching of your cunt around his still very hard cock subsides, you feel euphoria. Like you're a puddle, not even a liquid state, but a gas. The cock falls out of your mouth, and it's coated in saliva, bite marks visible on the silicone head.
Joel stretches as far as he can without separating from you and snickers. "Fuckin' glad that wasn't my cock in your mouth."
You're delirious when he lines up the dildo to your stuffed, drenched hole. As he slowly pushes in, the scream rips from your chest, and you tear the side of your lip with its intensity. You're overstimulated and trembling, you feel your legs start to shake and get numb. The fullness inside you is soul-stirring, it almost feels like you're being torn apart and put together into a better version of yourself. Stronger, more desirable. It's a heady feeling, you're afraid of it. Afraid of never feeling it again.
"Good job, looking like a proper fucking slut, baby." His praise is sick and foul, and it makes you feel like you're worthy of fucking Gods. "Fucks sake, you're so stretched, my cock'd fall right out of ya whore pussy if I took that toy out, wouldn't it?" He tries to push the cock in at the same time as the dildo, so the emptiness when he leaves changes to the dizzying feeling of fullness when he pushes back in. The tell-tale feeling of tightness enslaves your body and once again you can't help it when your body is constricting without your volition, warning you about the upcoming burst.
The tears run down your face and you taste their saltiness on your tongue, you almost drown in it.
"Don't fucking cry." Joel's enraptured by your body, by your strength, but he'll never tell you that. "You asked for it yourself, now be a good slut and cum on my dicks, come on."
When your release gushes out of you, you fail to tell Joel that for the first time with him, you actually cried tears of divine happiness.
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ethereallyjade · 3 months
Text
Pick a Card: Traits of Your F/S
Choose a photo that calls to you and the cards will tell you a message. As always, this is just for fun. Do not take anything seriously or above legal or medical advice. If your interested in personal tarot readings and want to support me, check out my Paid Readings! Masterlist
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1 - 2
3 - 4
Images are not mine
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Pile 1
Your F/S might wear big clothes. I'm seeing dresses, baggy clothes, or just oversized things. I'm getting somewhat emo vibes or they might just like black clothing. They are great at keeping optimism and picking themselves back up after periods of grief. Your F/S might have a hard time connecting with others or has had a bit of a rough past in terms of relationships. They could be a bit of a rebel as well or just crave more freedom in their lives. Back to their looks, their clothes might stand out in some way. Something about them or their personality is bold, but they don't even mean to be. They might have a very simple look, but it's so different from those around them that it comes off as bold, because I'm picking up on a very quiet and even reserved energy from them so I don't think their looks are a very conscious choice on their part. Either way, I'm still seeing that they're confident in themselves and have a leader like potential.
Pile 2
Clumsy, and colorful. Might wear sweaters or hoodies a lot. Could have an affinity towards churches? Or maybe really likes historic buildings or museums. Likes to travel. Likes the ocean. They are independent and trust their own decisions. They might move homes a lot and don't like living in one area for too long. They might live or be from somewhere with a cold climate. They have a humble upbringing. Could have come from a broken home, divorced parents, low income, or even faced homelessness at some point, but I'm seeing that they're ready to move on from that or have already. All in all, they're a very talented person and they're ready to take their opportunities. They might be from a different country than you.
Pile 3
Clean, smooth, "Must be perfect." Maybe their a Virgo lmao. I'm seeing that they can be the type of person to put up a front. They appear as well put together, mature, clean, and may even be seen as a leader of sorts, but on the inside they're definitely struggling with something. They might be a really naive person, and find themselves often being taken advantage of by those around them. This could also be taken as they're a very emotional person and need to learn how to put up this courageous front so that they stop being taken advantage of. As far as physical appearance goes, I'm seeing someone who's blond, medium length hair. Might like wearing blues and greens, dresses or long shirts. They might like to accessorize themselves. They may also be the type to really dress up when they leave the house, but dress very casual or im hearing 'bummy' behind closed doors lol.
Pile 4
They like hanging out with friends or even partying and drinking. They love to travel. I'm seeing a very happy and positive person hear. Maybe they can be randomly contemplative or have big dreams which is something their friends find odd about them because they usually have a kind of careless and partying type of personality. On the flip side, I can also see this as being someone that does not like to party. Maybe they're surrounding friends have a careless, parting attitude towards life and they want to break free of that and work towards something they find important. They might not be very close with their friends or feel like they've never fit in with their friend group, and again, dream of going somewhere else or leaving to find their people. They might contemplate moving overseas, so they might either be a foreigner to you or maybe you both move to a new country together. For physical traits, they might have curly hair. I'm seeing a lot of the color red. That might be their favorite color, or a color they wear a lot. Maybe their hair is red. I'm also seeing that they might get dressed up often.
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ozzgin · 9 months
Note
Omg love your page!.. could you write there was a prehistoric reader who was found with pickle and the t-rex, they noticed that pickle was protecting the woman who was visibly pregnant and almost as tall as him (Sorry if you don't write for preg just a head cannon I thought of 😅)
Thank you and no worries, it’s definitely doable! I’m actually surprised to see how popular the idea of a prehistoric reader is. That’s the charm of requests I suppose, other people sharing their unexpected, creative ideas with you.
Baki Headcanons: Prehistoric! Pregnant! Reader
Featuring an extra protective daddy Pickle and his challengers. Since I’ve already done some backstory on a prehistoric reader, this will focus more on the vulnerability of a soon-to-be Jurassic mother and how that tweaks the character interactions.
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Pickle was the first one to awaken and had to be sedated just as fast, since he immediately begun searching for you, increasingly angry. Everyone had to be evacuated and it took several chloroform bombs throughout the building, but they managed to gain some time.
The scientists didn’t necessarily enjoy separating him from his mate, but after the initial shock of discovering the fetus you were carrying, they wanted to see if by some miracle you both could be revived in a similar manner. A prehistoric resurrection was downright ridiculous to begin with, but a pregnancy frozen in time? Peak of absurdity, and a never seen before breakthrough. Everyone could see their names published in top scholarly journals like Nature.
In a race against the clock, they fumbled with the medical machinery in order to confirm the health status of you and your unborn child. They weren’t sure if a second attempt of sedation would be as successful on the enraged, worried father.
Once all the variables are measured and safety is confirmed, they release you to join Pickle and they exhale in unison, grateful to have escaped the wrath of the Jurassic creature.
Pickle is further motivated to fight his challengers, because this time it’s not just about his hunger and entertainment: he has a duty to his mate, and you need to be fed properly. Though you aren’t as excited about digging into these miniature humans. They remind you of children.
The fighters thread carefully around you. While you may look vulnerable, you have a similar build to Pickle and they’d rather not risk underestimating you. Pregnancy can lead to unpredictable reactions if it means protecting the offspring.
You quietly watch over the fights, like a Roman emperor contemplating the fate of his gladiators. Will the matriarch spare the defeated? Pickle is but your humble servant, ready to act on your wishes.
No matter how you look at it, you just can’t stomach the thought. You stroke your fertile belly and feel overwhelmed with pity. The frail humans have impressed you with their strength, but not enough to want their flesh torn apart.
I’m almost convinced that Yuujirou’s mind would immediately wander to the breeding potential the moment he sees you. Just imagine the powerful outcome of combining your ancient warrior genes and his superhuman modern talent. Yuujirou stares at you long enough to trigger Pickle’s suspicions, and he immediately stands in front of you, reminding everyone that he’s the only one whose children you shall carry.
Retsu and Katsumi view motherhood as something sacred and will treat you like an ornate porcelain piece that could break at any moment, if not careful enough. If your mouth twists the wrong way they will join Pickle in a confused, hurried quest to satisfy your cravings.
Baki and Jack are almost as protective as Pickle, especially when Yuujirou is within several meters distance. You find it greatly amusing when the tiny humans form a shield before you, guarding you from unknown dangers. You clap your hands excitedly at all this entertainment provided to you.
You have to remind Pickle to take a break every now and then, rubbing your knuckles into his tense shoulders. He’s been alert ever since you’ve been brought to this mysterious world and you don’t blame him. Everything is new and confusing and you don’t know what to expect. But all that matters right now is that you’re still together and your family is safe. Pickle rests his forehead against yours, touching your stomach in an attempt to detect any movement. His eyes narrow in a smile when he feels the barely noticeable kick. He misses his old world dearly, but his home is not lost. It’s right in front of him.
1K notes · View notes
vinvantae · 10 months
Text
Unmasked
Part 11/16
<<< previous part
Word count - 4.1k
warnings - minor injury. lots of social media posts. chapter starts off in first person!!
***
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It’s a comfortably warm morning in Monaco, the café I’ve been asked to go to is quaint - tucked away in a narrow street off of the beaten path but you get a perfect view of anyone coming towards you. A waiting game to see which of the people who cross my path is going to be her. I can’t help but study every woman who steps onto the cobblestones, but as soon as I see none other than Charles Leclerc come around the corner, hand in hand with a woman - it all clicks into place.
Y/n y/l/n is Thirty.
Both of them greet me with a smile and a warm handshake as they step inside the cafe - bringing a cool breeze in as they open the door. Charles looks smart in a linen shirt, chain around his neck, and a watch more expensive than a regular person’s annual salary on his wrist. And y/n looks effortlessly beautiful in a sundress to complement the warm weather, before I can start digging into her being Thirty I have to ask about her perfume - her signature smell is to die for. She laughs, pulling out a travel size from her purse to offer it to me, swearing she has a full size at home.
As you can imagine, I have a lot of questions. But let’s just start at the beginning, how did the whole Faceless driver idea come about?
Y/n leans back in her seat a little, Charles’ tanned arm is draped lazily across the back and he uses his hand to squeeze her shoulder.
Ferrari were really interested in having me as part of the team but it was risky y’know? A woman, let alone an 18 year old woman in one of the top teams was unheard of.
She pauses as the waiter takes our order, Charles ordering for us all in Italian - I can’t help but notice the way y/n studies him, a soft sparkle in her eye. Their relationship seems easy and when she turns her attention back to me, she seems a little more sure of herself.
I was part of the Ferrari academy since I joined GP3, but that and then F2 just never felt truly challenging to me and I craved more. F1 was where I belonged, it was just about getting there. I believe it was Maurizio Arrivabene who ended up suggesting keeping my identity a secret. The press from that alone brought in more sponsors than the team had ever seen and as you know, Ferrari has never had much difficulty with that.
Her answers are rehearsed, not in a media trained way, but in a way of a woman who has had to keep her identity a secret for her whole career and is finally getting to speak the truth. I understand why she would want Charles here, her teammate and boyfriend is a calming presence - keeping quiet as he knows she deserves the spotlight after all these years.
You never won a championship in F2, how did you convince them that you were good enough for F1?
She takes a sip of her drink, taking a deep breath before softly shrugging her shoulders as if she’s not entirely sure herself.
I spent a lot of time in simulators and they could see what I could do on track from the races in F2 and GP3 that I did win. I like to think it was never a question of if I was talented enough for F1, not to be cocky, but I knew I was - it was whether or not it was worth risking me in Ferrari or if maybe I should start in a sister team. But in the end, it was for the best. I won them two championships after all, so I’d like to think that it was worth it.
Speaking of championships, not only are you the only woman to win the WDC but also the youngest overall, how did you feel?
A fond smile tugs at her lips and she reaches into her bag to pull out a small stack of photos. She slides one across the table to me - it’s of her in her driver’s room, helmet off but still in her full kit with her arms wrapped around the trophy that won her the title. I asked her who took it and she told me it was ‘Seb’ - Sebastian Vettel.
I was so overwhelmed. Everything I had ever dreamed of had come true but I couldn’t share it with anyone outside of Team Thirty and, of course, Seb. He brought a bottle of champagne up to my room and we drank the whole thing. It was one of the best days of my life, wouldn’t change it. If being faceless was what gave me the opportunity to accomplish my dream? Then I’m grateful for it.
And then you won your second in 2018, how was that?
Even better than the first time. Lewis and I had such an intense rivalry for those couple of years that it was such a strong feeling of victory. We raced so well against each other and really brought out the best in each other, I think. I’m not sure if he feels the same but I’m glad that we got to share that experience.
The couple both offer me another drink in unison when they notice I’ve finished mine, sharing a soft laugh when they realise. Charles leans over and presses a gentle kiss to her temple before taking our empty cups up to the counter to get us some more coffees. The two seemed so in sync as teammates, it’s no surprise that they work well as a couple too.
How was the transition when Charles joined the team? You’d been teammates with Sebastian for your entire career up until that point.
Honestly? It was a little scary at first. Seb was a mentor for me and when I had to meet Charles properly for the first time I was worried about how he would react. But, he’s been nothing but good to me. Before we started dating he’d always sneak into my driver’s room to keep me company and made sure that no matter how my race went - I had someone to talk to about it. He’s become my rock and I’m so lucky to have him.
He pushes me to be better, but has never let me be anything but myself.
When Charles returns to the table with a tray with fresh cups of coffee, he hands them out to us before sitting down - shuffling his chair closer to y/n so he can fully drape his arm across her shoulders. She relaxes in his hold, looking away from me for a moment to thank him for the drinks.
I know we’re interviewing y/n, but Charles, what was it like having to keep formula one’s biggest secret?
Difficult. He frowns a little. The amount of times I wanted to properly congratulate y/n or correct people when they said he was insane. I know I may get in trouble for this but I think keeping her hidden for so long was a mistake. Other women and girls should’ve been able to know that one of them was a formula 1 racer and a champion. She’s one of the greatest of our generation and she should’ve been celebrated properly.
I can see she’s touched by Charles’ words, despite - I’m sure - he’s said them to her before. This article is about learning about Thirty, yes, but I don’t think I can truly do that justice without talking about how the pair of them interact. I’m not sure whether it’s the years they’ve been teammates or the time they’ve been a couple but they just complement each other so easily.
So, you were teammates through 2020 and 2021, how did this relationship happen and why now?
The two of them share a look, one - as a journalist - I’m familiar with; whilst they do truly seem to care for each other, I have a suspicion there’s something they can’t tell me. But I don’t press.
I think during 2020 we were still just strangers, getting to know each other as people and as teammates. We didn’t spend a whole lot of time together outside of Team Thirty meetings or on the track y’know? And then 2021 I was in that title fight right up to the end so it just didn’t seem like the right time as I couldn’t really give him the attention he deserved.
We did begin to really become friends during 2021, he would make the extra effort to see me outside of meetings. And whilst Charles has since told me that he’s had these feelings for a long time, it took me a little longer. We’re definitely a case of he fell first, but I fell harder. I’m so smitten with this boy, you have no idea.
Charles was watching her as she spoke, the undeniable pink tinge of his cheeks was hard to miss. No matter what they were keeping to themselves, it was clear the two of them were very happy together. But it was time for more questions about the Thirty of it all.
So, why now? You’ve been faceless for nearly 6 years, what changed?
Well, after it leaked that I was a woman and I won the race in Imola - Team Thirty and I had a very big meeting about it. I’ve been ready to face the world for a while but with the team determined for another championship win this year, it was originally put on the back burner. But, I knew it was time. This year I could win my 3rd title and I wanted to do it with my face, my name not just a number.
I’ve also had so much support from both Charles and Sebastian with this. They helped me figure out just what to say to the team to convince them that now is the right time. I don’t know how long I’ve got left in this sport but I want to be here as y/n for at least some of it.
She excuses herself from the table to go to the restroom, that same fragrance from before following her as she walks past me. Charles sips at his coffee before leaning forward a little as if he’s got something juicy to share. I can’t help but be intrigued, leaning in also to listen.
She’s gonna do it, you know. The WDC is hers this year.
What about you? I ask. Shocked that he’d admit it about his teammate, he’s the Tifosi’s golden boy and is ahead of her in terms of points. He simply smiles and shrugs his shoulders.
I think now she’s got this out in the open, there’s truly nothing holding her back. She’s going to be unstoppable behind the wheel- this weight of her secret won’t weigh her down anymore. Yes, I want to be world champion, and you bet I’m going to fight for it until the very end… but I would be lying if I didn’t think she deserved it.
He straightens up in his seat as she returns, smiling as she leans down to kiss him before taking her seat - asking if she missed anything important. I know she’ll read what Charles said when the article is released but for now I keep it to myself, simply shaking my head.
Okay, let’s mix it up, get to know y/n a little more. What is your favourite track and why?
I think Bahrain is always going to hold a special place in my heart, I got my first win there. But, if I had to choose an all time favourite…I think it has to be a tie between Imola and Monza. Being surrounded by the Tifosi in such hoards really makes you want to do your best. Seeing oceans of red as you drive around is inspiring knowing all these people are in your corner. Now, I know in recent years, they’ve taken a particular liking to a certain Monaco native but they always showed me nothing but support and I hope they continue to do so now they know who I am.
Speaking of the Tifosi, do you have anything you want to say to them?
I mostly want to thank them for being my biggest supporters despite not knowing who was beneath the helmet. Thank you a million over Tifosi, I love you guys more than you’ll ever know.
Who was your racing hero growing up?
Oh there’s so many drivers out there I love but Susie Wolff for sure - she’s such an inspiration to women everywhere. And I know it’s probably silly but Lella Lombardi too, I know she only got half a point in her career but she made it into formula one when everything was against her and other women. But as a kid, it had to be Michael Schumacher. I met him a couple of times and he was nothing but kind to me. He was always honest with me that it was going to be tougher being a girl but he always believed in me and that… that was everything.
We’ve also heard through the grapevine that you’ve been approached by several other teams for next season, anything we should know there?
She smiles softly before shaking her head. Ferrari have actually matched the best offer I received, but at the end of the day they’re the team I want to race with so we’ve extended my contract for at least one more season - hopefully more. Besides, I’ve got the best teammate a girl could ask for.
Charles chuckled softly. Back at you, mon amour.
I think that’s all I really have to ask for now, thank you both so much for meeting with me. I’m not sure what I expected but you exceeded my expectations.
Oh wow, thank you so much. Thank you for being so kind… If I ever need to do another interview, you’ll be the first person I call. That’s for sure.
So there you have it, y/n y/ln is our mystery driver. I don’t know about you but I cannot wait to see what she does now that she’s been unmasked. This season has just got very interesting.
***
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***
You weren’t a fool, you knew there was going to be a little push-back to your reveal - but there was a very loud minority who made it abundantly clear just how much they hated you, that they just didn’t believe you could possibly be the driver they had been supporting all these years. Within an hour of GQ releasing the article, #NotMyThirty was trending within the F1 community. They’d called you every insult under the sun and it was hard to focus on the praise when they were so loud and the press focused so much on the criticism. It didn’t help that once you’d been revealed, a certain Redbull team principal decided you weren’t worth the offer they made and he very publicly retracted it.
“Y/n, cherie.” You felt the mattress sink next to you as Charles sat beside you on the bed - the duvet pulled over your head. “We need to go soon, have a plane to catch.”
“...why don’t they just get Jenson to do it. Or better yet, get Michael up and on his feet so he can get in the car when I couldn’t possibly be a two time world champion.” You grumbled. “I’m just a stupid paddock-bunny.”
Charles frowned softly. “Hey. Those idiots have no idea what they’re talking about. You’re one of the greatest talents of our generation, they’re just jealous fools who couldn’t get into the sport if they tried.”
The Monegasque smiled softly as you peeked over the top of the duvet. It was hard for you to believe him but you knew he was going to sit there until he got you out of bed - so you put on your best fake smile. “You always know just what to say, huh?”
He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, pulling a gentle hum from you. “Mhmm hmm, I’ve got a talent for it. Now seriously, get your beautiful butt out of bed… we’ve got a flight to catch.”
You weren’t sure what to expect when you arrived in Miami, Charles’ hand wrapped around yours as you both stepped into the paddock. The cameras and press were on you in a literal flash, you simply smiled and waved a little. “Hey, y/n, look.”
When you followed the direction of Charles’ finger, your heart skipped a beat when you saw fans at the barrier with signs for you. The loud minority who despised you were currently nowhere to be seen - people shouting and cheering. Your boyfriend was positively beaming as he tugged you over to them, you couldn’t believe people actually wanted your autograph and pictures with you.
You could feel tears prickling in your eyes when a young girl told you just how much it meant to her that she had a female idol in the sport. It was hard not wrap your arms around her and never let go so instead you took a photo with her. “I got you a present… made it as soon as I found out you were a girl like me, it’s a bit messy ‘cus I didn’t have a lot of time.”
As you held your hand out, she slipped a bracelet around your wrist - it was made out of chunky plastic beads; flowers, fake pearls and the word Thirty written out in pink. It was the girliest thing you had ever seen but you could tell just how much it meant to the girl - her little eyes sparkling as she waited for your response.
“I love it! Thank you so much!” You grinned. “Hey, I’ve got something for you as well.”
You took your cap off of your head and scribbled your signature on the brim before sitting it atop her head. “Think this suits you much better.”
Your heart felt full as she turned to her Dad and bounced with glee, showing off her brand new present. You smiled softly and as you turned to Charles, you were suddenly hit with a sharp pain in the side of the head, right by your eyebrow - making you wince and reach up, eyes widening when you pulled your hand back and you saw blood on your fingers. You only just saw a glimpse of security dragging a man shouting expletives away from the crowd. “Oh my god, y/n, are you okay?”
“Yeah uh… what..” You blinked a few times, feeling a little dizzy, eyes scanning the floor to see what he’d hit you with - eyes landing on a crumpled up can, as you pushed your toe against it, you could feel there was still some liquid in it. “I… I uh…I think I should probably go to the medical centre, just to be safe.”
“Of course, shit, yeah.” Charles looped an arm around your waist and helped you through the paddock. Before you left, you caught the eyes of the young girl again and the look on her face broke you - she looked terrified. She was the walking personification of how you felt in that moment.
You had to fight back the tears as the two of you walked through the paddock - the memory of meeting some of your fans for the first time, tainted forever by that one dickhead in a Redbull cap. You were expecting some hatred, but you weren’t expecting physical violence. As you stepped into the medical centre, you were immediately ushered into a room and patched up.
“I can’t believe he did that, cherie. I’m so sorry… I-I should’ve been paying better attention.”
Your brow furrowed as you got up from the exam table, the medic having left the two of you alone. Charles stood against the wall, head lowered as you crossed the room to join him.
“Hey, hey.” You took his face in your hands. “Don’t you dare, you couldn’t have known he was going to do that… I… I’m starting to think this was a mistake.”
“Y/n-”
You shook your head. “I’m sorry, I just… I knew there was going to be some backlash but, I’m not sure I’m cut out for this…”
“Cherie-”
“Can I just be alone for a little while, please? I’ll catch up with you later.”
Your teammate’s eyes flickered across you, you could tell he wanted to protest but instead he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before leaving you alone. The lights in the room hummed softly as you sat down in the empty chair beside the exam table, covering your face with your hands and letting out a soft sob.
Being unmasked was what you’ve wanted for as long as you could remember, but you hadn’t taken the time to really think about exactly what that meant. That your face, your name would be out there for everyone to pick apart. You wanted to put on a brave face and go out there, pretend it didn’t bother you but it did.
None of your achievements mattered - all that they cared about is that you were a woman, a fake, the drivers’ personal mattress. And your relationship with Charles was thrown right back in your face, the defending Ferrari was supposed to be doing didn’t seem to be helping at all. Any time the PR team spoke to the press, people always had some sort of comeback - another reason to add to the list of why you didn’t deserve any of it.
You rubbed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to shove all of the cruel accusations to the back of your head as you left the medical centre. As you turned towards the Ferrari motorhome, you saw Lewis leant against the wall - foot propped up against the wall as he scrolled on his phone, no one even batting an eye at him. He looked up at the sound of the door closing and gave you a gentle smile, pushing his phone into his pocket. “Hey, I just came to check if you’re okay. I heard what happened.”
“Said it was gonna come up as a bit of a black-eye but I’ll be alright.” You shrugged.
“I’m more worried about how you’re feeling, y/n. I know no one knows what you’re going through right now but I’ve been through similar enough crap to know that it’s not fun being singled out for something you can’t help.” His voice was soft as he stepped closer. “And I know it’s easier said than done but you just gotta try and ignore it.”
“...I don’t know if I can.” Your voice cracked. “Th-They’re attacking insecurities I didn’t even know I had. I’m not sure I’m cut out for this, Lewis.”
He looked around the paddock before checking his watch. “We’ve got some time, come with me.”
You lowered your head and followed your fellow driver into the Mercedes motorhome through a back entrance and up to his room - his dark eyes flickering back to you to make sure you were following close behind him. With a hand on the small of your back he ushered you into his room, closing the door behind. “You should probably text Charles, let him know you’re here.”
“Uh yeah… Yeah, good idea.”After texting your boyfriend, you sat beside your rival on the sofa, his arm draped across the back. “They’re going to crucify me if I have any bad races. Any mistake, any slip up… they’re going to drag me to hell and back. I just… I know I should ignore it, I do, but it’s hard to ignore when it’s smacking me in the side of the face.”
“”I know, I get it. I’ve been there… you just need to try and remember you’re not alone. I’ve got your back, so do Charles, Max and Sebastian. Don’t disappear into yourself, okay?” His voice was gentle but firm, but it just felt so quiet compared to the throbbing pain you felt in your temple.
You nodded. “Yeah, I know. Thank you… I should get going.”
You were taken a little aback when you were pulled into a hug as you stood, his strong arms would’ve made you feel safe in any other circumstance you were sure - but you just felt so defeated by it all. You gave him a gentle squeeze before heading towards your own garage, Charles throwing you a worried look from his side - still unsure how you’d ended up with Lewis. You simply nodded at him before popping into a side room to get into your racegear, ready to get into the car for the first time without your mask on.
“Hey, how’s the suit fit?” Your trainer approached you, a gentle smile on his face. “Must feel good that it’s finally got your name on it, right?”
“Uh yeah, it fits good.” To the untrained eye, the smile on your face was simply of a distracted person - getting ready to race, but Charles could read you like a book and he just knew something was wrong. Something more than a slight headache and the bruise blossoming around your eye was weighing you down and getting into the car in the mental headspace you were in was trouble waiting to happen.
But before he could cross over to you, try and clear your head just a little bit, he was summoned for first practice - one of his mechanics ushering him over to his car, allowing the driver to get one final glance at you as you pulled your helmet over your head.
All he could do now was hope that you wouldn’t get in your own way - as having a bad weekend would just sink you deeper into the feeling you weren’t good enough. You were a champion for a reason. But the minority who despised you were tearing you down, blocking your view from who you truly were and he hated that.
You took a deep breath from inside the cockpit, trying your best to block out the voices bouncing around your head as your engineer went over the programmes you would be running during the session. You just had to do well this weekend, no, not just well… you had to win. Everything was resting on your shoulders, they expected results now you were unmasked.
And you were terrified of what they’d do if you didn't.
***
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Really hope you guys enjoyed this one!! There will be no chapter next weekend because I’m going to Silverstone 🏎️
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balanceoflightanddark · 4 months
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Acknowledgement of Pain
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I think one of the things that I feel Azula in the Spirit Temple gets right is acknowledging one of what I believe to be one of the pillars of her character.
That is, acknowledging what she went through, the pain she endured, was legitimate.
What do I mean by this? Remember that scene where Azula confesses that she feels like she's a monster at the fire pit during "The Beach"?
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The way she brushes off her concerns about what she's doing is wrong? She has problems admitting to what is eating at her and opening her up to others. This is reinforced since...well Zuko isn't exactly the most sympathetic to Azula and her relationship with Mai and Ty Lee is strained. So it's not like she can admit to them either. Growing up under Ozai's influence probably wouldn't help since having concerns or internal struggles would probably be seen as "weak" in his eyes.
And weakness...well we all saw what happened to Zuko.
Privately though, we see another side to her:
Azula: Don't pretend to act proud. I know what you really think of me. You think I'm a monster. ... Azula: Well what choice do I have? Fear is the only reliable way. Even you fear me.
Her strained relationship with Ursa and her belief that she's a monster does eat at her. It's not something she can just brush off so easily. Particularly when she doesn't have anybody to admit it to. Sure, she tries to make excuses like how fear is the only thing she knows how to get people to like her, but that's normal. Again, this is something that's instilled in her for years and it's not something she's good at handling by herself.
On some level, she DOES know she's hurting...but she can't admit it to herself since that would be a betrayal of everything Ozai built her up to be. And since Ozai was the only one who validated stuff like her talent with firebending and being more than just a troubled child, how could she tear that down without tearing herself down?
What I think Azula needs though...what she's craving...is for somebody to validate that yes, she was hurt. That her family and loved ones did hurt her. Yes, it might be misdirected since she lumps the Fire Warriors in there, but it's still valid since she probably wouldn't have a grasp on her feelings. I think what Azula wants is for her pain to be acknowledged and for somebody to say, "that's not right". In the environment she got, she never got the chance. And the spirit didn't help since it just labeled her a monster for rejecting its "redemption".
Hell, even her slaying of the Zuko image demanding she apologize to them doesn't acknowledge that she was hurt too and that neither party can entirely blame the other. It's all take and no give according to the spirit, which rightfully isn't treated as valid by Azula or the narrative. Otherwise, I think she would've faced more repercussions for defying it.
What Azula needs is for her pain to be acknowledged. Not brushed aside or downplayed. I mean to actually be acknowledged and treated with the amount of gravity it deserves.
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