#and i know there are fans out there who were disappointed because of the lack of dennis and/or the rest of the gang BUT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neroushalvaus · 6 months

Text

Okay I am going to use the Somerton situation to talk about something that is very important to me. Following the discussion I have seen former Somerton fans being disappointed in themselves and questioning how they can ever trust another video essayist again. I have also seen some people being smug because to them Somerton was obviously unreliable from the start. As a person who also saw the "red flags" in Somerton, I would like to skip the smugness and talk a bit about what the red flags were to me.

Someone else has probably posted something similar and Hbomberguy's & Todd in the Shadows's videos touched a few of these points, but they didn't focus on them or how to spot these things. I think it is a good thing: I think it would have reinforced the idea that Somerton's fans were to blame for being lied to, and these youtubers didn't want to pin any blame on the fans. Also, some of the things I'm going to talk about were not by any means proof of him being unreliable, they were common tropes I personally associate with people who are bullshitting on internet. Think of it as something like spotting terfs: If you consider following a tumblr user and find out they have at some point posted "males will always be a danger to females no matter what they say", it is very possible that they are not a terf. Maybe they were having a bad day and were just wording their post badly – But you should probably search "trans" from their blog before following them, just to be sure.

So, the tropes in James Somerton's content that I consider red flags:

Lack of sources. This one may seem obvious and Hbomb talked about this in his video, but the lack of sources in his videos was outrageous. Video essays are called essays for a reason, they are not supposed to be just a guy talking about whatever comes to his mind, they should be well researched essays. Obviously video essays should contain one's own thoughts and interpretations and those do not need citations. But James Somerton didn't come out of the womb knowing everything about LGBT history, Disney and film theory, if he actually knew something about all this stuff, he should have learnt it from somewhere. There should be sources he could point to. It is very common that even when a video essayist doesn't tell you where they got all their information, they open their video by saying stuff like "when I prepared for this video I read the book Also sprach Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche and this one thrilling blog post about lesbian cruising in 1960s Sweden". From what I've seen, James does not really do this. From watching his videos you could arrive to the conclusion that James Somerton does not read any books, he just knows everything. There are situations where people don't feel the need to add sources, like when the information is considered common knowledge or when the topic relates heavily to the essayist's actual academic field or profession. This is okay and very understandable, but can sometimes be dangerous, since if the video essayist markets himself as a marketing specialist, people are more likely to take his word for stuff that has to do with marketing, even without sources. It is understandable that in many situations an essayist may think "why should I cite a source? I know this thing!", but doing your research well is partly about checking if the information you are certain of is actually true. Also, as Hbomb pointed out, if you can cite a source, your audience can go learn more about the subject. It's not about anyone doubting you know your stuff, it's about learning. That's why well-respected video essayists usually cite their sources very clearly.

Lack of pictures and screenshots. This is about different kinds of sources again, many things on this list are kind of about sources. An example: When James Somerton made a video about JKR, he mentioned something about Rowling at one time saying that trans students in 30-50Feralhogs (or whatever the wizard school is called) could use magic to present as their gender. If this was any other video essayist, you'd expect a tweet to pop up, or something else confirming Rowling ever said this. Nothing pops up, obviously because Rowling didn't say this, but you can't see anything fishy in that because things rarely pop up in Somerton's videos. He doesn't show you court documents when speaking about a court case, he doesn't show you the comments apparently mad at him for implying the gay anime is gay when he is complaining about people being mad at him. There is a reason people show screenshots and tweets in video essays. When a good video essayist says JK Rowling has tweeted that all people who menstruate should be referred to as women, the video essayist shows the tweet so people know they are not making it up. If there were hoards of annoying bitc-- I mean, angry white women whining about gay sex in HuffPost articles or Somerton's youtube comments, he should have no trouble showing you those. Remember that you should not trust someone just because they show you pictures or screenshots. Pictures can be photoshopped, screenshots can be doctored. Many youtubers are aware that you listen to their videos while cleaning or while walking your dog and don't actually see the screen all the time, and some may take advantage of that by saying something like "and here she threatened to kill me" while showing a text message where someone said "die mad about it". A screenshot alone isn't much but you should demand to see the screenshot.

Passive voice. I am once again bitching about this. Somerton repeatedly says things like "it's been said that" or "it was common knowledge that" or "a legend says that" or "according to most interpretations". He doesn't say who says it, making it very hard to fact check and that seems to be his goal in some cases.

Relying heavily on anecdotes. Writing a dense, analytical video about film theory or history can be exhausting and you may want to pepper in little fun facts. However Somerton seemed to rely on these heavily; he can't just talk about how he has totally bought every lie told by The Pink Swastika, he also needs to tell a cute little anecdote about SS men forcing sexual favours out of men. He can't just tell a story about a court case, he needs to add in ridiculous stuff about the jury booing. This is what I mean by not all the things on this list being necessarily proof of someone being unreliable. Many people use anecdotes and little stories in their storytelling, it makes the videos flow better and it's hard to decide which anecdotes are valid and which are not. A source obviously makes an anecdote a bit more believable, but here are some things that instantly make me fact check an anecdote:

It's a bit too convenient, poetic or ironic. Sometimes real life is weirder than fiction but if an anecdote is "perfect" and has an amazing punchline and you could write twelve poems about it, there is a possibility it was invented by pop science books.

It assumes your political enemies are stupid. Dunking on conservatives, MRAs and transphobes is always fun and after you've seen a lot of this kind of content it's easy to believe anything about these people. You must resist the impulse to believe everything that may make your opponents look stupid.

The person telling the anecdote implies it is an example of a larger, systemic problem. You know what's worse than taking a random happenstance from human history or internet and basing an entire political theory on it? The said random happenstance being made up. You should in general be wary of people telling one story and explaining why it's an example of everything that's wrong in the world. We live in a huge world. You can always find a white woman who loves cute gays but hates the idea of Nick Heartstopper and Charlie Heartstopper getting nasty but that doesn't mean it's an indicator of a larger issue.

Simplifying complex issues. We all know that "only the boring gays survived the AIDS crisis, and that's why gays started to only care about marriage equality and military" is a horrible, insensitive thing to say, but you also have to think about it for like two seconds to realize that it can't be correct. It kind of reminds me of the "roe v wade caused the crime drop of 1990s" claim in Freakonomics. It sounds logical and simple, like a basic math calculation. Societal issues rarely are like that, though. You should never believe anyone who tells you about a huge societal shift and says it happened because of one thing and one thing only.

These were some of the things I noticed in Somerton's content that caused me to distrust him. I hope these were helpful to you and feel free to add your own "red flags" if you feel like it!

#phew. maybe that's enough salt for one day.#james somerton #hbomberguy #todd in the shadows #edit:// embarrassingly many mistakes in the original post. in my defence i have a fever and english isn't my first language. forgive me #edit2:// made the text bigger!

2K notes · View notes

fantasylandloser · 4 days

Text

Winner

Pairing: Coach!Tashi x fem!Reader x Coach!Art

Warnings: 18+, smut, too filled with shame to proofread, dom!tashi, sub!art, sub!reader, mentions of spanking, tashi is so mean in this, art is basically a prop with minimal lines, idk

*******

Training with Tashi Duncan and her husband was an honor. You knew that. You did your very best to remember that; which was hard to do when she had days like this.

“Are you scared of the fucking ball?” You shake your head, but you know better than that at this point.

“Speak up!” You flinch before you can stop yourself.

“No, I'm not scared of the ball.” You say.

“I would hope not- considering how long you’ve been doing this. That’d surely be a disappointment to your little fan club that you love so much. “ Tashi watched the way your eyebrows tinge only for a moment, at the mention of the onlookers who follow your career closely.

It was no secret that you had a great appreciation for the love that they’d shown you, but it was almost like you were completely unaware of how quickly it would be gone if you weren’t up to par at all times.

From afar Art watched the scene play out. You were the player that Tashi was the hardest on. He was sure it was to do with the fact that you were just like her. Well except for the fact that you lacked confidence in your abilities. Another reason she was hard on you. She wouldn’t see your potential wasted. But you worked hard like her, tennis was the love of your life like her.

He watched as Tashi served to you, intense and laser focused. Then you, playing back with the same intensity and just as passionate. It’s almost magical to watch until you hesitate and miss the ball.

Tashi’s on your ass before the ball can even hit the ground. “What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you in it?”

You stammer a reply that Art can’t hear. Probably an apology. His feet are moving closer before he can even think of a reason why.

“No, tell me. What’s got you so off your game lately? Because you’re not going to fucking embarrass me at your next matches because you can’t get your head out your ass.”

“Tash lighten up.” He’s ignored which is to be expected. She stares at you intensely awaiting your answer.

“How am I supposed to lighten up when she’s playing like she never held a racket before, huh?” Again she sees the twitch in your eyebrows. Good, you’re angry.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know-” Tashi holds up her hand. She doesn’t want your apology.

“You know what- if you don’t want to tell me what the problem is,” She grabs your phone which has been continuously lighting up since you started. “I’m sure this will.’

You draw in a breath of air in surprise but you make no move to stop her. Your eyes wide at the invasion, but still ever so respectful even when your privacy is being violated.

Almost immediately her eyebrows sprout up. “I thought we agreed on no boyfriends for this reason?” she shakes her head continuing to scroll through your phone as if it were hers. Art draws closer to her in interest, now intrigued about your phone as well,

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You’re embarrassed, your grip on your racket tightening as you get angry at the way she’s shaming you.

“Obviously.” She mutters. She pauses a moment, both her and Art sharing a look and you know they’ve gotten to the most mortifying part.

“Well if something would shake someone’s confidence it would be that.” You cringe, finally going to take your phone back only to be pushed back by Tashi.

“What did we talk about when it came to how you let people talk to you off the court and how it affects your game on the court?” You barely refrain from rolling your eyes.

“I can’t control what other people say” You can’t stop the edge in your voice.

“But you can control what you say. You didn’t even try to stand up for yourself. This-” She shoves the phone at you with a picture of you half naked with the word unfuckable, in the center of the screen. “Is pathetic. “ You look away when she starts scrolling more like you don’t already know the rest of the verbal assault that had been issued towards you, and then a video of your so-called boyfriend with your next opponent and the lewd graphics that came with it.

“What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?” You don’t mean for your response to be so angry. Or for the hot tears that started burning your eyes to fall. But the frustrations of your day had started to take a toll on you. So when you finally snatch your phone back from Tashi and get ready to storm off you miss the pleased look on her face. Art doesn’t though, he almost shakes his head knowing it was her intention to rile you up in the first place.

She raises an eyebrow at him, and just as she expects him to, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close. The perfect good cop. “It’s okay, kid.” You’re tense in his arms, it reminds him of the times he’s tried to comfort Tashi and she wouldn’t allow it, but after a few moments of him rubbing your back you finally relax. .

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” You start, but Tashi interrupts.

“Apologize for standing up for yourself and I’ll make you run until you pass out.” You wipe your eyes roughly and nod. Stepping away from Art’s hug and trying your best to put your game face back on.

“You got that out of your system now?” You nod again, but after a pointed gaze you speak.

“Yes.”

“Good now let’s talk about how you respond to this kind of bad sportsmanship.”

******

The outfit Tashi has you in, is just barely appropriate, You look focused, despite the whistles you’ve received on your way in. You look a little angry actually.

Art glances at Tashi beside him, who looks all too pleased. “What’d you do?”

“I didn’t have to do anything.” She’s almost bragging. He follows her line of sight to Tashi’s opponent and sees her and your not boyfriend smirking at you.

He wants to ask Tashi if she thinks this will shake your confidence more, but then he looks back at you laser focused as you stretch and he decides not to question it.

The match starts off intense with your serve. Your opponent looks surprised and even though she quickly recovers. Art can tell that this will be a win for you even though he knows Tashi despises that kind of over confident thinking.

As the match continues Tashi is gripping her seat for support. So enthralled in the game and invested in the fearlessness you’re displaying she can barely contain herself.

At one point during a break you’re caught trash talking your opponent. Tashi is sure to get you for it later. Even though the only thing she hears clearly is “enjoy my sloppy seconds” with a saccharine smile on your face. The deduction you receive is definitely worth it.

When you win as expected. Tashi is nearly buzzing and Art can’t hold back his excitement either.

****

“See this is what happens when you’re a winner.” Tashi tells you. She quite literally holding Art’s balls as he fucks into you.

“Winners are fuckable, tell her Art.” He gasps, feeling her squeeze him.

“Fuck-” He breathes. “Did so good.” You spasm around him at the praise, pulling a loud groan from him. “Knew you were gonna win, kid.”

Your whines and whimpers are muffled by Tashi’s hand. “Fuck her faster, she’s gonna come.” Art obeys immediately despite the fact that he is much too close himself. Your eyes roll back at the change of pace.

“There you go.” She squeezes Art’s balls once you start cumming so that he can too. He tries to pull himself out of you before but he can’t and leaves a sticky mess all over your cunt. “Fuck”

Tashi mounts you before you can stop twitching, lining her pussy up with yours, holding your leg over her shoulder. “Now next time I tell you to do something,, you’ll listen to me.” She starts slowly, spreading the mixture of both you and Art’s orgasm on both of you.

“Isn’t that right?” You nodding makes her speed up, giving you that look of disapproval.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, yes, yes I’ll listen to you.”

“Yeah I know you will, because now you know what good girls get.” She continues to grind against you skilfully.

“And next time you don’t listen to me-” You feel your core tense up again. “I will spank you until you cry.” Just like that you’re gone again. The masochistic side of you envisioning the picture that will haunt your fantasies until you get it.

You don’t realize the loud moan you hear is you, until Art is kissing you sloppily to silence your cries. ‘You like that don’t you?” You hear Tashi say. You want to tell her yes but you can’t with Art’s tongue down your throat. You think she knows the answer anyway.

The contrast between the way that Tashi is fucking you so vigorously and the slow kisses Art is giving you puts your head in a spin. On top of that your overstimulated clit is making it hard for you to think at all.

“Coach please-” You beg. “My pussy can’t;” You’re cut off immediately.

“Who knows what's best for you? Me or you?”

“You!” By this time tears are flowing down your face, as you feel another orgasm building all too quickly. Art wipes them, then moves his hands down to pinch your nipples.

“Exactly. Now cum.”

#challengers #tashi duncan #tashi donaldson #art donaldson #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader #tashi x art #tashi x reader #tashi x art x reader #tashi duncan smut #fantasylandloserfic

437 notes · View notes

graysoncritic · 9 days

Text

A (Negative) Analysis of Tom Taylor's Nightwing Run - Introduction

Introduction Who is Dick Grayson? What Went Wrong? Dick's Characterization What Went Wrong? Barbara Gordon What Went Wrong? Bludhaven (Part 1, Part 2) What Went Wrong? Melinda Lin Grayson What Went Wrong? Bea Bennett What Went Wrong? Villains Conclusion Bibliography

I want to start this essay by admitting I’m actually embarrassed by its length. Why did I spend so much time on something I dislike? The truth is, I did not begin this with the intention of creating such an extensive, formal study of the Tom Taylor and Bruno Redondo’s Nightwing run and how it reflects the wider problems with DC’s handling of one of their most iconic characters. I was just trying to organize the thoughts that came up during discussions with other Dick Grayson fans. Before I knew it, I had enough material, enough desire to challenge myself, and enough frustrations to vent to properly create this monstrosity.

I did not begin this Nightwing run determined to hate it. In fact, I was ready to love it. As Taylor promoted the run before the first issue was officially released, I was so excited for it. As I read short interviews where he discussed Heartless, I could not wait to have a new, incredible villain. Foolishly, I believed Taylor when he said he loved Dick Grayson.

Needless to say, I was disappointed. Then frustrated. Then angry. The beginning of any story is a period where writer and reader form an indirect bond, and as the story progresses, so do the highs and the lows of said relationship. As such, a reader’s tolerance for negative factors will either increase or decrease depending on their experience up until that point.

In other words, if the writer fails to earn the reader’s trust and instead takes their attention for granted, even seemingly insignificant details become irritating in a way they would not be if presented in a better story. In such scenarios, the reader can no longer overlook those minor moments because there’s little good to balance them out with. It is a death by a thousand cuts.

In the case of Taylor and Redondo’s run, along with those thousand cuts are also broken bones, internal bleeding, head trauma, and severed limbs. A weak plot, simplistic morality that undermines the story’s stated themes, and, most importantly, a careless disregard for Dick Grayson and everything he stands for utterly destroyed my enjoyment of this series.

It is still too early to tell what sort of impact Taylor’s (as of time of writing, still unfinished) run will have on Dick Grayson’s future portrayals. But just because we cannot predict its long term significance, it does not mean we cannot critique it. Currently, we simply lack the benefit of hindsight.

If this essay were to have a thesis, then it is this: Tom Taylor and Bruno Redondo’s Nightwing not only fails to tell a compelling Nightwing story, but it also exemplifies a cynical, self-serving, and shallow approach to storytelling that prioritizes creating hollow viral moments to boost the creators’ own online popularity over crafting a good story, honoring the character in their care, and respecting his fans – fans who have, historically, often been women, queer folk, and other individuals who felt othered by a cisheteronormative patriarchal society. Taylor and Redondo’s thoughtless and superficial narrative not only undermine the socially progressive ideals they supposedly care for by propagating a cisheteronormative patriarchal worldview, but they also demonstrate a lack of love and understanding for the character in their care. At best, Taylor and Redondo have no interest in getting to know Dick Grayson, nor any respect for their predecessor and their contributions to this character. At worst, they despise Dick so much that they wish to reinvent him into something completely different, tossing away everything that was special to his fans in order to appeal to a readership that never cared about Dick Grayson.

I structured this essay so that, hopefully, each part will build on the ones that came prior. Naturally, because all aspects of a story are interlaced, there will be overlaps between each of the sections. As it may have become obvious from this introduction, I’ll be focusing primarily on the writing of this run. That is not to say that I will not address the art, but writing is the field I know most about, and so it feels only fair to focus my critique on that.

I hope that by the end of this essay, I will have successfully proved that this run’s mishandling of different narrative elements betray a cynical appropriation of progressive ideology and a disregard and disinterest in what makes Dick Grayson so special to so many people. This is an attitude that is present within DC Comics’ current ethos as a whole.

Now, who is this essay for? Honestly, it’s probably not for Tom Taylor fans. I do not believe I’ll be persuading anyone with my writing, and, to be quite honest, neither would I say I wish to do so. Taylor and Redondo’s run has won numerous awards and has many dedicated fans who adore it for what it is. If that is you, then I’m glad. I wish I could be among your numbers. I wish more than anything that I could love this story. But I do not, and I know many others agree with me, and it is to them, I think, that I’m speaking to. As Taylor’s run is praised to heaven and back, I needed a safe space to voice my thoughts. This essay became this safe space. And to others who also feel unseen by the constant praise this run is getting, I think this could speak to you, as well. To be cliche and cringe, this will hopefully let you know that you are not alone.

Finally, I want to acknowledge some people whose thoughts greatly contributed to the creation of this essay. For around three years now I’ve been having wonderful interactions with other Dick Grayson’s fans, and those discussions were not only incredibly fun and cathartic, but also provided great insight into what needed to be included in this essay. My best friend especially gave me a space to vent when I got frustrated, and my original outline borrowed a lot from the messages I sent her, as well as notes I took for our discussions.

I’ll also be directly quoting four different Dick Grayson fans (identified as Dick Grayson Fans A, B, and C in order to allow them to keep their anonymity). Their analyses were so critical to the formation of my thesis and for a lot of what will be addressed in this essay that I actually feel like they deserve co-credit in this essay. Dick Grayson Fan B especially deserves a shoutout in helping me track down a couple of pages used as supporting evidence, as I knew what pages I was looking for but was having a hard time remembering in which issue they were located. I’m quoting them with permission, and crediting their ideas and contributions whenever relevant.

Now, without any further ado, let’s get started.

#nightwing #dick grayson #anti tom taylor

448 notes · View notes

rinbowaman · 5 months

Note

HI, I LOVE UR WRITING SO MUCH!!

can u do something,like a oneshot Or something for heeseung where because of being an idol he can't date but he's also a hormonal man so he gets hot and bothered due to stress and other factors often but now it's gotten to a point where he can't concentrate, he needs pussy. So he tells his manager who pulls him aside one day to ask him what's wrong with him. Now the manager arranges someone (YOU) as a stress reliever for heeseung. U can continue the rest hehe:)

”The Arrangement.”

Warnings: Idol HS and y/n, oral (fem receiving), reader is getting paid for sex, hints of rough smut.

“Heeseung, come on! More energy! Bring out Ethan Lee! Concert is in a few hours, we need everyone on point.”

Heeseung’s hands remained firm on his hips as he rolled his eyes and caught his breath. He was frustrated, angry, and disappointed, mainly because there was a lot of truth in the staff’s words, he wasn’t as lively or energetic…in fact, he was slacking.

“Yeah….got it. Can we do another take?”

The staff and creative director all nod and aired the track as the boys performed their routine. “Yes! Just like that! Keep doing that Heeseung!”

“Nice wink, Jake! Do that more!”

“Sunoo, more smiling!”

“Jungwon, tilt your chin down more on this part.”

“Nice one Niki!”

“Jay, too sexy! Tone it down just a tad.”

“Sunghoon, do that thing that the girls like, you know, lick the fangs. That drives them crazy, and we want them to go ballistic during the concert.”

By the end of the hour, the group had completed a lengthy six hour session, with only ten minutes to spare before hair and makeup. “Changeover!” the staff yells out, already herding the young men backstage.

“Heeseung…you good?”

“Huh? Oh…yeah….”

“You sure? You seem to be out of it, I know it’s hard to get rest when we’re busy on tour…just a few more days and we can finally get a break.” Jake was always understanding, and normally he could guess the issue and provide the motivation as a resolve for everyone, including the eldest. However, this time…he wasn’t guessing correctly.

“Yeah…thanks.” Heeseung merely stated before changing into the first outfit. He wasn’t tired or feeling restless, maybe to an extent, but that really wasn’t the cause of his lack in performance. The man was yearning; hungry for a desire that could not be fulfilled by the pampering treatment of first class air tickets, the rising fame of popularity, or the lavish hotel stay. He needed flesh, and badly.

While it was customary for idol’s to keep things hush-hush as far as their personal lives went, it didn’t mean that they could indulge, so long as it never reached public sight or hearing. What with the frequent dates he’s gone on with many of the most well known female idols, some younger or older, the rigorous tour schedule had kept him from maintaining anything steady, and for so long he had been running dry. He wasn’t necessarily desperate, just needed the warmth and comfort of a suitable woman.

The concert ended, and as always, the group had served well and performed fantastically. The energy was thriving and the atmosphere was filled with screams as each member waved goodbye.

Finally, it was all done.

“Well…we got two more days here until we fly back. We gonna do anything?” Jake inquires openly as he high-fives each member.

“Niki and I were going to go try out this restaurant. They charge $300 per steak.”

“Oh I heard about that place. Don’t they have a year-long waitlist?”

“Manager got us in.”

Heeseung pretended to be asleep, propping his head against the window as his arms remained firmly crossed against his chest. His ears pricked up as he overheard the ongoing conversation inside the van.

After arriving at the hotel, everyone went into their respective rooms. As usual, Heeseung had a room entirely by himself, which he and the members were instructed to tell the fans that it was all due to chance of winning “Rock, Paper, Scissors” when in reality, the eldest of the group receives such privileges as customary within the industry. But for the sake of reflecting the bond and “softness” within their image, the company deemed it better to lie about the room assignments.

He tosses his leather jacket aside as it flops onto the chair backing. Exhaustion took over his entire body as he threw himself on the bed. His eyes slowly open as he reaches for his phone, half of his face still buried into the plush bedding as he explores his pocket and dig it out. There was no way he could spend another night alone, taking care of his needs by hand. WIth as many callouses he had, there was no way he could even make it feel natural or good, there wasn’t enough lotion in the world that could cover up and mend the roughness of his hardworking skin.

“We need to talk.” was all he types in before sending off the message.

A few moments pass before he hears the knocking at his door. “Well that was fast…Mr. Manager.” he softly whispers while lifting his body off the bed.

“Heeseung, what’s up?”

“Need you to come inside for a second.” Heeseung nonchalantly spoke out as he turned and lazily plops himself on the couch. HIs manager followed closely behind and took a seat across, looking at the young man intently before raising the concern yet again. “Everything alright?”

“You really have to ask?” Heeseung peeks from under his elbow as he drapes an arm over his eyes. He really didn’t like to make eye contact when it came to the topic of girls and dating…and this wasn’t going to be any easier. “I need a woman…”

“.....you mean….a date?” his manager tries to confirm, before a snappy Heeseung gently corrects him.

“Not to date….I need a woman…I need skin…flesh…hair….and nails to dig into my skin with a feminine voice to scream out my name.”

“....so you want a prostitute?”

“NOT A PROSTITUTE!” on the verge of losing it, Heeseung sits up rather abruptly as he squares his gaze over to his manager. He really wasn’t trying to be impatient or unpleasant, he was in a vulnerable state of mind. No man should ever go so long without feel the pleasures of someone else’s body, especially someone who is constantly surrounded by all these pretty little fans that were filling his mind with all sorts of sordid thoughts….them with their perfect makeup, the sweet fragrances of their perfume and those damn long and elegant acrylic nails. Day in and day out, he’s surrounded by feminine energy, it all contributed to this sexual demise he was falling into. “I’m just going to put it this way….if you don’t find me someone that can keep their mouth shut, and spend one night with me, then I am going to lose it. I’m on the verge of doing reckless things, and I can’t control it. Just find me someone that isn’t a prude but isn’t desperate.”

The manager knew Heeseung well enough to know when the young man was on the road to destruction, this was one of them. The heat of anger coming from his eyes was enough to tell him what he had to do. The hardest factor about this thing is finding someone suitable, not only in appearance but in their manners; he’d have to be cunning and covert.

Five hours in, he nearly fell to the ground in defeat when suddenly…

“Excuse me, Sir?”

“Hm? Yes?”

“You dropped this back at the last walkway.”

“Oh!...Thank you….”

You turned to continue on with your own business when the gentleman spoke out in haste, you had assumed it was because he wanted to thank you once again for returning his wallet, but the tune of his wording made you realize that that wasn’t the case.

“Young lady, I have a proposition for you…do you have a minute?”

…………………….

A half hour later, after an internal hesitant debate, you caved in at the young man’s offer. You weren’t the type to ever hook up with a random man, even an idol, but the fact that you had been running dry since your last break up over a year ago, and not to mention the exquisite monetary offer that would cover three months of your rent, which would leave you that much stress free from everything else going on. Your final year in college has been more demanding than the previous, so much that you had to quit your part time job, which left you struggling financially. All of this led to the perfect combination of desperation, sexually frustrated, and mentally drained. By the time he mentioned that a non-disclosure agreement would mandate that both you and the idol would refrain from exposing your identities, you accepted.

Expressing that you wanted to get it done and over with, the man took you to the lavish hotel room, the most expensive in your home country. You weren’t entirely sure how you felt, being taken to an extremely fancy hotel room to meet a young and handsome performer and spend one night with him…for sex. Should you bail out now?

“We’re here. Here’s the key card, it’s on the third floor, room number 306.”

You take the key card and paused, thinking for a moment if you should just tell him that the deal was off. But the subtle push over towards the elevator pretty much sealed your night.

You walked through the narrow corridor, staring at the gold engraving of the numbers on the key card. With a deep breath, you gently knocked on the door before inserting the key. “Hello?” you gently speak out as you open the door. The entire room was dimmed with a golden hue with no one in sight; the massive bed topped with goose feather pillows and comforter sets up an enticing welcome as you breach closer to the main layout.

“Well hello.”

You turned in haste upon hearing the deep voice from behind, and saw him. He was leaning back against the wall, behind the door panel side. No wonder you didn’t see him when entering, the wide door swing provided enough cover for him to remain elusive yet still having enough sight to observe how delectable you look. His manager outdid himself.

“Oh…hi…I’m sorry…my name is–”

“Y/N…”

“Y-yeah…”

The manager must have already texted the idol your name. You couldn’t lie, this entire thing was uncomfortable, and you were on the verge of backing out when the man started to walk over, stepping into the warm light. He had a handsome face, and was tall…very tall, but of all things that got to you, was the glaring look he had in his eye. He looked hungry, famished even, with the way he stroked his finger across his lips as he tilted his chin downard, arms loosely crossed as he took each step steadily.

“Um…I’m not sure…if I should–”

“You’re already here…might as well get it going.”

He grabbed onto your shoulders, proceeding to walk forward as he herd’s you backwards until your back meets the opposite wall. He really was hungry, and unfortunately for you, it was contagious. WIth the way his hands roamed all over our body, the way his mouth immediately latched onto your throat, and the way his fingers ripped your blouse apart, sending buttons flying all over, he was a demon tainting every sense of rationality in your mind and you loved it. Still, you were experiencing hesitancy, but the moment he peeled your bra down and began sucking on your nipples, leaving squelching kisses the soft skin on your mounds. “W-wait…”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he drags you down onto the ground, pushing you back to lay you down, leaving you completely vulnerable. He had to be hurting with the way he was feasting on your body, so much that you wondered exactly just how long he had gone without it, and was it longer than you?

“I-I…” was all you could manage to stutter when he started to lift your skirt, ruffling it around your waist as he fingers the damask lining of your thigh high stockings. With a mouthful of your skin, he muffles his burning desire. “Stop trying to push me away…I’ve been hurting for so long.”

You ignored his words as you continued to create some distance. You were torn, he felt so good rubbing your curves but also made you feel scared with how pushy and forceful he was becoming. You nearly screamed out when the sudden warmth of soft, plush lips tenderly kissed your clitoris. Being so caught up with his mannerisms, you hadn’t realized that he dragged and tore your panties off, leaving you bare and exposed. The way his tongue circulated around and pressed in between the folds of your womanhood caused you to drop your hands to your side, no longer putting up any resistance. He kept going, licking and twirling his tongue around, making your head spin vigorously as he committed the only gentle act of the night, which was placing his hands on your inner thighs and pushing them apart as he buried his face deeper into your core.

You moaned out in extreme ecstasy, arching your back and digging your hips downward. You gulped down hard swallows as you try to catch your breath, but the sensation of his nose and mouth inducing the most pleasure you’ve felt in over a year had you inadvertently suppressing screams, choking on your own breaths.

“O-oh!...Oh my God! P-please!” You dug your fingernails into the floorboard, squinting your eyes shut as you gasped out your moans, he went in faster and flickered his tongue deeper while shoving it inside your cavity. Groaning out his pleasures, he growls as he thrusts it in and out. He closes your legs together, pressing them closer to your chest as he wraps his arms around your thighs, still slurping and thrusting his oral muscle. Propping his stature on the caps of his knees, he hugs your thighs close to his chest as he lifts your derriere from off the floor as he brings you closer to the edge. HIs face shoved in against your taint, his slick tongue going in and out at a vigorous momentum, the faint echoes of his cheeks slapping into you as the impact caused your body to shift up while he had you partially levitated did you in, and you screamed out your moans. With your thighs shook, lips quivered, and chest heaving, you laid restlessly as the hot stream of fresh tears escaped from the outer corners of your closed eyes. Your heavy breathing became a rewarding sight as he remained in his kneeling position, unbuckling his belt. A smirk creeps up on his face as he sheds off his attire, chuckling in a demeaning manner as he looks down at you, somewhat pitifully and yet adoringly.

“Oh pretty thing…the night is just getting started. Got a lot of pent up frustration in me, and unfortunately, I’m about to take it out all on you. Now…grab it…and scream out my name.”

……………………..

Days had passed since that night, and you still felt sore in between your legs. It was stingy, yet the pulsating rampage also reminded you of the greatest pleasure you had felt in all your life. Not even your ex-boyfriend, the one who was known to frequent the college campus girls, could even make you feel remotely as good. Must be an idol thing, either that or there must be something in the water in South Korea. Too bad you’ll never see him again.

You were making your way over towards the bus station ahead, when a large crowd blocked your way.

“Oh come on…” you tilted your head left, and right, all to find a small loophole within the bustling groups of young girls screaming their heads off and flashing dozens of pictures. You shuffled your way through, not paying any mind to your surroundings, when all of a sudden a young fellow dressed in black approaches you.

“Miss y/n?”

“Yes?...who are you?”

The man declines to answer, instead, he hands you a folded piece of paper. You unfolded it to read the contents, looking rather confused.

‘Hey pretty thing, you free tonight?’

Looking up, the staff member smiles as he points to the side, indicating for you to look in that direction. Turning your head over shoulder, you were stunned to see the man from the other night, the idol who violated you with his tongue and cock, had you begging for more until the wee hours of the early morning. It was him…

“Oh my God is he looking at me?!”

“No he’s looking at me!”

“Heeseung! Heeseung!”

All the girls waved and jumped, but the direct eye contact and small smirk told you of who he truly was looking at. He sends off a wink which had all the girls pool into an emotional and hormonal mess, leaving only you standing upright, with his eyes still looking directly into your own, he silently mouths out the words to you.

“My…pretty….thing.”

492 notes · View notes

flemingsfreckles · 14 days

Text

Replacement pt. 1

Jessie Fleming x Reader (enemies to lovers)

Synopsis: Jessie transfers to your team in Portland, while everyone else seems to be thrilled about her transfer, you see the girl as a threat to your position and playing time with the team.

Warnings: cursing

WC: 2.4K (this is just set up, the other parts will be longer)

A/N: this is a LONG overdue series I started writing when Jessie first transferred to Portland, I just have had some serious writers block with it. But I’ve finally been able to get some of it down. It is enemies to lovers, so it will be rough and angsty at the start but give it some time :)

Everyone had seen the rumors flying around. You heard the whispers of your teammates at training yesterday afternoon after they had all seen the supposed transfer news. Just like any other fan or team, you all loved the speculation. Your teammates loved it even more when it surrounded bringing a big name on to your team for once instead of Gotham like everyone else. Janine and Christine spent most of their practice trying to dodge questions about their fellow Canadian teammate, not giving away any details of what they did or didn’t know.

You couldn’t lie, you often fed into the spectacle of transfer rumors, chatting with your team about where people might be headed. Something about this transfer rubbed you the wrong way. Maybe it was because you felt threatened. You were a midfielder as well. If you’re being honest with yourself, your first season in the league, fresh out of college, had not gone to plan.

Being drafted second you were expected to perform well, and the transition into the NWSL from the NCAA had been anything but smooth. You had a few minor injuries, a strain here and there, with the addition of a minor concussion. You ended up with an overall disappointing season. It wasn’t due to your lack of effort, you pushed yourself as hard if not harder than most players, it just hadn’t yet paid off.

Jessies arrival meant you’d likely be finding yourself sitting on the bench more and more often. They were bringing in someone who could actually help the team. They were bringing in your replacement in the form of an incredibly skilled and experienced midfielder.

You tried to remember that they were just rumors, she wasn’t confirmed to being transferring. What small hope you had was quickly diminished when you got the team message from staff asking that you all arrive to practice 20 minutes early for a “quick meeting”.

So when you walked into the meeting room, slouching in your seat next to Sam and Janine with a huff, they both turned to look at you. They had both taken you under their wing when you joined the team, being your first friends in Portland. They would come over when you were injured, helping take you to and from training, and helping you get acquainted with the city.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of their bed, damn.” Janine looked at you with wide eyes. It was uncharacteristic behavior being so cranky, even with how poorly your season was last year, you were typically upbeat, trying to make your teammates laugh, keeping practice lighthearted.

“Shut it Beckie.” You muttered in her direction. Sam looked at you, wide eyes before slowly turning to face forward not wanting to get on your bad side. Your coach walking in shortly after, not giving Janine the chance to respond. You’re not sure she would have even had something to say as she just stared at you, mouth open at the fact that you had just talked back to her.

“Alright, quiet down everyone,” your coach held his hands up. “I’m sure everyone has already seen the rumors floating around our club. We hadn’t planned to announce it until she was actually here to introduce herself but as of a couple hours ago, we have officially agreed to terms with and will be welcoming another Canadian,” he shoots a look at Janine and Sinc, “Jessie Fleming will be joining us.” A couple of whoops and hollers scattered across the room. “She’ll be starting with us at practice in two days. I expect, as you all have with our other transfers and signings, that you welcome her to Portland.”

While the rest of the team seemed to be thrilled at the idea of Fleming joining the team, you dodged every conversation you could about her.

Thankfully training was short, with the season just beginning you were completing fitness testing, getting both benchmarks for the season and learning how well everyone had kept up with their fitness during the off season. After warming up, everyone ran the well known and well dreaded “beep test”. It may be dreaded to most, but as a midfielder you had some of the best cardio fitness. It was days like this where your confidence rose, feeling comfortable through the test, nothing to worry about except running.

By the end of the test, you were one of the only players still running, your lungs were burning with each breath you took, the lactic acid building up in your thighs and calves. You finally dropped to your knees, unable to run any further. You found yourself kneeling next to Janine before rolling over to sit. Placing your head between your knees you breathed, listening to your teammates around you also panting, some coughing, some cursing the test for existing. You laid back fully putting up one leg straight in the air. A smile crept across your face, something about the burning of your lungs and your legs nearly cramping felt so good, a small reminder of your hard work.

“You mind helping me stretch?” Reaching out an arm you smack Janine next to you. Easily convinced, she stands up moving over to you placing herself to hold the foot in the air. She gently begins to press it toward your chest, your hamstring straining as she pushes your leg further.

“You’re fucking crazy for smiling after that test.” Janine rolling her eyes at you, a small cough coming out after as she can still feel her lungs burning. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to deal with two of you now.”

“What does that mean? Two of us?” You send her a pointed look before laying back letting your head fall back against the grass. Janine drops your leg, grabbing the other one before repeating the stretching motion.

“It means, I’ll now have to deal with you and Jessie running circles around me and the rest of this team. Literally circles.” She huffs.

“Right.” You felt the smile drop from your face, you had been able to forget about your replacement’s arrival. Janine noticed instantaneous change in your emotions at the mention of Jessie. She made a mental note to check in with you later, not while you were still on the sidelines of the pitch with the entire team.

Once everyone cooled down from the test, you stretched more, before heading into the locker room. You grab a protein bar and electrolytes from the shelf before hopping into the ice bath. Janine follows you, hopping in as well, making a comment about how cold it was as she shivers.

“Hey, I know we usually go for coffee after practice. We can still do that, it's just that I had offered to help Jessie unpack. She got in last night and didn’t really get settled. I’m supposed to meet her at her new place in about an hour, so I won't be able to stay for too long. It’ll have to be more of a grab and go kind of thing.” Janine looks at you, you both standing in the ice cold water, your shirts held up to avoid getting them wet.

Part of you is annoyed at her. You two always grabbed coffee, it was an unspoken activity, occasionally another teammate or two tagging along. You two would get coffee, you’d vent to each other, chat about the tv shows you were watching, Janine would talk about her wedding. It was something Janine started with you when you were new to the team, she was doing it to make you feel comfortable at the start and it quickly developed into a genuine friendship. Now Jessie was going to replace you at work and in Janine’s life too.

“Just go to hers, it's all good. We can skip this week.” You try not to sound upset, already feeling replaced by Jessie’s arrival in the form of losing your coffee “date”.

“Sorry, I would have said something sooner but with the transfer not public yet, I just didn’t want to get her in trouble or anything.” She pauses for a moment. “Actually, why don't you come with me to Jessie’s? I really think you two will get on well, plus it’ll be a good way to introduce you two.”

“Oh, no, I wouldn't want to just show up, I mean I don't know her and unpacking her stuff would be a little personal, it just probably isn't the best time for me to meet her.” Coming up with the best excuse you could come up with without flat out telling Janine that you don't want to meet one of her favorite people. You had heard plenty about Jessie before from Janine, only before it didn’t bother you. Before it was just hearing about one of Janine’s best friends, now it had a different sting when she was brought up. Now she was talking about the girl coming to take your spot.

“Alright, well I’m still grabbing coffee because I thought we’d be going and I promised Jessie I’d bring her one. Come with me at least then we can split?” You know Janine has zero negative intentions, she still was trying to have your usual coffee while also being an incredible friend and going to help Jessie move in.

“Fine, twist my arm.” You add sarcasm into your sentence, it wasn’t too hard to get you to go get a coffee, it was one of your favorite drinks, you spent way to much time and money on it, even having your own espresso machine at home with a bean grinder and all. Janine always joked that you could just run your own coffee shop out of your apartment for extra money.

You get to the coffee shop, when you walk in the barista gives you a wave, you and Janine were frequent visitors, the baristas all knew you and your orders.

“Are we getting the usual ladies?” The girl behind the counter asks, already starting to punch in the order on her screen.

“I am, but can we get them to-go, thank you.” You tell her. She puts in the order for your cold brew with caramel foam.

“I am, but I’m also going to add another drink, can I just get a latte with the lavender syrup please.”

On a normal day, if you weren’t in such an upset and negative mood you would’ve mocking the way Janine says syrup, but you don’t. You also mentally gag at the coffee she ordered for Jessie, lavender tasted like old lady soap. You mentally added it to the list of reasons to avoid the new transfer. It was childish what you were doing but you didn’t care.

You reach to get your card out, Janine beats you to it tapping her card on the register. “Janine, no.” It was your turn to pay, the two of you alternated.

“Please it’s the least I can do given I’m ditching you today.” She shoots you a sympathetic look.

“Alright.” You rolls your eyes at her as you hear your name called from the other end of the counter where your drink was placed.

You grab your drink and turn to walk out of the shop. The shop wasn’t too far from your apartment, a couple of blocks, and you figured you could walk so Janine didn’t have to drop you off at your house before heading to Jessie’s.

“Hey, where are you running off to, I’ll drive you.”

“Oh, no I’m good, I don’t want to make your trip longer.” You also had enough social interaction for today, a short walk alone wouldn’t be the worst thing.

“Well Jessie’s new place is just across the street from yours, so I’ll be going that way anyway.”

Of course Jessie moved in right across the street, out of all the apartment buildings in Portland of course she found herself the closest one, besides literally being in your building.

Janine grabs hers and Jessie’s drinks and you both walk back to her car. The two of you chat again, complaining about the weather and how it couldn’t make up its mind if it’s was winter or spring yet. You both coo over a dog walking down the street and for a second the conversation is light, it feels normal again. Until Janine brings up Jessie again.

“Hey, would you mind if I give Jess your number? I just figured I’d maybe be nice, you guys live across the street from each other, if she needed anything while she’s still moving in, store or food recommendations, you could help.”

You wanted to say no. But the girl was going to end up with your number anyway, you had to be teammates, you’d have to be cordial with her, you couldn’t let your own pride be a problem for the team.

“Yeah, that’s fine I guess.” Your mood deflated, the words coming out of your mouth with a heavy sigh at the end, making it obvious you weren’t thrilled about the suggestion for her to have your number.

“Are you alright? You’ve seemed weird all day. Is it because of Jessie?”

“Why would it be because of her?” You ask, knowing damn well that your behavior was exactly her fault.

“I don’t know, just when she gets brought up, you seem to get annoyed.”

“No I don’t.” Your answer is quick, you get defensive. Unfortunately your defensive behavior likely tells Janine that it is in fact Jessie who’s on your nerves.

“Oh, I know what it is!” She slaps her hand over to your thigh, giving you a small smack.

“What?”

“You’re worried I’m going to start doing things with Jessie instead of you! You’re jealous!” Her tone is playful, she’s teasing you.

“I’m not jealous.” You cross your arms in the passenger seat, pouring like a toddler.

“Good, but if you were, you have no reason to be, yes she’s my friend, but so are you, our coffee dates will still go on, we’ll still hang out, you have nothing to worry about.”

“I wasn’t worried.” You say as Janine pulls up in front of your building. You climb out of the car, thanking her for the ride.

“You’re welcome, I'll always love you, she’ll never come between us!” She yells out the window making a slightly embarrassing scene, bypassers not knowing the joke she’s making. You turn back, shaking your head at her as you laugh.

“Love ya Janine, bye.” You wave at her and enter your building.

You get inside and go about the rest of your day, laundry, cleaning, a rather mundane but somewhat relaxing evening.

It’s when you’re crawling into bed that you receive two messages from an unknown number.

Unknown: Hi, this is Jessie, Janine gave me your number. She said you lived in the area.

Unknown: Sorry, Jessie Fleming, I should’ve clarified. Don’t feel obligated to text me, just Janine insisted I reach out.

You ignore the messages, you have a quick thought of blocking her number, but you know that’s not realistic. You’d have to see her in a few days and be her teammate you can’t block her phone. At least the girl gave you the permission to ignore her.

So that’s what you did. You closed your phone, putting it on silent and snuggled into bed, putting on whatever was showing on National Geographic at this hour and falling asleep shortly after.

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #jessie fleming blurb

212 notes · View notes

ssweetleaf · 4 months

Text

graphic nature.

summary: you’re a sex worker, and ray finds you selling your body for time, something he’s told you he doesn’t want you doing again.

raymond leon x fem!reader

includes: SMUT 18+, shit ending be warned, handcuffs, slapping, ray’s in love but he just can’t show it :((

a/n: so this is kinda weird, i don’t know where this came from, i didn’t have the energy to really finish it, so if it seems rushed, that’s because it is lol, maybe I’ll write a part 2 if i feel like it.

˖ ࣪⭑

With not a lot of time on your hands, there was a big reason why you did what you did. And however frowned upon your job description was, it kept you alive, kept you fed— kept you with a healthy wad of time on your wrist.

Roaming in the wealthy streets of New Greenwich offered you countless men to spend the night with, prostituting yourself in exchange for a hefty fee, a couple weeks, hell, maybe months worth of time clocked onto your watch once you were done.

So, like any other night, you waited, clad in a pretty dress and pantyhose, garters showing, all lacey and cute— in no time a patron drove up beside you, window down and sleeves rolled up, making sure the ticking of his years were on show.

You were about to bend down, lean against the door of his car, give him a few of your usual lines, a teasing smile playing on your lips while he offered to take you back to a hotel suite.

But not today, it seemed.

“Can’t begin to count how many times I’ve found you doin’ this, y/n,” the familiar voice sighed mockingly, and you turned to find him, Ray, the most well-known time keeper of the area, and your most loyal customer. “Just can’t seem to get it in that dumb brain of yours that what you’re doing is illegal.”

You turned back to the man in front of you, only to soon have him realise who had caught you, speeding off down the highway in his stupidly flash car, leaving the timekeeper to chuckle from behind you, the leather of his coat squeaking when he decided to cross his arms.

“What’re you gonna do, Ray?” You rolled your eyes, stepping closer towards him as if trying to intimate him in some way, though your attempts were futile. “You gonna arrest me?”

He smirked, cockily running his tongue along his teeth, smacking his lips before giving you a pout, one to mock you, to make you feel small.

“Y’know, sweetheart, maybe I will.” He hummed, slowly moving in closer, faces merely centimetres apart, mouth so mind-numbingly close to yours, your eyes staring dumbly at his pretty lips, all plump and glistening from running his tongue along—

With a sudden harshness, he spun you around, bending you over and pressing you firmly against the hood of his car. Your cheek smooshed against it while he took both of your wrists and pinned them behind your back, the jingle of handcuffs rang through your ears when he opened them up, slipping them over your wrists before tightening them with a sharp click on each side.

The metal dug into the flesh of your wrists, biting raw rings around them when you tugged and squirmed.

“You-” you started, struggling from under his gaze, one of his palms pressed to the space between your shoulders, keeping you in place. “You can’t do this, Raymond!”

Ray chuckled, pressing closer towards you, leaning his face against your cheek when he hovered over your back.

“I’m a timekeeper, honey,” he cooed mockingly, tip of his tongue grazing the shell of your ear and it caused a shiver to run along the length of your spine. “I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

You whined, huffing out a breath, tugging and tugging at your restraints as if somehow they’d just slip from your wrists with no problem.

“Besides, I thought I told you,” he ran his tongue along his lips, smacking his spit, breath fanning along your neck. “Only I get to touch you, you’re my whore and you work for me, you understand?”

You stayed silent.

He huffed out a breath, disappointed in your lack of participation, spinning you around so your back was against the hood instead, bringing his big palm up to your cheek in a sharp, searing smack, heavy and painful enough to jolt your head to one side.

You whimpered at the sting, feeling your cheek bloom with the welt, the warmth of his handprint still heavy on your skin.

“Let me say this nice and slow for you, sweetheart— I know you’re just too stupid to understand,” he clutched at your throat, fingers closing against the sides of your throat, squeezing almost mind-numbingly. “I said. Do. You. Understand?”

He punctuated his speech with little squeezes to your throat, your breathing laboured from the constriction, wanting so desperately to claw at his wrists, but those stupid handcuffs got in the way.

“Yes,” you choked out, nodding as best as you could, lashes fluttering from the lack of oxygen. “I-I understand, Ray.”

“Good girl,” he pouted, cooing at you mockingly and shaking your head from side to side. “wasn’t so hard was it, dumb girl?”

From the position you were in, you could get a good look at him. You had missed him- missed this, you hadn’t seen him for a while, his mind occupied on chasing down a certain Will Salas, of course he had made you promise to stay loyal, to not seek any men to take you home, to accept any form of touch that wasn’t his, but how were you supposed to agree? Your time was ticking, you couldn’t afford to mope around and wait for him, you had to work, to seek wealthy men and drain them of their time in exchange for sex.

“Missed you,” you spoke, barely above a whisper, eyes flitting over his form watching his jaw clench and nostrils flare. He couldn’t meet your stare.

“M’takin’ you home,” he muttered, pushing you by the shoulders and swinging the passenger door open.

“Will you at least take these cuffs off?” You pouted, turning your head to bat your lashes at him from over your shoulder. His lip quirked up in a smirk, sponging an oddly chaste kiss to your cheek before pressing his mouth against the shell of your ear. Your breath hitched.

“Not a chance.”

Raymond drove you to his apartment, it wasn’t the first time you had seen the place, in fact you had become quite familiar with it— little glimpses of Ray’s life littered the space, his taste somewhat minimalistic, but oddly homely.

He pressed you against his front door once it clicked closed, hands still awkwardly positioned and you struggled in a feeble attempt to break free from your restraint.

Ray’s mouth was on yours in an instant, mostly tongue and teeth, spit trickling down your chin at the rough attack of it all. He cradled your jaw in his hands, suckling your tongue between his lips, groaning at the breathy sighs you emitted.

“All mine,” he murmured against your mouth, pulling away to give your cheek a slap, a silver string of spit still connecting your mouths together. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

Your tongue swiped over your swollen lips, eyes hooded, completely submerged in the will to submit.

“M’yours,” you whimpered. He slapped you once more and your cheek bloomed with heat.

“Again, say it again.”

“M’yours, Ray—” you leaned forward to nudge your nose against his. “all yours.”

He sighed, the sound akin to a whimper when you uttered his name, his lashes fluttered and he pressed his pelvis firmly against your belly.

He was hard. So fucking hard, and your mouth watered, longing for it to be in your mouth, the taste of his pre-cum on your tongue, just lapping and suckling for as long as you could handle.

“Feel what you do to me, baby,” he groaned, grinding against you, fingers tangling in your hair and his lips on your jaw. “S’all your fault.”

You bit at your lip to suppress a needy moan when he shrugged his leather coat from his shoulders, hands back on you again in an instant.

“Thought I told you to wait for me, sweetheart,” he spoke, brows furrowing and you itched to smooth the crease out with the pad of your thumb. “thought I told you to stop whorin’ around.”

Ray’s hand slipped to your throat, fingers and thumb pressing against the sides of your neck, leaving your head all swirly and light.

You frowned, choking out your words between breaths.

“I don’t have the time to wait for you.”

He was selfish, too much of a coward to take care of you and settle down with you instead of fucking promises out of your mouth, having you say you’re his when he wasn’t even yours.

It frustrated you.

“Oh, it’s time you want?” He chuckled dryly, “gee, honey, thought I wasn’t just one of your customers.”

He lifted his sleeve, the seconds on his arm ticking downward— tickticktick, until he reached behind you and pressed his wrist against your own.

The seconds, minutes, hours all went down in a blur, transferring to your time, adding on a hefty amount.

You gasped, trying to push him away as his life span quickly became merely hours.

“Raymond-” you struggled in his grip. “Raymond, stop it!”

He pulled away, his clock down to an hour, that was all. Fifty-nine minutes and fifty-seven seconds, fifty-six, fifty-five…

“See,” he breathed, pushing your hair to tuck behind your ear, “now you have all the time in the world.”

#raymond leon x reader #raymond leon smut #raymond Leon blurb #Raymond Leon imagine #cillian murphy blurb #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader

317 notes · View notes

zutarasbuff · 3 months

Text

I watched the Netflix adaptation of ATLA today and being a hardcore fan of the OG series who knows every nook and cranny of the ATLA world, here’s my unbiased and truly honest review (It contains both the negatives and positives of the series, so dear reader please enter to read at your own risk).

Firstly, let’s talk about the wonderful additions to the already magical world of ATLA.

1. The depth of the genocide

Well, I always wanted to know how the air nomads were suddenly wiped out and how it would have been for them? Why didn’t they resist? I got my answers in the first episode where we explore how the unhinged power of the comet was “actually” used to create a genocide on a massive level. Before that, I had only heard about it in the OG series. Those few scenes were so powerful that they had left me sobbing uncontrollably and Gyatso’s concern regarding Aang had me bawling.

2. Suki’s Characterization

In the OG series, we do find our Suki the fiercest warrior, but here in the live action, she’s an absolute goddess. She is perfect in every sense. She understands the responsibilities she has being a non-bender and is fearless. Her character is what I believe to be was the strongest one of all.

3. Graphics & Music

We never talk about a film by M.Night (that didn’t happen), but this one is really a visual treat for you can readily set yourself up for some mind-blowing bending scenes, plus the fight scenes are quite impressive. It seems that the VFX team had really done their homework this time. Plus, both Momo and Appa are so freaking cute. I loved the fluffy Appa. Good work over there. The revival of the OG theme is also a highlight plus the sun warriors’ chanting in the end is given a new but intriguing twist. The background music especially in scenes where Aang unravels his Avatar powers is mystical in every aspect.

4. Life in motion

I don’t know about others, but I have always been a sucker for animation as well as live-action where characters are operating even in the direst of the circumstances. Life is there and even after they know what happened a hundred years ago, they are still trying to believe and regain their past confidence. This is beautifully portrayed and I was very much impressed by the way people are continuing their day-to-day activities even in the middle of a crisis.

Overall, the series serves the purpose of an adaptation carrying its unique colors (at least better than the previous live-action disaster that didn’t happen).

Now let’s move to the bad side, and when I say it’s honestly what I felt, you need to take my word on it being a hardcore Atla fan.

1. Weak writing & lots of exposition

ATLA remains at a 9.2 IMDB rating even after years because of its writing, strong plot, and very few plot holes. This time, the writers are the real amateur ones. Despite addicting more to the already flourishing universe of ATLA, sadly, they killed the quest of the viewer to find answers. There is too much exposition. It seems that every character just wants to see the end of the war and keeps on revealing things after things. Plus, some of the OG moments that were the soul of the series are not even included. The way Aang finds Momo and then decides to keep it with him as a last remnant of their bygone air nomad civilization is nowhere to be found. In fact, the replacement of Roku with Kyoshi is the biggest disappointment. I love Kyoshi like no one else but that was unnecessary as per the cycle.

2. Bland acting

Even the worst writing shots can be digested only if the acting appears real good. Sadly, this is another issue that I found with the NETFLIXED version. No doubt the characters must have done a lot of hard work for this, yet, they lack the expressive power. Gordon as Aang is super cute but the goofiness is not even there. Katara seems a nerd who doesn’t like to talk much even when it’s necessary and Sokka’s jokes are forced. Meanwhile, Dallas seems to save the day at one point, but again his over-the-top angry young man attitude ruins it for me. Maybe the actors will learn from the criticism in the upcoming season (if Netflix plans to go with it).

3. Major changes

Yes, it’s okay to change the narrative while you are working on an adaptation, but targeting the loyal viewers who are OG fans of ATLA means that you have to be very careful when you are trying to implement your changes in scenes that are the real soul of the OG. You can’t change the Omashu myth as if it’s nothing when we actually see even the cute animated version of the folklore. You cannot portray Roku more as a perpetrator of the genocide and Bumi as the evil king when in truth he’s the mad king who’s known for his genius ways of teaching. I hated that. Plus, reducing Zhao’s authority and taking Uncle Iroh’s sarcastic attitude is just meh. Mai again doesn’t even seem perfect as a cast. Jet is good as far as the aesthetics are concerned but Jet being in Omashu doesn’t even sit right with me. The amalgamation of multiple storylines creates so much confusion and this persists till the end.

4. Bending at convenience

We all know how Katara’s bending progressed throughout the first season and it’s little effort each day. However, in series, one day she’s unable to bend even a droplet of water and the next day she is capable of producing ice crystals. This was unacceptable for me because I was anticipating her learning strategies. Besides, Aang doesn’t learn much water bending throughout this season and in the end, it’s him being the savior in Avatar state. Thoughtless bending sucks despite the great VFX and that’s one thing at which you can’t convince me otherwise.

5. Forced friendships

We all know how it took some time for Sokka to embrace Aang as a chum. However, here Sokka keeps on calling him “the kid” and remains mostly alienated from Aang. Talking to Katara, then she also seems more interested in helping Avatar fulfill his goal than being with a friend. I hated the scene where Aang comes into the Avatar state and instead of hugging him just like in the OG series, Katara runs along Sokka and keeps on calling his name. How is that going to build any organic friendship? I think the first mistake began right from the very moment when Aang was taken back to Wolf Cove on a boat in his unconscious state. Upon opening his eyes, the first person he finds near him is neither Katara nor Sokka but a tribesman who’s playing guessing games. Writers were really high when they wrote that.

6. Lack of the four nations’ biodiversity

Maybe in live action, it’s difficult to create all the marvels of the four nations when we talk about their natural biodiversity. In the OG series, it is indicated by Aang that even after 112 years, he has still not forgotten the animals that define different regions in the four kingdoms and that’s exactly why he wants to finish those “important tasks” alongside saving the world. His important tasks included keeping a check on the natural biodiversity of the lands and exploring whether the Hundred Years’ War had not damaged the majestic animals. Actually, his first dialogue right after regaining consciousness is to go for an otter penguin’s ride with Katara. When I thought about that I felt that somewhere in Aang’s mind he was always connected to nature and that’s why he wanted to regain that connection by being an avatar. Sadly we never see much of the biodiversity but I hoped that maybe they will.

Also, how come Aang had that silent whistle for one hundred years when in the series he only discovers that accidentally? I missed the OG Yip Yip for our Appa. There are lots and lots of problems with the Netflix version, and no I am not being a nitpicker. I appreciate how the current creators credited the original ones, but now I know why Bryan and Michael bade farewell to this project. On a scale of 10, it’s a 4 for me or 4.5 if I am being too generous.

If I am asked to review the live action in a single line, I would only say this:

“The Netflixed ATLA makes you go back to the OG series and you end up watching the animation to give your mind a much-needed respite from a carefully crafted artistic disaster aimed at the sensationalized generation.”

#atla #avatar the last airbender #atla live action #atla netflix #avatar aang #atla katara #avatar zuko #avatar roku #avatar the legend of aang #iroh & zuko #zutara atla #kataang #avatar canon #avatar review

160 notes · View notes

elderflower2000 · 1 year

Text

Neteyam x reader.

I suppose I’ll just have to do myself. This is literally my first time writing fan fiction which I have been an avid reader of myself for years!! Due to the lack of Neteyam fics I’ve decided to take the reins into my own hands!!!

Please go easy on me!!

- - - - - - - -

This is set before the humans come back to Pandora and the Sully family are still living in the forest.

- - - -

Isn’t life strange? How can a simple touch change an entire friendship? Perhaps it was only myself who felt the shift in feelings towards Neteyam but it happened and I have been left with the consequences of a heart aching for a love that may not even be reciprocated.

“Why are you ignoring me?” Neteyam asks, The eldest Sully brother has caught me by the river washing soiled loin clothes. His eyes were filled with a mix of annoyance and anger from my sudden change in disposition towards him.

“I am not ignoring you, I am simply busy.” My tone curt, I truly cannot understand how love and longing has made me sour. I spoke to my sister on how she felt when encountering love, she told me wistful tales of secret moments shared under the stars, endless laughter and the constant preening of hair to look her best. I know I love him but his presence causes me to tense up, like my throat is being held and manipulated to speak in nothing but short, blunt sentences.

“You know what I mean!” He says kneeling down next to me desperately trying to catch my eye line but being sorely disappointed when I stand up from the edge of the small pond twisting the loin cloth to expel any excess water. “You haven’t looked at me in three days, have I done something to upset you? Please tell me so I can make it right.” He practically begged but I ignored Neteyam once more leaving him staring at his reflection in the water.

Neteyam was so angry, why wouldn’t you talk to him?! Ever since you two had be mere toddlers you had both spent your days with one another chasing beetles or watching hunters flying on their Ikran. Your days had been filled with endless laughter, jokes and smiles but now that had all been ripped away from Neteyam for no reason and he wanted answers.

“What is wrong?” Neytiri asks her eldest son who was crouched by the fire. His glare was thoughtful but he also stole the occasional glance at you who sat across from the flames talking with Kiri. Why were you smiling at her but not him? Neteyam wracked his brain for any moment in recent days that might have offended you.

“I am fine, Mother.” Neteyam snapped but Neytiri followed his gaze across to you. She couldn’t help but sigh “You two have been friends for as long as you both could walk. A friendship like that is not easy to break my son.” Neytiri offered her words of comfort to her son but Neteyam sighed running a hand through his hair his gaze returning back to you.

“Why will you not just tell him how you feel? Just from the way he looks at you it is obvious that he feels the same.” Kiri said to you but you just roll your eyes. “It is not that simple Kiri, we have been friends for so long and I am afraid that I could jeopardise years of happy memories because of my feelings.” You express to Kiri who looks like she wants to strangle you.

The night proceeds with you and Neteyam sharing stolen glances from across the fire. It seemed that the hostility was getting to the eldest son as he stood from his crouch and strode over towards you. His steps were long and powerful as navi heads turned from the powerful sight. Neteyam grabbed your hand pulling you up from your place on the floor “What are you doing?” You hiss but he did not stop dragging you away from the large crowd and out into the open air.

“Neteya..” he cuts you off.

“Why are you ignoring me? Do you know how frustrating this is?! To have someone you care about so deeply ignore you for no reason!” His frustration was clear from his tone and face.

“I am not ignoring you!” You snap like a venomous snake.

“Yes you are! You do not greet me with smiles anymore, you do not ask to braid my hair, you do not run to me to tell me about your day. It all stopped and I want to know why!” He takes a step closer, his anger flared inside him, chest heaving as he waited for your response.

“I’m not-“ You start to say but Neteyam stops you by sighing, his hand caressing your cheek, his forehead pressed up against yours.

“Please just tell me what I have done wrong, I will do anything to make amends but just please do not ignore me, my heart cannot take it.” He speaks in soft hushed tones, this moment was just meant for the two of you and perhaps now you could confess.

“Two days ago, in the clearing just beyond the mountains your finger tips brushed my cheek, it was such a simple gesture Neteyam but it changed something within me. It shifted my world, my feelings towards you changed within that moment and I’m afraid that my feelings will ruin our friendship.” You explain and his eyes soften immediately but he remains close to you.

“You have feelings for me?” He asks softly, your bright yellow eyes meet his as you nod slowly. “You do not know how long I have waited for you to say that. I…I thought that I had lost you.” He says the relief on his face stuns you. “My love, I have adored you since we were children, my heart beats only to see your smiling face.”

You cannot believe what you are hearing. Neteyam has always felt the same way, for how many years? It seems that you haven’t been in love alone at all and from that moment you swear to yourself that you shall never let Neteyam forget how much you love him.

#avatar way of water #neteyam #neteyam x reader

2K notes · View notes

mvltisstuff · 1 year

Text

boyfriends - e.b

summary: after dealing with her boyfriend for years, she finally decides to end things with help from buck.

evan buckley x reader

based on the song boyfriends by harry styles :))

a/n: guys i’m on s5 and what the duck is happening. also pretend ravi has been there for longer bc i literally love him

the table was set with thin candles and ceramic plates under a maroon tablecloth. there were light rain noises coming from outside, calming the room with the dim lights. the aroma of homemade pasta and white wine was filling the room. dressed in her neat jean skirt and black top, y/n sat in one of the chairs at the table.

the door unlocked and swung open with an aggressive stomping coming in with a swaying man. “hey, princess! sorry i’m late i was just busy.” slurring his words together, he walks over as she stands up.

“i thought you were at work.” she states, quietly. she’s confused as he should smell like an office, but instead radiates a busy bar and whisky.

“oh, the guys wanted to go out, sorry about dinner,” he says, slumping on the couch.

“i planned this whole thing, cam. you really couldn’t blow them off for one night?”

“it was just dinner! it’s not like we didn’t have food here.”

“yeah, food for us, that i made for you!” she starts getting annoyed but it’s impossible to argue with a drunk person. “it’s fine, i’ll just take it to work.” clearly annoyed, she pulls the plates out and clears them off into tupperware.

“well don’t be pissed at me because i wanted to hang out with the boys,” he says, his words barely making sense. she doesn’t fight back, knowing he won’t even remember this in the morning.

“go to bed, cameron.” y/n says, before entering the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

————————————————————————

dressing for work, y/n wakes up to throw on her uniform. she gathers her things to prepare for another long shift at the 118, and she notices his keys gone, along with his work belongings.

she walks out the door after grabbing the leftovers she had spent hours preparing for someone who spent hours not caring. she walks into the station to be greeted by her real family.

“hey, y/n!” eddie says, organizing one of the trucks with buck.

buck gives her a sweet smile, noticing the abnormal lack of excitement on her face. she walks over and talks to them a bit, drained of energy but still ready to force herself through the day.

as much as she didn’t want to leave her apartment, being at the station felt more of a warm welcome. stepping in through the garage doors, the cold air from her apartment and life outside had evaporated.

the team goes upstairs to the kitchen, as bobby is making coffee for everyone. y/n leaves her extra food on the counter to show people.

“what’s all this from, y/n?” bobby asks. “you didn’t have to bring this.”

“oh, it’s just my l-“ she cuts herself off. “i made this to bring to you guys. i made the pasta myself.”

“it’s delicious!” buck says, a mouthful of pasta and covering his mouth. he tries to lighten her mood after seeing directly through her lies.

he had met cameron before, never really being a fan of him. she’d brought him to one of the gatherings, and he spent the whole time ignoring her existence, and then getting mad at her for being upset. he knew she deserved better, and honestly, he thought, she deserves him. he wanted to help her, but didn’t want to cross the line and help where he wasn’t needed.

“really, buck? couldn’t even heat it up?” hen asks, slightly disappointed but expecting nothing else from him.

they all walk away back to their own chores around the station, as bobby stays in the kitchen. “hey, y/n!” buck runs up behind her.

“yeah? you ok?”

“that’s… kinda my question to you.” he stutters a bit. “it’s just- just wanna make sure everything’s okay, you don’t seem as… bright and bubbly as normal.”

buck and y/n had been friends for a long time, knowing how each other felt all the time. they were able to connect with one another so easily, and buck knew that something was wrong with her. he missed her happy mood, that seemed to have faded away more with every shift.

“oh, i’m fine, buck.” she smiles. “it’s just been a lot of work and sleeping, and repeat.”

she lies to him again about cameron, even though he knows the truth. “y/n/n, come on. don’t lie to me.”

“what?” she peeps out.

“talk to me, please.” he begs her to open up because he just wants to make her feel better. “is it cam?”

“n-no, buck. stop, it’s fine.”

that answer alone told him everything he needed to know. he doesn’t know all the details of their relationship, but it’s almost like cam pretends they aren’t even in one.

y/n doesn’t know why she defends him so much, or why she sticks up with it. she’s hoped things will change for a while, but usually nothing looks up. she loves him, she does. at least she thinks so. she provides so much for both of them, and has put in so much energy to their relationship, only for broken promises in return. she has hope that the time she’s put in was worth it, but every day when she goes home to him it becomes weaker. being a first responder, she wants to help everyone she can. she wants to be able to fix their relationship and she wants to feel valued, for once. people tell her all the time how she saved them, and she so badly wants him to realize that everyone needs to be saved. she’s given him the world, and it’s not long before she takes it all back.

“i know it’s not. i’m here for you, and if he’s not good to you i’m gonna be-“

“buck, just drop it! i’m doing the best i can!” her voice raises in defense, and he pulls her into the locker rooms. “im drained from this relationship, right now and i cannot get into this with you right now. this is my only escape, evan.” her light tears form in her eyes before her breathing becomes sharper. the other workers look at them, but with death stares from hen, chimney, and eddie they look away. they’re listening too, they never really liked him either but figured it was none of their business. it hurts to see their friend in this situation.

“i know, it’s gonna be ok.” he pulls her into a hug in hopes to calm her down. “you didn’t make that for us, didn’t you?”

“no, i made it for him. then he came home completely wasted and told me not to make a big deal out of it. i spent my one day off making this big ass dinner for him, and he couldn’t even take a minute to say thank you.”

“look at me, y/n.” buck pulls away and places his hands on your shoulders. “it is not your fault he’s not good enough for you. he is not. good. enough.”

“no,” she whispers.

“yes,” he says. “you deserve better than what he’s giving you.”

she shakes her head and his heart breaks more. there is no way that he has given her so much shit that she doesn’t believe it’s his own fault. the tears come stronger and run down her damp cheeks. “i can’t just leave him, buck. i cant hurt him like that because some part of me still loves him.”

“i know, but it is for the better.”

“i don’t think i have the power to end things. he wouldn’t listen to me and i can’t bring myself to break his heart.” she cries.

“you need to leave him before he breaks yours any more than it already is.” y/n calls back into his chest, and he sits her down on the benches. his own eyes are becoming glossy at the pain of watching his best friend have to deal with this. he’s had his own fair share of bad relationships, but they never meant anything because he is scared of this happening. it hurts his heart to know that she’s been carrying herself through this relationship as he’s just been more weight on her shoulders.

————————————————————————

the door of the apartment swings open again, as usually. surprisingly, the smell of liquor doesn’t hit y/n’s nose. cameron walks in, placing his bags on the floor by the door. “y/n?”

“y/n? where are you?” he calls out again and she makes her way out of the bedroom. “hey, you. did you make dinner?”

“no.” she says, maintaining eye contact.

“o-oh? we don’t have leftovers?”

“no, cameron. i took them to the station.” she says. “you would remember i told you that, but you were too drunk to remember.”

“what are you talking about, y/n? i went out for drinks, i don’t know why you have to be so bitchy about it.” she’s made her decision to leave, but the names still sting inside.

“well, you don’t have to deal with it anymore.”

“what the hell is that supposed to mean? youre not actually leaving me.” he let’s out a patronizing chuckle at her words, but she stands her ground.

“i am leaving you, cameron. my stuff is in my car, and we are over.” she doesn’t move from her spot on the ground, scared to move her glued feet like she’d fall over.

he laughs again with a critical grin on his face, again. “and where do you think you’ll go? i pay for this apartment, i pay the bills. you have nothing without me. y/n.”

“i work at the best fire station with the highest ranking paramedics and firefighters out there.” she retorts back. “i’ll be just fine without you, hell, i practically have been for the past two years.”

“you’re embarrassing yourself, baby girl.” y/n’s expression scrunches up from the cringe of the pet name that she’s always hated.

“don’t ever call me that again.”

“you have no where to go, you can’t stay at your stupid job forever.” he takes a step closer, and she takes another one back.

“actually, she’s going to stay with me until she can find an apartment.” buck says, coming around the corner, sensing her fear.

cam rubs his face. “y/n, please. we can do this together. you know i love you.” his immediate switches in mood is what she can’t control anymore, and she can no longer deal with it.

“some version of me out there still loves you back, and i feel insane amounts of nothing but pity for her.” y/n spits out at him.

“you’re a fucking psycho,” he says, and buck runs over to create more distance, standing between the two. y/n turns around, running her hands through her hair, trying to disappear.

“we’re leaving, y/n/n.” buck says, gripping your waist. “let’s go.”

“fuck, whatever. get the hell out.” cameron finally moves to the side and y/n and buck walk out of y/n’s old ‘home’ for the last time.

they stand outside in the parking lot, standing side by side as a speechless y/n stares in the distance. “i won’t stay for too long, i’ve found a few nice apartments to look at.”

“don’t worry about anything, y/n. you can stay there forever if it means you’re not there anymore.”

being faced with this much kindness and loving actions overwhelms her, making even more tears that she didn’t know she had pool in her eyes. “don’t cry, please. it’s ok, i’m here.” he pulls her back in and pats the back of her hair. “why don’t you drive over to my place, i’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

they go their separate ways and start driving to his nice apartment and already, it feels more like home than hers ever did.

buck pulls out his phone in the parking lot, in his car. he dials a few numbers and pulls the phone to his ear.

“hey, maddie. you busy tonight?”

————————————————————————

going up the stairs, y/n only had the energy to bring in a single bag to his apartment tonight. they walk side by side to his door together, his arm around her shoulders. buck fumbles with his keys and looks at her red, worn out eyes.

when he unlocks the door, y/n immediately notices all her family around bucks kitchen. she places her eyes on everyone, bobby and athena, hen, ravi, chimney and maddie, even christopher and eddie are there. “hey, y/l/n, welcome home.” athena is the first to say. and for the first time of the night, a fixed smile shines through her.

“hi guys, you all crowded in here?”

“thanks to this one, we wanted to be here for you, y/n.” hen says, pointing to buck.

“you did this?” she asks, sweetly, as if they all had just wrapped her hurt heart with the bandages of their love.

“i guess you could say that.” buck smiles, not wanting to take credit, but happy that he’s finally put some light in her mind.

“y/n, come over here and show us how you made that pasta.” bobby says, calling her over to start making dinner. “maddies going to start a salad.”

“ooh! i can make margaritas!” buck exclaims, excitedly.

“um, i can get behind that!” chim says.

everyone gathered around the kitchen, y/n notices her family all around, taking in the love they’ve given her. they would never have to take the time out of their day to come hang out in bucks tiny apartment if they didn’t truly care about her.

after a while, only buck and her remain in the kitchen. as everyone else squeezes into his living room, some people literally sitting on top of each other.

“hey, i don’t know how to thank you for all of this.”

“you don’t have to thank me for anything. this,” buck says, looking around the room. “is what you’ve deserved. and i will do anything to make sure you know that.”

they keep their eyes together, feeling everything from the day come down on them. both of them have their fears, but they seem to fade away and they forget about everyone else. realizing how much he really cares about her has changed everything for her. she loves buck more than she would ever have been able to love cameron. she reaches up impulsively, grabbing the sides of his face and pulling him in. she gives him a deep kiss and buck swears he’s levitating off the ground. his heart is on fire, waiting for this moment since they met. he didn’t expect anything in return, but he will say that this is a pretty nice reward.

buck leans back and shines a toothy grin at her, and she giggles. “you are very welcome.” he says, barely being able to get words out from his happiness.

they look over after hearing tiny giggles in the room. they both look over simultaneously, seeing christopher with an adorable, shining smile at them. he’s covering his mouth, but failing to conceal himself. “hi, christopher.” buck says.

“hi, buck! hi y/n!” he says, still not being able to wipe the smile away.

back in the living room, with maddies legs draped over him, chimney says to hen with a smirk, “and just like that, i am 20 dollars richer.”

“oh come on, chim, we all knew it was bound to happen.” hen laughs and they welcome y/n and buck back over.

#911 #911onfox #bobby nash #eddie diaz #evan buck buckley x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley fanfic #evan buckley x reader #athena grant #henrietta wilson #maddie buckley #howie han #ravi panikkar

436 notes · View notes

http-tokki · 2 years

Text

Happy birthday, pretty girl

~ bakugou katsuki x fem!reader ~ tags/cw: aged up bakugou, time skip to when everyone is pro heroes, fluff, friends to lovers, deadbeat boyfriend, explicit language, katsuki outdoing ur stupid boyfriend, toxic relationships, y/n is written as honey (that's ur name cause I hate reading y/n) ~ wc: 2.8k

A bouquet.

A $350 bouquet had been the catalyst to the end of your relationship.

The break-up had not come out of the blue. Resentment had been building for months now with endless bickering and sniping, fights over Instagram likes and hidden accounts, your ex’s inability to hold down a stable job for longer than a month and when he was let go from his last job a few months ago, the lack of effort at finding a new job, which in turn left you to pick up the slack with the rent and bills. It hadn’t been like that in the beginning; no failed relationship ever is, but as the months rolled into years, what was once cute ineptitude at basic life skills morphed into weaponised incompetence that had you acting as mother and girlfriend for the twenty-something-year-old man child. If only you could go back in time and warn your former self of the absolute hell waiting for you at the end of the road.

A different form of bitterness seeped into your relationship this past month. A monstrous animosity had taken up residence in the chests of both you and him, causing a fight like no other and all because you were inviting your childhood best friend to your upcoming birthday dinner. Your ex had spotted the name Bakugou Katsuki on the list of guests and scoffed, muttering displeasure under his breath. A few back-and-forth quips rolled into a screaming match that had ended when you laughed out your final killing blow.

“You can either suck it up and come to my, your girlfriend’s, birthday dinner or sit at home and mope around. It’s your choice, but make up your mind before I book so I know if I’m paying for you or not.”

It had been a tad cruel of you to add the last part, but you were growing tired of having to cover his half of the bill at dinner and skip out on outings with friends because he didn’t want to look cheap and have you pay, so your insult was justified its own brutal way.

You sent out the invitation texts the next day to your close friends and their partners. RSVPs flooded your inbox within half an hour. All, except for two who had work engagements overseas, eagerly agreed to the dinner with feverish excitement. All but one. The loser that was your boyfriend sent a thumbs-up reaction to your message in the group chat, which he the. promptly left.

Katsuki, however, had called you the second he saw the short message.

“I’ll be there; I just might be a bit late ’cause I’ve got that TV gig that afternoon.” He sighed into the phone, and you could practically see the scowl forming at the idea of being late to an event. “Actually, let me see if I can move it around.”

“‘Suki, no. Just come afterwards, please. Don’t move anything,” you pleaded, dropping the stack of papers you had organised a few minutes prior. “If you need to miss it, it’s okay.” you added lightly, disappointment evident in your voice despite your best efforts.

“Hey, I said I’d be there, didn’t it? I just might be late,” Bakugou assured you, tone stern to avoid further protests from you. “What’s the name of the booking under anyway?”

“Mine, why?” your brows furrowed in suspicion.

“Just wondering.” He replied with a tone far too casual for him.

Gasping at the sudden realisation, you shouted down the receiver. “Katsuki, if you even think about putting your card down as payment, you’re-“

“Ohh wow, would you look at that, call waiting! I’ll call you later; text me when you’re at work.”

Your boyfriend is the ninth person to arrive at dinner. After kicking him out for the evening before your reservation time, wanting to have time with the girls to relax and debrief the situation of your current partner. The girls were never fans, Mina going as far as to add him to her own personal hit list should he ever commit a minor law infraction, and his continued behaviour just added to their growing disdain. It didn’t help that you were growing to loathe him too. The loser arrived well beyond the appropriate amount of time to be late without an excuse or text and just strolled in without acknowledging the hostess, who smiled and offered to guide him to the table.

Ick.

“Is he wearing-?” Mina whispers, sliding up next to you to stare at your underdressed boyfriend.

“Yep. He’s wearing track pants.” You confirm as you spot the familiar print across the left leg and the slouched cut of the sweat.

“Is he for real?” Jiro’s voice comes for your left, looping her arm through yours.

You frown at the lack of effort and complete disregard for the dress code, but that small part of you screams in vindication at his disinterest. He strolls to you with the confidence garnered only from the current lack of Bakugou and presses his cheek to yours in a polite kiss. He would have gone in for a side hug, but your two friends were unmoving from their positions.

“You’re late.” You mutter, tone entirely indifferent.

“Yeah, well, traffic” is the excuse given, and a poorly made bouquet is shoved at you before he walks away. Jiro reaches out and grabs the flowers with one hand, tossing them at the present table.

The frown you have deepens. Blue chrysanthemums and white roses wrapped in what appears to be yesterday’s newspaper. No card or note, just flowers in colours you despise. He had to be doing this purposefully, giving you another reason to fight with him and pull the plug on this trainwreck. The three of you watch as he makes the rounds, and your frown grows into something that can only be labelled as repulsion. God, you need to end this. Everything about him is giving you the ick. Your mind wonders about the breakdown of your relationship and how to do it, how to get out of tonight a single woman and – Kirishima’s voice disrupts your daydreams.

Eijiro greets Bakugou first. Spotting the blonde as he steps into the restaurant, he calls out to his best friend with a loud Hey! You look up and see your best friend standing in the entryway to the restaurant, strong arms full of the most beautiful bouquet you have ever seen. Pink and purple hydrangeas spill over the lilac wrapping paper, adorned with baby’s breath and pastel tulips, stalks of greenery, and there was even a hint of jasmine bordering the main bulk of the blooms. Your heart squeezes. He had gotten all your favourites despite most of them being out of season and insanely hard to acquire. You hear shuffling from the far end of the table, but pay it no mind as Katsuki saunters towards you. He had followed the theme, dressed in a suit and tie with his hair combed down in a slicked-back style that accentuates the sharp lines that make up his face. The suit was snug but not small, fitting his muscles and broad shoulders just right in a way that made your stomach twist. Heat blooms across your face, and you squeeze the hand that is now in yours.

“Can you fuck him already, please?” Mina teases, squeezing your hand back.

“I’m working on it.” You whisper back as a joke despite the obvious heat filling your body.

The girls laugh beside you. “oh, she’s working on it,” Jiro echoes your confession, snickering as Mina makes a lewd gesture.

“She’s working on what?” Katsuki asks as he reaches the three of you. “Hi.” His greeting is solely to you.

“Hi.” You parrot, feeling the girls leave your side in exchange for Bakugou’s arms.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you right up against his toned body and squeezes. You’re lifted from the floor, hauled into the air and spun as soft laughs leave you, and for a moment, it is only the two of you.

You’re lowered back to the ground, arms still wrapped around each other as he whispers his congratulations. “Happy birthday, pretty girl.” A kiss is pressed to your cheek, and you feel lightheaded.

Cold air fills the space once occupied by him as he pulls back, reaching down to grab the bouquet he had placed on the table and shows you the arrangement.

“Pink and purple hydrangeas,” he announces just loud enough to be heard by your boyfriend sitting a few seats down. “And tickets to the flower festival next month. You can take him, but I’m also free that weekend, and I have a car…” his words trail off at the obvious jab at your car-less partner. “I also put my card down as payment, so go wild, okay?”

“‘Suki.” you reprimand in a breathy giggle, having already been through this with him via text, but you can’t help but swoon at his chivalry.

“It’s your birthday, angel. I can’t have you paying for it.” You blush again at the pet name but frown up at him nonetheless.

Bakugou smiles back and presses another kiss to the top of your head before pulling away to greet everyone else.

“I seriously thought you were about to kiss him just then.” Jiro snickers, reappearing at your side the second you’re alone.

“I seriously did, too.”

It is a small dinner. Only a handful of your close friends and their partners but all the people you know and care for, and they you, so when your cake is brought out, and the songs are sung, you feel loved, and that love is continued through dessert as the game Whispers from Heaven begins.

Jiro and Mina gush about your undivided love and loyalty; Denki smiles and recalls your generosity and patience during the afternoon you had helped him through math homework (and he swore his eternal oath to you from that day on); Kiri tears up at the mention of his emo days and how you had been his friend even when he looked like a My Chemical Romance extra; Momo praising your loving and unjudgmental heart, Sero gifting you the title of World’s Best Mom despite having no actual children but the care and devotion you had shown to your friend group earned you many a mother’s day present and Bakugou toasting your entire being for you had been his friend since middle school and stuck by him through all the happened during UA and the subsequent years, how you had been a rock in his life and every year had been a blessing and he wished for many more to come. Zuku and Ochaco had written their whispers in via text (a mission had taken them away from your dinner ), and their words had been just as sweet.

You were tearing up as everyone gushed about you, wiping at your eyes before they could even fall, but as your boyfriend’s turn came, the air shifted.

“Uhh, she is….” He stammers, nervously looking around the table at your friends, all waiting for his answer.

In theory, he should have the best point. He is your boyfriend, after all, two years shared together, but as he sits there, floundering like a fish with his mouth opening and closing, you feel your patience start to snap. Maybe you were going to break it off tonight. The guilt of leaving him potentially homeless and broke had been keeping you around for months, and you think he knows that, and that’s why he hadn’t gotten a job or made any move to progress his life.

Are you about to be free and single again? Is he about to seal his fate of living out of his parent’s garage? Part of you hopes yes; is desperate to say goodbye to the soul and money-sucking leech that had been attached to you for months now, but part of you feels bad for him.

“Ohh! I’ve got it!” he announces, holding his glass of wine in the air in a toast.

You hold your breath, unaware of what his answer is going to be.

“She has a really good ass. So hot,” he laughs and tips his glass to the sky, “the back shots are fucking amazing.”

Your jaw slackens at this confession.

There is a chorus of gasps and snorts of astonishment as your group comes to terms with what has just been said. Jiro slaps her hand over her mouth as both Momo and Mina’s head whip towards her, eyes wide and brows raised. Denki blushes red but hides it behind his hands; Sero and Kiri are staring at Bakugou, who is glaring at your boyfriend.

“What?” Katsuki asks, tilting his head in confusion.

Your boyfriend bristles. “I was put on the spot.”

There is a beat of silence as everyone comes to terms with what has just been said.

Bakugou shakes his head and gently returns the wine glass to the table, quiet rage simmering in his eyes. His gaze flicks to you in awaiting permission, and when you tilt your head approving of whatever it is he is about to do, he smiles and turns his fangs towards your boyfriend.

“Get up.” the order is soft, as not to make a scene, but there is a promise of violence in his tone.

Your boyfriend makes no move to stand, so Katsuki repeats his order. When there is still no movement from the slug sitting across from him, Bakugou stands with a grace only acquired after years of training to win fights and reclasps the buttons of his jacket, ever the gentleman. Each step towards your boyfriend is fuelled by hate and indignation, and when he finally reaches him, Katsuki grips him by the scruff of the neck, much like a father does to their young son.

“You need to get up and leave before I take you outside.” Katsuki seethes, bending down to your boyfriend’s level.

“You-no-I..” your boyfriend scrambles, face blanching at the pro-hero before him.

“Nuh uh, I don’t want to hear anything from you.” The hand on your boyfriend’s neck tightens. “Get up and go home, pack your shit and leave. I don’t care where you go, but by the time Honey and I get home, you will be gone because I can make people like you disappear in a second, yeah?”

Your boyfriend looks around at the table, hoping to find sympathy from the other heroes, but none comes. “I’m going to tell everyone you’re threatening me; you can’t do this!”

“I’m not doing anything, and everyone here has seen me ask you to leave nicely; I’m even offering to get you an Uber since I know you don’t drive.”

A chorus of acknowledgement of Bakugou’s charity rises from the table. You bite down on your cheeks to stop the smile tugging at your lips as you watch your now ex-boyfriend scramble for his coat, dread dragging down each movement. He turns to you, brows furrowed in fear and confusion, hoping to find comfort in someone he had disrespected time and time again, but instead, you just beam and bid him goodbye.

“Are you really gonna call him an Uber?” Denki pipes up.

Katsuki scoffs. “No, he can walk home.”

“What are ya’ working on?” Katsuki asks from beside you as you sit on the curb outside your apartment building.

You had pulled up ten minutes ago but opted to stay out and talk, enjoying the warm spring breeze.

“Huh?” you turn to face your best friend.

“When I turned up, you and the girls were talking about you workin’ on something. Is there something at work or?”

You blush at the question.

“Ahh, well, I’m-“you grin. “Well, I’m working on you.” Your confession falls from your mouth before your brain can process it.

“Me?” Bakugou’s brows stitch together.

“yeah, I’m working on not killing you for paying for dinner and shit like that.” You rush to lie in order to cover your confession. “You always do that after I-“

Katsuki’s hands grabbing your cheeks stop your rambling, and then his lips are on yours. He cups your face with a gentleness unknown to you, finger hooking under your jaw to tilt your chin up as he kisses you. You melt into his mouth, opening as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. Breathing becomes difficult as your hands grab at his waist, desperate to close the distance between your bodies, but he pulls back and leans his forehead against yours.

“You’re such a bad liar, you know that?” his breathing is ragged.

“I was hoping you didn’t catch on to that, but I’m so glad you did.”

~ a/n: NOT PROOFREAD! goes a long with this. x ( just another lil drabble about how my ex was a piece of shit and for my birthday got me the flowers I hate. but then on valentine’s day my friend got me a bouquet of my favourite flowers so it couldn’t have been that hard, right) updated version 2.0

3K notes · View notes

jaegeraether · 6 months

Text

Sunsets and footballers (Part 25)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (24)

Masterlist (other parts here)

YFN had the worst sleep she’d had since she arrived in England. She woke feeling fatigued and found herself patting around for Lucy which woke her from her half-asleep daze. Of course, she wouldn’t find her. She was 1200km away.

She forced herself to get up, dragging her feet to the bathroom to start her day. She showered miserably, thinking about the airport, the feel of Lucy’s lips, the sudden jolt of her heart when she’d said those three words. She’d frozen, unable to say them back, and Lucy had looked a little disappointed. She had no idea why, but her fight or flight had been triggered by that, and it completely took her by surprise. She looked out through the glass shower pane at Lucy’s little blue toothbrush. She caught herself and shook her head.

You need to grow up, she told herself. YFN had been alone for most of her life, this was pathetic. She was better than this.

Out in the kitchen she found a note from Jordan.

Good morning, roomie!

Breakfast in fridge.

Smash your first meeting today!

Love you! x

Jordan saying that was vastly different to Lucy saying it, perhaps because she was so obsessed with Lucy. She smiled at the note and replied to her as she ate the oats and yoghurt she’d made her.

You’re amazing. Thank you for breakfast, Dory! *big eyes emoji*

Still on to pick up Blu tonight?

She knew she wouldn’t reply at training and went on with her day, packing and preparing for their first meeting. She made sure she looked sharp and was extra early, arriving at the generously sized conference room Joe had booked in a luxurious hotel in town. Her mouth dropped as she’d entered the hotel, and the booked room was beyond anything expected. She set herself up for a long day, making sure to talk to the hotel staff about the food options. Joe had already booked canapes for them, and the hotel had a service to regularly offer them any food or drink they needed throughout the day.

She was pleasantly surprised when all of them arrived early, seemingly keen for their first meeting. There were 9 in total, 4 videographers: Samantha, Ethan, Bridget, Matt, 4 photgraphers: Daniel, Ruby, Olivia, and Emily who was in a relationship with Bridget, and then there was Noel, their IT guy who dabbled with a bit of everything. YFN realised quickly that Noel was incredibly technologically gifted, he just happened to lack a bit of social skill. The sight of his overgrown, wild hair, and his worn down converse shoes added to the stereotype he so perfectly filled.

It was perfectly clear from the start that Joe had hired some gifted people, she’d obviously put the work in to understand who they were. YFN had been worried at first about clashing personalities but it wasn’t an issue at all; they all were very much happy to bring proper media attention to women’s football.

Everything was spoken about from the company credit cards given to the by Joe for the fuel and equipment, to the creation of a schedule for the rest of a season so all games would have at least 1 photographer and 1 videographer there. They each knew their role, and so with most of the logistics covered, they moved onto creating the brand. YFN was keen to hear their ideas as they were all female football fans themselves, so they knew what they wanted to see as fans. They messed around for a bit using the presentation screen they had set up, picking at their canapes and discussing what would be the most appealing shots and photos to get.

“Oh… my god.. is that Lucy Bronze?” Noel commented as YFN had been flicking through images of players on her MacBook for inspiration.

A few chuckles went around the room. The other eight people had already been following YFN on social media for a while, so she had assumed they all knew they were dating.

“They’re dating, Noel. Are you not on Instagram?” Ruby chuckled.

“D…dating Lucy? You?”

YFN knew Noel didn’t mean offense by it, he was just awkward. “I know, right? Lucky me.” She laughed. “Well, hey, if that excites you then have a look at these.”

YFN found a few of the more recent photos she’d taken of the footballer get-together they’d all had the night before. Somehow, Lucy had managed to take a photo on her phone of all of the one hundred and sixty-two players, though she was standing on chair to do it, her grinning face taking up a corner of the photo.

If they weren’t already excited, that certainly did it.

“Holy shit, is that Leah Williamson? Katie McCabe? Jill Roord?!” Matt was gawking.

“So, I’m sure most of you have already seen a few photos from last night on the players accounts, but this is the only photo of the whole group.. we had over a hundred players show interest in us as a company, and the results from last night are the player notes I’ve uploaded to our shared drive.”

They each had an iPad, and their shared drive was going to be used for all of them to have access to all of their work. She told them how interested the players were, how much work Joe had done behind the scenes, and showed them through that part of their shared drive, encouraging them to also collect similar information on the players she hadn’t met, by asking questions she had created.

“So.. all of these players have agreed to work with us?” Sam asked. She was more shy than the rest, but wickedly talented. YFN had seen her previous work.

She nodded. “Yes, so they’ve all agreed to give us priority for photos, videos and interviews. They do understand we’ll be starting slow and rolling into it.”

“And we’ll all be doing interviews?” Ruby asked. She was the more outspoken one of the group. She reminded YFN of Beth Mead a little.

“That’s the aim.” She saw Sam and Noel look a little nervous. “I understand it can be a little intimidating, and we do have our own beliefs we need to adhere to regarding the types of questions we ask, et cetera. Because of this, I’ll start the interviews myself, and one by one, I’ll make sure to give you all some training and do some dual interviews and supervising until you’re all comfortable. The last thing we want is to accidentally ask an offensive question, or ruin a players trust in us. This is what all of the information on each of the players is about. We need to be reading them before every interview so we know what they do and don’t want to talk about, et cetera, okay? Also, it’s vital as a company just starting up that we build their trust and keep it. We’re going to be different than the others, that’s our whole brand image.”

They nodded, a bit more at ease and understanding. They each acknowledged the homework they’d need to do on players, and understood their limitations at the start. Great suggestions were made, for example, Ethan had suggested they wear something that stood out so the players would know they were Lumos. A great suggestion that Joe had already thought of, being the businesswoman, she was. She’d had merchandise made and sent over for them to wear to games that would stand out. Their brand colours were purple and yellow, and their logo was well visible. They had a few items, all modern and comfy, and primarily for the colder temperatures. Shirts, hoodies, beanies and scarves. They could wear whatever they wanted, as long as it stood out for the players to see. They all loved the beanies which were a sexy royal purple with their logo in yellow, offset, and they agreed that while players got used to their colours, they’d prioritise wearing the beanies.

Their schedule set out for the upcoming week were as such:

Aston Villa vs Chelsea (Bescot Stadium, Birmingham): 4th Nov 1230 - All to attend.

Arsenal vs Man City (Meadow Park, London): 5th Nov 1230 – Bridget, Emily and YFN to attend.

Spurs vs Everton (Brisbane Road, London): 5th Nov 1400 – Matt and Ruby to attend. YFN to stop by at the end.

Liverpool vs Leicester (Prenton Park, Liverpool): 5th Nov 1400 – Ethan, Daniel and Noel to attend.

West Ham vs Bristol (Chigwell Stadium, London): 5th Nov 1500 – Sam and Olivia to attend.

Brighton vs Man United (Broadfield Stadium, Crawley): 5th Nov 1845 – Bridget and Emily (relocate from Ars vs Man City), YFN to come later after stopping by the end of the Spurs and Everton game at Brisbane Road.

They were working right up until YFN realised it was late, and they needed time to get home. Only Matt and Ruby lived in Birmingham, Ethan lived in Liverpool, Daniel in Manchester, and the rest were from London. Limiting driving had been her main concern when she’d created their schedules, and also the reason they didn’t need an office just yet.

They all parted ways, agreeing to meet again in that same conference room for rest of the week to go over more prep work for the interviews, editing and games.

“I’m sorry, I was so distracted with everything going on!” YFN admitted as she walked through the front door. Jordan was home from training and making dinner.

“That’s alright, chicken, I thought you had.” Jordan laughed. “Figured you’d want an early dinner. Plus we have three hours of driving to do, so I figured we’d eat early so we can leave early!”

“Good idea! And that smells amazing, pasta?”

“Chicken pesto pasta. Go get dressed, dinner’s almost done. I want us to try and leave by six.”

Two hours later they were in the car and approaching Sheffield. Jordan’s parents were visiting family there for the night, and had brought Blu down for her to pick up. Jordan’s parents were Keith and Kerry, and they were lovely. Although it was a brief introduction, they’d gotten along well. YFN loved meeting parents, it put into perspective for her just what made Jordan the bubbly little affectionate person she was. They said their goodbyes and YFN drove home so Jordan wouldn’t be too tired for training the next day. Blu was sat cuddled on her lap in a blanket, as affectionate as his mum.

“All of these guys are like this.” Jordan said, referring to the breed, Dachshund. “I just love him so much.”

“He’s adorable. I especially love how he looks like he’s walking fast when he’s walking slow.”

“Argh, isn’t he the cutest? Our new little roomie.”

“I’m going to buy him a little hoodie.”

Jordan loved the idea. “How did your goodbye with Lucy go?”

They hadn’t spoken about that on the trip up, they’d spoke about their days, Jordan talking about her training and YFN talking about her plans with the company. Jordan had been so interested in what she had planned, also excited to hear that the first official match to cover was going to be Aston Villa vs Chelsea in Birmingham on Saturday.

She gave out a sigh and explained to Jordan about how emotional the day had been. “I’ve never had to rely so much on one person, or want to shift my whole life around someone before. It’s terrifying to be honest.”

“How was Lucy..?”

“She was okay during the day… a little quiet. She got a bit emotional at the airport. There were quite a few tears.” She admitted.

“Lucy cried?” Jordan seemed surprised. YFN was a little surprised by Jordan’s reaction, until she thought about it. Lucy wasn’t overly emotional with anyone. She didn’t like to be comforted or cry. But with YFN it was different, and she regularly saw that different side of her so often that it was easy to forget. Her vulnerable Lucy. It was a good reminder as to how open she was being with YFN.

“She’s okay.. also there’s something else I need to get off my chest. I’m really ashamed about it.”

Jordan looked at her with kind eyes, encouraging her to go ahead.

“I…. Lucy told me she loved me at the airport.”

“What?! That’s amazing! Oh my god, she’s not usually so open-” She cut herself off as she realised. “You didn’t say it back?”

“I kind of froze? My fight or flight triggered. I didn’t tell her that, I just sort of… cried because I was so happy and sad and overwhelmed and upset that I’d disappointed her by not being able to say it.”

“Do you love her?”

“Yes! Of course. For as long as I’ve known her. She’s it for me, I want her in every way, I just… I have no idea why I reacted like that.”

Jordan thought for a little bit, stroking Blu as she went into that little zone she fell into often. “Do you think… it’s because you’re scared that you’ll lose her?” She asked softly. YFN could tell it was triggering her feelings about Leah and their breakup.

She thought about it. Was she just scared that she’d let herself open up and that Lucy would leave? Like her mum did? Her dad? Tears sprung to her eyes and she had her answer. “Yeah… I think you’re spot on there. I’m so used to being left behind. The thought of letting Lucy in too deep is terrifying because if I lose her… I don’t know what I’d do. She’s just… fucking… wormed her way into my heart and I can’t bear to lose her.”

Jordan nodded, fully understanding and still in her little zone.

“How are you feeling, Dory?” She asked gently.

“I miss her.” Jordan’s voice was quiet and full of emotion. Admitting that was huge.

“I know she was going to ask you to this charity event.. would you like to go in my place?”

She shook her head quickly. “Training has been really good for me lately, it’s clearing my mind a bit. I think I’ll give it a few more days and then if I’m ready, you can tell me how she’s doing at the event. I’m not going to open myself back up if she’s given up.”

“Oh, I think she’s far from given up. The way she talks about you..”

Jordan thought for a bit and then chuckled. “Jeez, what a pair we make, huh?”

It didn’t take long until YFN found herself on day three of thirteen. YFN was tired, with an inability to sleep. She’d managed to get herself into a little space half-way between asleep and awake when her mind was overwhelmed. Lucy. Lucy. Everywhere she looked. Lucy. Social media? Lucy. People talking? Lucy fucking Bronze. She groaned and forced her eyes open, looking at the ceiling. What was happening to her? Why couldn’t she stop her brain? This obsession?

She sighed and let herself fall victim to it instead. She loved her. Lucy had quickly become the most important person in her life, and there was nothing wrong with that, she just wasn’t used to that much emotion. She felt like she’d lost a lot of her control with her mind always on her, and her body physically wanting her at every second. She feared for her work productivity when she would eventually arrive in Spain.

“Just go with it,” she whispered to herself. She took out her phone and looked at the photos Lucy had posted earlier to social media. Oh, she knew what she was doing with those. YFN bit her lip as her mind went on a happy little journey of the times Lucy had touched her. She looked at the photo, one in particular. Those lips had been on her, those muscly thighs had been driving that strap into her, that gorgeous face with her goddamned jaw had been under her when she demanded she sat on her face. And that she had. Gratefully.

“Fuck.” She groaned. How did she have this much hold over her from such a distance? She put the phone on the bed next to her and had a ‘fuck it’ moment. She took hold of one of her nipples, teasing it with flicking and pinching as she slid her other hand underneath the waistband of her underwear. She felt how moist she was there, only getting worse the more she thought about her Lucy. She felt through her own folds, two fingers landing on her clit. Her breathing became ragged as her two fingers worked her clit, dragging more wetness up from her core when she needed it. She’d never particularly been good at masturbating, she always got into her head too much, but it seemed to be a lot easier when Lucy was on her mind. Still, she didn’t know if she could get there. She rubbed and squirmed as her other hand found her other nipple. She went at it for a while, her body slightly sweaty as she chased the feeling Lucy made her feel. Her clit became sensitive, so she moved her fingers down and thrust two inside of herself wondering what she felt like to Lucy. The wet sounds were audible even under the blanket as she fucked herself like that a little, her back arching and breathing getting louder. Lucy. Lucy. Lucy.

She knew she wouldn’t be able to come without her tonight, her mind too frustrated. She groaned and grabbed her phone, slowing her hand to a slow circle over her clit. She was about to embarrass herself out of sexual need.

“Little one?” Lucy answered, obviously just being woken up.

YFN pulled her phone back to look at the time. It was midnight, which meant it was 1am there.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” she cried softly. “Go back to sleep, Luce.”

“No! No.. stay.. I miss your voice.” YFN loved Lucy’s sleepy voice. Less cocky and more… big kid Lucy.

“I miss your voice too,” she admitted.

“Why were you calling, love? Did you need to hear my voice too?”

“Y….yes…” She said but Lucy caught on.

“That was a lie.” She switched to Facetime and YFN squinted at the now brighter screen. Lucy stared at the screen in front of her, half-asleep and so adorable it broke her heart. She reached over and took her glasses off her nightstand and put them on, smiling and settling back down onto the pillow when she could see her better. “God, you’re pretty.”

The sight and sound of Lucy was getting her wetter than she ever thought possible, and her clit pulsed under her slowly moving hand. Her lips trembled and she gave a little gasp, her face reddening slightly.

Lucy’s face dropped and her mouth opened slightly as she moved closer to the camera with darkening eyes. “Little one, are you… touching yourself?”

She pressed her lips together and stopped her hand, trying to tell her face to stop getting redder. Oh, she was embarrassed now.

“Don’t stop.” Lucy pleaded.

“I’m sorry..” she whispered, ignoring Lucy’s plea.

“Don’t stop.” She said harder. YFN’s fingers began moving again. “Good girl. That’s it, keep doing as I tell you.” Lucy was awake now and clearly happy telling her what to do.

“Luce..” she whispered.

“Shhh love. Do as I say. Put the camera down there, I want to hear how wet you are for me.”

YFN trembled but did as she was told, holding the phone down near her pussy. It was too dark for Lucy to see anything, but she could hear her groaning. She left it there for a minute or so before bringing it back up.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy. Fingers inside. Now.”

YFN reacted automatically doing as she was told. She thrust two fingers inside and jerked, gasping.

“That’s right, fuck yourself. Be a good girl. Yes… yes right there, I can see you like that. Fuck yourself there.”

YFN’s eyes were closed as she did what she was told, listening to her girlfriend.

“Put the phone down. Use my pillow so I can see you.”

YFN did just that, leaning it against Lucy’s pillow so she had a decent view of her.

“Ugh, I wish I could taste you right now. You have no idea.”

But she did, because she would have done anything for the opportunity to be in Lucy’s mouth right now.

“That’s my girl, keep going. You were just going to call and let me go back to sleep, huh? You know better than that.” She growled.

“I… I really miss you, Luce,” she whimpered.

“Nothing feels as good as me inside of you, does it?”

She shook her head.

“Out loud.”

“No,” she whispered.

“Keep fucking yourself in and out. Your fingers are mine, that’s me fucking you right now. Keep going, my girl. That’s it, you’re getting closer now.” YFN’s back was starting to arch.

“I want your free hand to pinch your nipples. That’s my girl, you’re so good at doing what you’re told. Fuck, your tits are amazing. I want to be sucking them right now.”

She knew Lucy had a good view from where she’d put the phone, able to see most of her body from the side and especially her back arching off of the bed. She was so frustrated at getting barely anywhere, now just teetering on her edge and unable to make that final push.

“Patience, little one, we’re almost there. Push those blankets off, let me see you.”

YFN pushed the blankets off that were covering the lower half of her body. She pulled her feet up the bed further, widening her knees apart. She was brutally aware that Lucy couldn’t only hear her whimpers and moans now, but the wet sound from her fingers fucking in and out of her also.

“Argh fuck. Fuck. Fuck, you’re so… fuck.”

YFN turned her head to look at Lucy who seemed incredibly frustrated. Her eyes were dark, her lips parted and breathing heavily.

“L…Luce. You can touch yourself too.” She gasped, knowing she must look a state at the moment. Lucy’s attention moved from her fingers to her face as they locked onto each other’s eyes across the screen. Lucy didn’t say anything, but she saw her shift and her eyes flicker into the back of her head for a second as she found herself.

“I’ll slow down and wait for you..” YFN offered and calmed down a little, her fingers coming out of her and moving up to circle her clit slowly. One more push and she could get there.

They fucked themselves across the screen, gasping and saying dirty, sexy things to work each other up. The sound of Lucy’s whimpers had an effect on her that nothing else had, because she was letting herself be so vulnerable.

“Lucy I’m coming… I’m coming..”

“Good girl, you can come.”

She could come? She had permission? Lucy was controlling her orgasms? She certainly was.. that last sentence sent her body shuddering into a wet mess, her back arching and muscles locking as she rode that excitement, listening to Lucy’s voice. She worked herself down quickly, knowing Lucy was also close. She knew she was watching and so she took her dripping fingers out of her body and dragged them up to her nipple closest to the camera, rubbing it between her fingers and biting her lip as she wound herself down.

Lucy groaned at the sight and YFN turned to her with a little dimply smile as she put those two wet fingers in her mouth and sucked on them like she was giving head.

“Argh don’t stop. Please… don’t stop…” Lucy pleaded and YFN started to moan as she sucked and licked the taste of her from her own fingers. “Oh fuuuck. Argh. Ye…yes!” Lucy came suddenly, and it was always something she was obsessed with seeing. YFN watched her eyes squeeze shut and her body lock up in her orgasm. The side view was spectacular, her well earned muscles tight against her skin, and the artery throbbing in her neck. She watched as her girlfriend rode that wave all the way down into a slightly sweaty, but very relaxed mess.

Lucy eventually turned to the camera with a lazy smile. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and adjusted her glasses before she propped her head up on her pillow.

“You’re incredible.”

YFN blushed. “That was… successful.”

“Do you feel better?”

She blew out a heavy breath. “I really needed that, I think. I feel a lot better.”

“Good..” She got a little closer to the camera as she studied her. “Have you been sleeping..?”

She was caught. YFN shook her head. “I can’t seem to sleep without you..”

“Oh, love. I sleep horrible without you too. I can’t wait until you’re here. Ten days.”

“Ten days. We can do that.” She sounded unsure. “I’m sorry for waking you, I genuinely didn’t realise how late it was.”

Lucy scoffed. “You know you can wake me any time, for any reason. I have you on bypass. And that… was a pretty good reason.”

YFN grinned, proud of herself. “Good luck at your game on Sunday...”

“Will you be watching?”

“I’ll be travelling between games, Luce.. but I’ll keep up with the score. Promise.”

#lucy bronze #jordan nobbs #lucy bronze x reader #womens football #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso soccer #engwnt #lionesses #lucy bronze imagine #woso x reader #leah williamson

150 notes · View notes

azsazz · 6 months

Text

Change Your Ticket (Part 2)

Rugby Star!Cassian x Reader (A Modern AU)

Summary: Dating famous rugby star Cassian Bailey is a dream. What's not one is keeping your secret relationship under wraps. Will you and Cassian be able to keep from the limelight or will your relationship crumble because of it?

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,514

[Part 1]

_________________________________________

“Come on Cass, come on Cass,” you mutter to yourself, stealing a chip from Feyre’s plate of nachos. It’s only the plain ones left, hidden under the mass of other chips doused with cheese sauce and meat, but you need something to gnaw on while you watch the Stars game intently.

You’ve already peeled the label off of your beer bottle and drained it, rolled a balled up wrapped from a straw until it was debris in your fingers, but the nervous tension as you watch the game is almost too much.

You hadn’t been able to make it this weekend, wanting to work on some freelance projects you’d lined up and wanted to get ahead on. Cassian had been disappointed when you spoke to him earlier in the week, but you knew you would be too distracted by him if you flew out there and wouldn’t get any work done.

Now, you’re equally distracted, in the full bar filled with loud Stars fans, cheering and chanting and screaming as the evening grows later and the clock timer winds down.

It had been a brutal game thus far, and the Adriata Sealions are one of the Velaris Stars’ biggest rivals. There had been an injury by one of the team’s top players, Azriel Teller, and the grim silence that had taken over the bar at the sight of it had been harrowing.

He’d managed to limp off of the field just fine, Cassian’s body tucked beneath his arm for support. Hopefully it was nothing more than a rolled ankle or a bruised bone and he would be back on the pitch for the next game, but the harsh scowl on his face as he’d been led into the locker room is not one you ever want to be on the other side of.

Rhysand Cunningham, the team’s captain, had done a well enough job of keeping the Stars players in line, forcing the team to channel their protective energy back into the game instead of chest bumping the players on the other team, trying to egg them into a fight.

“Hello?” Feyre draws out, waving a chip in front of your face. You jump in your seat, ripping your gaze from the TV hanging above the bar. You and your friends, Feyre and Mor, are settled at a high-top table against the back wall. The pub is crowded, stuffed full of fans with Stars jerseys and star-shaped crowns on their heads. You’re wearing a t-shirt with Cassian’s number painted across the back, and you catch sight of similar jerseys, blaring the number 15. It makes you bite your lip to hide your smile.

“What?” you ask, realizing they’ve been talking to you the entire time your eyes have been glued to the match. The Sealions are a tough team, having gone undefeated thus far in the season. If the Stars manage to beat them, this will be great news for both the team and the city. “What we’re we talking about?”

“I didn’t know you were so into rugby,” Mor snorts over the rim of her martini glass. No beer for her during these types of things, your friend is too high maintenance to drink the bitter ale you’re downing anxiously.

Cassian’s lack of a lucky charm being at the game with him tonight shows. He’s not aggressive as he normally is, seeming a little distracted. His teammates are getting frustrated, clapping him on the shoulder in what might be support to the crowds viewing, but you can see the tightness of his mouth, the difference in his posture as he settles into the scrum to fight for the ball.

You shrug, sheepishly, motioning to the waitress who passes by your table for another drink. “Sorry, I just got caught up.”

“Caught up in Cassian Bailey, more like,” Feyre teases and you blush like you’ve just spilled your secret to your best friends.

“As if you haven’t been in love with Rhysand Cunningham since he was named captain of the Stars,” you bite back playfully, tossing a half-eaten ship her way. She squeals, swatting it away from her, laughing with you.

It’s true. Feyre had had no interest in Rhysand Cunningham until he was positioned captain of the team. She hadn’t even been that big of a rugby fan at all, not until you all but forced her and Mor to start watching the games after your first date with Cassian. They’d been a little suspicious of why you suddenly became so interested in the Velaris Stars, but you marked it all up to trending photos from the team photoshoot they did with Vogue.

Feyre’s wearing a jersey opposite yours, a purple shirt with a white painted number four on the back with Rhysand’s last name across her shoulders. Your shirt is black with white print and stars on the shoulders.

“What? He’s so hot,” Feyre swoons, pressing the back of her wrist to her forehead as she falls back against the cushy booth seat. The three of you laugh, clinking your glasses together in a toast when the waitress arrives with a new glass of beer for you, removing the old one from your table with a soft smile.

“They’re all so hot,” Mor pouts like she’s suffering anytime she looks at the TV. She sat with her back to the game, so she didn’t have to watch, because watching sports makes her feel grimy, but even she is wearing a purple shirt with a glittery star on the center of the chest. It’s not official Stars merchandise, but you’ll take it nonetheless. “But I prefer my men in suits.”

“Like the owner of the team?” You giggle and Mor gags. She brushes her hair off of her shoulder with a flick, red lipstick sticking to the rim of her martini glass as she plucks the toothpick with the olive out of her glass, throws the liquid back, and stuffs the fruit between her parted lips.

The pub goes wild and you realize you’ve taken your gaze off of the match for too long and the Stars have scored. You bounce up and down in your seat as the replay comes on, showing one of the team’s players tossing the ball backwards to Cassian, who slips through two of the competitors’ bodies for the try. The action puts them in the lead with only five and a half minutes to spare.

“Hell yes, Cassian!” You cheer, high-fiving the older gentleman next to you whose cheeks don two painted violet stars. Even the locals go wild in support of the team while they’re playing in another city; flags wave outside of pubs and homes, jerseys of all kinds as far as the eye can see, even the stadium parking lot is filled with tailgaters and parties, barbeque and brews. “That’s my boy!”

“Your boy?” Mor scrunches her nose and you fight to keep the redness you can feel crawling up your neckline to your cheeks. She sighs, continuing, “Why can’t either of you like actors or something. I feel like we have nothing in common anymore.”

Feyre shakes her head, “Five years of forcing us to watch The Holiday House and we still don’t think Helion Spellcleaver is cuter than Kallias Storm. I can’t believe you still won’t give this up, Mor. It’s almost insane!”

The Stars miss the following conversion and it’s the Sealions turn to attempt to score. There are only a handful of minutes left, and it’s looking pretty good as the timer inches lower and lower to zero. The match cuts to a commercial when the ball gets stuck in a ruck and the teams have to reset.

You’re about to reenter the conversation, but the ad that come on the tv as the announcers cut away is one you know all too well, and have teased Cassian about since you’d first seen it. He stands in his uniform, bottle of beer in his hands. There’s a lime tucked into the neck of the bottle and the volume is too low for you to hear over the sounds of the patrons in the bar, but you know the commercial by heart.

He's saying how he feels like he’s on a beach when he drinks the beer, and as he takes a sip, he appears on a beach right as an opposing player was about to tackle him. He looks around in surprise and his shirt is ripped off by a phantom wind. A dollop of sunscreen falls from the sky and a nearly naked woman walks by, handing him a pair of sunglasses.

You can’t help yourself, pulling your phone from your back pocket to snap a pic of the screen. You then take another one of yourself with your beer and open both in a text and send it to Cassian along with the message: Not fair, why isn’t mine doing that?!

Sending it off whilst biting back a grin, you raise your glass with the rest of the patrons at the bar as the ad comes to a close. Then, with Cassian, everyone in the bar shouts the slogan together. “Drink until the stars go to bed!”

“They’re on two completely different levels,” Mor is arguing when you tune back into the conversation, a cheesy smile on your face. She’s tapping a red painted nail on the tabletop. “Sure, Kallias Storm is hot in a blatant kind of way, but Helion is like a God, or something! Have you seen—”

“Yes, of course we’ve seen it,” you press, cutting her off with a roll of your eyes. Mor has forced you to watch every single one of Helion Spellcleaver’s movies. Sometimes more than once. In fact, there hasn’t been a movie night you remember when he wasn’t in any of the movies she’d picked to watch. “And yes, we think he’s hot, I just personally feel like Cassian Bailey is hotter.”

You can’t wait until he’s back in town next week. You miss him deeply, even though you had the chance to go and see him for his match tonight. Sometimes, the long distance can be hard, when your days are filled with work and his with practice, matches, and press. There are days you aren’t able to speak, texts gone unanswered until the late hours of the night.

It’s then that makes it all worth it, hearing Cassian’s voice before you go to sleep. Without fail, he calls you every night when he’s away, all settled into the hotel and sleep paints his voice groggy. It comforts you more than he knows, hearing his voice. Even if he somehow manages to fall asleep during one of your many unimportant stories about mundane things, the even breaths heard through the phone are a lullaby themselves.

“I still think the hottest man is Rhysand Cunningham, if anyone is keeping score,” Feyre adds with a slight smile.

“Oh, whatever. We can have this conversation for hours,” Mor waves her hand dismissively, then uses it to shoo away the man who’d been walking past your table who had stopped to ogle her. Or maybe he’s trying to work up the courage to talk to the woman, but the look of concentration—or perhaps it’s constipation—on his face. “Go on now, I’m way out of your league buddy, and not at all interested.” Your jaw almost falls to the floor at her abruptness, but the man nods and quickly disappears. Mor turns back to you and Feyre. “Is this game almost over by the way? I’m getting a headache from all of the beer and screaming.”

“You haven’t even had any beer, Mor,” you point out and she cuts you a look.

“I know that, I just hate the smell. How can you both drink that piss?”

You and Feyre share a glance, as if deciding who is going to take this question that she certainly doesn’t want the answer to. Your shoulders fall, and Feyre’s blue eyes brighten. You’ll answer, then.

“I was hoping it’d transport me to a tropical vacation,” you responding longingly, staring into the glass of ale. “Maybe if I drink it until the stars go to bed, it’ll work then?”

Mor shoves out of her seat with a tut. “You’re incorrigible, (Y/N).”

You raise your glass, smirking at your friend. “I aim to please.”

Mor stalks off to find the bathroom while you and Feyre giggle, turning your attention back to the TV. The game is back on and there’s only a minute left now, but the Sealions still hold the ball. Their team is smart and their wall of players is strong. It barely looks like the Stars are affecting them, with the skill in which they pass the ball back to their next in line as they race towards the Stars’ goal line.

“Oh fuck,” Feyre mutters, watching as intently as you.

You’re chewing at your lip, staring at the screen. Most of the conversations happening in the bar have gone quiet, every patron on the edge of their seat as they watch what will be the final play of the game.

You catch sight of Cassian who is trying to steamroll his way to the ball, but the Sealions are all in unison with their plan, and the player tosses the ball to the next, who barges past Rhysand and across the goal line.

“Shit,” you agree, slamming back the last swigs of your drink.

If the Sealions get a conversion, they’ll win the match.

The player who is going to kick the conversion sets up the ball, eyeing the goal. Once it’s perfect, he stands, taking a few steps back, gauging the distance. His fellow teammates watch on, while the Stars ready themselves by the posts, eager for him to miss.

The Sealion’s player charges and kicks the ball with a wicked arc that sadly, soars right through the goal posts.

The entire bar rattles with disappointment, curses and shouts filling the room, along with a simultaneous screech of chairs being shoved away from tables as people rise to pay their tabs and leave. Your heart sinks in disappointment, knowing how upset Cassian will be with this outcome, and even more so when he returns to his empty hotel room.

The camera cuts in close on the Stars players, heads hung and consoling each other as they make their way to congratulate the Sealions. Cassian and Rhysand have their arms draped over each other’s shoulders, talking with their head bowed. You’re positive Azriel Teller is kicking himself for being injured and taken out of the game, too.

“Why the long faces?” Mor asks, plopping her purse on the table before sliding back into her seat. She’s clearly ignored the grumbling and now grumpy Stars’ fans that are starting to close their tabs and wallow on the way back to their homes. A few of the regulars seem to be straying to drown their sorrows in a few more glasses of beer. “Did Helion Spellcleaver walk in here and I missed him?”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

Change Your Ticket Taglist: @justasillylittlegoofyguy @starsinyourseyes @jdeclerc @indiedash

#cassian #cassian x reader #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #cassian au #rugby!cassian au #rugby!cassian #acotar au #change your ticket

310 notes · View notes

marzipanandminutiae · 5 months

Text

Rating the Femme en Noir Crimson Peak collection when I should be going to bed (it's not ALL critical, actually!)

no judgment at all to people who like the collection. nothing can achieve higher than a 7/10 because it's all synthetic. let's get into it

Edith Victorian Gown in Ivory

...yeah! that's basically Edith's nightgown copied exactly, so it's a 7/10 from me

2. Lady Lucille Victorian Dress With Capelet In Teal

What. um. What does this have to do with anything Lucille wears? It's blue velvet and it's a dress; there the similarities end. Why is there a ruffly capelet? That's something Edith wears, not Lucille. Why are there leg-o-mutton sleeves? Why is there no trim whatsoever? (that last is to become a running theme.) 3/10.

3. Allerdale Moth Wallpaper Babydoll Dress in Olive

There's a longer version, and were it a natural fabric, I'd be tempted to buy it and alter it into a blouse and over-skirt or something. This one is honestly pretty cute, though I forget what part of the house this wallpaper appears in. 7/10.

4. Edith Victorian Knit Cardigan in Olive

I get that they want to modernize these things for their target audience, but the original being SO much more fitted and sumptuous-looking just makes this one look sad. It's like Wish.com Edith. 5/10 for at least keeping the little velvet pumpkins.

5. Ghost Shoulder Bag

If this were leather, I would buy it. Not a huge fan of Margaret being the ghost on the front, though- I feel like Enola or Eleanor would be more photogenic. Poor Margaret. 6/10 though they're lucky I don't take points off for calling it "vegan leather" in the description. Be honest- it's plastic.

6. Belladonna Maxi Dress in Crimson Red

This is just an existing product of theirs But In Red. Pretty, but 4/10 for lack of effort.

7. Lady Mourning Victorian Gown in Black

It's the nightgown in black with a sash. Try harder. 3/10 and I'm skipping any color repeats labeled as different dresses from here on out.

8. Mourning Victorian Bonnet in Black

You know what? Yeah. Sure! That's a cute bonnet. Good job. 7/10.

9. Lace Mourning Scarf Veil in Black.

You can get a yard of nylon chantilly lace for less than $28, pretty as this looks. 5/10.

10. Victorian Cycling Pullover Sweater in Black

I mean. I guess. What does this have to do with Crimson Peak, exactly? Why is "Lucille" wearing puffed sleeves when, again, her clothing being tight has so much character logic behind it? It's a mystery. 5/10.

11. Victorian Velvet Bustle Skirt in Black

This didn't photograph well, but it appears to have some cool pleat details. I don't like 19th-century skirts getting shortened, but that's more a matter of personal preference than reaction to movie inspiration or lack thereof. 6/10.

12. Taffeta Edwardian Blouse in Marigold

This comes in multiple colors, but I picked the marigold because it illustrates that Wish.com effect once again.

The OG bodice from the movie that they're clearly trying to evoke. It has DETAIL! it has TRIM! It has LUSH FABRIC! And obviously you can't do that with a mass-produced piece, but ye gods, why would you set yourself up for failure by trying? If they hadn't gone for the look of a specific movie costume, their blouse wouldn't look disappointing by comparison. 5/10

13. Wicker Tilt Hat With Black Veil

Once again I feel they shot themselves in the foot here. It's cute! But it suffers by trying to be something that was better in the movie.

Not great by comparison; it's TOO close without going all the way. 6/10 because it is cute, though.

[skipped a bunch more veils and some lace mitts, which were cute but have nothing to do with How Well Or Poorly The CPeak Inspiration Was Executed In My Opinion]

14. Victorian Hands Belt in Silver

THIS IS NOT THE CRIMSON PEAK HAND BELT. THIS IS NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE THE CRIMSON PEAK HAND BELT. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS?

IT IS THIS 1970S BELT- WHICH, LIKE THE ONE IN THE MOVIE, IS NOT BASED ON ANY VICTORIAN ORIGINAL THAT I'M AWARE OF -THAT HAS BEEN COPIED 50000 TIMES. DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND WAIT FOR CUTTLE AND BONE TO HAVE ANOTHER PREORDER OF ACTUAL CPEAK HAND BELTS. 0/10.

Conclusion: Not all bad, but I feel like I actually would have gone in a more modern direction with the resources and limitations of this collection. You're never going to be as good as the movie costumes at their own game, not with mass-manufactured pieces. So why set yourself up for failure? Bringing the characters, themes, and motifs to a yet-unexplored time and place (with some Victwardian touches, of course!) seems like it would have been a better way to go about this, IMO.

Also stop being allergic to trim when you're taking inspiration from a movie with oodles of passementerie and beadwork and lace all over everything.

5/10 overall.

#long post #fashion #crimson peak #also for the love of everything can we get some natural-fiber clothes that AREN'T beige linen?#Gothic Natural Fiber Attire When!!!

122 notes · View notes

upon-a-starry-night · 6 months

Text

Number Neighbors Pt. 10

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

---

You layed in bed as the sun shone through your curtains, it was well past the time you would usually wake up but who could blame you, weekends were your happy place. Although as of late you’d been getting your source of serotonin from somewhere else. You rolled over and picked up your phone, checking the time. Noon. nice.

You tried not to be disappointed at the lack of notifications on your screen, it’s not like you got messages from anything but take-out places and…

You sighed, Nat hadn’t responded for an entire week now.

You knew she told you about how her job would cause her to go remote but it didn’t make it any easier, and after last weekend… god you needed to get a life. You really couldn’t let your whole life revolve around one woman you met on the internet. So what if she makes you laugh harder than you ever have in your life, and listens better than the copper statues in the park downtown?

You wondered if she even considered you a friend in the same way you did her.

The fact that she hadn’t blocked you yet meant she was at least entertained by your personality but did she feel the same connection you did? The same loneliness when you didn’t text her back for a while (not that it was ever that long). Did you help her unwind after a long day at work as well?

You sighed, pulling the covers over your face and groaning. Maybe you were becoming too dependent on someone who only saw you as entertainment. The one time you decide to try something new ends up with you having a quarter-life crisis, it’s just your luck.

You layed in bed staring at the ceiling until a sudden wave of irritation washed over you, you were not going to waste the rest of the day wallowing in self-pity like this.

You threw the covers off of your body, a newborn determination in your bones.

Today you were going to try something new and it was going to be great. You’d make sure of it.

Your initial intention had been to try a new activity; pottery or rug making or something hands on but when your stomach grumbled you figured a new restaurant was still as adventurous as you were looking for.

You weren’t in a particular mood for anything so you entered “restaurants near me” into your phone and scrolled until you found a cute retro-looking diner that was only a thirty-minute walk from you.

You could use the fresh air and the exercise so you clicked on the directions and placed your headphones into your ears as you began walking down the street.

The diner was as cute as the pictures had shown, if not cuter. The retro 70’s style of the seats and decor was always a style you’d been a fan of. It was the kind of place where a lot of influencers would probably come to take pictures. You wondered why you’d never come across this place only to spot the “Just opened!” sign on the cherry red counter.

As soon as you sit down you’re approached by a man who seems too cute to be a server, he’s dressed in a leather jacket and jeans with a simple white T-shirt underneath. He looks like he’s straight out of Grease and it almost makes you laugh at how much he fits in.

Much to your surprise, the handsome stranger pulls a notebook and pen out of his pocket and smiles at you.

“What can I get for a pretty lady such as yourself?”

The compliment makes you blush and you quickly realize that he fit in so well because he did work here. You figured there would be some sort of uniform or apron the servers would have to wear but apparently, they were all free to come dressed like they just walked out of a teenage vampire TV series.

He tilted his head when you didn’t respond and you watched the way a strand of his hair fell in front of his face and suddenly you felt like a teenage girl all over again.

You quickly cleared your throat and looked back down at the menu “Oh uhm- I will get…”

You looked over the menu and picked out the first thing that sounded appealing, tacking on a milkshake at the end of your order.

Your server wrote everything down with practiced ease and flashed you a charming style before going to put your order in.

Once your food was delivered and you were chowing down you began absentmindedly scrolling on your phone through your Instagram fyp, it was all your typical preferred content and you liked and saved a few posts before your milkshake was brought out by a woman who was dressed in various shades of red white and pink, an apron sat tied around her waist.

So they did have a uniform?

Or was this one of those places that only made women dress up? You smiled at the waitress as she handed you your drink and you thanked her and began scrolling through your coworker's posts.

One of the women you worked with had just gotten engaged. You clicked on her profile and scrolled through the posts of her with all her friends. The sight only reminded you of your lack thereof and your current… predicament with your only friend.

Your mood quickly turned sour once again and you found yourself sadly sipping your milkshake as you stared out of the window, watching couples pass by and squinting your eyes at them in jealousy.

You're sure you probably looked weird and you weren’t all that surprised when an older man approached your booth. You were sure you were about to get kicked out for glaring at potential customers when his lips turned down into a frown and his hands landed on his hips, he was wearing a white apron and a nametag that said “Dale”, and from the looks of it, he was some kind of cook.

“Never in my 30 years running this place have I seen someone look so sad eating my food” Before you had a chance to respond he was sliding into the seat across from you and telling you about how the restaurant came to be.

He told you a lot of stories about his wife and all the ways he tried to win her over before she finally agreed to date him.

You laughed more in the 30 minutes he was talking to you than you had in over a week and you smiled at the warm sensation that filled your stomach. You forgot how good it could feel to interact with other people in person.

After you finished laughing at Dale’s most recent tale you sighed with a smile on your face and made eye contact, hoping to convey your sincerity

“I’m sorry I looked so upset earlier- I swear it wasn’t because the food was bad”

Dale just smiled knowingly and nodded his head at your phone

“Partner troubles?”

You blushed, not able to make eye contact with Dale as thoughts of you and Nat swarmed your head. Briefly, you wondered if she’d like this place, and you quickly shook the idea from your head.

“Not exactly, I’m just a little salty I guess. Everyone my age is getting married and I can’t even keep a boyfriend.” You covered your face in embarrassment, unable to face the complete stranger whom you just spilled your guts to. When you finally gained the courage to remove your hands Dale was looking at you with a mischievous smile.

“What” You tilted your head, a confused smile overtaking your face

“Let me introduce you to my son. He’s around your age, very outgoing, very charming” He winked at you when he said the last trait and you couldn’t help the small chuckle that left you. You were always anxious when it came to new people but you promised yourself you were going to try new things today so you lightly nodded your head and Dale immediately stood up to go fetch his son.

A minute later your original server begins heading your way and you prepare to hand him your card but you’re surprised when he sits down in the spot where Dale sat. Before you can say anything Dale is back with another milkshake telling you it’s on the house and leaving with another quick wink.

It finally registers in your head a second later that the man across from you is Dale's son, hence why he probably didn’t have to wear a uniform. It was nice of him to help out his father.

You stuck your hand out across the table and felt your lips curl into a friendly smile.

“So you’re the infamous son I’ve heard so little about?”

A smirk appeared on your table buddy's face and his warm hand reached across the surface and clasped yours in a firm grip.

“So I am”

The two of you talked for what felt like 4 hours but was only one, During that period you finished your milkshake and learned that Dale’s son’s name was Dolion after his Greek great-grandfather but that he preferred to go by “Leon”, you also learned that Leon and his father had just moved here on account of his mother passing away.

The two of you hit it off more than you thought and you found you shared a lot of similar interests, although he was a lot more outgoing than you were.

Leon was by far one of the most charming men you’d ever met, his father was right, and when you found yourself getting up to leave he grabbed you by the arm and asked you for your number, how could you say no?

The walk home was a happy one and you found yourself stopping to sit at a park with a smile on your face as you thought about your day.

Maybe it would be a good month after all.

Maybe this was the start of something really lovely

Pt.11

No Nat content this chapter sorry guys :( ~ Starry

----------Taglist------

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat

148 notes · View notes

wolfscarr · 20 days

Text

Helluva Broken Narrative and the most useless character..

Disclaimer: Not saying you can't enjoy this show folks. Enjoy it all you want, this is just a rant about the lack of a cohesive narrative!

I really was completely dead on posting, but I just can't get this out of my head.

I feel people should be acknowledging this far more than it has been, this is extremely important. This goes beyond just episode pacing, this goes beyond the characters....this is something that without it? There is no real show, which is....

Helluva Boss has a BROKEN NARRATIVE.

Some fans wanna claim it has this 'complex' writing and I'm sitting here going like "really? Where?"

It doesn't sorry and know why? Because Season 2 of this show, basically broke the narrative that Season 1 was building.

These past posts of mine, will show you why the narrative is broken.

Now can they continue on with the story they are telling? Yes of course they can, but it won't fix the fact that it's not coherent to Season 1, that it's not needed.

Wanna know who the most useless character in the show is now? If you guessed Stolas, you're correct! In the meaning of making Stolas this guy who did nothing wrong and who's sad....they took away his character purpose.

Stolas has ZERO purpose being within the show now, given how things have played out.

But you might say

"Well he's needed to give Blitz the Crystal and end the deal!"

Except....no, he wasn't. They could have just delivered the crystal to I.M.P. They have Blitz’ number, just call him, get a servant to send it etc.

Remembering my posts above, where you can have I.M.P. killing in Hell as a Season 1 thing?

Maybe they're just getting started with their company? So Blitz wants to supplement with killing in Hell by killing those up top so he goes to see about getting an Asmodean Crystal?

See let's backtrack here folks, the episode Oops it was mainly about Blitz and Fizz reconciling right? Which they do at the end of the episode. Now follow this, if we take into account the above, Blitz' dialogue could be.

Blitz: "Fizz look, I know what happened to you was horrible. I don't...expect you to forgive me, but I'm struggling to support myself, my daughter and my employees with my company. I....if you can just think on it, perhaps I could get one of those Asmodean Crystals?"

The scene ends and Fizz goes back to Ozzie, while along the way he's thinking about Blitz' words and how he was saved by him where in the end, Fizz agrees to send Blitz a Crystal because he's earned it from saving his very life.

Or here's another scenario, Blitz has a Crystal from the start(which he took from Verosika when they were dating), but as things get far more hectic up on Earth with more dangers. The Crystal ends up shattering after I.M.P. gets back to Hell after a job, thus Blitz goes to actually confront his past and reconcile with Fizz in order to try and get a new one.

See how easy it is now, to just remove Stolas entirely? They took away a character's purpose of being in the show....that to me, is completely disappointing. Characters, especially those that are suppose to be IMPORTANT, should have a purpose...without that? You may as well just delete them entirely.

Blitz could have had 2 whole Seasons with relating to the past and those that he hurt, that he TRULY hurt(Verosika, Fizz and Barbie) that would actually matter to him as a character. But instead, all these characters are instead shoved to the wayside, for a character who doesn't matter anymore and only actually matters because the writing is FORCING him to matter.

You can write the narrative in so many different ways with what Season 2 gives us, that completely destroys what Season 1 told us. Are we now expected to just....IGNORE AN ENTIRE SEASON?

Even still you DON’T EVEN NEED a Crystal considering I.M.P. was killing in Hell before. Which isn’t HB supposed to expand upon Hell anyway, because Hazbin was taking place in one location? Wasn’t that one of the reasons why it was made? So you make a show that's suppose to explore Hell, yet some of the episodes...don't even take place within Hell?

They can do this whole "sad Stolas is sad and Blitz is hurt and Stolas is going to give him a crystal." Thing all the way to 'try' and fix things, but it'll fix nothing....because the deal between them was retroactively made completely pointless.

The show will continue obviously, but in the back of the minds....it will be a broken narrative and Season 1 is basically buried 6 feet under. As a writer, this really annoys me....because they had how long between Seasons to nail this down? How long have we all waited just in-between episodes? This shouldn't have happened.

Yes, is storytelling hard? Obviously, none of my stories are perfect....but at least the narrative is coherent from beginning to end.

Anyway...I just...had to get this out of my head, because it was really frustrating and I want it to be acknowledged more. The narrative is important folks, if it's broken...that's not a good thing.

I'm still watching this show....if only because I'm knee deep in it now and I still somewhat actually like the characters, but what I don't like...is this broken narrative that is still hanging around with a pointless character that doesn't matter to the show anymore.

Narratives, coherent narratives are important to a story, without it? You don't have characters and you don't have a story.

^ For Part 2.

^ For part 3.

#helluva critique #helluva boss critical #helluva critical #helluva boss criticism #vivziepop critical #Narratives are the MOST IMPORTANT THING!#helluva boss blitz #anti stolas

63 notes · View notes