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dadsbongos · 4 months

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i eat your skin - f.megumi

part of the jjk movie marathon event / movie selection … warnings - cunnilingus (fem reader), title sounds like vore smut but it isn't i promise word count - 3.7 K / rating - R

Megumi braces his hands on his knees, brows pinched tight in preemptive annoyance. Satoru spindles over him, shadowing the younger man almost completely - and it only serves to irritate Megumi that he’d refused to sit down. Furiously determined to forever humiliate his former pupil, Megumi assumes.

Or, he would, if Satoru hadn’t actually agreed to give him advice about a little… situation.

“Alright, now when you see her, look at me- seriously, look at me, Megumi,” Satoru’s face is lethally drawn, usual bright grin tugged low and serious with furrowed brows to match, “Megumi, you cannot let her intimidate you,” Megumi opens his mouth, a vile retort slithers back down his throat when Satoru interrupts, “No, I know you, and you’ll feel all sick,” he mocks a frown, even pretending to wipe tears from his eyes, “You’ll get all nervous. But you cannot let her intimidate you out of it.”

“I’ll hardly die asking her out,” Megumi rolls his eyes, one hand lathering the sweat in his palms against his sweatpants and the other scratching the back of his neck, “Maybe this just isn’t a good idea…”

“And what? Be a miserable wimp the rest of your life?” Satoru folds his arms across his chest, “You’ve liked her since you were first years.”

“And?”

“You’re graduates now!”

“So?”

“‘So,’” Satoru mimics Megumi’s sulking nature, voice deep and neanderthal-ish in nature, “Be greedier, kid!” he flicks the younger man’s forehead, “You’ll die one day. You’ll die. Whether it be on a mission, or in your hospital bed as a diseased old man - you can’t stop it. So, why deprive yourself of something you really want when it all ends the same?”

Megumi can’t exactly pinpoint the reason he even came to his old legal guardian for help over, say, Nanami. He definitely should’ve gone to Nanami, at least he could’ve given Megumi genuine advice that isn’t some children’s show morale of “just tell her how you feel!” - he could’ve done that any day.

When Megumi opens his mouth to protest, Satoru flicks him again.

“You think your special one,” Megumi gags loudly at the title, and Satoru pays it no mind, “is gonna sit around her entire life not having fun and being young? Getting dates?” Satoru nods to himself when Megumi doesn’t reply, “Duh.”

“I want this to be special,” Megumi insists, both hands coming to rest in his lap now, he squeezes them together, lacing his fingers and imagining how yours would look with him instead, “I want- “

He wants and wants and wants and does nothing.

He needs to be someone you simply can’t fathom saying no to, he needs it so bad his stomach churns just like Satoru said it would.

“Alright, I know it can be difficult for you - not being me, after all,” a large hand claps on Megumi’s shoulders and he looks up to see the beaming face attached, “But trust me, kid, this whole idea of a ‘special’ confession is archaic bullshit compared to just being yourself.”

“I thought girls liked special confessions?”

“Sexist: not all girls automatically like the same things,” his former teacher shakes his head, sighing out each disappointed fiber trapped in his soul, “And if she doesn’t accept a plain, Megumi-style date proposition, then her shock and awe over a sick-as-hell graphic novel confession isn’t going to make for a healthy relationship.”

“Hm,” Megumi bites back frustrated curses, taking the words and molding them into a more conventional way that actually makes sense. He nods, “Okay.”

“Exactly,” Satoru stands back, giving Megumi room to rise from his bed, “Oh, but one thing that does help?” the older man grins wickedly, “Eat her out. Direct line to a woman’s heart is through eating her pussy.”

“Shut up,” Megumi huffs, pointing at his wide-open bedroom door, “Shut up. Shut up and get the hell out.”

“Jeez,” Satoru yanks at the already loose collar of his plain black shirt, “I thought we left teen angst behind. Just give it some thought! And also, I wanted to ask- “

Megumi huffs, falling back onto his bed, still pointing at the door.

“If,” and in true fashion, Satoru continues, maybe even a little louder (just to prove a point), “you wanted to watch a movie?”

“No,” Megumi immediately answers.

“C’mon! It’s this or paperwork I have to do.”

Megumi’s eye roll gives Satoru no more room for pleading, and so he stalks back to the living room. Dragging his socked feet over a shaggy black rug towards the door, he takes a final peek over his shoulder at the boy on his bed. Stupid mouth in a stupid pout and stupid nose forcing stupid crocodile sniffles, Satoru acts out a picturesque performance. And if his blindfold were off, Megumi is certain he’d catch big blue eyes framed by batting white lashes.

“No, “ Megumi rolls his eyes again, “‘m going out.”

…

Blushy top with faded blue bell bottoms and a shiny, thin chain that dangles across your chest, Megumi’s eyes flit away from your figure just as quick as they’d found you. Everything’s a little murky under the purple LEDs, but he thinks you’ve worn that before. He thinks you’re somehow more beautiful now. He looks away, snaking through a narrow, picture-framed hallway at Yuuji’s back to this house’s kitchen. There are no light strips strapped across the kitchen walls, simple and plain and unflattering fluorescent bulbs send a gentle cream wash over the walls.

With only a handful of straggling bodies leaning against peeling-edged faux wood cabinets and spotted countertops, there’s more room to breathe than in the hall. Red Solo cups from every teen movie nightmare decorate hands and unnerving corners. Some more anxious part of him wants to reach out and push every precarious ruby further back into secure landing, but he doesn’t.

Two women in complimentary spaghetti strap dresses flounce out of the kitchen with looped arms. They’re sunk into the plum tank until Megumi can’t see them at all anymore.

“Oh, like that!” you muse, nudging your chin towards a pair in matching floral print dresses that reach about mid-thigh, “Exactly my point.”

“That’s hardly 70s influenced,” the man in front of you - Jirou? Junto? Jouji? you don’t really recall - shakes his head, “Just flowers.”

“No, no, look at the trim,” you’re trying your hardest not to point but this guy just cannot pinpoint the details in your mind to save his life, “It’s flowy and mesh. Sort of. That’s a little more flower child era, right?”

“I guess, if your only experience in that fashion was movies,” you huff at the response and he laughs in the face of such exasperation.

“Whatever! You’re so difficult.”

“Hobby,” it’s so plain out of his lips. Like you should somehow be expecting that snark.

“Oh my God…” you can hardly believe someone could be so obtuse. A contrarian just for the fun of it, “And are you normally invited to parties for that?”

“Oh, no,” his tone, again, betrays some delusion that you should already know the answer, but this time you do already know. Who invites a conversation killer to an event? “I got dragged here by a friend. Don’t even know who the host is.”

You snicker, one hand smothering the sight of your mouth, “That makes more sense.”

Megumi can see the hand that binds, you usually don’t string it up around those you’re close with. Like Yuuji and Nobara and Maki and Miwa from Kyoto and your friends that live closer to the coast and the friends that don’t and your parents and him. So you’d think he’d know better than to let a big, gangly, clawed, green beast sprout and grow and suck away at his gut.

Even though that hand is a sign of some rising desire to be out of that conversation, he still hates being across the room when it happens. Because that’s still some semblance of a shining star behind the flesh. Some laugh or smile he’s not next to.

And it isn’t like he hates when you’re out with others. What he hates is being in the same room with someone potentially more captivating than he is.

He hopes you like him best because he’s the most familiar and drawing, and it’s disturbing when someone else might be more homely and more charming and more absorbing. He hates the curdling illness of jealousy and he hates to be this way when you two aren’t even together, but most of all he hates that maybe you’ll prefer someone else simply because they’re better at his craft than he is.

So Megumi watches and rots quietly with thick, spindling vines spreading and tangling him to the kitchen doorway as you talk to a guy whose name he doesn’t know. It’s pathetic and waning most unbearably.

“Stop staring, it’s weird,” Yuuji chastises, chunking part of his weight against Megumi’s side, an elbow shelved on Megumi’s shoulder, “Just go up and say something, if you wanna talk to her.”

“Yeah, it’s that easy,” Megumi jerks through the vines and into the hungry waters of a living room party with a snapping, starved crowd before finding the optimal spot: a plain wall with no posters or pictures to snag and smack down.

Yuuji trails after, his white shirt reflecting a blinding shade of lavender from beneath his puffer jacket. Much easier to track down than Megumi’s gloomy, funeral-grade attire. Yuuji capitalizes on the empty space so ugly at Megumi’s side, staking claim to the wall with a huff, “It is, by the way. You two are friends. Go tell her you’re here.”

“But then I’d have to,” Megumi’s mouth zips shut, head tilting as he snakes a hand through some imaginary crowd.

“I guess,” Yuuji wants to shake Megumi at times like this. He wants to shake you too, sometimes. But mostly he imagines squeezing Megumi’s shoulders and smacking him around, but he never does.

Maybe just the first part.

All out of love.

“Okay,” so Yuuji pivots, swerving in front of his best friend and taking one shoulder in each hand, “You need to do something or you’re going to sit here and be pouty, dude.”

“I’m not pouty.”

“Biggest lie in Tokyo, brother,” Yuuji purses his lips, eyes flitting to where you are, “I’ll get her over here if you really don’t want to.”

“Hm?” Megumi’s brows furrow, neck craning closer as if he could somehow mishear the man.

“Just pretend to be busy or some shit and I’ll brave the crowd,” Yuuji goes to walk away, suddenly pausing and placing a hand over Megumi’s heart, “And if I don’t return, sing songs for me by a nice lake every anniversary.”

“Whatever,” Megumi knocks away the hand but is already pulling out his phone to perform the charade. His eyes lock onto the screen and he soldiers on to not rip them away and give slight that this was planned.

…

“Do you think I could maybe get your number?”

“Oh!” no, God no - you wish you were better at saying that, “Uh,” it’s not even as if you dislike this guy, you just don’t think any conversation with him could amount past what it has.

Wow, you’re a pain in the ass! Yeah but it’s funny, right? Not if it’s on purpose. Especially if it’s on purpose! Sure, if that’s what you think. You do think it’s funny, right? Sure. Come on, it is! Sure.

And dry replies make you want to claw your eyes out more when you have to give them than when you receive them.

So when the bony fingers of Yuuji creep upon your side, it’s like the first drink of water after sifting through thick bowls and hills of sandy desert. He leans his head down into your peripheral, grinning brightly, “Miss me?”

“Yuuji!” you cheer, turning to… Junsei? and laying a flat palm under Yuuji’s chin, “This is my buddy, who I didn’t know was coming.”

“I texted you,” he pinches your side, “Fushiguro’s busy, so I’m fetching you for the night,” and you wonder if he might feel the stiffness of your muscles and the rigid air, “Sorry, man, but she’s got serious business tonight!”

“Oh,” Junzo! Junzo’s forehead crinkles, nose wrinkling at the bluntness of this cocky new stranger, “Uh…”

“See you around,” maybe it’s a lie, maybe it isn’t. You wave and let Yuuji keep you pressed to his side. You wait until you’re certain the surrounding affairs of other people drown whatever you could say to Yuuji, “Thank you for that. He was asking for my number and I just didn’t know what to say…”

“No,’” he shrugs.

“Oh, like you could’ve done that.”

“I could’ve!”

But Yuuji can do anything, so that isn’t fair.

“‘gumi!” you cheer upon getting close to the boy, arms splaying wide before wringing yourself around his neck, “I was worried you weren’t coming!”

He hesitates before having the misfortune to hear Satoru’s words once again. Be greedier. Be greedier. So he gently settles both hands on your back, pushing you chest-to-chest, “Yeah, well, Itadori wouldn’t let me stay in.”

“Poor baby,” you step back, and Megumi takes notice in how you maintain your hands’ position over his shoulders, nails picking at fluff on his shirt.

Megumi, regrettably, can still hear Satoru in the back of his head. Greedier, greedier, greedier. It chokes him up, the idea of selfishly taking you for himself. But what really grips him is the terrible way your gaze flits from his face to other men - unintentionally, he’s sure. But it drives him wild all the same.

“I hate big parties,” Megumi boldly cradles the bend of your waist with his hand, fingers splaying wide over the curve. He tugs you closer, thighs nearly brushing, “Crowd’s a pain in the ass.”

“Ah, no, c’mon, what’s that Great Gatsby quote?” who’s to say, he hasn't read that book, “‘I like large parties. They’re so intimate…’” you shrug, bottom lip tugging between your teeth when he doesn’t show any recognition, “‘At small parties there isn’t any privacy.’”

“You actually remembered that shit?”

You titter coyly, “Maybe I saw it on one of those book quotes videos. Maybe I remembered it.”

“Well, it’s a stupid quote. There’s too much noise at big parties, it’s hard to hear people.”

“You hear me just fine,” that’s just because he’s leaning closer and trying harder than he does for most people, “Besides, I like it. At big parties you can just fuck off and do your own thing, you know? At small parties there’s this expectation to be around everyone and interact with everyone and be having fun with the group.”

Finally, it seems to click, he nods slowly, “You like to get away from the crowd?”

“Yeah,” you scratch the side of your arm, then your neck, and it’s so odd how just thinking about how uncomfortable your skin is that you can get so itchy, “Hard to do that when the crowd’s five people and a dog.”

“Well,” Megumi can feel Yuuji’s stare, and it takes everything in him to not knock the kid up his skull, “If you wanna get away, I’m sure - uh,” he’s suddenly humiliated by his own hubris, “I’m sure there’s room… upstairs…”

You grace him with a patient nod, hands lowering from his shoulders to lace your fingers together, “I’m sure there is.”

…

“So…”

Megumi nods, head slowly tilting so he’s staring up at you through his long lashes, “So.”

You lean closer, shoulder pressing and nose bumping against his, “So?”

The heat from Megumi’s cheeks wavers over you, his flesh ripe with crimson. You want to bite him. Leave a terrible mark that he couldn’t possibly cover up; maybe he’d let it bleed through his dark shirt. Maybe he’d let you lick it clean.

“You look nice,” he tucks his face down, heated skin now flush against your top. His brows furrow, uncertain, “Really nice.”

Megumi wonders what Satoru or Yuuji would do. They’re greedier than him by nature. More outgoing.

They would’ve done something years ago.

Suddenly, you grin. All sharp teeth and nails pricking over his thigh, through his pants. Your eyes stare down at him over the bridge of your nose, and you lean closer - smothering any space he’d initially put between your bodies.

“Are you gonna do something about it?”

Megumi’s eyes widen, warmth beating over his face and the back of his neck. He flails for a response, trapped under your piercing gaze, before finally settling on a response that he hopes pleases you.

“Do you want me to?”

You frown; something in his chest stings, a chord pulled awry. The tug of your lips is all a ploy, a mesmerizing color to disguise venom, “Don’t you want to, ‘gumi?” you pull away, leaning back with your hands pressed to the mattress below, “Don’t you want me?”

A cold breeze from this stranger’s open window takes up residence across Megumi’s sweltering skin. He hates it. He wants to get up from the bed altogether and slam the window shut. He wants to take you in both hands and sink himself into the softness of your skin. He thinks you’d be savory.

He wants to be certain.

So both of his hands mold to your hips, melting his exposed skin to yours.

Fingers dipping into the waistband of your bottoms, he bats his eyelashes and tucks his lower lip between fangs. He may draw blood. He cares not.

The oxygen is thin; hardly refreshing.

Megumi swallows the pooling want on his tongue, his fingers twitch against you, “Can I- “

“‘gumi…” you flatten yourself onto your back, hips tilting up into his palms, “Show me you want me.”

“Okay,” Megumi nods, air forced out of his throat through swollen hunger, “Okay.”

Once he’s gotten your pants off, Megumi presses open kisses against the inside of your thighs, following the swell to its natural apex. He digs the jab of his nose into you, lips impolitely fluttering against the seat of your panties before dipping his tongue out. Lolling the soft, soaked muscle over the clinging fabric, he feels his chest clench at how you rock your hips down into his face.

He feels one of your hands wind into his messy hair, carding through the softness. He wants to make you tug it - pull cruelly and grind against his face. Take what he gives and selfishly demand more.

Megumi groans heartily into your clothed cunt when the slickness of his saliva pulls your wetness from the cloth; when the unabashed taste of you meets his tongue.

He nearly rips your panties down your legs, settling it in a ball at his side. Heart leaping up into his jaw at the mere thought of getting his tongue into you.

Laving his tongue between your folds, Megumi licks up to your clit and circles the bud - his hips jerking down into the plush mattress when you jolt up and tug his hair. He pulls his head back only to pucker his lips and drool onto your hole, adding to the sloshing wetness before steadying his shaky fingers against you.

Sucking your clit into his mouth, Megumi begins softly. Caressing the bundle of nerves with his warm tongue, blending flat, broad strokes with precision dances of the muscle over you. Meanwhile, he slicks his middle finger into your hole and moans in response to your gasp.

When he’s sure you’re wet and stretched enough, he adds a second finger and curls them both upwards. The muscles in his arm will be aching tomorrow, but he shoves that to the back of his mind. He presses and scissors and dips inside you until the pads of his fingers find sponge, and he hits there, and there again. And again. And again. And again.

He hits there until you’re fully babbling, gushing against his swollen, pink lips and chin. And he’s starting to babble back.

Vibrations are loosely strewn together as ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and ‘cum on me’ are bound against your clit as he nuzzles closer into your heat. Burying himself between your thighs and finding himself releasing a moan into your cunt when your thighs clenched tightly around his head. The fat of your thighs snug over his ears.

Releasing your clit from between his lips with a soft ‘pop’, Megumi flays his tongue onto the exposed nerve. Hot puffs of air leave him with each groan and whimper as his desperation to make you cum hammers over him.

Finally, you yank his hair again and snap your hips into his tongue; cunt sucking his fingers in even deeper. You squeeze around him, back arching, and his name singing from your lips.

Megumi unfurls his fingers as your cum splashes out onto his waiting tongue and chin, riding you through the hurls of pleasure until your twitching legs crash back onto the mattress. Slowly, he slides his fingers out of you before licking up your excess release from the divots in your thighs and your cunt.

Unwinding your fingers, you settle for soothing his stinging scalp with gentle pets.

Eventually sitting up, Megumi gasps for air as you do, staring down at his fingers. Shining with your wetness.

“Still hungry?” you tease, voice ripped at the edges.

“Actually?” Megumi shrugs, “A little.”

The cocky air has dissipated from your body. Once tense and lively limbs were now useless against the bed.

Megumi jams both fingers into his mouth and sucks off your cum.

“Insatiable!” you huff.

Rouge has overtaken Megumi’s cheeks - worse than before - and he can’t meet your eyes after having swallowed what remained of your soak. He leans over onto his elbow to avoid crushing you, “Only when it’s you… I don’t,” he waves his hand around, “do this often…”

“Really? Could’ve fooled me.”

Megumi has to hide his grin, almost embarrassed to enjoy being praised, choosing to take up time looking around the room you’d shoved him into.

Idol posters with one constant member litter the walls. Pink concert tickets cover the desk. And many pictures with the same two people overwhelm Megumi’s sight. He feels an unsettled chill scrawl over his skin.

“Todo is going to kill me,” he grimaces.

“Was it worth it?”

Megumi doesn’t take long to respond, already trying to think of where and when he can get you under him again, “Definitely.”

Megumi’s proper death is drowning via punani tsunami *thumbs up emoji*

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi smut #megumi x you #megumi fluff #fushiguro smut #fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen movie marathon event

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ogradyfilm · 4 months

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Recently Viewed: The Zone of Interest

The Zone of Interest is a horror film.

That isn’t a “genre” classification, by the way; the movie lacks the “traditional” tropes and conventions commonly associated with the most narrow, stringent application of that (often reductive) label, which tends to conjure images of ghosts, ghouls, and machete-wielding maniacs. Still, the intent of the story is to terrify the audience—it simply accomplishes this goal through subtler means than, say, Friday the 13th or The Evil Dead. There is, for example, little explicit bloodshed; the atrocities occur almost entirely offscreen. Yet “implication” doesn’t dull the impact of the violence; on the contrary, it somehow feels more confrontational (albeit less exploitative) than outright showing mass graves and gallons of gore.

The narrative revolves around a series of chilling juxtapositions. Seemingly ordinary family meals and joyful birthday celebrations, for instance, are lent a sinister tone by virtue of the fact that the patriarch wears the uniform of a high-ranking SS officer. The mother, meanwhile, tends her garden, taking great pride in the colorful, fragrant flowers and bountiful vegetables; she then casually mentions that she hopes her plants and crops will eventually obscure the drab, dreary concrete wall at the rear of the property—a barrier that borders Auschwitz. Indeed, the protagonists literally live in the shadow of the notorious death camp. They dress themselves in clothing and jewelry confiscated from the Jewish prisoners; the eldest son has even made a hobby of collecting discarded gold teeth and dental plates. At night, the father stands on the back porch, enjoying a cigar as he watches the black smoke billowing above the crematorium chimneys—the perverse epitome of a professional admiring a “job well done.” The household servants—local girls hired from the nearby village—dutifully clear the silverware, scrub the floors, and polish the master’s boots, constantly tormented by the knowledge that their very survival depends upon the “benevolence” of their employers.

Director Jonathan Glazer observes the action with an unnervingly cold detachment. The predominantly static camera and rigidly symmetrical framing are reminiscent of the works of Roy Andersson and Chantal Akerman. This deliberately mundane, undramatic visual style emphasizes the inherent humanity of the subjects: they’re Nazis, yes, but they’re also people—a somewhat clichéd theme that nevertheless remains relevant and resonant. Anybody, after all, is capable of choosing evil; we must therefore be vigilant, lest we become history’s next monster.

Thus, The Zone of Interest is objective in its presentation, but not nonjudgmental. And that is a vital distinction.

#The Zone of Interest #Zone of Interest #A24 #Jonathan Glazer #film #writing #movie review

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hyperfocuscentre · 8 months

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so following on from this post

more solangelo as parents!

Nico’s job would literally just be doing stuff for Hades. He doesn’t really get payed in the conventional way, but he has access to all Hades’ riches so they live a comfy life.

Will becomes a doctor. I don’t think he went to college or university, mostly because it didn’t appeal to him and the idea of learning something he’d been doing from a very young age felt belittling. Instead, he convinced Chiron to forge him some papers and with a bit of mist manipulation, he got straight into doctor training at a hospital or however that works (foundation program or something?).

They have twins, because I love twins. A girl named Bianca and a boy named Michael-Lee (shut up i think it rolls of the tongue).

ML (i’m not writing the whole name everytime) is trans so he wasn’t always called this, but he wanted a name that was important to his parents and he wanted them to name him so that’s what he ended up with. He loves it, he says it feels like a pop star stage name.

Nico definitely cooks the food, his signature dish is pasta. He makes it from scratch because he says the store packages are disgusting and processed junk.

Will is the one who kisses their injuries and tucks them into bed at night (although Nico obviously says goodnight and love you’s too).

I feel like they both deal with the nightmares but most of the time, it’s Will because Nico is harder to wake up. He sings them lullabies and has actually started to appreciate his voice a lot more because of this. However, Nico can be found sometimes cuddling one or both of the twins close, wiping their tears and even sometimes singing Italian lullabies that he vaguely remembers from his childhood.

I feel like Nico plays rough with them, things like violent pillow fights followed by lots of exhilarated screams and giggles. He’s never too rough though, and he’s never hurt them. He can easily tell when to stop and when it’s time to calm down and take a break.

Nico is the soft touch, he acts like he isn’t but he is. He’ll say snarky things and talk to the twins like they’re adults from a very young age (in a funny way, not a weird way lmao) but he can’t handle seeing them upset or crying. Both of them are very spoiled and any shopping trips with Nico end with them coming back, hands full of toy boxes and faces stretched into beaming smiles.

Will is the more tough parent, but honestly he’s a silly too. He may know how to discipline them when he has to, but he also jokes with them and geeks out over their favourite films and shows with them.

Apollo loves that they have twins, and often compares them to him and Artemis (mostly because Bianca has dark, auburn hair and ML is a blond).

I feel like they live in a white, picket fence area but none of their neighbors like them. They painted the white fence a soft yellow and have a giant pride flag wafting on the front. There’s exotic, brightly coloured plants everywhere and the only reason they live is prayers to Persephone and the fact the goddess herself sometimes visits.

Persephone has basically claimed those kids as her grankids, she loves coming over to play with them and loves that she can without breaking any stupid divine laws.

Hades acts unbothered but he’s been caught smiling softly at the twins or even simply at Nico and Will being disgustingly domestic. His Christmas gifts are always huge and the first thing the twins open.

They tried to take one of those professional family photos when the twins were toddlers; it didn’t go so well. Nico is blinking, Bianca is screaming, Will’s face is basically a blur and ML is growling at the camera but the glint in his eyes says he finds himself hilarious. The photo is hung up above the fireplace.

They join their names which means ML’s name is a mouthful. Michael-Lee Di Angelo-Solace. He probably has a middle name too, although i’m not sure what. Maybe Lester, for the jokes?

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lovingperfectionsblog · 2 years

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A Feisty Woman

Max Verstappen x Reader

Request: hi babes how about a fic where the reader is in a relationship with max, and she's like a bad, confident bitch who likes to do whatever she likes. she likes to dress up, show skin and whatever she pleases; but max is confident, he likes that about her, he doesn't mind that other people get to see who only HE sleeps with at night. And other people ask him about it, but he's like why would any of the stuff I fell in love with about her bother me.

Summary: Max gets questioned about you in an interview and gives a surprising response.

Warnings: Language, mentions of sexual activity.

Word Count: 1363

Authors note: I absolutely love men who just stand by their authentic partners and celebrate them for who they are and are protective of them is just absolute top notch for me <3 Slightly shorter than usual but I hope you all enjoy 😊

_____

“So Max, would it be okay if we moved onto something a little ore personal then?”

“By all means”

“Forgive me for saying this, but your relationship as seen some controversiy so far hasn’t it”

Max couldn’t help but laugh at the question.

“How did I know it was going to be about my relationship”

“You’re not exactly dating someone who generally follows the conventions around the paddock”

“What do you mean by the conventions around the paddock?”

Max knew exactly what he meant, but he wanted to hear him say it. He wanted to hear him find a polite way of saying he thought that Max’s girlfriend dressed inappropriately and seemed a bit too forward.

That’s what everyone said.

“Well, the other WAGs are slightly more, and please know I don’t mean this in a disrespectful way, but they tend to be a bit more conservative, less loud, less out there, more reserved you know?”

“And look how it turned out with the last woman I dated that was like that. I need someone who can take me on, someone strong, someone who doesn’t stand for any shit and takes what she rightfully deserves.”

“And it doesn’t bug you?”

“What? Dating a feisty woman? It most certainly does not, again, like I’ve said, I need someone like her.”

He had meant that. You were like no one he had ever experienced before and finally he found a personal who could truly challenge him in the best of ways. A woman who stood up for herself and her beliefs and was authentic no matter what. Someone who didn’t just, go along with whatever he said. Someone he was sure of. Someone who didn’t just want him because he was the Max Verstappen. Someone who honestly actually didn’t care about any of it.

Just of him.

“Oh, no, I mean, how she dresses and behaves?”

“Is there a reason I should be bugged be it?”

“Well, it isn’t exactly reserved is it?”

“And why is that something that should bug me?”

“Well, wouldn’t you want your woman to kind of just dress like that for you?”

“And not show all of that off? It would be an actual crime. And on top of it, there is plenty she isn’t showing the public. Plenty which is reserved just for me and our home and our bed.”

“Oh no, listen,-“

“No, you listen, what my girlfriend does is her business. All that’s important is that her and I are loyal to each other. While I’m here, lets actually properly get into this. She is an educated, confident, loving, witty, funny, charming, loyal, and passionate woman, and so goddamn beautiful, fuck, I could go on forever listing every good fucking quality about her, but all anyone is focused on is how she dresses and how much skin she’s showing. There are so few woman out there who are confident in who they are, Christ, there are so few people who are confident in who they are and we want to ruin the ones who already are? No, enough, I love her, all of her. She has literally encouraged me to be more sure of myself and honestly made me love myself more than I ever thought possible simply because she is brave enough to be who she is. Because despite what everyone else says and how ever many hits she takes in the media from journalists like you, she loves herself relentlessly and that is what matters to me”

“Max, I am sorry, I didn’t mean to offend-“

“No this interview is done. No more about my girlfriend yeah?”

Max didn’t even give the journalist a moment to respond, simply getting up to make his way back to the paddock, done with conversations around his personal life and more importantly, you.

He knew he was going to get an earful from his media team, knew that he was meant to invite the public into more of his life, to build a better brand away from the angry Max Verstappen on track, but no way was he going to do that if this is what you had to endure because of it.

And lord knows he wasn’t going to lose you because people were too invested in how you dressed.

_____

“So, I saw the latest interview” you spoke gently as you carded your fingers through Max’s hair, feeling him soften into you as he lay with his head on your chest.

“Jesus Christ” he was so thankful once he had returned to the hotel that evening to find you there, warm, safe, everything he had needed after a day like today.

“The liberal girlfriend who dresses too slutty” you laughed to yourself, shocked that this is all the media had chosen to focus on and pick apart, yet still feeling a slight insecurity creeping up, concerned that, despite all Max had said, he maybe felt the same underneath it all.

“God I fucking hate that word, hate that this is what you’re called” his grip tightened around you, trying to convey every ounce of protectiveness to you that he felt, and if that meant trapping you in his grip for the moment, then so be it.

“If you want, I can dress a little different from now on” you broached the topic with him, not exactly wanting to change how you portrayed yourself, but willing to if it gave him some reprieve. ‘

“Don’t you fucking dare change who you are because of some bullshit journalists who don’t know anything about you. I love you. As you are. Please, do not change a single thing about you and plus, you wear what you want because I know how to fight.” he didn’t intend to sound so forceful, but he needed you to know that this, who you were, was always more than enough for him and he never ever intended on going for less ever again.

“Plus, and as much as I hate them calling you a slut, it wasn’t the word I was referring to” he was looking at you now, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

“And what word were you referring to then love?” confusing on yours in contrast.

“Girlfriend”

“What are they meant to call me then?” God he loved feeling you laugh almost as much as hearing it.

“My fiancé” the seriousness was just as evident in his voice as the playfulness was, so much so that it shocked you into silence, although you didn’t want to push Max too quickly, you’d wanted nothing more than to marry him.

“Are you saying you want me to marry you there handsome?” neither of you averting your eyes, dancing along a thin line between seriousness and joking.

“Oh, it is definitely in the works I can promise you that” and it was a promise he was keeping, with full knowledge that the ring was busy being made and should be ready for him next week to collect.

“Sure you can handle your wife wearing such revealing clothing?” you gave a little side eye as you began to move your hand lower along his chest.

Max leaned in, lips brushing against yours, a poor attempt from him at preventing the shiver running down his spine as he felt your nails gently grazing his skin, desperate for the moment he felt them along the band of his underwear.

“I fully intend for the first month that we are married to make sure that neither of us wear any clothing at all” his eyes suddenly focused on the strap of your shirt, gently edging it down your shoulder.

“And I think we should start getting used to it now, don’t you think?”

#max verstappen #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #monaco #f1 x reader #max verstappen x you #f1 one shot #formula one x reader #formula 1 #Max Vertsappen x reader #Max verstappen #x reader

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mirrorball-writings · 2 months

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Watch Me.

Isabelle Clarichet is a racing prodigy. She is beyond talented and has won countless races and championships, but she still faces doubt and criticism simply because she is a woman. Thankfully, one team believes in her, and gives her the opportunity she deserves to move up the ranks and ultimately earn a seat in Formula 1.

WC: 2.3k

Reading time: 8:33

Warnings: sexism

I’ve heard the cheers after every race, and they never sound like they do when I’m the one standing on the podium. When I hold the trophy over my head and spray the champagne, I don’t hear roaring applause. It’s quieter; there’s more whispering, and I can always hear the one guy in the back making some inappropriate comment, asking me to take off the race suit and show off my fireproofs, show off my body. Or something like that. It doesn’t matter how close the race was, or how far ahead I was from the next car, it’s always the same. I’m used to it now — it’s been this way even since I was karting. I’m used to the hush over the crowd when they realize that a girl won the race, and I’m used to the awkward conversations when people say, “Really, Isabelle? Why would you want to be a racing driver? You could do something more… conventional.” They’ve never figured out the right word to use. I’m used to all the judgment and doubts, but most of all, I’m used to the rejections.

I’ve always been a talented driver. My parents hammered that in early: If I’m going to do something, I had better do it right. If I’m going to try something, I had better be successful. Since my early karting days, I’ve been a fair rival to even the prodigies on the track, and my competitors learned early on to respect me as one of their own. Unfortunately, not everyone got that memo. I was barely a teenager when I realized that. While all my friends were getting their first sponsorships and team offers, I was still sitting with my blank kart, not a brand to be seen. At first, I thought it was luck of the draw, but I knew my place, and I knew that I was better than many of my competitors, who were flooded with offers to join training programs. The obvious difference between us was the unavoidable fact that I was a girl. I was only thirteen when I came to terms with the fact that my journey in racing will not get easier. I will always have to fight to be taken seriously, and I will have to drive twice as fast to get the same respect in this sport. It isn’t fair, but that’s how it is. Talent alone was not enough for me.

F4 starts at fifteen, so teams usually like to give offers for their training programs when drivers are still fourteen. For me, thirteen and fourteen passed by with no contacts, and fifteen didn’t seem to be going any better. When I asked the man who ran my local karting league, he recommended going to the teams myself, and asking to be considered for a seat. He told me, “Isabelle, you’re talented. You deserve a seat, at least as much as these other drivers do. You have to understand that teams are nervous to give you a seat, because they’ve never had a girl drive for them. I know that you can handle it, but you have to show them that you have what it takes. They won’t realize it on their own.” It’s unfair. It’s beyond unfair. I knew that at fifteen, and a fifteen-year-old girl should never be facing the realization that she will always be at a disadvantage, just because she’s a girl. But, ultimately, I knew he was right. I had already seen it firsthand: No teams were going to come to me, so if I wanted an offer, I would have to go to them myself.

I wanted to drive for ART. They were in France, so they wouldn’t be too far away, and they were an incredible racing team where I would really have the opportunity to improve and work towards a Formula 1 seat. I flew out to France, and I made my case. I showed them my records, and all the awards and championships I had won with my racing. They seemed impressed, but when the time came for them to decide whether I’d get an offer, all they said was, “We don’t think you’re the right fit for our team.” I was shocked, and I was embarrassed, but I was not hopeless. I went to DAMS, and I gave them the same presentation. I received the same answer.

“You’re just not the right fit for our team.”

“We’re not sure you’re ready for this next step in your career.”

“Maybe take a few more years in karting, and then we can reconsider.”

“We just want to make sure our drivers are ready for the pressure of F4.”

I went home. I trained, and I raced, and I won, again and again and again. I proved myself, again and again and again. I put myself out there, and I made records, and I kept winning. And yet, all remained silent — no offers, no contact. No team would sign a girl to a seat.

I was sixteen when I finally got an offer. It was from PREMA. They wanted me to come to their headquarters for training, to hopefully put me into an F3 seat for next season. I couldn’t pass it up, and a few weeks later, I had packed my things and moved to Italy, to what would end up being my home for almost three years.

I thought being signed to a team would be the end of it, but the whispers remained. PREMA itself was supportive, and I wasn’t even the only girl in their program. Being around other female drivers, and being in a program that believed that we could perform just as well as boys, was a welcome change, and plenty of the other F3 teams and drivers had the same respect for me as PREMA did. Still, we saw it in the news, and we heard the comments at the races. Any mistake I made, and we were bound to hear questions of whether a girl was really cut out for an intense sport like racing. No matter how much I assured them I had what it takes, they always wanted to ask my teammate what he thought about it. He must know better.

I started F3 at sixteen, and F2 at seventeen. I raced harder than ever, and the original skeptics shut up after long. I raced just as well as my teammate, and I had more podiums than many of my competitors. I didn’t win the championship, but I was close behind. I won sixth in F3, a far better placement than most rookies, and I couldn’t ask for much better, since I knew I wouldn’t beat the records of Piastri, Sargeant, Vesti, and the like. My first year in F2, I ended up in sixth. My second year, I won second place. I still heard the criticism and the doubts, and I couldn’t escape the negative comments on social media, but things were much quieter. I was proud of my results, and I was proud of how well I had proved that I had what it takes, but I expected nothing of it, at least for a few years to come. Much to my surprise, though, less than a month after the end of the F2 season, I got an offer for a Formula 1 seat. All of my hard work had paid off, and it was time to prove once and for all that I deserved to be a driver just as much as anybody else.

Pre-season training flew by in an F1 car, literally and metaphorically. Being surrounded by the drivers I had watched growing up, and being a rookie alongside some of my best friends from the past few years, made the experience just that much more of a dream, although it certainly all felt unreal to finally be here, living out the daydream I had had since the day I started karting so many years ago. After all the rejections, all the doubts, I had certainly had many days where I thought this would never come to me, and yet I was here, driving a real F1 car, preparing to take my place on a real F1 team for the upcoming season. My arm was bruised from being pinched.

I had made it. I thought to myself, “This is the end of the naysayers. This is the end of the skepticism and the judgment. This is the beginning of a career of respect, where I will finally be seen as equal to the other drivers.” That was my assumption, and I was sure it would be the truth, but my contract had still not been announced. There was speculation, to be sure, about who would take the seat this year, and about whether I or any other F2 drivers would end up as reserve drivers or in actual seats this year in F1, but no formal announcements had been made, so I was only working on assumption when I assured myself that this season would be different. I could never have imagined how wrong I could have been.

I woke up on January 18 like I did any other day. Alarm goes off, I roll out of bed, I brush my teeth, I eat breakfast. It was almost an hour before I opened my phone — almost an hour that I was awake and unaware of what was going on. When I did check my phone, though, I saw hundreds, maybe thousands, of notifications waiting for me on every social media platform I owned. Tags, reposts, follows, comments; something must have happened for this many people to be taking this much notice of me. Upon opening Instagram, I was met with a bright graphic from one of the many F1 news accounts I follow. I couldn’t miss the bold text: “F2 runner-up Isabelle Clarichet to join F1 this season?!”

How could they have found out? We hadn’t made the announcement, and I knew we weren’t going to for a few more weeks, as we were still getting everything sorted. When I looked in the caption, I found my answer: They didn’t know if this was true, but they had heard rumours from an “anonymous source within the F1 community” that I had been doing training with one of the teams. I decided not to address any of the innumerable questions about whether this was true, because I wasn’t supposed to let anyone outside of my immediate family and closest friends know that I had signed a contract until the team made their own official announcement. My own silence, though, didn’t stop the comments and messages from flooding in. I received countless DMs and mentions in posts and comments telling me the same things I had heard so many times before in my career.

“Women don’t belong in motorsport.”

“Go back to ballet class.”

“She won’t be able to handle the pressure of real racing.”

“What happened to hiring athletes?”

It isn’t fair. Again and again I’ve proved my worth and shown the world that I could handle pressure and competition, that I could win, and still people doubt whether I deserve to be here. Thankfully, having done well in F2 and F3, I had gained a following over the years of people excited to see a woman excelling in a male-dominated sport like racing, and they were happy to support me every time one of these ignorant comments appeared. And, thankfully, the opinions of some random guy on the internet doesn’t really matter, because I’d already signed a contract with a team, and whatever people thought about it wouldn’t change the fact that I would be racing. I tried to encourage myself with that idea, that their opinions couldn’t change reality. But it still hurt. It hurt so much to know that I would probably never be enough for them, just because I was a girl.

Three weeks is a long time to wait when your inbox is constantly flooded with questions and speculations about where you’re racing next year. Three weeks is a long time to continuously see hateful messages and be unable to defend yourself against them. But three weeks was how long I would have to wait before an official statement could be put out revealing my contract with the team. Those three weeks were filled with training, track practice, and silent tears of frustration. They went by quickly.

I could almost hear the uproar when the news went out. I could almost feel the tension in the air as people would be reading about where I had signed, as people would be making up their minds about whether or not they would support me this year. I knew the moment I opened my phone, I would see thousands of congratulations clashed against thousands of hateful worlds, but I was prepared, and I knew that this was what was in store for me for the rest of my career. I wasn’t worried. I had my team on my side, and I had the support and respect of all the other drivers on the grid. I had proved myself before, and I was prepared to do it again, and again, and again, every day for the rest of my life. And, indeed, when I opened up my phone, I saw the announcement there. I saw the comments. I saw the excitement and the disappointment and the anger all mingled together, right there in front of me, for myself and the world to see. But overshadowing it all was the fact that this was real, and this contract had been signed and the seat had been taken and the person who had done so was me. And that announcement said a name, and it was my name. My name.

“Nineteen-year-old Isabelle Clarichet to join Mercedes F1 team 2023.”

This is the first part of my F1 "series" Baby Driver (yes, I know Baby Driver is also a movie title, but I just love the sound of it so that's the series name). I put "series" in quotes because it won't be a series in the traditional sense, meaning it won't follow one constant plotline, but it will instead be a number of different scenarios and stories of the same character and in the same universe, if that makes sense. So all of the stories will be about Isabelle and her experiences in F1 and interactions with other drivers. I should point out as a disclaimer that obviously I had to switch around some drivers so that Isabelle could race at Mercedes, so I apologize if I mention someone racing at a different team than they actually do. Feel free to request any story, F1 or not, and you can also request stories for Baby Driver as well if you have any ideas!

#fanfiction #imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 #formula one #formula racing

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wataksampingan · 1 year

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This was supposed to be some form of Therdeo Dane Lapileon Defense Thesis but my brain cannot pull off all the necessary research to do it justice.

So I guess let’s just brain dump all my thoughts and feelings?? About this manhwa?? (Spoilers for the story up to episode 63 on Webtoons and 66 on Naver Webtoons)

...this also gets FAR too long so cut is here for sanity’s sake. Tl;dr Theo Lapileon is a wounded puppy and I want him to be happy gdi

I need to preface the Theo content by saying that I adore Pereshati. I think she’s one of the more realistic heroines that I’ve read, in the sense that she’s plucky and determined but she damn well knows how the game is played. Every move she makes is plagued with doubt and uncertainty coz she’s only a minor noble, and one with an unbelievable story at that. (Resurrecting after being fed poisonous blood and getting thrown back in time is a stretch for anyone). But whenever she does decide to do something, she handles herself with the kind of poise you’d expect from a grown woman who knows how polite society works. It’s the kind of elegance and maturity that the novel’s Perry doesn’t have.

I wonder very much how seungu would have thrown Perry into Theo’s way if they had had full control of the adaptation because the first... 10? episodes or so reads very much like a typical isekai manhwa: she’s murdered, she awakes, and then immediately besieges Theo with a proposal, simply because he needs to marry someone to get the emperor/princess off his back. The Perry we see currently in the latest chapters would likely have done something smarter/more socially acceptable/conventional simply because imperial pressure or no, why the fuck would the grand duke entertain a minor noble they’ve never met before?

Granted, this is quite in line with Theo’s character in the first few episodes as well (which is lampshaded in a later chapter AND I LOVED IT) whose excuse for entertaining her absurd request/proposal is just “I got curious about the woman who kept bombarding us with messages”. The Theo we see later, who just burns letters from the Fourth Princess Dodolea without even thinking about it, would have hardly buckled under that kind of insistence.

This is all pure speculation of course because the artist, seungu, has no social media I could trace. The original novel’s writer, Han Yoonseol, has Twitter and various socmed that show an active writing career and interest in the MILAOWM webtoon. But the artist? Nothing, apart from their work. They’ve completed a previous series (Google translated to “New Year’s Taste”) but that also seems like an adaptation. I have no access to their thought process, rationale or any inkling of why certain decisions were made.

Whatever the case though, those decisions so far have me hooked. They’re making changes that reflect something more... realistic, with higher stakes and actual consequences for the actions of the characters. E.g. you can’t humiliate, much less threaten, members of the nobility at a public function in front of a crowd without some sort of retaliation. Theo in the novel actually threatens to kill a nobleman in cold blood in front of a gathered audience whereas Theo in the manhwa does this in private.

Well, I say threaten. In the manhwa, he has just a fraction of the dialogue Novel!Theo says. Just one or two lines before he snaps and is about to decapitate a mofo before being restrained by his guards. The bullying incident that precipitates this is also dealt with realistic actions and importantly, contains a reflection on Perry’s part about the power and privilege the Lapileons have in this universe. I don’t know if this foreshadows anything but my mind has gone as far as the dissolution of the empire/defection to an enemy kingdom (and the loss of their noble titles) by the end of the whole manhwa. Far-fetched? Maybe, but I have so much faith in seungu by now and so little idea of what they’re planning that I won’t be surprised.

Manhwa!Therdeo Lapileon is also extremely taciturn and poker-faced, to all the natural disadvantages this sort of personality entails. Everything we know about him is told in silent images, or expressions we explicitly don’t see. This is a man who believes in actions over words, who has no idea that open communication is a Thing and that doing stuff behind a person’s back without telling them can backfire at times (”I’m gonna have someone follow my wife’s ex-fiance around without telling her, and that got her kidnapped. SHIT.”) And all the backstory that’s been hinted at so far gives us very sad explanations how he turned out this way.

One could very justifiably argue that actually, the entire Lapileon family is a collection of sad iron woobies. Saoirse lost her husband and only son because of her own blood, Phineas is doing his level best to save his family but keeps seeing them die despite his medical expertise, Gloria probably had a HELL of a marriage to survive this long, and the poor children have had their own bouts of suffering and daddy issues. And of course there’s also Pereshati who’s been murdered about 3-4 times at this point, and lost a most beloved father to a stepmother she loved to the moon and back.

BUT. Theo.

If the housekeeper’s flashback in Episode 47 is anything to go by, and if I’m guessing right, Theo and Saoirse’s father (maybe grandfather? Unclear at this point but let’s go with father for now) was a nightmare of a man. Slaughtering servants for infractions was probably a regular threat in the Lapileon home, and judging from that flashback during the episodes when they first find Islette, so was torturing and testing his younger son’s limits. His survival in the family was due to his “usefulness”.

One can suspect that of the three siblings, Theo was the one with the softest heart. We have no idea what his older brother (Celphi’s dad) was like yet and Saoirse is a Lapileon to the core: toughened enough to do what is needed, hardened even further by tragedy. She’s also a mom, which is why harming Islette earned Gen a rightful and vicious stiletto-heels-to-the-face-ass kicking. It also gets Theo a reprimand: get his shit together or step down from the headship of the family.

(And I’m just. Saoirse, honey, I love and respect you immensely and to be stepped on by your footwear of choice would be my honour. But that’s your younger brother we’re talking about. And he’s been emotionally sucker punched in just about every aspect. He’s trying, okay?)

I’m just saying that when you’re a child, and abused to that degree, sympathy from the devil is still sympathy. Of course it echoes to the present day even as a full-grown, supposedly rational adult. Of course it’s going to fuck you up.

You were also probably raised to put family above all (witness Theo not trusting Perry with the full truth of Celphi’s condition until circumstances force his hand, Saoirse only fully warming up to her once it’s clear she loves Celphi without any ulterior motive, Gloria immediately expecting her to be wrong about the family blood being sold, only to be confounded by the awful truth that this stranger to the family was right). You’ve been operating on the full expectation that any Lapileon would follow that creed. How could they not? Their curse is too great a responsibility.

Then you’re forced to confront the devil who once gave you rare comfort as a child, and that devil bears your family name and blood. Not only does he spout the most heinous things you’ve never imagined, he also manages to hit you where it hurts: you have used your blood. You have used it for your own benefit. Are you truly no better than he is? Who are you to judge him?

(Never mind that the devil is a liar and is trying to save his own ass which is why Saoirse, who has a better understanding of her own identity and self-worth, doesn’t give him enough time to say anything - she just kicks the shit out of him)

Is it any wonder Theo hesitates to do anything harsher?

Everything he does implies a reluctance to inflict lethal force if it can be helped. Perry remarks on it when he first removes Schiff without killing him the day they got married. He doesn’t even draw his sword on the assassin at the parade, merely KICKING HIM INTO ORBIT subduing him long enough to be taken in by the guards. The only times he has killed someone in the story is Perry’s ex-fiance who had kidnapped and blackmailed her, and... well, Perry herself.

(Which again goes back to that weird early episode installment - how do you reconcile him feeding her his blood in such a cavalier manner with the gravity of his responsibility as head of the family to ensure their blood isn’t used exactly like that?

You give him a HUGEASS dose of remorse and guilt later on when Gen accuses him of also using the blood to his own advantage, and then have him offer a sincere apology to the woman he experimented on.)

He also very nearly murdered the father of the child who bullied his ward. But even that was prevented by Raymon, the guard. This is more speculation on my part but his personal guards - who are all loyal to him beyond a doubt - may have been instructed (by him?) to restrain Theo, maybe to make sure he doesn’t repeat the sins of his father who just murdered people as and when it suited him. I don’t know if seungu would even bring this up at some point but I’ll be thrilled if that is the case.

This abusive childhood is compounded by the trauma of war. Theo specifically is credited with just swooping in out of the blue and ending the conflict between the Castor Empire and the kingdom of Schwartz. His reaction to being hailed a hero is to show up covered in blood to report to the emperor, and then disappear back to the country without attending any ceremonies. It earns him the notorious reputation of being “the bloodthirsty war fiend”.

Judging from Episode 13, what he really earned was a lifelong diagnosis of PTSD and various other neuroses. “Fuck this noise, I’m going home” was a reasonable reaction from a man who has no care or time for polite society. I'd go a bit further to suggest he also didn’t want to hear his actions being lauded as heroic when all he experienced was violence and death (re: that line about him being glad his statue was destroyed, that it’d been a stain on his honour). Whatever he did was to satisfy the emperor who has some form of hold over him, and absolutely no respect for the Lapileons (every single reaction from any imperial family member, even creepy Dodolea, has been sneering condescension or reluctant compliments). So from that perspective, why the hell would he have stayed to schmooze at the castle?

There are no therapists in Castor clearly coz Theo does what most soft-hearted introverts do and represses the shit out of his trauma. Just... stuff it WAY down into the depths of his subconscious and never address it because what the fuck else would you expect him to do? Talk about his ~*~feelings~*~ in the Lapileon house where weakness is a death sentence? No, he bundles it all behind his iron mask and resigns himself to literal nightmares for the rest of his existence.

The timeline has yet to be properly established, but I'm guessing that he comes back from war only to find that his brother has died and sister-in-law has just upped and left. Which means baby Celphi is left in his care. I’m not sure why Saoirse wasn’t the one to adopt him, but I’m guessing since he’s the next in line to the grand dukedom, it ‘makes sense’ that Grand Duke Therdeo has to be in charge of him. (Saoirse not being able to become head of the family just because she’s a woman is another sticking point that I suspect will be key to resolving this entire mess) (how/when exactly he becomes Theo’s ward is subject to many theories since the timeline of the story hasn’t been actually clearly explained; a guess that a friend and I have settled on is perhaps at the time, securing Celphi’s place as a ‘spare heir’ after Saoirse, Saoirse’s son and Theo in the line of succession would have been a practical decision. Either that or, more plausibly, Theo saw Celphi in himself and just decided to adopt the boy. Which makes this next part even more tragic)

The image of Theo in a soldier’s uniform looking helplessly into the cradle, with baby Celphi reaching up to him, broke me when I first saw it. It explains every mistake Theo made in trying to raise him.

He was a soldier. What the hell would he know about raising children (even if the theory that he chose to adopt this boy is correct)? He loves this tiny child with every breath, and he’d do anything for Celphi - but most of what he knows is how to fight and die. How the fuck does that help?? Not only that, his only experience of fatherhood is the shadow of a man who abused him so severely. What is that supposed to teach a man about parenting?

Clearly not much, considering his very shocked reaction when Celphi ends up demanding what he was supposed to think when his guardian/uncle kept ignoring him all the time while he was growing up.

And the boy is correct. Theo has no answer. He fucked up (again), and he didn’t know he was fucking up so hard.

But my god, he keeps trying to make up for it. It’s awkward and uncomfortable, but Theo shows up every day to pick him up from school with Perry; he’s even glad Celphi yells at him about killing Perry because that means he’s not turning out to be Therdeo 2.0. Celphi is expressing feelings and opinions and even if they turn the boy against him, so be it - at least it’s coming out. It may be too late for Theo to learn how to express emotions but at least his ward won’t make the same mistakes.

Which is why IT HURTS SO MUCH IN EPISODE 63 TO SEE HIM SO CRESTFALLEN. After suggesting to Perry she stay away from the Lapileon house for a while, she says she will and the dialogue translates to:

“Thank you for your kind consideration.”

THERE ARE THREE - T H R E E - PANELS where his face/expression isn’t shown at all but you can ABSOLUTELY TELL HE’S 360 DEGREES OF ANGUISHED.

This woman - this beacon of hope that he’s come to have feelings for (all the subtle blushing and unseen pining looks have been sprinkled very well throughout the chapters so far) - has just had to go through the ordeal of a trial (along with months of preparation before that) where she had to send her stepmother to 35 years of hard labour, among other things, for the murder of her father. She's just had to reconcile the mother she knew with the killer sitting in the dock, and the cries of a stepsister she once loved. And all this with the knowledge that it's the Lapileons’ blood that ultimately killed her father. There’s a stray thought that poisonous blood or no, her stepmother would have found some way to kill her dad.

But it doesn’t change how it was their blood - his blood - that killed Count Zahardt. It is Lapileon blood that has tortured Perry, the woman responsible for bringing out the best in his adopted son, discovering little Islette and bringing warmth back to this frozen wasteland of a household (to paraphrase Daniel Molton who is a treat of a character, I love him so much).

Yes, he's essentially thrown his immense resources into legal recourse, released her from their obligatory contract, and offered her help in being independent and free from them. He's done many, many things to try and make her current situation comfortable.

Yet the fact remains that she basically rescued so many parts of his life, and he inadvertently destroyed hers. Nothing he does will bring her father back.

Yet she won’t curse him or his family, won’t demand any form of recompense, won’t even give him the cold shoulder, despite everything in her that says she should. Her line “leave me be so I can resent you” is so good and so sad and my HEART disintegrated.

The most ironic thing is that Theo would’ve probably understood that reaction better. The justified reaction would have been to storm and rage at him. He knows what to do with anger.

Instead, she said thank you for your kind consideration.

And he can’t say anything to that as she walks away.

HIS LIFE HAS BEEN AND IS FUCKING SAD. AND IT’S GOING TO GET WORSE.

Episode 64 is already up on Naver and Dodolea is about to do a NUMBER on his ALREADY VERY FRAGILE PSYCHE. What she calls love - and what some of us may have suspected as straightforward obsession for his attentions - is seeming more and more like a love of torturing him, and watching him squirm.

He has to sit for a portrait in the palace (emperor’s orders probably because he just wants to jerk Theo’s chain around), and cannot escape when she comes into the room to sit and watch. There’s no good reason for him to leave, so he just has to grit his teeth and bear it.

And she laughs at his discomfort. She laughs and calls it “cute”.

The rage and fear in his face when she does so is alarming from someone whose poker face is usually immaculate. It sucks so much strength/spirit from him that it alarms Daniel who greets him at the house. I have a feeling that he’s about to just shatter into pieces since Episode 66′s thumbnail has him turned away, lying on a pillow. And then I will shatter, coz this dude CANNOT catch a break.

At some point, I came to the conclusion that Theo was soft-hearted and I cannot tell you when exactly that was. It's testament to how seungu weaves in his quiet charm throughout the chapters so we can see why Perry might possibly fall for him apart from his handsome face (even if at this point, that is the FURTHEST thing from her mind). There are huge things of course like rescuing her from her kidnapping and financing her legal battles.

But the little warm things speak volumes: learning how to dance so he could accompany her to a ball, saying yes immediately when she suggests maybe he could just reply to people, telling the servants to make her special tea when he found out she also had trouble sleeping, bringing a hot water pack(?) to ease her cramps, rushing back for her auction, squeezing her hand as he helps her into the carriage because that’s all he can do after the trial. (seungu did you also watch Pride and Prejudice (2005)? Did you see the hand flex scene and immediately decide to use this? Inquiring minds must know. Also inquiring minds screamed when they first saw that scene becausE HAND TOUCHES ARE GOLD BULLION IN SLOW BURNS) And just his face (?? back of his head?? seungu never gives us any idea what he looks like when he’s in ‘oops fell in love AGAIN’ mode)

BUT SOMEHOW YOU CAN JUST TELL:

They all tell the story of a broken man who has made so many mistakes, but he can be kind and attentive, and tries hard to do what’s right (even if it takes him awhile to figure out what’s right, coz again: he’s Fucked Up). He’s also a socially awkward dork who ignores people at parties coz he doesn't know how to behave as expected. And resembles a really sad puppy when he disappoints Perry.

I could speculate a lot more on what/who the fuck Dodolea actually is and how she’s related to the Lapileon’s curse, but I also know this manhwa has steered some distance away from the webnovel. So I cannot really tell if the plot lines will be similar.

I’ll probably be back after the plot progresses further so I can scream some more. I’ve been shrieking on Twitter but that site is subject to a hungry ghost’s whims and I can’t hide spoilers/rambling behind cuts there. So here it will have to be.

Hang in there, your grace.

#theo lapileon #pereshati jahardt #is this character analysis? plot analysis? the ramblings of a diseased mind??#ALL THREE?#episode 63 sent me into the stratosphere #which is why you get this disorganised tangled mess of word vomit #my in laws are obsessed with me #my in-laws are obsessed with me #MILAOWM #apparently it should have been Theodore Lapileon and Princess Dahlia??#that makes way more sense #OH WELL dodolea is funnier anyway LMAO

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zodiactalks · 23 days

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How FLIRTY Are the Zodiac Girlfriends?

Does it rub you off the wrong way when a woman in a committed relationship still flirts with friends, colleagues, and total strangers? Or do you understand it as a necessary part of socialization?

Perhaps you are wondering if the pretty woman you have your eyes on doesn’t flirt with you because she doesn’t like you or because she simply doesn’t flirt, ever. Or if it means something when a woman flirts with you – does it mean something, or does she flirt with everyone?

Either way, every woman will have a different predisposition towards flirting, and you can find out a lot about this by looking at her Zodiac sign.

Aries

Aries women generally flirt with a purpose. They are not ones to beat around the bush or play games. If you catch her flirting, you can be sure that she intends for something to come out of it, be it casual sex or a romantic relationship. She’s the opposite of the phrase all bark and no bite.

This means that she’s very picky about who she flirts with and when. That said, once she has made the decision to flirt, she’ll be very flirty indeed and won’t hold back. Her intended target will have no doubts about her interest, and she’ll also have a better idea about whether she has a chance with that person.

Level 7/10

Taurus

Despite having Venus, the planet of flirtation, as a ruler, Taurus women are pretty mellow when it comes to flirting. They prefer to do it only when it’s absolutely necessary, to keep their partners interested or to signal to the person that they like that they do, in fact, like them.

Otherwise, they don’t like the fuss of flirting. They much prefer to be the most authentic selves over a bottle of wine with a person they genuinely like.

Level 4/10

Gemini

Gemini women love flirting. It eases the routine and boredom of everyday life. They very rarely flirt out of interest. They might flirt to charm someone who can give them something they need, flirt to ease the tension, or simply flirt because they are bored and the other person was there.

When they are genuinely interested in someone, they might get nervous and flustered and their flirting attempts can fail or come off as awkward. They also love banter and playful insults as a way of flirting, so you’re never quite sure if they are being flirty or just rude.

Level 10/10

Cancer

Cancer women don’t need to flirt. They already know if the person they’re interested in returns their interest or if they should move on. They’ll let you know they are interested in you by staring at you or with random acts of kindness that show that they are observing you and want to look after you.

It’s very rare to find them flirting in more conventional, bold ways, and pretty much impossible to find them flirting if they are not actually interested.

Level 1/10

Leo

Leo women are very flirty indeed. They like to be the center of attention, and flirting with the most influential person in the room can help them be just that. They love fishing for compliments and feeling seen and perhaps even envied by other women.

That said, they do have their pride. If the person they decide to flirt with doesn’t reciprocate, it can really hurt their feelings and they’ll suddenly get aloof.

Level 7/10

Virgo

Virgo women understand the use of flirting, but they dislike it. When they attempt to do it, it can come off as awkward and mechanical. In fact, if a Virgo woman is interested in you, it is far more probable that she will just outright tell you or ask you out.

They’d rather not play games and make their intentions crystal clear. They hate to flirt if it’s not absolutely necessary, and they’ll refrain from doing it if it’s not 100% necessary.

Level 1/10

Libra

Libra women are nothing short of experts when it comes to flirting. They know the ins and outs of it and they play it like it’s a children’s game. They do it when they are interested and just for sport.

They know how to flirt in a benign way to ease out the tension at work or with a person they’ll never see again while they are on holiday. Flirting isn’t just a means to an end for them, it’s an art that can be used for achieving almost anything, as well as just a plain old fun game.

Level 10/10

Scorpio

Scorpio women would rather skip the flirting altogether and jump straight to the honeymoon phase. However, they know flirting is a necessary evil, and they can be really strategic and efficient when it comes to it.

They know how to turn up the heat and become irresistible like no other women in the Zodiac. They are rather sexy and suggestive when they flirt. They tend to stay away from flirting if they don’t intend to date or bed the other party involved.

Level 7/10

Sagittarius

Sagittarius women love the thrill and the adrenaline of flirting. They are among the most likely to do it just to pass the time. They also like casual flings, and they don’t mind if their harmless flirting ends up turning into that.

They are rather light-hearted when it comes to flirting. They wear their hearts on their sleeve and they don’t mind appearing vulnerable. They might make big promises that they don’t intend to keep, or go away without any warning once the fun is over.

Level 9/10

Capricorn

Capricorn women think that flirting is rather childish and superficial. However, they are also pros when it comes to getting what they want, and they understand that in their love and sex lives, getting what they want means flirting. They certainly don’t flirt for fun.

They choose a technique that will work quickly and go with that. Once they are in a committed relationship, they will stop flirting altogether and focus on what really matters to them: their career and the person they chose to be in a relationship with, in that order.

Level 3/10

Aquarius

Aquarius women have a very unique way of flirting. They tend to treat their lovers as if they were their friends. Perhaps you may feel friend zoned by an Aquarius, but she’s actually flirting with you. Flirting is confusing territory for them.

They think they are making themselves very clear, but the other person thinks they are just being a good friend. This can lead to many headaches and miscommunication. Even if they might enjoy the fun of flirting, at the end of the day, it is simply a language that they don’t have a full grasp on.

Level 2/10

Pisces

Pisces women are romantic. They love the games and the fun related to love, and they participate in it rather actively. They can be rather flighty because they don’t even know what they want themselves.

They might make someone believe they want a serious relationship with them, and it turns out they just wanted a bit of fun. They send mixed messages and they love to play games, even if they swear the last thing they want to do is give someone the wrong idea.

Level 9/10

Do you agree with this list?

Or would you rank a Zodiac sign lower or higher?

Does it bother you if women flirt outside a committed relationship, or do you like it when they have flirty, charming personalities?

Tell us what you think in the comments!

#Zodiac #Zodiac Signs #ZodiacFacts #astrology #astrology signs #Aquarius #Aries #Cancer #Capricorn #leo #libra #Sagittarius #Pisces #taurus #scorpio #Gemini #virgo

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sapphyreopal5 · 23 days

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Hi !

First,Thank you for this blog it’s very interesting I like that you don’t sugarcoat it and just say it like it is, I’m the same so here is what I think

Jensen is a professional actor/entertainer, he knows what sells and what people like, he can go overboard , but that’s just how he likes it 200% or nothing.

He’s a shy guy but he he gets the job done as long as he doesn’t offend himself or compromise his values or look tacky or cheap.

He played all sorts of roles regardless of their sexual preference, he has no problem with that.

With dean he started playing straight and he didn’t compromise no matter the pressure/danger he was under (to his wife and kids too)

He’s true to himself while doing his job as an entertainer, which lets face it, it’s all about the pandering even when you don’t feel like it or believe in it yourself, it their livelihood.

At first most of spn fans were either Sam or dean’s stan , then a fraction was created and called themselves bibros and they became loud enough to the actors and creators to see them and try to give them what they want(it’s only fair to please your audience after all)

Misha then came and at first even j2 fans liked him they even read fanfics about him and everything was fine , but when Castiel’s favored dean over sam and Misha had fans and even he himself fell in love with the fanfics about him, then all hell broke loose, fandom wars started, people who loved Cas/M turned on him and the fandom became a war Zone .

I know who started it because I was there from day one but that’s another conversation.

Jensen and jared knew that the brothers relationship was it for them , they both mastered the art of pandering (go to reddit and read what people who worked on the set say about the real atmosphere behind the scenes or in the conventions in general) spoiler alert it was not perfect.

But again it’s their livelihood and they both had undeniable chemistry so they used it ( like any other smart actor would do)

Tinhats thought it was Ok to call Jensen/dean gay for jared/sam (they don’t differentiate between them , I know because I was a bibro/ Tinhat myself)

If jensen dared to hangout with another person man or woman, colleague or not without jared , then he was either covering for them both( hiding in the glass closet) or he was simply betraying jared or was pandering ( like he shouldn’t pander to the other side because they don’t deserve to scraps from their favorite actor.

Jensen was called repeatedly “the king of bibros” because he always, still is all for the brothers.

It was about their relationship , and everything else revolved around them.

She too wanted her chance , started Twwon had her implants because she was going to be a big star ( taking the attention from the real latino star and treating her like a background actor) again a subject for another day lol

Jensen made this show for his wife, he was told that no spin off would take if it didn’t have one of the shows leads in it , so he decided to narrate the thing in order for it to take and stand , it wasn’t enough, they needed ratings and thought if they would bring in dean it would be the perfect addition.

Now the bibro king became the back stabbing friend, the snake , the abusive husband to jared , and to his wife and kids too lol .

Bibros admitted that they were indeed jared’s fans from the get go but they had to pretend to like dean/jensen .

Some bibros are calling him homophobic too btw , because that would prove he was bad in every aspect not just to jared .

Misha was pandering to his own fans , it’s were his money and fame came , and that’s why they do it after all, they do it for the money and fame and it’s a great way to live , anyone saying otherwise can live in lala land for eternity, i don’t care lol .

Now jensen is losing the bibros , the tinhats , the j2 fans and they are all calling him the worst things ever and body shaming him and age shaming him all because his ex tv brother had a tantrum and decided that his fans can do his dirty work, and they as usual didn’t disappoint and according to them he can handle it he has a lot on money he’ll be ok (I agree)

I think it’s was then that jensen decided that fu*k it , I’m going to do whatever makes me feel comfortable, I’ll say my peace, and what’s on my mind , I’m done covering for my so called colleagues (even though he’s known to let things go quickly, he doesn’t like conflict, just Ask jessica alba and MW) he chooses to have fun and concentrate on his own fans for a change.

Misha hid the confession from him for three years (and the rest of the people in management too) and he let it go even though he could have made a tantrum like someone else did , and he would have been in the right because this involved him personally, it’s his hard work for 16 years not just some show he didn’t know about in advance that doesn’t even concern him, but he didn’t he must have done something in private like a professional person would do, but we didn’t hear anything about it .

He’s in the middle of the two biggest ships on spn and no matter what he does or says he’s not going to win with either of them, because they both are going after him and his wife and family on line and in real life ( like at his door step and his daughter’s school too pretending to be one of the parents)

How to pander to one side without losing your life or reputation ( they both now call him the worst of names , homophobia included by both sides)

Sorry this took so long, there’s more if you’re interested I’ve been here since dool and I witnessed everything.

Hello Anon, thank you for stopping by and discussing this like an adult. I appreciate seeing your ask even if it takes a moment to read. Your post touched onto a lot of things even some of which I didn't really dive into to tell you the truth. I joined this fandom via joining Tumblr late December 2022 close to January 2023. I'm open to receiving any and all information provided it's based on facts not based on blind opinions or simply "so and so said so" kind of deal.

Some bibros are calling him homophobic too btw , because that would prove he was bad in every aspect not just to jared . He’s a shy guy but he he gets the job done as long as he doesn’t offend himself or compromise his values or look tacky or cheap. He played all sorts of roles regardless of their sexual preference, he has no problem with that.

He’s a shy guy but he he gets the job done as long as he doesn’t offend himself or compromise his values or look tacky or cheap. He played all sorts of roles regardless of their sexual preference, he has no problem with that.

He’s true to himself while doing his job as an entertainer, which lets face it, it’s all about the pandering even when you don’t feel like it or believe in it yourself, it their livelihood.

If you didn't see I got a little heated with someone who insisted the dictionary is wrong with what homophobia means because "authors use it this way" and claimed people don't actually fear gay people, which is 100% not true. Some people genuinely fear homosexual people, it's just fact. I agree with you, no matter what Jensen says or does these days it's going to upset people. One thing is certain, this fandom is so divided these days it's crazy. I also do not think Jensen is at all homophobic nor do I think he discriminates against LGBT people. He has what we call boundaries and that's that. "Destiel doesn't exist" and getting annoyed at Destiel questions from people who KNOW his stance on it are in my opinion just looking for an argument.

When the show ended and the actors went their separate ways and started to hang out with their families/friends/colleagues , jensen in general keeps his friends from all those years, he keeps in touch and keeps them around , I think his wife convinced him that the spn world still had a chance, she wanted to do something ( her turn after waiting all those years, as did gen) She too wanted her chance , started Twwon had her implants because she was going to be a big star ( taking the attention from the real latino star and treating her like a background actor) again a subject for another day lol

Okay I am not going to lie here, I am curious about the highlighted tidbit here and why you think this was to detract attention from who I assume is Lindsey (or Odette)? As for The Winchesters, don't get me started on that disaster they call a show....

Bingo... It was all about the money for Misha this entire time. Otherwise, he wouldn't have nearly this many vocal fans if he didn't pander to the hellers and Destiel shippers.

Tinhats thought it was Ok to call Jensen/dean gay for jared/sam (they don’t differentiate between them , I know because I was a bibro/ Tinhat myself) If jensen dared to hangout with another person man or woman, colleague or not without jared , then he was either covering for them both( hiding in the glass closet) or he was simply betraying jared or was pandering ( like he shouldn’t pander to the other side because they don’t deserve to scraps from their favorite actor.

I believe this is still 100% true to this day Anon. I really do. I can understand why like 10 years ago or more many thought they were in a relationship but today, it's kinda silly. They are busy living separate lives in separate states now. Jared even said recently they see each other a lot... at Supernatural conventions and still text a lot. Not a whole lot of actually seeing each other anymore from what it sounds like to me. Plus, when is the last time they actually hung out together outside of being in the same hotel/area for a Supernatural convention?

Thanks for sending this in Anon, I really would love to hear more from you!

EDIT: I re-read your ask and also want to know more about this tidbit.

I heard of someone taking photos outside of their kids' schools but did someone actually do this?! This fandom, man.... the level people stoop to here....

#Anon answered #anti jensen hate

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deanwinchesterswitch · 4 months

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December 2023 Monthly Fic Recs

Well, December went out quietly for me which I was perfectly fine with. Glad 2023 is done.

Several different fandoms on this list. Great stories - and not all of them are Christmas fics. :)

Enjoy!

Many of these blogs and fics are NSFW-18+. Please honor any requests from a blog regarding no minors. I am not responsible for the content you choose to consume; heed the warnings for each fic.

~MCU~

Cookies and Hints ~ @navybrat817. Author's Summary: Bucky tries to get hints about his gifts as you bake together.

No Title ~ @navybrat817. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Touched ~ @wayward-and-worn. Author's Summary: The days of Bucky “James” Buchanan Barnes’ recovery in Wakanda. He’s been de-programmed and given his Vibranium arm. In his days of recovery and therapy he met someone that has piqued his interest in a way that reminds him of when he wasn’t the Winter Soldier. He has set his sights on her and finally has a chance to be near. As near as he can get.

~Miscellaneous~

Midnight ~ @kittenofdoomage. Author's Summary: New Year’s Eve brings a surprise at the end of a crappy year. (female!reader (Y/N) x unnamed male)

~RPF~

Smokin' In The Green Room ~ @impala-dreamer. Author's Summary: Settle in for a pre-show party as you relax with Jensen and Rob in the Green Room before a concert.

~Supernatural~

Christmas by Dashboard Light ~ @impala-dreamer. Author's Summary: Stranded by the side of the road, Dean and Y/N still find a way to enjoy Christmas Eve

Couldn't Resist ~ @wayward-dreamer. Author's Summary: Y/N can’t resist Dean when he’s wearing a suit.

“(Don’t) Hurry Down The Chimney Tonight” ~ @talltalesandbedtimestories. Author's Summary: Dean saved Reader from the supernatural on Christmas Eve years ago. Every Christmas since, she has always found a way to show her unending appreciation.

Imagine…Decorating The Bunker ~ @luci-in-trenchcoats. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Dean x Reader)

Imagine getting caught in the rain with Dean... ~ @supernaturalfreewill. Author's Summary: None (Drabble)

Just Thought You Should Know ~ @smellingofpoetry. Author's Summary: It was just one of those drunk calls until it wasn’t anymore.

No Title ~ @supernaturalfreewill. Author's Summary: None (Drabble; Dean Winchester x Reader)

Recreational Recreation ~ @wayward-and-worn. Author's Summary: Dean fondly remembers the first time they were “together.” Sort of. Rather than simply reminiscing, he proposes fully revisiting that moment. Who is she to argue?

We Don't Really Do Christmas ~ @octoberclidan. Author's Summary: None (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Wicked Desire ~ @impala-dreamer. Author's Summary: There’s never any promise in a one-night stand, never any certainty when you catch a stranger’s eye. It’s dangerous, but there was never any question when Dean asked you to join him for a drink…

~Ten Inch Hero~

Code Red ~ @zepskies. Author's Summary: When you call him for help, Priestly realizes that he finally has the relationship of his dreams.

~The Walking Dead~

Queen ~ @wayward-and-worn. Author's Summary: She disobeyed him. And Negan makes a point to put her in her place.

~On Patreon~

Rebekah Jordan (Impala-Dreamer)

Temptation & Consequences ~ Author’s Summary: Jensen has been busy all weekend at the convention, leaving little time for fun with his girl. Luckily, Y/N knows how to get his attention... and more...

thinkinghardhardlythinking

Close to Home-Parts 2 and 3 ~ Author’s Summary: Y/N and Dean are neighbours, and friends. The thing is Dean is a ladies’ man and she has always known it, if he wasn’t, maybe he’d be the ideal guy…but his eye for the ladies, how well they work as friends, as well as the fact that he’d never even think of her that way, all means that they are meant to be just neighbours and friends. Doesn’t it?

#monthly fic recs #fabulous writers #dw's witch reads #december 2023 #010124

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dolphin1812 · 11 months

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I love how we just casually learn that Fauchelevent became famous in the Vatican for this burial.

Starting with Cosette was so devastating, though. She may be a bit better because she’s spent time with Valjean rather than the Thénardiers, but how rapidly she reverts to “crisis” mode- where she shuts down and doesn’t speak - is horrifying. Her abuse is still recent, and with a stressful night (they’d just escaped Javert) and the threat of the Thénardiers, it’s no wonder she returns to the “lark” who doesn’t sing as a way of maintaining her safety. I wonder if these events are linked to why the prioress says she’ll grow up “ugly.” It could be a literal statement; the convent doesn’t prize beauty, so its pupils aren’t going to be made to look beautiful. It’s also praise in that she thinks that’ll push her to be a nun (”girls who are conscious of their beauty do not easily become nuns”). But it could also be a reminder that while Cosette was beautiful as a toddler (because Fantine gave her everything), years of deprivation and fear have taken away that beauty. Jean Valjean has helped her heal a bit, but it’s likely that she still doesn’t look well, especially after 24 tear-filled hours without food or sleep. And this was heartbreaking:

“ But when, at the expiration of these lugubrious twenty-four hours, she beheld Jean Valjean again, she gave vent to such a cry of joy, that any thoughtful person who had chanced to hear that cry, would have guessed that it issued from an abyss.”

I’m glad she’s with him again and that she felt so glad in that moment, but I wish that she hadn’t been deprived of that security for so long.

I was also interested in this ending passage:

“Nothing of this triumph reached Fauchelevent in his hut; he went on grafting, weeding, and covering up his melon beds, without in the least suspecting his excellences and his sanctity. Neither did he suspect his glory, any more than a Durham or Surrey bull whose portrait is published in the London Illustrated News, with this inscription: “Bull which carried off the prize at the Cattle Show.”“

It’s telling that even though Fauchelevent’s fame reaches the Pope, it doesn’t actually affect him. What does impact him is the reputation he gains with people closer to him: the convent trusts him more, Valjean appreciates his help and works with him, and Gribier is grateful as well. The Pope may be important, but Fauchelevent’s local impact is felt more by these people and by him. His ties with his community, then, take precedence over his fame, despite his community being nuns and the working class and his fame extending to the highest rank in Catholicism (of course, part of this is that no one in the convent is going to tell him this - he’s very isolated from outside information - but it also demonstrates how these local bonds can be more important than fame and status).

The comparison between Fauchelevent and a prize bull brings us back to the nuns’ image of him as a faithful laborer, as if he were a “farm animal” who simply obeyed their commands well rather than a person with his own schemes. Ironically, we know that he did what the nuns wanted in what would be, to them, the worst way possible: he did bury the coffin outside like they wished, but he also sheltered a man in the convent and used that coffin meant for a nun to help him legitimize his place there. Seeing him as a “prize bull” does recognize his value as a worker, but they’re able to imagine him like that because they underestimate his cleverness.

#les mis letters #lm 2.8.8 #jean valjean #cosette #fauchelevent

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darklinsblog · 2 years

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Chapter XI | Sweet Distraction

Summary: At the cereal convention Y/N is ambushed by Desire and The Corinthian.

Pairing: Morpheus x Celestial Reader

Warnings: Angst

Chapter List

Hectic was a very simple way to describe the last couple of days, having learned about the vortex that was Rose Walker had Morpheus stressed and irritated, he had demanded a child as his right, he had mistreated Lucienne, everything seemed to be upside down.

You went to check in on Lucienne, before going off to the “cereal convention” who was fuming in her every step, but she seemed to ease at the sight of you.

“Just wanted to see how you were holding up” you said making her smile softly.

“You don’t need to worry, it was simply foolish of me to think Lord Morpheus could change” it was more than evident from her tone she was still hurt and angry.

“He can change Lu, we’ve seen it. He just has a hard time with his emotions that’s all, but that doesn’t diminish the love and respect he holds for you” the librarian thought of your words quietly finding comfort in them.

“You are a good friend, Y/N” she said, you hugged her goodbye before saying.

“Everything will be better from now on, I promise!”

If only Lucienne had been told that would be the last time she saw you as you were, cheerful, positive and full of hope, she would’ve held you a little bit tighter for much longer.

When you reached the convention you offered Rose help to find his brother who was on the loose in a place packed with murderers, certainly not the ideal place for a little boy.

“You go this way, I go that way” you instructed her thinking breaking apart would give you more chances on finding Jed.

You went down on each and every corridor you came across, calling out his name for what seemed like hours until your ears pricked at hearing Jed’s voice.

Finally you reached a lonely room with a recording of Jed’s voice, when turning around you saw The Corinthian closing the door and putting the lock, Desire appeared from the shadows holding Pandora’s box in their hands.

Out of reflex your wings showed, your hardened expression made Desire chuckle.

“Hostile… I see what my brother likes you” they teased.

“Let me go, Cory” this time you spoke directly at the Corinthian appealing to all the years you had known each other.

“I can, but I won’t”

“Your pretty feathers won’t do you any good and you know it” Desire said, stepping closer to you, you looked around finding the windows were sealed, even if you got to the top breaking the glass would take too long a feeling of despair and anxiety ran through you.

“The only way out here is through that door, sweet face. Now let me tell you how this is going to work, I will open this lovely box and you are going to take all this evil inside you”

“And if I don’t?”

“We open that door and let loose all the evil out in the world again… just imagine the chaos that will be, of course everything could be traced back to your sweet Dream, that would be devastating, would it not?”

Desire was circling you as they spoke, delighted to see your conflicted expression, you didn’t know for sure what consuming Pandora’s box will do to you, but you knew what could happen if you didn’t and you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself knowing you had let this happen, the Waking World and The Dreaming rested on your shoulders now.

It was scary to realize you didn’t have a choice in this, there was only bad or worse. What kind of person would you be if you let everything Morpheus’ protected be destroyed?

Knowing what you had to do now didn’t make it any easier. You didn’t even say a word, but the tears on your eyes let both accomplices know you would do what was best for everyone but yourself.

Because that was your true nature, or at least it used to be.

Desire made a sign to The Corinthian and he got behind you, holding your arms down, out of reflex you tried to squirm away.

“Hope you don’t mind, but this is just ensure you will stay as still as possible, after all this will hurt a ton” Desire opened your mouth, looking into your eyes.

“Is he truly worth all this bother?” The Corinthian asked you, your jaw clenched. Of course he was but you wouldn’t give either of them the satisfaction of hearing it, because they couldn’t possibly understand.

No one could.

At your lack of response Desire got close to your ear, saying one last thing to you

“This shouldn’t be as hard, from what I’ve heard you love to have your mouth full…” then Desire kissed your cheek, leaving their red lipstick tinted on, selling your fate.

The Endless slowly opened Pandora’s box and a dense black smoke came out, immediately entering you, almost as if those evils knew they were once meant to be part of you.

Your whole body tensed and contorted in indescribable pain, your veins were turning black and if you could you would’ve screamed your lungs out, as you felt every cell in your body aching, your body was burning from the inside out, your head was filled with thousands of voices, screams, sorrows.

It all happened incredibly fast but slow at the same time, if the Corinthian wasn’t holding you down you would’ve fell to your knees.

Terrifying as it was you felt yourself molding to all the sickness, death and beyond. Cruelly you were almost ripped from your essence, corrupted to your core, you felt completely hollow as all that once made you who you were evaporated.

Suddenly all those evils were part of you, you were hearing voices, feeling yourself awfully heavier as you could only see red. Quite literally everything around you seemed to have a red lens.

Breathing heavily, you no longer felt as you once were, you had to look at your hands to ensure you still had human form, because you could’ve sworn you were turning into a beast.

You looked up at Desire, with an intoxicating feeling of hatred, you opened your mouth to say something but you were abruptly stopped as a blinding pain went from your chest up your throat compelling you to let out a loud piercing scream.

The Dream Lord recognized your agonizing voice and attempted to follow it, but as he reached the specific room he thought it was coming from he only saw an empty room and a few pieces of shattered glass with droplets of blood in them, the window had been broken.

Mad as it was, he had a feeling Desire had something to do with this and The Corinthian had probably had some participation to this as he mentioned you before being uncreated.

“Give my greetings to Y/N” he had said.

In any case, he had to pay a visit to the mischievous sibling as he had learned recently that Desire had created the vortex situation by using Unity, he had almost killed his niece and he had to stop whatever plans Desire intended to have with you.

Reaching the realm of Desire they seemed awfully thrilled to receive Dream, they had shamefully admitted their fault in the situation with Rose Walker, Morpheus couldn’t comprehend how detached Desire could be, humans were not toys to play with at will, the Endless were made at the service of humanity, not the other way around.

“…Remember that next time you feel inspired to interfere in my affairs” Morpheus’ said walking away Desire smiled wickedly knowing it was time to let in on their last blow.

“Oh Dream! Would you give this to Y/N?” Desire threw the small box in Morpheus’ direction, his heart dropped when he picked the item and inspected it carefully.

“What is this?” He asked even as they both knew perfectly well what Morpheus was holding.

“Just a souvenir” Desire purred with malice making his brother’s blood go cold prettified as to what this meant, he could only fear the worse.

“What have you done, Desire?” His siblings sighed, feeling content with her actions.

“I would go and check on her, if I were you” Desire said with a pout pretending to feel worried, Morpheus’ threw the box across the room and left the place, knowing Desire wasn’t the priority now.

“LUCIENNE!” You screamed bursting inside the library, it was hard to even remain standing, your body was incapable of holding its own weight as you stumbled and fell.

Lucienne hurried to you, not believing the image she was seeing, you had cuts in your arms, your wings were turning darker almost like a lightbulb burning out, you were wincing in pain, your hands were tinted black. Not even with all her years of knowledge could the librarian explain what was happening to you.

The only thing she could do was try and embrace you as you were squirming in pain, you were unable to form any words.

“Please talk to me, Y/N!” she urged as you hit your head with your hands, haunted by all the voices. You were Lucienne’s dearest friend and it was killing her to see you like this not knowing how to help you.

“Y/N! Where are you?” You could hear Morpheus’ voice at the distance, the last bit of your old self that you had left practically compelled to stand.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Lucienne asked, slightly scared.

“He can’t… see me like… this!” You choked up as you ran inside the palace, you ran so quickly Morpheus barely felt you brush past him. Him and Lucienne shared a look and he knew this was worse than he could have anticipated.

He ran after you, seeing you stumble upon the walls completely disoriented.

The corridor felt like a never ending pathway to nothingness, you could hear him call out for you just one or two feet away, your head was spinning, pounding.

As you almost reached the doorknob you fell to your knees, completely exhausted all your body could give was given and beyond.

With hazy eyes you could barely differentiate Morpheus face, even if he was right in front of you.

His eyes were filled with tears as he tried to talk to you, he was trying to hold your face, but you refused as you pushed him away with incredible force for someone who seemed at the edge of unconsciousness.

But Morpheus was undoubtedly stronger and it was easy to overpower you.

“What have they done to you?” He asked utterly mortified. You were turning gray, your wings had lost all its glow, your arms were tinted black, your body was shutting off on its own.

Something felt like it was building inside you, intoxicating you and whatever it was you needed to protect him, so you pushed him away with a strength that didn’t seem yours, having him far enough for you to get inside the room and shut the door behind you.

Soon Morpheus’ was banging on the door, making your headache ten times worse as you covered your ears and screamed.

“Y/N LET ME IN!” He exclaimed worried while also attempting to kick the door down, but your weight prevented him from doing so.

“GO AWAY!” you replied with a roughness in your voice it was impossible to recognize.

Beyond that point you couldn’t hear a thing, as the darkness consumed you fully, the whole realm froze as your piercing screams echoed in The Dreaming and beyond.

After that, the Dreaming was left in stony silence as the old you was buried under the world’s evil, allowing a darker version of you to rise to the surface.

Taglist: @boofy1998 @meganmayhem89 @sandmanraven @deniixlovezelda @maramunsonkay @theamuz @pinksirensong @majorcath @aurorarevenclaw1927 @adishax @emiemiemiii @captainmarvels-blog @intothesoul @igotanidea

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gorgeousklaystels · 10 months

Text

All I can taste is this moment

(And all I can breathe is your life).

There he was again. Somehow Calvin fucking Harris had managed to piss Harry Styles off more times than he could count. Which was strange considering he’d only met the guy for two seconds and had one civil (ish) conversation with him.

And he was not a fan.

He was biased. I mean, how could he not be. On the surface level, it was hard to compete with such a great guy who was not only successful but also didn’t have a crazy, immature fanbase that gravely interfered in his personal relationships.

And as grateful as Harry was, from where he was sitting, that seemed like a pretty killer deal. No wonder Taylor was happy with him.

But he doesn’t know. Something about the guy rubbed him the wrong way.

“Can we leave now, for crying out loud?” Harry said, coming back to the bar, absolutely having no energy left to deal with this whole situation.

Louis, seeing his best friend’s face, simply nodded. “Of course. But, just… hold on a second.” With that he got up and rounded up the gang.

Harry thought about joining him, but if he was being honest with himself, the night had pretty much drained him. And he just needed a minute to himself.

Eventually, he saw Kendall in the distance again and she made his way over to him and they continued talking.

She asked him where he went earlier and he simply told her that him and Taylor took a walk and had just started talking.

She doesn’t push it even if she doesn’t completely believe it.

—

“Jesus Christ, Louis, where in hell did you disappear to?” Harry asked, once he saw Louis stride towards him.

“Sorry, mate. It’s just… Niall and Ed really wanted to take one last picture in the photobooth and—”

“—Without me?”

“Harry, did you honestly want to be smushed up against Taylor and her boyfriend making out for the 50th time?” He inquired, annoyed.

That stung. A lot.

“No. No, I really didn’t.” He said, completely serious.

“What I thought. Alright, listen, just get in the car outside, I’ll round up the rest of the guys.” Louis said before running off.

—-

They got to their hotel rooms that night. Niall was absolutely buzzed. Liam and Louis — slightly better — had helped Niall up the stairs after much struggle.

Small moments like these really made Harry realize that they were one member short. He could picture the moment in front of him. Zayn and Harry silently laughing to themselves about having to drag up one of the guys.

—

He woke up the next morning, and he could definitely feel the hangover.

More than that, he could also remember them. And God, he hated this. He hated this constant state of misery he was in. It was downright pathetic.

Harry got up that day, reluctantly, ready to take on the world.

Maybe not in the conventional Happy-Go-Lucky Harry fashion, but it was a start.

—

New York. He was in New York.

And from what he’d heard, so was she. It was like he just couldn’t escape her, even if he wanted to.

It had been a month since the BBMAS and Harry was holding up fine. Better.

But with them, it was like a cycle, wasn’t it? Some way, somehow, he’d be getting over her and then he’d see her at an award show they were attending.

And it’s just impossible to resist her pull. Not just as his ex girlfriend who he genuinely adores but as an artist. At what she does. It’s hard not to be pulled in.

But that same spotlight held him back from trying to get her back or heck, even interacting with her in public.

Harry woke up that day as he had rehearsal with the band along with a writing session too.

When he arrived at the recording studio, he saw the boys as well as the sound technicians, the producers and all. But he also spotted their manager in a not so friendly conversation with some of the guys.

“—All I’m saying is that you should have at least talked to him about it beforehand—”

“—this is a great opportunity for the band, Louis. We can’t let it slip.”

“Yeah, but there’s no point if Harry isn’t in on the plan, is it?” Louis replied.

He fixed the collar of his shirt and simply responded. “Well, he’s just going to have to cooperate.”

And with that he left after a few instructions here and there.

Harry glanced around the room, looking at Niall, Liam and Louis. They looked at him but they didn’t tell him anything.

“Hey. Um, what was that about?” Harry asked, casually.

“Oh. Uh. You know how Jeff is. He’s just a little harsh in his ways. But he means well.” Louis told him, patting his shoulder.

“…okay. D’you want to get to work then?” He asked, unsure.

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

—

“She’s here.” He heard Louis whisper.

“Who?” Harry inquired.

“Niall, Liam, a minute?” Louis requested.

“What are you guys doing? Does this have something to do with what Jeff said?” He stood up, irritated with the weird secrecy.

“Well—”

“—Hey, guys.” A voice interrupted.

Not just a voice. Her.

Taylor.

A/N: sorry! ik this is extremely short, but i wanted to see if you guys were interested in the direction i was thinking of making this go, so i would LOVE some opinions and i promise i’ll be more active ! i’m on vacation hence the slow update <3

#harry styles #taylor swift #divorced parents #my parents <3 #babies <3 #fanfiction #haylor fanfiction #i love them #harry and taylor #boost #viral

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cosmosgroundhogday · 2 years

Text

Why the DHMIS youtube series is centred around ASD (autism), entirely based around just the songs for now

All three of the main guys show so many ‘tism traits

- all hate change at different points

- every single song relates to a different ‘tism symptom/trait/stereotype

The Creativity Song

- children with ASD are a lot more likely to display a deep sense of creativity and imagination

- they often show lower performance in creativity as it’s all in the brain and unable to express it

- which is essentially the entire song

- the notebook (social rules) is explaining to the three guys how to be creative, limiting what they’re allowed to do, and everything they suggest themselves is told wrong

- yellow guy paints a clown ridiculously quickly and he’s told to “slow down” and destroys the painting (destroying autistic kid’s creativity because what they can express is usually entirely outside of the primary school education)

- the childish primary school activities that ensue that they keep doing “wrong”

- “green is not a creative colour” (this feels like a long shot but there’s the primary media theory that essentially because he doesn’t pick a primary colour like red guy chooses blue and green guy chooses red, he’s not following the primary education, and so this can link to growing up too fast which is a thing a lot of tism kids are forced to do, so yellow guy is ‘mature for his age’ choosing green, and obviously notebook is not happy)

- and then the whole chaos that ensues is mostly the horror aspect, if I can get some film analysis in during a rewatch i shall

The Time Song

- it’s more an adhd trait but it happens in asd too, simply just the disassociation from time

- also obsessive schedules, as to not lose the concept of time

- “an old man died but look a computer”, theorised as the clock keeping the guys from thinking about death to lure them into whatever horror he’s got in store, however what about the fact that autistic people while more empathetic than neurotypical will often not be effected by the concept of human death unless they know them, (idk how much sense that makes but say a cat died that you never knew, that’s sad, but a human dies that you never knew, no feelings, obviously people you know it’s a different story a lot of the time but hopefully you know what i mean)

- the entire scheduling, with fish and bath, forcing of schedules so you don’t lose track of time, cuz often people with asd won’t eat unless they think about the time as hunger isn’t something they will always feel

The Love Song

- my absolute favourite and jesus christ there’s a LOT

- so the yellow guy is aroace, poly, and autistic, and it all shows in this song

- he calls a butterfly a “little baby pigeon”, this is tism in itself

- the first part of a song is literally about how people are ‘different’ and in an ideal world it wouldn’t make a difference and they should live in harmony

- PLEASE

- I can quote every single line in this song and go “THIS IS AUTISM”

- autistic people obviously can feel love, but it’s another concept like gender that in most cases is so much more confusing

- “no it’s a feeling deep inside” “because I’m hungry” - !!!!!!!

- by the end of the song monogamous marriage begins being displayed like a cult

- why would you demonise monogamy in a show like this?

- apart from maybe the fact most autistic people are polyamorous

- because, social rules aren’t real

- and humans are biologically polyamory

- it’s just social conventions that make us monogamous

- but when you’re autistic

- you’re more likely to ignore that

- so

- you see where i’m going :)

- “he’s made for her and she’s made for him that’s the way it’s always been”

- and so ensues feeding Malcolm gravel

- monogamy is a cult

- autistic people >>>>>

The Computer Song

- the biggest metaphor for gifted kid burnout I’ve ever seen

- the way autistic people are treated robotically and praised for enhanced mental abilities as everything about them just b r e a k s

- gifted kids are very clever-y guys

- they can count to a ‘fifty in the blink of an eye

- and paint a picture

- and they can tell you the time

- also the fact that autistic kids are more drawn to technology and being ✨online✨ as an escape from the real world

- red guy being incredibly against change is another thing that’s going on

- the ‘digital home’ could essentially be an autistic brain

- not feeling 🥰real🥰

- wow, look a pie chart

- digital style

- do a digital dancing

- so basically most gifted kids thrived in maths, not always but it’s the main stereotyped one

- the same three being repeated

- eventually “wow look nothing”, the burnout has become

- your skills are gone

- what you gonna do now?

- keep opening the door for it to come back?

- nothing

- it all speeds up and eventually unplugged

- just

- burnout :)

The Healthy Song

- metaphor for ARFID, an ED that’s associated with autism

- as I said I’m not rewatching the actual episodes yet so I’m going entirely off what I remember (which isn’t a lot cuz I hated this episode with a passion) and the song on a spotify playlist

- the explanation of hunger at the start, which is something confusing in autistic people

- pretty sure the can and the other lad will only let the guys eat plain food in little amounts and claims that’s ‘healthy’

- also the explanation of the body as a house, it’s just all very confusing which is a metaphor in itself

- even though ARFID is an ED around the texture of foods and not amounts it still kind of makes sense??

- this one’s a bit of a stretch

- but bread, cream, and plain white sauce keeps the body ticking over??

- that’s limited flavour and texture

- fancy show-offy foods like cooked meats, fruit salads, soil food and yolk is bad

- too much flavour and texture

- but then eventually even plain white sauce is bad

- having a comfort food so much you can’t touch it anymore

- but it’s hard to find a replacement

The Dreams Song

- this one bored me when I used to watch the series

- and I can’t tell a lot from the song apart from it reflects on the entire series

- so

- idk

- but they all have autism and it’s different trait from the spectrum every episode

#dhmis show #dhmis youtube #dhmis #dhmis theory #dhmis sketchbook #dhmis yellow guy #dhmis red guy #dhmis green guy #dhmis love cult #dhmis computer

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