#how in the fuck does that make any sense???
Note
I had a similar reaction on first listen—my gut was like HOW could she write such touching things about THAT 🤮 MAN🤮 but as I’ve sat with it, the touching things are all about the idea of him! And there are glimpses of her being in deep denial delulu (see: I can fix him, “no I’m not coming to my senses!”). I also think back on her time POTY quote “I respond to extreme pain with defiance.” It’s so hard to see something for what it is in the middle of it. Esp if it would unravel a belief system!
I feel like a lot of people find this album particularly hard to digest because they get stuck on the thought of these song's purported muses and their preconceived opinions about them and can't get past their discomfort in how this art sprung from those sources.
And that hurdle is just the first in a long line of subtext in these songs that inherently make Poets an album that you have to sit with. This album is not meant to be digested easily or quickly.
She's manic and an unreliable storyteller. But the feelings she's expressing really did happen to her and she truly sincerely believed in the moment. And even when she was in it, everything was still built up in her head as this idealized fulfillment of the 'fate' storyline she'd told herself she deserved and was finally living out. Sex is intimacy. And then it's not even very good or actually really intimate. Nothing is happening the way she thought. Everything she ever told herself since she was a little girl about fairytales and love is fucking fake. Maybe this is happening to you because you're a monster. If I keep trying to be good and perform I can get it back. Why did I leave him for ... him? Why did he then leave me? Did anyone ever really love me? Do I love myself? What does this even say about me as a person? I really am fucked up and horrible. What was I thinking? How could I have believed any of that? Am I crazy?
And on and on and on.
Literally more than any other album Taylor has written do you have to not just listen to the words she's saying but contextualize the circumstances she's saying them in and how she might even feel about them now.
And if you don't like it I can't emphasize enough how okay that is.
222 notes
·
View notes
Note
Enha with a pillow princess or a strictly sub gf?
⭒ pillow princess, sub reader (fem), suggestive content under cut mdni
⭒ c's note: foaming at the mouth. reblogs are appreciated!
⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @enhabooks
being heeseung's pillow princess is a rollercoaster of emotions. he can be mean and a menace, i'm pretty sure he likes seeing you cry, dacryphilia if you will. this man will do anything in his hands to have you shaking and screaming underneath him. how could he avoid it? you're just so much smaller than him. he can wreck you any time. but then he does a 180 turn, and he's over here all over you, kissing you and hugging you.
now, being jay's pillow princess is literally having the whole world at your feet. i would kill to be his pillow princess but that's besides the point. this man is head over heels for you. your, eyes, your smile, your body. he'd take such good care of you and would reassure you all the time he's making you his. jay never fails to remind you how extraordinary you are, and that you're his.
jake in my opinion loves giving head, so your core would be the one getting all the attention. he's pussy drunk in the literal sense that he must have a taste of your pussy at least once a day. he loves to see you arch your back when his nose hits your clit as he's tongue fucking you. quite literally the best thing that has ever happened in his damn life.
i feel like sunghoon is a very messy and rough dom, so being his pillow princess means he'll quite literally treat you like a sex doll. he'll spit, slap, dirty talk, all that stuff. he loves being in full control, and he has a size kink!! seeing how his hands can take in almost all of your waist has him going absolutely feral. good luck.
#— ✿ c's work!#enhypen#engene#enhypen smut#enhypen hard hours#kpop#hard hours#kpop smut#enhypen heeseung#enhypen jay#enhypen jake#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen x reader#heeseung smut#jay smut#jake smut#sunghoon smut
269 notes
·
View notes
Text
I just can't get over the whole obsession with "Kremlin Bots/Psyops" like do these people realise how fucking stupid they sound? Like they are so insanely parochial, so hopelessly indoctrinated into the principles of the US American Civil Religion, that they just refuse fathom anyone having a moral and rational reason to oppose their nation and its institutions. Like debating over the minor stuff is normal and the sign that you're an intelligent and free thinker, but the second the criticisms start hitting a little too hard then clearly you have to be some malevolent foreign agent who has been paid or created purely to lead good americans astray. Like you can really smell the cultural Christianity because it's literally no different from all the preachers who denounce any opponents of Christian supremacy as agents of Satan himself. It's just a dumb trick to protect your brain from uncomfortable thoughts about the beliefs you hold and the systems you support and the implications this has to your personal sense of moral superiority.
And ironically enough, repeating this stupid cliche in fact makes you sound like some sort of robot or some agent of the US state. But although US government does indeed make use of bots to spread propaganda on social media, on a site like tumblr the vast majority of accounts saying this sort of thing are very much real; they just belong to chauvinist and willingly ignorant liberals who've taken it upon themselves to do that work for free. It would be nice if they found another hobby though; even if you love the US empire you have to admit that this sort of thing is never very convincing. Sometimes they're funny, mostly they're annoying, but I think it would be in everyone's best interest if all the "vote blue" drones just shut the fuck up
180 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi, hello, it's me again! How are you? I have a rather odd request (at least from my perspective) that I don't actually see much of.
Trans ftm Dew x Swiss? Pretty please? I haven't seen much of it, at least with Swiss that is
-🌟
Hi hi! Sorry it’s been a while, but I’ve saved this for mushy may!
I’m doing well my icon. Not an odd request at all! (But I do love and encourage odd) and obv we love trans ghouls over here
Day 8- sex turning into making love - Swissdew
As always thank you to @forlorn-crows for the prompts and @ghuleh-recs for the banner (:
Warnings for a small amount of degro. This is smut. But obv Swiss is super sweet at the end ok I promise it turns into fluff
There were certain things about Swiss that dew tended to crave.
A sick need for a harsh and loving hand, to be made to feel small, lesser. To be put out of his own head and taken care of when he felt especially out of control of himself. Dew liked to fight for it, so he himself didn’t have to admit he needed help. And Swiss always knew exactly what he needed. He was always there to force him into submission when dew couldn’t disassemble that roadblock himself.
“Maybe if you didn’t whine like a bitch droplet I wouldn’t have to treat you like one” Swiss laughed, watching as dew squirmed when Swiss ran two fingers along his folds. The slightest touch to his clit made him clench and screw his eyes shut, sensitive and already abused.
It’s how Swiss always got him before allowing dew the privilege of being actually fucked. Writhing, begging to be full but shying away from any contact because it was always borderline too much. Dew loved it, needed to be forced out of his head and put at Swiss’ mercy in order to genuinely stop thinking for an hour or two.
“Think you’ve earned it yet?” Swiss coos, sucking on dews release that threatened to drip down his fingers. “Are you dumb enough to get my cock yet baby boy?”
“Please-“ dew moaned, strangled and barely coherent.
Swiss can’t deny him like this. Hes pretty, spread out and desperate. Small tears cling to his lashes and threaten to fall down his face as he digs his fists into the bed sheets when Swiss finally pushes in.
There’s always a strange sense of pride that wells in Swiss’ chest when he has dew in his bed. He’s more than glad dew trusts him enough to let go of his own ego and inhibitions to allow Swiss to be in control. He deserves to be taken care of, even if dew usually insisted he enjoyed being somewhat of a loner when it came to needing anything.
“God you’re beautiful like this dew” Swiss mumbles when he bottoms out before he can think twice about it. His tone is calm, loving, a gentleness that isn’t expected and leaves dew feeling dizzier than he already was.
“What?”
“You’re just -“ Swiss starts, staring down at dew with what can only be described as infatuation.
The harsh grip on dews hips soften, thumbs soothing over the more than likely bruised skin. His hands more than engulf his waist, just slightly kneading into where they hold him.
“I love you, you know that?” Swiss pulls out, watching as dew gasps and throws a palm over his mouth to stifle his whine. He leans over to kiss dew on the chest, trailing up along his neck. Dews thighs are pushed up against his abdomen, practically bending him in half as Swiss starts to fuck him in earnest.
“Kiss me- Swiss please need your lips” dew whimpers as his hands tangle in Swiss’ locs for some sense of grounding. Swiss happily obliges, capturing dews mouth with his own.
Their lips slot together perfectly, dew tasting of smoke and spice as he always does. Something about the neediness in how sloppy dew forces his mouth onto Swiss’ makes his stomach do flips, a sweet tinge of desperation in his panting breaths when they have to pull apart.
Swiss fucks him slow, hitting him deep but showing dew a gentle courtesy he knows he doesn’t get extremely often.
“Faster” dew cries, Swiss can feel a gush of slick around his cock when dew clenches down.
“Wanna take my time with you droplet, let me savor having you like this”
#mushy may#Swiss loves dew so much ok#swiss ghoul#dewdrop ghoul#the band ghost#ghost#nameless ghouls#ghost bc#fanfic#wrath writes#mushy may 2024
98 notes
·
View notes
Text
TIPSY MIKEY. We all stan a cute, tipsy Mikey.
09:53 pm
Nighttime is the most amazing part of the day. You can give yourself the attention you deserve, taking care of yourself, watching your favourite show, preparing a nourishing meal... All of this after the frenzy of the day, the heat of the city, the infinite traffic jams, and the overwhelmingness of your daily job.
Once you get your favourite shirt covering you up, you can't help but sigh contently, letting the perfume of the clothing fill your nostrils, the softness of the cotton fabric gently caressing your skin and the white colour of the tissue soothes your tired eyes.
His shirts are always your anchor after a long day when you haven't been able to meet. After a whole week you and your boyfriend, Mikey, haven't been able to meet because of his busy schedule due to an upcoming race and you being buried deep down the pit of work and hectic everyday life.
Just when you're about to get into the covers and call it a day, some motherfucker dares to ring the bell of your apartment, knocking at your door mercilessly. It's almost 10 pm, who could it possibly be?!
Stomping your feet towards the door of your apartment, you rub your eyes in a pissed manner, the lotion you put on your face earlier slightly oiling the tip of your fingers. When you open the door with a frustrated sigh, your eyes go from annoyed to surprised in less than two seconds. You surely didn't expect to find Draken, Mikey's best friend since the old days and a member of his racing team, looking at you apologetically while holding your boyfriend on his back, piggyback style.
You don't question him, despite wanting to do so, and let the beefy man in. He drops Mikey on your couch and he yelps, whining a slurred and slightly annoyed "Ken-chinnnnn".
You and Draken share a look that says it all: he was drunk, dead-drunk, cockeyed.
"A week is left before the big day, everyone wanted to meet up before having to go all in until the race day" Drake sighs and scratches the back of his head.
You have never seen him so shy, he must be quite tipsy too but you decide not to point that out, showing mercy for his virility.
"I'm sorry about this- he kept on blabbering about how much he missed you so I thought this was the best thing to do".
Of course, it is. Mikey's addicted to you. He loves you so much and every time he can't meet you even for a short period, not being able to hold you close and pepper your face in kisses, he loses it and does stupid things like... Getting drunk with his friends.
You can feel a sudden weight on your shoulder, strong arms wrapping around your waist like a snake and a stinging smell of mixed alcohol make its way through your senses.
Mikey's cheek is squished against your shoulder and he looks at you with big, doe onyx orbs and sweet, plump pouty lips.
His obsidian hair is a bit messy, and his cheek is slightly rosy due to his tipsiness.
You could devour him. He looks so adorable.
"Babyyy, is this really you? Fuck– I've missed you so much" winey voice and teary eyes. He always acts like a child whenever he's drunk and that never fails to put your heart in danger because of cuteness overload.
"You did great Draken, I'll take care of him, thank you for bringing him here" you smile at your boyfriend's best mate and motion him to go before Mikey throws off a tantrum on how much he had missed you and how you should have answered to his messages more often.
Just when he gets out you sigh and look at your boyfriend who's snuggling against you (probably because he's not even capable of standing still by himself), caressing your warm skin with the tip of his nose.
“Why haven't you answered any of my calls today, baby?”
It is surprising how his voice rings in your years, shaking your very core: his slurred and childish words from before have been completely replaced by a deep, low and shy whisper. He sounds pained.
You can feel the warmth of his muscles flex on your abdomen as he brings you closer to him until your back is touching his toned chest. His heart is thrumming against his ribcage, you can feel it.
“Can't focus on anything without hearing from you for so long… I get worried too, ya know?”
Your Manjiro has always been this way, whenever he got tipsy, he would always become more clingy, whinier and vulnerable.
Despite this, his charm is undeniable and you can't help but pend from his lips when his words flow effortlessly like the smoothest cream. Listening to him and absorbing his body heat is like indulging in the sweetest thing you might ever taste.
He doesn't do it on purpose, such antics become natural when he's with you: your magnecticity touches every cell of his body and makes it act on its own, getting on the right frequency just because you are there.
You're everything he needs and all he has always had.
You can't blame him for behaving like this, like the lovestruck man he is.
“I’m so sorry, ‘jiro, I've been busy… but I'll make it up to you, okay?”
His body weight leans more towards you as he mutters a slurred ‘you better'. Despite wanting to sound pissed, the smile on his face is clear as day even if his face is hidden in the curve on your neck. His satisfied tone betrays him: maybe wearing one of his shirts was a start to make up for the lost time already.
As your hand smoothes over his liquorice locks you can feel a damp, hot sensation on your neck: his hot breath reaches your skin as he kisses it in both relief and contentment, exciting your nostrils with a pungent hint of alcohol.
Once your hands make contact with his back in a fluid, circular motion, you can feel Mikey's muscles tense and melt in your hold in less than a few seconds: you prepared him a warm bath to help him ease up his paranoia about “you avoiding him” and wash off that nauseous smell of liquor that was making you sick.
The water ripples underneath his body, circular little waves expand and dissolve among the warm water whenever he moves.
Letting the fragrance of the oils and the body wash hug his senses, filling his thoughts with your gentle hand scratching his scalp deliciously with the tip of your fingers and your idyllic voice that echoes through the bathroom walls he feels at peace.
He breathes in deeply every time, his toned chest rises and falls at a slow pace and the droplets of water kiss every inch of the skin for you, sliding down his muscles deliciously.
With his eyes gently closed and his silky, obsidian hair sticking to his forehead slightly, he looks like a greek god, just for you to be blessed with.
You can't help but sigh happily as his consciousness clears up with every passing minute: he starts to make more coherent sentences, talking to you about his week and complaining about his team that put his life in such a hectic frenzy for the upcoming race that he hardly had time to check up on you.
“The only way I thought I could see you was by taking advantage of this dinner: I mean, no one wants to deal with a drunk, complaining pain the ass before the race, yeah? They had to let me come here, I'm a genius!”
You love him for that.
The soft thuds that jog up the stairs are unmistakable: as Mikey reaches your room and opens the door, you are already waiting for him in the bed, keeping the sheets warm for him, and making a comforting nest for his arrival.
He insisted that you wait for him upstairs as he brushed his teeth and dressed up, claiming that he wasn't that tipsy to be looked out for like the big baby he is.
Let's give him credit for that, he was right.
His face seems to be sparking under the warm light of your abatjour, the freshness of his body reaches your nose more and more as he walks closer to the bed, inching towards your face so you can breathe in and taste the minty scent of his mouth onto yours with a sloppy kiss.
When your hand guides its way on his collarbone, tickling his damp skin with your palm, he wastes no time hovering over your frame completely and crushing his weight on top of you, making the soft mattress sink lower underneath your bodies.
Even if Mikey has always had a quite smaller frame compared to other guys, he never fails to knock the breath off your lungs when he catches you by surprise. He might have a thing for that small puff of air that leaves your chest unexpectedly, making you yelp in such a delightful tone… but he would never admit that out loud. Where would the fun be otherwise?
Snuggling against your body, you can feel the tip of his nose playfully rub against your cheek as he kisses your jaw with a small movement of his mouth, the softest flower petals caressing your tender skin graciously.
Useless to say that you'll sleep in that position for the whole night and you have no room to argue, not when your man starts to mindlessly mumble sweet nonsense under his breath and ask questions about your week until late that night.
Mikey's head is still a bit fuzzy, his senses don't connect down on earth fully due to the fragmentary memories of the embarrassing, confused events that happened that night tormenting his subconscious, but he doesn't care: as long as your voice lulls him to sleep, all his repressed pre-race anxieties melt away; every fear of having missed out on a big event of your life that week dissolves into thin air; every inch of the emptiness that your absence brought fills up gradually, leaving him giddy inside.
He doesn't deny it, Manjiro admits that he can be whiney, childish and reckless (idiotic actually): getting drunk and causing a scene at the restaurant, screaming at the waiter because he didn't receive a flag on his entrecôte and spilling the carafe of wine on the white table cloth in front of the team before falling from the chair wasn’t the best idea to get him to your house, especially since he's an emergent public figure in the motorcycle racing industry.
But, honestly, that's all worth it if he gets to spend time with you once again, babying him the way he deserves.
English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes!
This has been in my drafts for way too long, so I decided to finish it– I'm not that proud of the outcome but I hope it brought a smile on your face regardless!
Sending y'all hugs. ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖
©GOLDENGIRLIEZ do not repost or modify on any platform.
#🪻manjiro!#🪻tokrev!#☁️fluff✧*。#manjiro sano#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers x reader#mikey sano#tokyo revengers fluff#manjiro sano x reader#mikey#mikey x reader#ran haitani#tokyo revengers mikey#mikey smut#tokrev smut#baji keisuke#matsuno chifuyu#mitsuya takashi#chifuyu x reader#baji x reader#kazutora x reader#kazutora fluff#draken#draken x reader#sano manjiro#tokrev fluff#drabble
90 notes
·
View notes
Text
To Pimp a Butterfly and 1989: a rant
Listen here, three things about me are that I'm a) white as snow, b) Greek, c) still a minor.
What does this mean? It means that I obviously wasn't raised with hip-hop, and I got into Kendrick Lamar's music pretty late.
As in, early this year.
I've known of him for some time, and the moment I found out he had a Pulitzer prize at some point in late-ish 2023, I decided I had to sit my ass down and pull out Spotify.
Now, as an avid reader of both fanfiction (ao3 raised me) and books [I feel the immense need to clarify that I don't associate myself with mainstream booktok. Capitalism's consumerism has overrun that shit and all I see are the same 20 books being recycled and recommended (a substantial amount of those are Colleen Hoover and her variants). Tropes and spice* are officially the defining factors of whether a book is worth it (*your porn addiction ain't cute) and quantity is heavily prioritized at the expense of quality. Also, diversity who?], I was, for a lack of a better word, hyped.
A Pulitzer prize is nothing to scoff at in general, more so in music, more so in hip-hop.
(Edit: Upon quick reflection, I realize that putting emphasis on hip-hop can come across as coded.
I am in no way, shape, or form trying to undermine hip-hop or say that it's somehow less 'sophisticated' than, for example, classical music. I'm very aware of the amount of skill and technique one needs to write a masterful hip-hop album, and I'm not doubting that there are hip-hop artists out there who are also incredibly deserving of such a prize. I meant it in the sense that I've unfortunately never heard of another hip-hop artist who won a Pulitzer before, which is quite telling.)
That's some huge shit, and I'd be a fool not to be intrigued.
Admittedly, I didn't get on that immediately. For a while I procrastinated, because I wasn't in the mood to hyper-fixate on anything new just yet.
Which of course meant I ended up forgetting about it for a few months, because of course I did.
But then I came across a TikTok that talked about how it was insane that '1989' won the Grammy when To Pimp a Butterfly was right there.
Now, a fourth thing about me is that I don't fuck with Taylor Swift.
And a fifth thing about me is that I'm not baseless in anything that I do, say or feel, and that includes annoyance.
Her immature understanding of activism and feminism leaves a bad taste in my mouth. The way she built up her fan base around this portrayal of her as a relatable girl's girl, her refusal to accept criticism, and always making a victim out of herself (even now when she's in her thirties and is a fucking billionaire) while never using her position of power and privilege for good are all reasons that serve to fuel my dispassionate dislike.
And before any Swifties get on my ass, no, I don't think that "But she's a singer! Why are you expecting so much out of her, she isn't even qualified to speak on XYZ—" is a good enough excuse.
She has always been rich, and now she's a billionaire. There are no ethical billionaires, and that includes her.
Fame is influence is power. Uncle Ben said it all: With great power comes great responsibility.
And let me tell you, I don't see her owning up to that responsibility, especially after all that talk about how she supports women, supports the LGBTQ community, and supports the BLM movement. Has she ever actually put her abundant money where her mouth is?
I've never seen her speak about anything that doesn't immediately concern her.
Don't get me wrong. She's not the only celebrity like this out there. I'm sure there are worse cases. I know it for a fact.
To wrap this segment up before I get even more sidetracked, I'll outright state that I don't hate her, because hating her would by definition mean that I, in some way, actually care about her, and that just sounds exhausting.
Best way to describe me is indifferent, leaning towards distasteful.
She's annoying.
And that's how I feel about both her as a person and her as an artist.
I'm not denying her talent, nor her impact on the industry, nor the fact that she does have good songs that even I like.
A select few, of course, but still.
Apart from those...what? Ten songs? I have never, ever been able to listen to any other song of her's all the way through.
I get bored. They do nothing for me. They sound empty. Hollow. Plastic. Repetitive.
Her lyrics, that are praised by fans for being deep and complex, sound pretty surface level to me.
Not all of them. But I'm a sucker for analysis. A literature nerd. Greek is my native language. I can tell when something's deep and when something wants to be deep.
(Not necessarily including Folklore and Evermore in that category. Her storytelling ability is actually great.)
Her music largely sounds like it wants to be deep.
Most recent example being her latest release, The Tortured Poets Department.
Anyway, back to Kendrick.
My initial plan was to listen to 'DAMN.' first, because that's what he won the Pulitzer for in the first place.
There was a change of plans after that TikTok.
I decided to compare the opening tacks.
I put on Welcome to New York, and predictably, I felt nothing.
The rhythm is dance-y, I suppose. But there's nothing substantial about it. There's nothing exciting about it.
The lyrics are juvenile, and I get it, it's a pop song and she was in her twenties.
Nobody is expecting Shakespeare (no matter how much you scream or kick your feet, the only reason Shakespeare couldn't write Taylor Swift is because he's in another league entirely) or Odysseus Elytis. Nobody is expecting mind-blowing lyricism.
But it's the opening track to an apparently Grammy-worthy album. The very least I'd expect from it would be some additional levels of artistry.
Am I being harsh? Probably. Do I care? No.
Disappointed but unsurprised, I put on Wesley's Theory.
I ascended within the first minute.
Don't get it twisted, I barely understood shit.
Not only am I white, I am also entirely removed from America and its culture as a whole. I don't know what's going on there in y'all's daily lives.
And this was baby's first proper introduction to hip-hop as a whole.
My untrained, white-ass ear barely caught two references. I got what the gist of the song was about, and that's about it.
I had to look up analyses of the track to fully grasp what Kendrick was on about, and even then, there was obviously still a disconnect.
And I expected all of that.
I didn't expect to get hooked on that song within the first listen.
I swear to fuck, the beat is addictive. I swear to fuck, even when I was fighting to understand what the lyrics were referencing, I was having the time of my life.
Even I, an amateur in every sense of the word, could tell that there was depth and there was quality and there was intentional meaning in every line of that song.
It didn't matter that I couldn't understand it. It mattered that I knew it was there. Not because someone told me that was the case. But because it was audible.
I listened to the next track. And the one after that. And the one after that. I had listened to all of the tracks, before I knew it.
And the evident permeance of quality, of substance, carried on throughout the whole album.
It had exactly the type of lyricism I'd expect a Grammy-worthy album to have. It had exactly the amount of artistry I expected a Grammy-worthy album to have.
Even better, it had all the ingredients I expected a timeless album to have.
The poetry Taylor Swift fans insist hides in her discography, I found in plain sight within Kendrick Lamar's.
After meticulously reading the lyrics, I watched video essay after video essay, searched for analysis after analysis on this album, each time understanding the meanings behind it a little better.
Needless to say that the Grammy's are rigged and I love Kendrick Lamar.
Hip-hop is gorgeous.
#tpab#to pimp a butterfly#kendrick lamar#he's awesome#hip hop#1989#taylor swift#just to be safe#anti taylor swift
81 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi! can you write a fermin imagine where reader has commitment issues but fermin thinks that reader doesn’t love him but she does, she just has a hard time expressing her feeling.
you don’t have to write this and sorry if none of this makes sense. english isn’t my first language lol.
have a great day!!
f. lopez | commitment issued reader! x fermin headcanon
fermin suspected about you having issues with commiting to one person way before you got together.
he would slowly notice things like how you would change the topic whenever he would sneak in a question about what you guys are. he was deeply confused since it never happened to him that a girl was so distant with him while talking to him, it usually being the girl asking themselves questions like that, but that made him want to get to know you even more.
he was the first to catch feelings for you, he thought you were different from most women he’s met. usually women throw themselves onto him. he found it entertaining that you were not, it made him want to win you over.
he would ask for advice from his friends who absolutely had no idea what to do.
the thing was you do have feelings for him, his charming and funny personality immediately getting to you as soon as you started talking. you were just afraid of them. you would tell yourself you won’t ever let any person to have power over your feelings or even the power of being able to break your heart whenever they would want to. long story short the whole love thing scares the fuck out of you.
fermin was a hundred percent sure you did not want anything more from him than a fun time but he had to tell you how he felt about you. he just had to get it off his chest so he knew he did try. soon enough, he told you how much you mean to him and how he would like to ask you out to be his girlfriend. you were at a loss of words. you didn’t know how to react at the moment. you didn’t know if you should tell him the truth about your mutual feelings or protect yourself and tell him you don’t feel the same. it was a trick thing to decide so you asked him for more time.
in that time he wanted to spend more time with you always messaging you when you would meet again and checking up on you. soon enough you finally agreed on a date, one turning into two, leading you to suddenly hang out every week. you were starting to get to know fermin more personally, even starting to notice a few habits he has.
he was relived when you eventually gave in, finally telling him that you actually do feel the same. that you liked him ever since you started talking and how you got scared because of your commitment issues. he listened to every word you were saying, he wasn’t one to judge, he told you he understands you and reassures you, you won’t ever have to worry about him. you didn’t know what exactly made you believe him, but you did.
60 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hii can you please do one where she gets caught with a ufc fighter like Paulo Costa or someone else and everyone starts training? Idk if it makes sense
Hi loves. I had so much fun writing this. I hope you enjoy it. Hopefully, this is what you wanted @zazabazasworld
Enjoy reading and send me some requests!
-XoXo
Fight Club
After the whole Dominik Szoboszlai fiasco, the driver thought it would be the last time. But, oh no! Not even four days later, Amira was seen with a different man at lunch. Although there weren’t any pictures on the internet, the fans recognized the man instantly: Paulo Costa. How she managed to escape the drivers careful timetable will always be a mystery.
The name Paulo Costa didn’t ring any bells in the driver’s head, so they thought they could use the same tactic they did with Dominik. However, they were sorely mistaken. Because non of them knew him, they decided to have a short meeting. The drivers gathered in one of the meeting rooms, already plotting their plan.
“So, does everyone know their part?” asked Carlos. “Me and George will bring him to the parking lot,” answered Alex. “Lewis, Max, Carlos, and I will do the dirty work,” said a smiling Daniel, turning his head toward Carlos at the front.
“Oscar and I will make sure there are no cameras,” said Lando. “Charles and Yuki will distract the teams,” added Pierre. Yuki and Charles exchanged a look. “Why us?” asked Yuki. “Because both of you look like angels and have fluffy puppy energy,” replied Max. Before Charles or Yuki could complain, George broke the silence.
“Guys, you have to see this,” George said in an uneasy voice. He connected his phone to the TV stand, and all the drivers could see the problem. On the screen was a picture of Paulo Costa, a Brazilian UFC fighter. And he certainly didn’t look like a marshmallow.
“Oh no” and “Fuck” were the reactions in the room. The drivers started talking among themselves, each painting a worse picture for their plans ending. Before anyone could start crying, Charles whistled very loudly to gain the rooms attention. “Boys, there’s an easy solution to our problem.” Before anyone could ask questions, he dialed his trainer’s number.
"Andrea, I think we should increase my muscle workout"
#formula 1#baby!sainz!sister#lando norris x reader#charles leclerc x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#alex albon x reader#carlos sainz x sister!reader#george russell x reader#pierre gasly x reader#formula 1 x reader#daniel riccardo x reader#oscar piastri x reader
78 notes
·
View notes
Text
Guys. Why is there even a debate here. Some of the games were explicitly written to be connected, some of them weren't. Not everything has to fit into one cohesive timeline. As a matter of fact, they can't. Now, there is some more nuance to it. Read below for my explanation (infodump) plus a more nuanced chart.
Red and blue lines are canon within the games' text. Ambiguities are filled in with green. I'll get more into that later. Let's first explain the two completely separate mini timelines.
The Four Swords miniseries stands mostly alone. The Master Sword and the Triforce are present in every other game or (mostly--looking at you, Master Sword in LoZ and AoL) have a good reason not to be, but they are not present at all in these three games. Instead, we have the Four Sword and Light Force. The only wrinkle is that Ganondorf shows up in FSA... so I don't know about that one. I don't think anyone does.
As for BotW and TotK. Oh brother. What do we do with these. Skyward Sword is intended to take place seemingly millennia, or at least several centuries before Ocarina. We see the founding of Hyrule with the first monarch and her chosen knight, the cycle of recurring evil and heroism being established, and the forging of the Master Sword
Wait. What about Rauru and Sonia? I thought they were the first rulers of Hyrule. And if the Zonai were around long before Hyrule, where is any of their presence in Skyward Sword? Huh. Alright. We don't know how much time passed between the first Calamity and the second, but from the past era of TotK to its present, we can account for at least 10,105 years of history. We don't even need to get into how Zora and Rito coexist or anything smaller like that. There's just no fucking way these two games fit with any of the others. Fine, that's fine. Moving on.
There's also a little hiccup around the Oracles. Nintendo seems to go back and force on whether the Oracles feature the same Link as in ALttP and LA, but if they do, it probably makes more sense that Oracles happen before LA (the linked Oracle game ends with Link boarding sailing off on a small ship and LA starts with him on one). So like... I guess they fit there?
Either way, let's take a second to look back at where this idea of a timeline split happened. Remember that WW and TP both clearly take place after OoT. That isn't theorizing, that's in the actual text of each game. The thing is, they're mutually exclusive. TP has Ganondorf being executed, as he would have been after the Hero of Time goes back to his original era and warns Zelda that her plan to get to the Triforce first isn't going to work (which is implied to be what happens at the "The End" screen of OoT). WW has Ganondorf coming back by breaking the seal put on him, and the Hero of Time didn't appear to stop him again (as would happen if Link was sent back in time). Fans started theorizing way back in 2006 that OoT created separate timelines, with WW and TP being mutually exclusive sequels to it as the evidence.
Some fans have asserted that Nintendo just "took" the fan theory. But come on, put everything together here. The texts of OoT, WW, and TP HEAVILY imply the timeline split. The only reason we called it a theory is because the writers didn't literally say "And then the timeline split in two". The texts are pretty clear though. It's the only thing that makes sense. That isn't to say that there needs to be a cohesive timeline, and that the split is the only way to fit it together. No, OoT is connected to both WW and TP no matter what. That was the intent. It's just that the explanation for OoT to have mutually exclusive sequels actually fits neatly into the texts of the games.
And now we come to the tricky part. Put yourself back into the 90s real quick. ALttP seems to have been written as a prequel to Zelda 1, showing Hyrule before its period of decline. Alright, let's just accept that because it may as well be true. The lore at that point was so thin that it made enough sense. I kinda slapped Zelda 1 and 2 at the end there to show it, because we do have a cohesive timeline from ALttP to TFH. That's fine, all well and good.
Likewise, OoT seems to be written as a prequel to ALttP. We see conflict over the Triforce, the origin of Ganon, the seven sages, and an earlier iteration of the Master Sword. Back in 1998, we had no reason to not believe it. These are tenuous connections that are not explicit in the games' text, so I've paired them with green lines to show it.
But wait. ALttP is ALSO mutually exclusive to TP and WW. Oh brother. What do we do about this? Even after figuring out the timeline split in 2006, fans didn't know what the fuck to do with the first four games of this franchise. They could go after TP, but that's even messier than putting them right after OoT. Yuck. This doesn't feel good at all. Oh yeah, and then there's the Four Swords games that don't fit anywhere.
Now you can imagine the position the writers of Hyrule Historia found themselves in when they were tasked with creating an official timeline. Some of the games have certain explicit connections, as detailed in my first chart. But they had to cram everything into one timeline. Well. They knew they had a timeline split in OoT, because that's what the texts of OoT, WW, and TP collectively say. The lore of ALttP also mentions seven sages (or wise men, but let's call them sages), but not a legendary hero. So... if you really stretch your brain out here... it kinda makes sense that there's a timeline where the Hero of Time died fighting Ganon. Maybe. Kinda. Not really, but kinda. And then there's the Four Swords miniseries. Fuck it, throw them in randomly.
The two-way split doesn't disagree with OoT's text at all, which said that Link won. The three-way split does disagree with it by asserting that Link lost. But if we're really trying to fit everything into one timeline, that is the cleanest place to put them. Some people really hate this, but it does seem that those are the same people that demanded that there be an official timeline in the first place. ie the same people who were gonna be pissed off with anything Nintendo gave them that wasn't exactly their own theory being confirmed.
Alright, real talk. The producers of the Zelda series have said time and time again that they think of what would make a fun game then write a story that fits around it. The Wind Waker devs wanted you to sail around the ocean. Then the writers decided "oh, we could put this after Ocarina! After all, weren't they left without a hero? What if Ganon came back with no one to stop him? How would that problem resolve itself? What if the gods just flooded the world?" Then the Twilight Princess devs wanted a spiritual successor to Ocarina, with an epic adventure on horseback across the traditional Zelda kingdom setting. So the writers went "hey, in Ocarina, Link warned Zelda about Ganon, right? What if he was executed then, and then the world was never flooded?"
We have to realize that trying to put games with this design philosophy into a neat little timeline is a futile effort. It's never gonna work because it wasn't designed to. More so than any other storytelling medium, video games take so many approaches to continuity. The Halo games were all meant to be sequential and fit neatly into a strict timeline. Pokemon is all canon within itself but the ties between games are less important than the stories of each game. Mario essentially has no canon except for recurring characters and settings. Zelda is gameplay first, canon second. That's why the two most recent mainline games don't even try to fit in the canon of the previous eighteen. That's just how it works and we're gonna have to accept that.
#zelda#the legend of zelda#zelda timeline#zelda analysis#my own#infodump#yikes man#this is precisely why I have this blog
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
Has there ever been a more vilified star in the Toronto market than Mitch Marner?
He carries on his back the weight of an entire city; the weight of an entire country; but heavier yet, he carries the weight of his childhood hopes and dreams.
God, imagine it. You lay in bed at night as a small boy in a full Leafs bedspread and allow yourself to dream about putting that sweater over your head, seeing your last name on the back, and the crest on the front. It’s all you can think about. Surely it gnawed at him; surely it still does.
Winning the Memorial Cup on one of the greatest lines in the history of junior hockey. Lottery draft pick, right to your childhood team. You’re an electric prospect, with a savant’s vision of the ice and an ability to create plays for your teammates out of nowhere — an ability to create magic.
(Colin Cowherd recently talked about a couple of NBA players he thought had more of an artist’s mind than an athlete’s mind — Kyrie Irving and Kevin Durant — and it crystallized something for me. Artists are never quite on the best of terms with the media, are they? Why are you asking me why I’m not performing? Why are you demanding so much of me? Do you not see this beautiful picture I’m painting on the ice? Do you not see the artistic vision? How can you not appreciate the beauty in this? Is that not Marner to a tee?)
God above, it’s almost comically unfair. Getting psychologically tormented by Mike Babcock as a rookie to the point where he’s breaking down in front of Tyler Bozak and Nazem Kadri, getting put on the fourth line for reasons divorced from common sense; no wonder him and his agent asked for the sun and the moon. If I had to deal with that, I wouldn’t take a penny less either.
He blossoms into this 200-foot monster with Mark Stone-esque defensive impact, all the while spinning around the offensive zone like a hurricane and making passes that I couldn’t even think to make in NHL 24 on Rookie difficulty. He directly creates John Tavares’ best season of his career — he becomes Auston Matthews’ right hand man, in the most literal sense of the term.
But the playoffs. God, the playoffs. Sod off with all of this nonsense about how he can’t handle the playoff style of hockey — he’s an elite fucking athlete. I think it’s so much deeper than that. I think he remembers how much he’s playing for — WHO he’s playing for. He’s playing for an entire nation, and he is playing for his own past. It’s a lot to carry on one pair of shoulders, no matter who you are. Maybe it might just be best for him to go somewhere with less ghosts. Maybe he’ll enjoy this beautiful game a bit more.
The local media turning you into a kebab at every single possible opportunity. A city that wants to attach you onto a rocketship and send you straight to Mars. A fanbase exhausted.
Do you think, when Mitch Marner daydreamed about being a Leaf as a kid, he had any idea the end would be this…lonely?
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thoughts on RvB Restoration Finale
not really that long just my 2 cents
I wanna say I liked the movie because I did enjoy myself watching it, but honestly I'm very much gonna stick to the RvB17 open ended finale
Overall the movie was... ok? It wasn't unwatchably bad the way RvB Zero was but it also just made a lot of choices that I disagree with fundamentally both with the writing and the core themes of the series as a whole. I've had this take ever since RvB14 on the fanbase and the writers but this movie flat out says it:
The writers are fucking unable to let go of PFL and Chorus in a meaningful way.
For a series thats core message is about saying goodbye, they literally dont let that part of the show die. They are functionally unable to let go of the past peaks of the franchise and write something new. And I get it: RvB fundamentally cycles with its storytelling, but what was so refreshing to me about RvB14-17 was that it actually progressed itself Past those peaks of RvB10 and 11-13 (and honestly people REALLY dont appreciate the good in those later seasons). It felt like a natural (if wacky) progression, and it definitely wasnt perfect but it gave the extended cast more opportunities to shine in ways we didnt appreciate before
This movie just doesnt do that? Honestly the fact that they KILLED Sarge and Doc was so... disrespectful to me? Like not in the sense that it was as bad as how RvB Zero (fake) killed Tucker, but more like it felt like the writers killed them off because they were following a book titled "How To Write Story" and saw 'killing off characters is good writing'. Sarge got a dramatic send off that also didnt feel that impactful? And I did see it coming from the start but having Doc be Washs' guilt haunting him just left a bad taste in my mouth.
Its a really self contained story, a whole bunch of characters outside the main 3 reds and Caboose felt ooc, a good chunk of characters dont even show up (dude where was DONUT??? youre telling me he only has 5 seconds in Simmons' mind in a cheerleading costume?), it was composed of like 3-4 sets total, Carolina, Tex and 479er all just kind of Show Up to be badasses in the way The New Person would show up in an MCU movie...
Honestly watching this movie I kind of felt like it would have a twist ending. Like the credits would play and then itd zoom out to show the Reds and Blues post S17 in a movie theater watching this dramatic finale, because thats honestly what it felt like: The whole movie was a cheap facsimile of RvB as a whole. The fact that Trocadero wasn't allowed/signed on to make the music for this finale really does influence this movie, since they used a whole bunch of songs and osts that felt out of place (though I will admit Vale Deah softly playing as Grimmons said goodbye to each other did make me choke up a little)
Despite my negative review, I do still recommend watching it, since there was stuff I did like: Simmons in a leader role, Tex and the fun reveal during her fight with Tucker-Meta, Grif FINALLY getting to retire, Caboose as a whole was really well written, there IS good in this movie! And again it's not unwatchable bad, it just... kind of leaves a somber, sour taste in my mouth. This movie threw a whole bunch of stuff to the wall not to see what would stick but to break it all and leave for the insurance money. Just a "hey since we're sinking might as well make all these callbacks and break a bunch of stuff along the way."
Welp. Goodbye, RvB. At least this way I know that RT dies without riding your coattails any longer. And hey given that RvB technically has 3 endings (RvB17, Zero and RvB19) you can just take your pick on what you like best anyways. Quick edit no jutsu I forgor to mention there is the sequence at the beginning of the movie where it is implied RvB19 COULD also be one of the simulations in and of itself so. yeah you can in fact just take it as you will
#my thoughts are mostly negative but there Is some good in this movie. whatever#rvb#rvb19#rvb restoration#rvb spoilers
24 notes
·
View notes
Note
nun moon and preist soap are so special to me also i LOVE the cult leader idea somethin about that man pulling one over on you
Ooh because it's such a nice churched community. It's picturesque, the stone chapel, the rolling hills, the houses that break up the landscape. It's exactly the sort of place you'd want to work, the sort of place you'd want to live, and the priest is young and kind. (He's handsome too, with a smile like an angel, but you're not supposed to notice that) Working here should be easy, enjoyable even. (cw cult stuff, religious themes)
You have a nice little room, meals, quiet company. You see the priest more often than you see anyone else, but again he's kind to you. Terribly light on his feet though. He's walked in on you fixing your habit once or twice, but made no comment on it thank the lord. There are moments... passing remarks that stick out to you, easily brushed off as curiosity(of course), but still. You're younger than most nuns, or at least younger than what most people think of for nuns, and it never escapes anyone's notice. Father Mactavish asks you if you wouldn't rather be settling down with a nice man, and you laugh. You haven't known many nice men.
"How about a bairn then, one or two on your hip would be a sight." He chuckles. Your brows draw together, unsure if the joke is that you're a nun, or that you'd be bad with children. You're in charge of the primary school, the nursery as well, it would be odd to call you inept in this way.
"I'm not sure what you mean father," You respond with a certain measure of flintiness to your voice, your bards bristling at the insinuation. The priest hums, clasps his hands in his lap and smiles.
"Meant no 'arm by it, only that you're so good with the wee ones, it's surprising ya wouldnae want one of your own."
You suppose that makes sense, glancing back at your tea you miss the darkness in his eyes, the way they rake over your body, the way the priest squeezes his cock through his robes. One or two, or five or six, keeping you pregnant like you should be. You'll give your body to the lord but not his servant? Is Soap not the mouthpiece for the divine? Does he not alter hearts and minds? You're in service to him, so get on your fucking knees and serve.
"Maybe in another life," You tell him, "but I'm happy as I am, serving the church."
"That's wonderful," [I will have you over this table, over my knee, for the sin of misusing your body- my body] "if only more people felt the same." Soap hums. Though he supposes there'd be far fewer new members of his congregation if that were the case. As it stands he's managed to convince the town of the importance of family. Even the "nun" you're filling in for is on sabbatical to cover her maternity leave. An overzealous man in town to blame for that one, they really should have been more careful, but watching the man kneel in front of him and beg for permission, seeing the so called nun fall so willingly into his arms. People are animals, sinners wrestling with nothing more than base urges.
And Soap- Soap is leading them to salvation, to paradise. Children are our future, he tells them, children guide us towards goodness. Children are the foundation of any good church, they'll know him as a prophet, and you as his wife. What's a nun that doesn't serve her lord?
"Are you alright father?" You ask. He seems distracted, he's hardly touched his tea, and his eyes are so far away you worry you've lost his company entirely. Father Mactavish blinks, and the stormy sky in his eyes clears back to that brilliant blue. He smiles, and you smile back.
"Of course hen," he draws in a breath, "just writing my sermon for Sunday."
#x oc#cod x oc#cod x reader#x reader#soap mactavish#john soap mactavish#johnny mactavish#john mactavish x reader#soap mactavish x reader#soap mw2#soap cod#soap x reader#oc: moon#nun!reader#priest!soap#f!reader#tw religious themes
53 notes
·
View notes
Note
need more arab jeggy,, like immediately. as in picture me with my hands together on my knees asking for it
layla its 1:15 am this is all ur getting from me rn. mature towards the ending. it's p much james chasing reg and riling him up and he ends up catching him ofc hehe <3 also idk iv been up since like before 6 am today so idk if things don't make sense don't ask me
James grins at him—a full-toothed smile that stretches wide across his face—edged sharp at the corners, with mischief folded between the creases of his eyes. He leans forward to place both his palms on the dining table, the very piece of furniture that remains the only thing separating them, all the while smiling that damned smile that doesn’t hold a sliver of earnest intent. “Lah ikmishak.” Drawled out like the taunt it is.
Regulus scowls and steps back in a vain attempt to increase the distance between them, the crease between his brows furrowing itself deeper at the realization there’s nowhere else for him to go when all he feels touch his back is the stupid living room wall. “Quiet, kalb.” It’s barely above a hiss, caught and slurred between his gritting teeth. James coos at the sound of it, pretends to lunge forward, and chuckles when the movement makes Regulus jolt in place.
“I’m sorry, habibi, what was that? Qalbi, is it?” He inches to the left, slowly, like a predator rounding its prey, and grins even more manic when Regulus startles to the right. “You’re so sweet, calling me such sweet things. I’m so lucky to have you, did you know?”
This is fucking ridiculous, playing some bootleg form of tag in their living room out of all places just because Regulus dotingly nibbled on James’ ear. James, of course, can’t be normal when it comes to reciprocating any loving gestures and has been hellbent on catching Regulus to show what a real bite is supposed to look like.
“Tell me, rouhi,” James starts, stepping to the left again and forcing Regulus back to the center, “is it sweet to pinch your boyfriend, hm?”
(Maybe he’s omitted the part where he pinched James in his panic and refused to apologize. This, of course, only proved to be a further incentive for whatever retaliation strategy James has brewed by now.)
“James,” Regulus warns. His heart rattles heavily in his chest, muscles coiled like a spring as he warily eyes each subtle movement. “Stop this.”
“Stop what?” James innocently asks as he raps his knuckles against the wooden tabletop, not nearly as fast as the drum-frantic thrum of Regulus’ pulse. “I mean, I’m not doing anything other than wondering why my other half is so far away and keeps running.”
“You know why,” Regulus hisses.
“Do I? I have no idea. Does he not love me anymore?” In all theatric dramatics, James gasps, putting a hand over his heart. “Is that it? So soon before the wedding too?”
Regulus feels like tearing out his hair. “It was one accidental pinch. One. You smack my bottom all the time—”
“—and I have been so good to you too,” James exclaims with exaggerated flair. “The best. I even made you knafeh.” Evidently store-bought with the way the plastic bag has dropped off the counter and not properly stuffed in the garbage bin, but he’s never been one to let up.
“You’re insane, clinically insane.” Regulus needs to go to Euphemia and ask for a refund. “Pretending like you got that for us even though you plan to eat it all by yourself. I’m lactose intolerant I can’t even have that.” As petulant as it may sound, Regulus will always love James’ excitement for food, even when he doesn’t feel as strongly about anything that’s overwhelmingly sweet (other than James and his tooth-rotting charming attempts that is).
James falls quiet for all but two seconds before he gives a solemn nod. “I see.”
“See? See what? What are you seeing right now? How mad you are?”
“Yes,” James agrees. “Mad in love.”
In an alternative universe, Regulus is gagging at the cheesiness of it all. In this one, however, he can’t help but blush.
“I simply must win you back again.”
“Oh, for fuck’s s—” The words break off into a high-pitched sound when James lunges at him across the table, hand outstretched. Regulus only manages three, long steps away from him until he feels two strong arms wrap around his center.
He’s pushed onto the couch face-first. A warm palm slips underneath his shirt, fingers splaying over his abdomen as a soft mouth touches the shell of his ear, hot breath fanning over the flushed skin.
“It’s cute,” he murmurs, “you thinking you can escape me.”
“James—”
A broad, wet tongue that drags down the curve of his neck hushes him just right. The hand inside his shirt trails up higher and gently pinches one of his nipples in a way that makes Regulus keen.
There’s the shape of James’ grin pressed against the side of his neck as he whispers, “Try and run from me now, rouhi.”
#answered#wrote La7 ikmishak as 'lah'#idk how right that is#idk what this is#the word play with kalb and like. kkalb#hehehehehe
24 notes
·
View notes
Note
What element including sub-bending would you choose to bend and what elements would Roach and the 141 be?
Atla au.
if I could choose any type of bending, I'd honstly just go with a plain old, standard fire-bending.
starting with my son (Roach), he would be earth-bending. actually- probably metal-bending, but I doubt that he actually needs to do too much metal-bending
onto Price, he's harder for me to get a read on, he could just be a non-bender. which, I mean it doesn't mean he's useless, just that he may have to get creative.
Gaz, he always gives me green and/or water-y vibes, so I'm going to say he's a definite water-bender (if air-benders were not wiped out i'd have given him air-bending tho)
Ghost, he's an earth-bender. he dug himself out of a grave, that's gotta be like a sign or something, right?... or does that just mean the universe has a fucked-up sense of humor?............ no. no, it's fine.
my wife (soap), fire-bending. no question about it. it just makes sense to me. he knows all the best way to blow charges to do most/least damage. he knows how fire will affect the structural integrity of a building that only experience can bring.
#gary roach sanderson#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#john price#kyle gaz garrick#cod#cod mw2#call of duty#atla au#earth-bending#water-bending#fire-bending#lovely ask#anon ask#el rambles
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
chapter one: the beginning | blackout
warning : sfw | none !
summary : getting into the foxes
pairing : Andrew x Neil x oc! Male character
beta read / editor : @shawol-lisa-lee9
a/n : first chapter, woo, can't believe this is real rn, hope you guys liked it! And thank you @shawol-lisa-lee9 for agreeing to be my beta reader and being so helpful in the process! you're a life saver! 🤍
navigation | masterlist
───※ ·❆· ※───
It was supposed to be like any other day. But everything feels different. The subtle changes in the air don’t go unnoticed by him. The school is more lively than usual. Jocks… fucking jocks are friendly to Abraxas. And there is hype about a sports match today, and every time Abraxas passes in the halls someone is wishing him good luck.
Abraxas frowns every time he hears them.
He doesn't play any sports.
He doesn't even like running.
So nothing can explain why he is in the locker room with a coach giving everyone a speech on how great of a team they are and how proud he is of them. Nothing makes sense, but Abraxas chalks it all up to a very vivid dream and decides to go along with it.
He will wake up eventually.
Picking up the racket is instinctive, giving it a swing gives him a sense of deja vu. Abraxas looks at one of the guys beside him and clears his throat to get their attention.
“What team are we playing again?” Abraxas asks, wondering why in the heck he is playing lacrosse in this dream. He packs his gear in a bag. From the looks of it, they would have to travel to another school to play.
“We're playing against Millport,” the guy replies.
He gives Abraxas a friendly smile that makes Abraxas more jittery than anything. “Can't believe you forgot again. Don't tell the coach or he will make you run laps.”
Abraxas gives him a rough nod, wondering why the name Millport sounds so similar, but the noise in the locker room distracts him from his thoughts.
───※ ·❆· ※───
Millport is a small town. The high school Abraxas is playing against doesn’t seem like a good team at all. Abraxas thankfully knows the basic rules of lacrosse but it makes no sense to him why he would be playing it when he has no attachment to the sport. It being in Abraxas's dream makes no sense.
But Abraxas doesn’t realize how wrong he is about which sports he is playing until he sees only six people on the court. Not just that, the court is different too, definitely not the type used for lacrosse. It is… more similar to a sport that doesn’t even exist. At least not in the real world.
Exy.
Exy was a bastard sport, an evolved sort of lacrosse on a soccer-sized court with the violence of ice hockey. It is a line from a book Abraxas read a long time ago. The Foxhole Court.
The book was complicated but good. But out of every sport Abraxas could dream of, it had to be this one? Abraxas doesn't even remember the rules as he takes his place on the court. As Abraxas stands behind his teammate, he holds his racquet upwards. It feels right. Like Abraxas had always been playing.
The bell rings and the rest of the game is a blur. Abraxas ran, and ran for the first time. However his muscles don’t burn, he isn’t even tired. Fuck, he even scores!
Abraxas's team wins against Millport.
Millport, which was a town featured in Foxhole Court. It was the town in which Neil Josten, the protagonist of the book, was hiding. Abraxas pause, frowning.
Does that mean he's there? That he played on that court?
Abraxas swallows, wondering the possibilities as he stares at the backs of the other team. Any of them could be Neil. The boy Abraxas read about. The boy who made Abraxas’ life less miserable just by existing in his mind.
Abraxas walks towards the other team’s side, ignoring his teammates’ calls. The Millport kids look at Abraxas, wondering if he is there to start a fight.
But Abraxas only wants to see the boy who saved him.
“Neil Josten?” Abraxas calls out, hoping that he’s not wrong.
A guy flinches as the name is called.
And Abraxas knows, Abraxas knows he is right.
Neil is in Abraxas's dream. He is here.
A boy with messy black hair and brown eyes looks at Abraxas through the holes of his helmet, his eyebrows raised in a silent question. Abraxas clears his throat, feeling awkward.
A part of him feels embarrassed, not knowing how to react as he sees the boy.
“You played well,” Abraxas lets out. His voice is so high that it sounds forced, despite the fact it is true and Abraxas means every word. Neil gave his everything when he played and it was clear to everyone who watched him play.
“We lost,” he deadpans, and Abraxas feels like he could die happy as he hears his voice. It was everything Abraxas imagined like, and it sends a chill down his spine.
Abraxas reminds himself that he is standing rather awkwardly in silence, not sure of what to reply. So he shrugs. “You are still very good, though,” Abraxas emphasizes.
Neil gives Abraxas a nod instead of a verbal answer. Abraxas doesn’t mind: knowing his character, the fact Neil even said two words to Abraxas meant a lot. He turns to leave, not wanting to embarrass himself any further.
“You…” Neil begins as Abraxas stops going in the other direction. “You played well too.” Abraxas doesn't look back as he continues walking. But the grin on his face is the widest it's ever been. Abraxas knows Neil wouldn't compliment anyone just to be nice, knows he means his words.
Abraxas being actually good at this, means a lot to him.
Abraxas was never ‘good’ at anything before.
───※ ·❆· ※───
Before it's time to leave, Abraxas’ coach calls him in another room. This dream is going on too long, it's too vivid, but due to the adrenaline of the win it doesn't raise any alarms to him
Abraxas is frozen as he looks at the man beside his coach. After all, the man is no other than Coach Wymack. The man stands tall, a file in his hand as he looks at Abraxas with his brown eyes.
“He wanted to talk to you,” his coach says, “I had sent him your stats the last time we talked about it.”
Since Abraxas knows it is a dream, he has no idea what the coach is talking about. He can’t say anything though, his heart racing as he sees how fast the dream is escalating. He gives the coach a nod and waits for Wymack to make the first move.
“I shouldn't be here right now,” he begins, “but I had problems with my last recruit and your coach said you're interested in our team. We need a sub striker” Again, Abraxas nods in reply, his mind buzzing.
“Then sign the dotted line and you're ours for five years.”
“Uh,” Abraxas begins to ask, “Will you be recruiting any other player except me?”
Coch Wymack looked at him sharply, “Why, yes,” he answers. “After you sign the papers, I'll be meeting a player from your rival team.”
If he isn't wrong, Andrew should be meeting Neil any moment now. More specifically hitting Neil with his racquet and stealing his breath away - for the first time of many to come. He should send Wymack on his way as soon as possible.
Abraxas hums. “How about I sleep on it? I'll let you know the answer soon.” He slings his bag over his shoulder. “Let's go, Coach. I am tired.”
Coach Wymack eyebrows furrow together, “You won't get an opportunity like this, kid” He starts as if trying to think of more words to convince Abraxas to join his broken team of misfits.
Abraxas replies, “I know.”
This is a dream and thus me agreeing doesn't really matter when it's not real in the first place.
Abraxas leaves the two coaches behind.
───※ ·❆· ※───
When he takes a nap on the bus, he is sure he will wake up to his reality. He does not. He wakes up on his seat, with the noises made by his teammates annoying the shit out of him.
When he reaches his home, and finds his way to heaven - his bed -, he thinks ‘Now I definitely will wake up.’ Abraxas goes to sleep, knowing his weirdly realistic dream is over. He feels a bit sad, because Neil felt so real. And Andrew and Kevin were just a heartbeat away from him as well.
He wants to meet them next time he has a dream like this.
But then he wakes up.
And everything is all the same.
The difference in the air is present. It's different from his reality. The contract is in his duffle bag along with his gear. It shouldn't be possible. He pinches himself and yelps from the pain. He takes a cold shower to shock himself out of it. To go an extra mile, he even eats a chili pepper, hoping that is going to wake him up because this is turning into a nightmare.
Instead now his mouth is hot, panting as he looks at his phone. There are several missed calls. He makes the call on the unknown number.
“Hello” he lets out, shaken to his core.
“Will you be joining?” Wymack's voice is heard.
“I…” Abraxas breathes, “I…” he looks around his empty, bare home. No family. No friends. This part of him was never a dream. His loneliness had always been his reality. But it seems like his reality is changing.
Maybe he has read too many books. But he tried everything to wake up.
And he doesn't want to wake up anymore now.
If there's a chance his reality will change, he's gonna take it.
“I will,” he replies. “Join, I mean. I will be joining the foxes.”
To Abraxas changes weren’t something usual. Heck, nothing in his life for the past four years had ever changed.
He never thought a change would be so scary.
He never thought he would be so afraid.
He could only hope never to wake up again.
#canon x oc#oc#character x oc#male oc#bl romance#aftg kevin#aftg fanfic#aftg neil#aftg fandom#aftg trilogy#aftg andreil#aftg andrew#aftg#all for the game#the foxhole court#tfc fic#tfc#fanfiction#andrew minyard#neil josten#neil josten x oc#andrew minyard x neil josten#Andrew minyard x oc#neil josten x andrew minyard x male! oc#kevin day#the kings men#tkm#the raven king#trk#ao3
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
I’m not a Christian (OBVIOUSLY) but I am a very heavy polytheist, and I do somewhat recognize YHWH and Jesus as mythological figures in the same way that I think of Odin and Loki. I don’t worship or work with them in any regard, never contacted them, have no idea of what their energy is like. (I have contacted and worked with YHWH before tho)
Not to say that I don’t believe in them, but more so that I know that those who believe in them, very much do believe in them. Does that make sense?
I have a lot of respect for the Gods, even those who i do not worship. Including the Christian God and Jesus Christ. It strikes a special chord in me when self proclaimed Christians bastardize their scripture or completely disgrace it. If i saw a devotee of Odin saying that war is great and that all the homeless need to die, Id be equally as bothered as I am when I hear Christians enforce values that would make Jesus cringe. If you’re really a Christian, and you love that guy as much as I love Lucifer or Inanna or Ra, holy shit… follow his scriptures.
How could you possibly say or do these things knowing that your God is looking down on you? I can’t imagine it, it makes me think they identify as Christian for virtue points but don’t actually believe God is watching them or something.
The first time I ever broke one of Lucifer’s commandments, I was ordered to draw his sigil on my throat. The idea of the lesson was to think of your God before you open your mouth. As a devotee it is my duty to uphold his values and to embody his principles in everything I do. Before I speak, I think about whether what I’m saying could abandon those values. As a devotee I speak for more than just myself, I represent Luciferians and I am a manifestation of my God’s influence. When I do something he doesn’t approve of, I feel it immediately, and I’ve seen that same relationship between other devotees and their gods. They keep us in check. I don’t know much about Freyja but I do know her devotees don’t fuck around with her honour. So many Christians seem so unconcerned with the honour of their God. Like, why even be a Christian at that point. Ykwim???
#witchcraft#magick#occultism#pagan#paganism#witch community#demonology#witch aesthetic#witchblr#grimoire#polytheistic#luciferian
20 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
noah-e-swim-blog
Orange You Afraid of Rhymes?
storychalk0
The Journey of Bekker 397
tenutadelconte
Senza titolo
simnan123
Untitled
flowergirl25341
Sky Cycle Heroes AU