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rahorak · 27 days

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@piltover-sharpshooter swore an oath : ⭐️ for Kayle and Leona of course!

Send ⭐️ for a headcanon about our muses.

I'll give u a few 'cause I'm generous ( And they're my favs. ) Above all, I love that as people they're so different. Their world views are almost polar opposites, and yet . . . perhaps there's things that they have in common, depending on the portrayals of each character. There's room for tonnes of angst, though, imo. For the sake of simplicity, I'll go off of what we know about canon Kayle and mix in a dash of my own ideas which, you're free to pluck from as you see fit should you want to! Plus what I could read from yours.

Let's do something fun and let my STARSET playlist decide on a few ( Vague. ) scenarios for us. They're one of my favorite bands and def have some vibes that fit these two, I'd say.

Few honorable mentions songs that I wanted to include but made the post too long are : SOLSTICE, DIE FOR YOU, ICARUS, OTHERWORLDLY, Telepathic, Dark On Me.

➤ㅤEARTHRISE.

Then I saw you from a distance, you were worlds away — Oh, but you had me from the vision, I never looked away, again . . .

A first meeting between Aspects. I strongly headcanon that the Aspects and their hosts can sense each other, like a truly magnetic pull or push kind of feeling when they draw near one another. Whether it's the former or the latter depends on the dynamic the Aspects have, so for example, the Sun and Moon have both ; there is a strong pull towards each other and yet they push apart like magnets at times.

Whether Kayle and Leona would feel a push or a pull when near each other, especially the first time, depends on Justice and Sun's standing at that time — but what if they were good? What if they were great?

What if they were drawn to each other from the get go? Would they give in to the feeling, or would they fight it thinking it was strange or refuse to let an outside force decide their course of action?

They said that we both were too different, that all of the shine would fade away. But I wish that I never listened, 'cause you pulled me through the grey . . .

This might be angsty but hear me out. Because their view points are so different, what if they fell apart as quickly as they collided? But because they are drawn to each other, they keep repeating this cycle of breaking up and making up?

Or, their duties lead them to different places where the other can't go. Maybe physically, maybe emotionally or mentally. They keep going without each other for extended periods of time because they both put their duties first, but they can't help but seek each other out when there's a window to do so.

What if Leona can't condone what Kayle does, or Kayle can't see past Leona's soft heart — her forgiveness even of those who wronged her?

➤ㅤHALO.

I can see you running, running, every night from the same darkness. It's coming, coming, but you are not alone . . .

What if Kayle struggles with a few things. What if her faith in herself and what she does wavers? What if she has to deal punishment to a particularly heartbreaking case? What if doubts about what happened with her sister creep in?

Leona would be there. She would help Kayle back on her feet, even if that that means casting aside her own thoughts and feelings on the matter to support her. To help her be the person she needs to be. But she would always support her, be the voice of reason or the one who takes hold of her hand and tells her it'll be okay. They don't even have to have anything much going on — Leona would do this out of the goodness of her own heart . . .

Send out the signal and I'll fly low, if it means the death of me, I won't let go. And if I'm lost in the world's shadows, I'll use the light that comes to me from your halo, your halo . . .

. . . And maybe Kayle struggles with that, too. The fact that Leona just wants what's best for her, and the fact that she never asked her to care as much as she does. Maybe she struggles to understand why. Maybe she'd try to repay her by doing something for her in turn, or maybe she'd even descend from the skies should Leona find herself in grave peril.

Maybe, I don't know, Kayle would struggle to understand why she herself cares so much? Maybe a mid life crisis is inbound? Or maybe she's fine with the fact. Who knows.

What matters is that in the end of the day, they somehow have each other's backs. They're capable in their own rights, but knowing that someone else would take a blow for you should the need arise? Chefs kiss.

➤ㅤSATELLITE.

Far across the emptiness I walk the night, and search the silence in the dark you left behind. I seek the stars above the world to be the guides, but they all pale against the light in your eyes . . .

And what if they are parted? Kayle taking the mantle after her mother, or some other duty binds her to leave Leona perhaps for good. Perhaps they just managed to form a strong bond when one of them gets called away, or fate spins its wheel and pushes them apart. Maybe one of them is lost somewhere. Maybe they're both lost, without each other.

Having tasted what it's like to love, to really care, perhaps even to sacrifice a part of yourself in order to be with that person, to surrender oneself. All of these things leaving them both yearning . . .

And I won't suppose to know why you walked away, but I can feel you pushing through beyond the space. To send your energy to me and I'll push through, send your signal home and bring me back to you . . .

. . . And feeling that pull once more, as the other draws close. It's just a brief moment, at first. But the sensation returns, and stays a little longer each time. They reunite, either the way they left each other, or different — maybe one of them has changed in some way, or both of them. In any case. Their reunion would surely be powerful.

Maybe they thought they'd lost the other forever, that they were dead or had left them. But in that moment when they lock eyes once more and they just know that their bond is unbroken? That's powerful.

#❛ ✧. ooc: general ⊱ jail? that’d be tragic for someone as sexy as me.#piltover sharpshooter #i hope this makes any sense at all. i kinda wanted to leave it really really vague so it's not too locked in.#i'm good to run with any of these ideas or something else entirely i'm very large and i just love them in all shapes and forms be it #classic or an au verse. i love them so much seriously if u expected me to NOT be axtra when u ask about them u are sorely mistaken LMAO #anyways i hope u enjoyed my brain trying to make sense of all these ideas i have for them!!!! MWAH!!! MWAH!!#thank you for giving me a podium upon which to scream abt them.#rly appreciate that!

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itsclydebitches · 10 months

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Just finished Good Omens 2 and I'm honestly boggling at the Aziraphale hate because yes, his decision led to the angsty cliffhanger, but it makes SO much sense for his character. Not just in a "Religious brainwashing and sunk-cost fallacy" kinda way but also a "Aziraphale has no reason to believe this isn't the perfect solution" way. That scene among the nebula is crucial because it establishes that Crowley loved being an angel—reveled in his ability to create and allow his creations to grow kinda like plants—and the only problem was that someone else was calling the shots, someone who wouldn't listen to his criticism. Aziraphale has also spent 6,000+ years watching Crowley do good, all the while forced to deny the fact that he's "nice" lest embracing his original nature get him into trouble with hell. Now, Metatron comes along with an offer that fixes everything in one fell swoop. Crowley can be an angel again, be nice without censure, his ideas and criticisms will hold weight because he'll be answering to Aziraphale, and they'll be together.

It strikes me that Aziraphale isn't there when Crowley sees Gabriel's trial, ergo he likewise doesn't see the (non)acknowledgement that there's an institutional problem up in Heaven. There just happen to have been two archangels who called it quits. Same when Gabriel blurts that phrase out to Crowley. Aziraphale has always been more blind to the ways in which Heaven is "toxic" (for very understandable reasons) and this season he's continually sheltered from new evidence of its structural problems. The plot just preaches to the choir: Crowley. He likewise wouldn't see the conflict Gabriel and Beelzebub have caused as evidence of an underlying problem because that's a problem he and Crowley will no longer share. Why would they be worried about Heaven still being unable to accept partnerships between angels and demons when Crowley will no longer be a demon? And that's something he presumably wants based on Aziraphale's memories of him and the ongoing admission that he's lonely.

The way I see it, they got what they thought they wanted at the start of Season 2. Heaven and Hell are keeping an eye on them, but functionally they're left alone. Crowley can spend all the time he wants with Aziraphale and nothing comes of that except that they're both continually named traitors and the higher-ups grumble about it. If Gabriel had never shown up, things should have been perfect based on Crowley's "Let's just run away and have each other's company" standards. Better, even, considering that they get to be together on their beloved Earth, rather than being bored out in Alpha Centauri without any sushi, plants, books, or Bentleys. And yet... Crowley doesn't strike me as particularly happy. Because, you know, based on that kiss he wants to be with Aziraphale, not just literally be with him, but the point of this post is that his "Let's run away and be an 'us'" falls totally flat when he doesn't explain that specific desire to Aziraphale; the desire to change what an 'us' means. From Aziraphale's perspective they're already an 'us.' That was the entire point of "our side" in Season 1 and now they can continue to be 'us' up in Heaven. Plus, Aziraphale likely sees this as a sacrifice on his part. He will give up his bookshop, his Earthly indulgences, take on the responsibilities of leadership (which I don't think he actually wants for a variety of reasons), and spend the rest of eternity in a place where he's felt so small because he thinks that's what Crowley wants. Crowley was happy as an angel. Crowley wanted them to be together without risk of permanent discorporation. They were able to achieve that after not-Armageddon and he still wasn't happy... so surely those two things together will do the trick. Crowley never actually articulates how he wants their relationship to change and the kiss comes much too late, when he's already rejected what Aziraphale must see as a perfect, selfless solution he's secured for them. Even if Crowley wasn't always moving too fast for him, an overture of romance isn't going to go well after that.

Is this crushing and angsty and devastating as a hiatus? Damn straight, my heart it breaking. But it's a good setup. More importantly, it makes perfect sense for their characters, particularly when they're still talking past one another. Aziraphale is someone who has always moved more slowly as a matter of course, as an angel he has remained immersed in the rhetoric of Heaven, his main avenue of breaking free of that (Crowley) has a huge communication problem (to say nothing of his own denial. He only made headway with the help of Nina and Maggie, seconds before Aziraphale shows up), and Metatron (in a no doubt incredibly manipulative manner) has just offered Aziraphale a job that presumably makes him happy AND Crowley happy AND allows him to maintain the moral this-is-how-the-universe-works perspective he's had since he was literally created. Of course he's going to say yes to all that!! And sure, there are problems in Heaven, Aziraphale isn't completely blind, but he can fix them now that he's in charge. How? Well... he'll figure that out later! Kinda like how he's been making plans on the fly this entire season. That seems logical from his perspective, right? It's not like he's gotten a crash-course in the concept of the master's tools never being able to dismantle the master's house...

#Good Omens #Good Omens spoilers #Good Omens 2 #Good Omens 2 spoilers #GO2 #GO2 spoilers #mymetas #this is so rough and I'll probably write better metas later #but I just have FEELINGS RIGHT NOW OKAY

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lostgirlmuseum · 7 months

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Who the Hell is Daryl?

Summary: Bucky is in love with you, and finally finds the courage to tell you. But what happens when it sounds like someone else is already in the picture? (Miscommunication!)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Avenger!Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings: Miscommunication trope! Only one small mention of “Y/N”, teensy bit of yelling, let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: Wrote this a couple days ago and put it in drafts, spontaneously posted bc I'm procrastinating on an essay. Okay I'll get back to hw now :(

Dividers: @firefly-graphics

He was going to do it. He was really going to do it.

He was finally going to ask you out.

-----

To the surprise of everyone on the team, you and Bucky had become fast pals after you joined six months ago. Something about the two of you clicked. ‘Opposites attract’ and all that, but Bucky always felt it went deeper than that.

The two of you had never argued, something he felt very proud of, considering he argued with most people. But not you. Never you.

The moment he decided that he needed to man up and ask you out wasn’t anything fancy. You were sparring with Wanda across the gym, and he was simply watching you work in tandem. He watched the entire 15 minute session, and didn’t take his eyes off you, even as you approached him.

“Buck, I’m out of water, can I take a sip of yours?”

He nodded, “Sure, Doll,” and tossed you his bottle.

You shot him a charming smile and opened the cap, and not-so-gracefully chugged half the bottle. You wiped your upper lip and handed it back to him.

“Thanks, Jamie,” you breathily said, and jogged back to the arena.

His head was completely empty except for a single thought, tumbling through his desert mind like a tumbleweed.

I’m going to marry her someday.

He shocked himself with the thought, he wasn’t sure where it had come from. But he couldn’t help the grin that snuck its way onto his lips as he realized he didn’t disagree with the thought.

Of course before marriage is dating. One step at a time Buck.

After his realization, he had spent the next three days planning the perfect way to ask you out. He went through an entire list of ideas, but none of them seemed good enough for you. He wanted it to be perfect. But as the clock ticked on and he started running out of paper, he realized it was best to just be honest about his feelings.

You had just gotten back from a solo mission, and Bucky was hanging out in your room as you showered.

He was blushing like an idiot and fidgeting like crazy on your bed as he waited for you to hurry up. It was surprising he had so much self control as to not blurt it out while you were showering.

“Oh, Bucky,” you called from the bathroom, the sound of the water pausing.

“What’s up?”

“Could you set an alarm on my phone for 7:30 A.M. tomorrow before I forget? I think I left it on the side table.”

“You got it, Doll.”

“You’re the best! I’m almost done, I’ll be out in like two minutes,” you called, and soon after the sound of rushing water resumed.

Bucky grabbed your phone and typed in the passcode, his heart fluttering a little as he thought about how you trusted him enough to know it.

But the flutter stopped almost as quickly as it started, the moment your phone turned on and resumed on your text string with someone. He would’ve ignored it, but a red heart at the top of the screen caught his eye.

Who the hell is “Daryl,” and why does he have a heart emoji next to his name?

Bucky couldn’t help himself as his eyes flitted over your last texts.

Daryl ❤️ I’m back in town, lemme know when you’re around

You About to leave for a quick mission, but I’ll be back tmw evening. I miss you sm :( how about we meet up Monday morning at 8 at Bernie’s cafe?

Daryl ❤️ Lets do it. And I miss you too, can’t wait to see your beautiful face!! I love you, be careful

You Love you too, and Im always careful 😘

Bucky felt sick to his stomach. You had never mentioned a brother named Daryl, or any other kind of family member. And you’d told him about all your closest friends, and none of them were named Daryl. How did Bucky not know you had a boyfriend?

Bucky fought the urge to scroll up, and quickly tapped out of the app, and set the alarm you asked him to set.

So you were meeting this “Daryl” tomorrow morning?

Bucky heard the water stop, and the sound of the shower curtain shuffling.

Shit. You were getting out. Fuck, he wasn’t ready to face you.

You’d never mentioned you were in a relationship before. He would remember. How long have you been dating? And more importantly, why did you keep this from him? Did you feel like you couldn’t trust him? Maybe you weren’t as close friends as he’d thought.

“Which movie did you want to watch tonight?” You asked, peeking out of the door with a turquoise towel wrapped around you.

“Um, I’m actually really tired, suddenly. I think I’m going to go to bed.” Bucky stuttered, avoiding your gaze as he quickly stood up.

“Oh, okay,” you responded, disappointment and concern lacing your voice. “Everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. Glad you got back safe. Good night.”

With that, Bucky ducked out of your room and practically ran back to his.

Bucky tossed and turned, and once he got over his embarrassment, he settled into a familiar depressive feeling. Of course you didn’t like him back. What the fuck was he thinking? He’s—well, he’s Bucky. Broken, only destined to ever be your friend. How could he be foolish enough to think you would love him like he loves you. At about hour 4, the heartbreak started turning into betrayal. Betrayal that you kept this from him. And soon enough, that betrayal festered into a kind of resentment, something he’d never felt for you before.

He didn’t get much sleep that night.

Bucky checked the clock for the 20th time in the past 5 minutes. 7:45 A.M. You were probably about to leave. Bucky felt his heart clench. He was usually up by 7, and eating breakfast in the common area by 7:30. He sat at the barstool, dragging his spoon around his now soggy Coco Puffs, waiting for you to appear. Why he felt the need to torture himself, he didn’t know.

Finally, he heard your steps coming down the hall.

And there you appeared, wearing the most beautiful sundress he had ever seen. It was lavender, and had small white flowers adorning the skirt, and it fell just above your knees.

Bucky took you in, and his momentary adoration turned back to his heartbreak. You were dressed up as if you were going on a date. There was no chance this wasn’t your boyfriend.

“Good morning Bucky, did you sleep okay last night?”

“Yes.” He lied. Maybe you would tell him the truth if he asked. Yes it would hurt hearing the truth from your mouth, but he wanted to give you a chance to tell him your secret. “Where are you headed?”

“To meet a friend,” you nodded smoothly.

Maybe Bucky was crazy. Maybe he was overthinking all of this. Maybe Daryl really was just a friend.

“Which friend?”

“Penny.”

So you were just flat out lying to him now. Bucky nodded and waited for you to leave before moping back to his room. He wanted to cry. And he did for a minute, or two, but his tears turned from sad to angry when he remembered you were now lying. You never lied to Bucky, and Bucky never lied to you. At least, he thought that was how it was. He clenched his fists, mad at you for betraying him, but more mad at himself for believing he could ever have you.

He didn’t move from his bed.

“Bucky?” Your voice emerged after three knocks to his door.

He couldn’t get himself to respond.

The door slowly creaked open, a stream of light flooding his dark room.

“Hey Buck. You okay? You seemed a little off this morning.”

“Fine.” He mumbled, not turning over in bed to face you.

A pause.

“Jamie, what’s wrong?” You asked, closing the door behind you and flicking on the light.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What?” You asked, slightly taken aback. You thought he loved your affectionate nickname for him.

“I don’t want you to call me ‘Jamie’ anymore.”

“Okay…”

He felt the bed dip as you sat next to him.

“Bucky,” you whispered, “please talk to me.”

He sat up and gave you a pointed look. Was he being immature? Yes. But what could he do, he just discovered that his best friend has been lying to him, and doesn’t love him.

“Where were you?” He asked.

You furrowed your brows a moment, trying to piece together where he was going with this.

“I was at Bernie’s with Penny.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He sneered.

Your eyes widened at his bite.

“I’m not lying? Bucky, what is going on?”

“What’s going on is that you’ve been keeping the fact that you have a boyfriend from me. Why don’t you want to tell me?”

“A boyfriend?” You blinked. “I don’t have a boyfriend,”

“Why won’t you be honest with me?” He yelled, and you scooted back.

“I am!”

“Then who is Daryl?”

“What?”

“I saw your texts last night, when you asked me to set your alarm.” Bucky looked down at his lap, ashamed.

“Bucky,” you sighed, and a look of understanding crossed your face. A moment later you held out your phone to him.

“What?” He asked, dumbly looking at your outstretched hand. The screen was on your text string with Daryl.

“Call the number.” You simply said.

“What?” He repeated.

“Take my phone, and call the number.”

Confused and suspicious, Bucky grabbed your phone and hesitated over the call icon.

“Go ahead,” you urged.

He pressed the button.

Ring.

Ri—

“Hey!” A familiar feminine voice rang through the speaker. “What’s up hon?”

“Hello?” Bucky said, looking from the phone to you to the phone.

“Uh, hi? Is that Bucky?”

“P—Penny?” He sputtered.

“Hey Bucky! What’s up, is everything okay? I thought Y/N was calling.”

“Hey Pen,” you interjected, “Everything’s fine, I’ll call you back in a bit, kay’?”

“Sure thing, bye, love ya,” Penny added, and hung up.

Bucky stared at the now blank phone, baffled.

“I don’t understand.”

“Bucky,” you sighed, and tilted his chin to look at you. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Penny is in my contacts as “Daryl” because it’s my funny little nickname for her. My Dad has had a best friend since grade school named Daryl, and they don’t see each other often, but when they do it’s like nothing has changed. They get along like no time has passed. I call Penny “my Daryl” because I know that even if we don’t talk for years, we are so close that I know we would be the exact same.”

Bucky sat quietly for a moment, simply taking in your story. He felt really stupid.

“I’m sorry,” he started, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry I called you a liar.” He struggled to meet your gaze, ashamed of what he did.

“Jamie—can I call you Jamie now?”

He nodded sheepishly.

“Jamie, I forgive you. But I wish you had just talked to me about it, and asked me. We are usually so good about being open with each other. What happened?” You asked, wide eyes looking into his.

“I know, I’m sorry. I flipped out, I guess I was just shocked, because I was going to—” he licked his lips, “well, I was…”

“You can tell me, Bucky. Honesty, remember?” You soothed, placing your hand on his leg.

He gulped.

“I was going to ask you to be with me.”

You tilted your head, not quite understanding.

“Like, I was gonna ask if you’d let me be your boyfriend.” He mumbled. “So when I saw that you were texting and saying ‘I love you’ to some guy, I guess I was just blindsided.”

“James,” you smiled, moving yourself to sit on his lap. You brought your forehead against his. “You silly, jealous man.” You gently stroked his cheek with your right hand. “You want to be my boyfriend?"

"It sounds so juvenile, I don't know, I just want you to be mine, and for you to call me 'yours,'" he mumbled.

"I accept," you giggled, and watched his glittering eyes shoot to yours.

He had started to say something, but he stopped when you brought your soft lips to his.

“I'm so happy,” he whispered between kisses.

Suffice it to say, Bucky completed step one of the path to marrying you.

A/N: Tysm for reading! If you liked it, please feel free to let me know!

Also I'm sorry if the ending sucks, I wrote this in a couple hours and Idk why I'm so bad at endings gahh

Here's my Masterlist if you'd like to read more!

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x female reader #Bucky miscommunication #Bucky barnes miscommunication #jealous!Bucky #avenger!reader #bucky x avenger!reader

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reiderwriter · 8 months

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Elevator Pitch

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 2k!!

Warnings: Smut, fingering, semi-public sex/ foreplay, praise kink-ish, some pet names completely ignored Spencer's germophobia to make this work 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: Getting trapped in an elevator is never fun, but at least the attractive you're sharing the metal box of death with has an interesting idea about how you can pass the time.

A/N: This is just a really quick drabble for @imagining-in-the-margins Meet Cute challenge for this month!! I have an idea for another one that I'll post closer to Halloween too, so look forward to that alongside all the kinktober fics 👀

Check out my masterlist here!

You weren't planning on running late on your very first day on your new team, but here you were. You were scheduled to meet Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner in his office at 9 a.m. sharp, and here you were at 8:57, trapped inside an elevator. At least you weren't alone, but alone with a stranger, and one who seemed to be talkative in the worst way wasn't exactly ideal either.

"Hey, don't panic. There are about 6 elevator-related deaths per year and about 100,000 injuries. I'm pretty confident about those statistics." He said, taking a sip of his coffee as he stood calmly by the door, pressing buttons and waiting for something to happen.

"Oh god, I'm gonna die in here." You whimpered a little bit, falling to your knees and screwing your eyes shut.

"No, I said we're not gonna die. Or its at least very unlikely."

"And I'm supposed to trust you?"

"Yes, I'm very good with numbers. Elevator accidents account for 0.00024% of all elevators in service in the US. There you don't have to panic anymore." Almost punctuating his words, the elevator gave a low groan and fell an inch lower, pushing him off balance and toppling to the floor right next to you.

"That was just unfortunate timing." He said, his breath hitting your face. Your eyes opened again finally, and you noticed that due to his topple, he was way closer than before, face merely inches from your own. Whoever this overconfident stranger was, he was attractive. Distractingly so, as you didn't respond to his sentence the entire time he was there in front of you, words suddenly escaping you as you stared into his dark, wide eyes.

"Mechanical issues are the cause of about 15.3% of elevator incidents. Since we're in Quantico, we can probably rule out foul play, which means that they'll probably have us back up and running in around 27 minutes." Opening his mouth ruined the fantasy for a minute, waking you up to the reality of your situation.

"Did you work an elevator case or something, why do you know so much about this?" You regretted the question as soon as you asked it, as he launched into another speech.

"I read the statistical reports published by the CPSC and the OSHA. It’s really interesting stuff actually, there are-”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way but I need you to shut up. I don’t think I can take any more statistics about my inevitable death by elevator. Can we do something else instead?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Can you… Can you hold my hand?” You felt yourself flush red the second the words left your mouth, and suddenly it was your turn to talk too much. “My mom used to do it when I was scared as a kid, and obviously you’re not my mom, and you don’t even know me, but I thought it could help comfort both of us. Human contact and touch is supposedly comforting in times of distress so I just thought…” He cut you off by silently grabbing your hand and settling into a seated position beside you and you sent a little prayer up to god to spare both your soul and your heart.

Because Jesus Christ it was beating hard now.

“Oxytocin,” he said and you looked up at him with a questioning look. “Oxytocin is released when you come into contact with other people, it’s the reason newborn babies benefit from skin-to-skin contact and why humans enjoy petting domestic animals so much. And the whole sex to destress thing.” He nodded and looked away, but you could have sworn the oxygen was completely sucked out of the room when he mentioned sex.

“Sex?” He turned to you as you said the word, as if processing the conversation you were in the middle of it.

“Yeah, never heard of it?” You rolled your eyes and squeezed his hand in your own for a second, but his body was leaning closer into yours now, his entire attention on you, as if he expected you to answer the question.

“Of course I have.”

“And what do you think? Can it help you de-stress?”

Your mouth moves before you can stop it. “Can we stop talking about this please, I’m already scared, I don’t need to be scared and horny.” You close your eyes and groan as his widen again, and suddenly you’re praying again, but this time you wouldn’t really mind if you became one of those six elevator malfunction deaths.

“I don’t know, maybe it would help you. There are some studies that show that stress can have aphrodisiacal impacts in women, you know?” His voice was light, but your entire body stiffened as you looked into his eyes, trying to gauge what this stranger was offering.

“So what, you’re suggesting I just get more and more turned on until I’m not worried about death?”

“No, I’m suggesting I close the gap between us and distract you for a while.” You spared a glance down to his lips then, his tongue darting out to lick them and pulling you in closer. You nodded quickly, a small movement and he pushed his lips down into yours.

He was soft at first, and you almost felt like pulling away and scalding yourself for engaging in risky behavior during a near-death experience. But just as you moved to pull away, his hand came up to your hair and you melted right back into him, the kiss deepening as you slanted your neck up to give up more of yourself to him.

You barely feel his hands pulling you into his lap, but you’re suddenly there and so happy you are. Your free hand wanders up to his chest as he squeezes your connected digits again, sending your heart into a fit of palpitations. In a panic you pull away, groaning a little as you can feel his not stiff member poking between your legs.

“Sorry, I don’t think we exchanged names. I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N..”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” His lips fall down to your neck as he whispers the words into your skin, and you let your head fall back as his hands untangle from you and fall to your hips, encouraging your movements as you begin grinding over him.

“And you said we had twenty-seven minutes before we’re free, right?”

“Whose the one talking too much now?” He bit into your neck sharply then, and you moaned out, battling the urge to let him take you there on the elevator floor. From it’s perch on your hip, his hand slips down and pops the button in your pants, pushing inside and finally touching you through your panties.

“That’s it, good girl, just keep grinding down on me.” Unconsciously, you press your hips into his hands, the pressure leaving you letting out a whistful sigh of relief.

“God,… Should we be doing this here?” Your words were unsure, but your movements weren’t as you pushed yourself into him again and again, desperate to feel more of him as he rubbed circles into your clit, driving you closer and closer to your peak.

“Let’s assume for now that the elevator malfunction has wiped out the CCTV,” he says, lips pressing against your skin as you lose yourself in his touch again. “We absolutely should be doing this.”

His words fell straight to your core, and you felt yourself grow more aroused as you pondered being caught in such an intimate position with a stranger.

“You think you can cum right here, baby? Think you can give me one soon?” His words almost sent you over the edge, his smile widening as your hips twitched over his.

“Fuck, yes, yes, please, don’t stop.”

“Not so scared about this elevator anymore are you? Or did you want to spend your last moments coming undone in my hands?” With his words, you lost the ability to speak, simply moaning out your agreement to his every word.

“I think I can hear someone talking through the walls, baby, you’re going to have to cum now for me, can you do that?” You nodded to him as he increased his pace on your words, and within seconds, you were letting it all out, head falling against his shoulder as you twitched through your orgasm. He pulled his hands out of your pants quickly and pressed a kiss to your lips, pulling you up to a standing position and making you look presentable as the doors to the elevator were finally pried open from the other side.

“Hey, how are you guys holding up in there?” The call came from the maintenance staff, and you were sudden;y thankful that he’d finished you off when he did because as horny as you’d been, actually getting caught like that was something entirely different than the fantasy of it.

You’re almost sorry that you have to leave when you do, suddenly absolutely involved in helping him “destress” the same way he’d helped you out. But he removes his hands from you and strikes up a conversation with the maintenance staff working to get your elevator level with the floor doors. You gravitate to the back of the stall, gripping the railing while your brain catches up to the circumstances.

In no time, the elevator is back in working order, and you and your stranger are stepping foot on steady ground again, and saying your goodbyes.

“Aaron Hotchner’s office is through those doors. Up the stairs to the left.” He smiles and nods at you before turning down the corridor and leaving you there by yourself. A glance at your clock tells you you’re too late to question his words, and how he even knew where you were going. You take off down the hall, ready to profusely apologize to your new boss and pledge to take the stairs for the rest of your days.

When Hotch finally greets you, he has already heard about the elevator malfunction, and all is thankfully forgiven. You have to bite your tongue before asking if everyone on this floor is psychic. But you’re still late, and you have a case, so your introductions have to take place in the briefing room and you half-run, half-walk behind the older man as he makes his way down the hall.

“Everyone we have a new team member today, please help her out for this first one and show her the ropes.” He introduces you by name, and you’re suddenly doing your best to memorize the names of a Prentiss, a Rossi, a Morgan, a JJ, and one Penelope Garcia. They seem to be waiting for someone else, but with the clock ticking, Penelope begins debriefing you on the next case.

“Sorry I’m late,” a voice calls from the door, and you feel the hairs on your neck stand up in shock as everyone slowly turns to greet the newcomer.

“What time do you call this?” Morgan laughs as the familiar man approaches, and a quick glance around tells you that the only seat left at the table, which had been so obviously reserved by the pile of paper files in contrast to everyone else's digital alternatives, was right next to you.

“Spencer, we have a new team member, this is Y/N. She’ll be joining us on cases from today onwards.” Hotch quickly says, and you lock eyes with the man just as he falls into his seat.

“I think we’re acquainted. Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Spencer Reid.” The room falls silent as he holds out his hand for you to shake, and you do your best to not show your shock and embarrassment on your face. You let your hand fall into his, the same one that you’d held earlier, the same one that had worked you up to the edge and then helped you pour over it, the same one that had pulled you together afterward. You said nothing after you’d finally pulled apart, waiting for him to make the next move once again.

“I look forward to working with you.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds smut #meet cute #mentioningmargins

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comicaurora · 1 year

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do you have any tips on writing soft magic systems? I only ever see them talked about when people are comparing it to hard magic systems or criticising it, which is a shame because I love systems where magic is just in the background being unimportant, with implied rules that will never be explained

god I wrote up like eight paragraphs of explanation and I was really working out some cool stuff there and then the app glitched and destroyed it all and I'm so upset

Unfortunately this reduces to a previous problem, which is "figure out how Tolkien did it and then do that."

Middle Earth is laden with magic. Hobbits being good at hiding is magic. There's a random throne in the ruins at the end of Fellowship that lets whoever sits in it see literally the entire world, and that's hella magic. Aragorn radiates One True King magic and occasionally heals people with a touch. Galadriel's mirror lets people see any point in time, past or future. Gandalf knows several spells, but most of the time he's doing less granular stuff by making lights or small fires or going all Servant Of The Secret Fire Wielder Of The Flame Of Anor etc etc. Elves are inherently so magical that the words of their language are never forgotten by anyone who hears them, the laws of physics don't apply to them, their havens are magically pleasant and beautiful, and the planet itself is magical for them - flat for the elves, round for everybody else.

The benefit of a soft magic system is that it produces a feeling in the characters and audience that the world is vast, wonderful and unknowable. It's at its best when it can answer why, but not how.

Why did the old empire of men have a throne that let you see the entire world? That makes sense! It's hugely tactically advantageous! HOW did they get the damn thing? No idea, doesn't matter, they clearly made it work somehow because the throne's right there. Why does Galadriel's mirror give you limited, randomized omniscience? Because while it's a useful tool if you can use it, seeing the future is a dicey and weird game, and the future can change if someone knows it's coming. HOW does riverwater in a birdbath do that? No idea.

Soft magic systems start running into difficulties when the writer needs to decide how it can or can't solve a given situation, which is a very common issue in storytelling, a format almost entirely centered on problems and solutions. For hard magic systems with clear parameters on what is and isn't possible, this is comparatively quite easy. The wizard can't magic this problem away because-

They're out of spell slots :(

They don't know a specific spell that can do that specific thing

There's another caster nearby stopping them

The object that lets them do magic isn't working

They need to speak words/do gestures/use materials to cast, and they can't for whatever reason

There's something "antimagic" around stopping them

Etc etc. The possibilities are easy to run through, because the "how" is clearly defined, and can be negated into a "how NOT." If magic uses spell slots, stop the characters using it by taking those slots away. If magic needs a material focus, break or destroy it. This prevents magic from feeling like an unsatisfying "a wizard did it" fix for all difficulties because the wizards can only do specific things under specific circumstances.

Soft magic systems can contrive answers to this too, but it can be a bit tricky to justify, and if it's Too Convenient it can feel like the magic system really just does what the writer needs it to do. When asked "why can't magic solve this problem?" soft magic systems can answer in several ways:

Too tired, sorry :( magic is Taxing and stuff so the caster can tip over whenever's convenient

They're in a Bad Vibes zone that's hindering their ability to cast because soft magic can be impeded by soft problems like "somebody was very mean here once"

That specific magic is tied to a specific location, like a magical elf forest, and doesn't work outside of it because it's intrinsic to the place and can't be replicated

There's another magical being around and their kung-fu is more powerful

These explanations work, but that's conditional on the story not making the audience think the magic SHOULD work in this situation, and this is entirely based on what's been established in the story thus far. If the wizard has been able to fly up until now, parking the gang at the bottom of the cliff and saying "sorry, fly machine broke" feels contrived. But if we've only ever seen other, intrinsically magical beings fly, the audience is unlikely to expect that the party's humble wizard will suddenly bust out a set of feathery wings as a gift from baby jesus himself. On the writing side, it's really a matter of feeling it out and making sure nothing feels too jarring - if the character who's previously displayed a certain specific space of abilities suddenly does something completely unrelated (like going from clairvoyance to slinging fireballs, or from a healing touch to earthbending) that feels inconsistent AND it teaches the audience that this soft magic system is softer than they realized, and can then make it much harder for the writer to then convince them that this caster CAN'T spontaneously manifest a power or gimmick that'll save them. But if the magical characters or objects operate within a specific space - one character that specializes in fire, one object that specializes in remote viewing, one artifact that lets its holder control the winds - then the audience will expect and accept things that fit in those broad, soft categories without speculating too much on the underlying "how" of their mechanics.

But the temptation to explain "how" is very strong for writers, and soft magic systems especially have trouble with this, because soft magic systems start calcifying into fragmentary hard systems when they're forced to explain "how". It locks in a hard-defined axiom that can be logically extrapolated. Because a soft system is not DESIGNED for that kind of internal logic, doing that will usually cause axiomatic collisions as they contradict one another. If a hard system is a crisp, geometric crystalline structure where any tangent line drawn through it will intersect cleanly with other lines in very predictable ways, adding "how"s to a soft magic system is like drawing tangent lines through a bowl of pudding - you're gonna get a lot of intersections in awkward places.

To pull an example out of absolutely nowhere, if a soft system without clear rules establishes something like "this spell can be used to summon an object towards the caster, but it DOES NOT WORK on living things", there are a number of questions that can become relevant:

Who made that spell to have those limitations?

Why can't WE make spells that DON'T have that limitation?

How is the spell defining "living things"? Would it work on a plant or a skeleton or a piercing in someone's body?

Why did you let this character use it on a living thing anyway, joanne?

In a lot of soft systems that try to lock in hard spell parameters, "who made these spells" and "why can't WE make spells" become the first and most obvious axiomatic clash. If magic can be created to do what the caster wants, why and how does that work, and why can't WE do it? This forces the writer to come up with an explanation to solve the clash without letting the protagonists make up whatever spells they want, therefore solving all plot problems forever - sometimes something like "the inventors of spells were intrinsically magical beings, like elves or dragons or whatever, and thus we ordinary scrub mortals can't make new ones." That's a functional explanation, but it reduces to a previous problem again - that this hard-ish magic system was created by someone with access to an unstructured soft system.

In a soft magic system, the only answer to the question "how does this magical thing work" is "because magic." If any other explanation is needed, things rapidly collapse into hard lines and axioms and covering for edge cases. How can elves run on powder snow, shoot targets in the dark and see for hundreds of miles? They're magical. Does that mean they can fly like a balrog or sling fire like gandalf or control weather like saruman maybe can? No, of course not, that's not their kind of magic and we have no reason to expect it from them. They're just magic. Magic means a lot of different things, and in a soft system the audience has to operate based on vibes rather than rules.

This can be difficult to balance. For instance, Star Wars has a soft system in The Force, and if you squint, every single movie and show uses it differently. It's not super disruptive to the audience's immersion because it's never framed like a Hard System with Hard Rules and it almost never pulls something out of COMPLETELY nowhere, but if you look at what it does from movie to movie and then show to show, it expands from "influence the wills of the weak-minded", "seeing the future a little bit" and "force choking" to "general telekinesis" and "limited telepathy" to "FUCKING LIGHTNING FROM THE HANDS MAN" which is a hell of a twist the first time you see it, to some even more buckwild stuff in the two different animated Clone Wars (like Mace Windu fighting an entire droid army Samurai Jack style and using the force to pull every bolt out of one of them at once, or the planet with the living incarnations of the Light and Dark Side) and the explanation never goes further than "The Force is magic, it's in everything, people who are good at The Force can use it to do a buncha stuff." It's not consistent, it doesn't have rules, but the audience accepts that Force users can just kind of do stuff that fits the Vibes of the stuff it's already been shown it can do. And as SOON as they tried to say "The Force is strong in people who have LOTS OF MIDICHLORIANS" everybody hated it, because it gave us a "how" answer to a question nobody wanted to ask and it made this pervasive, wonderous, soft magic system that Surrounds And Binds Us Luminous Beings Are We into "we are space wizards because we contain an above-average number of bugs."

As a chronic worldbuilder myself, I absolutely understand the impulse to explain and overexplain and lock in the Hows and the Whys, but as far as I can figure it, soft magic systems live and die on the writer's ability to restrain themselves from saying "how." The answer is "magic." The rest is just writing the story in such a way that "magic" doesn't become plot-breaking.

#asks #writing stuff

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talkdutchtome · 8 months

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Glitch- chapter two

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

warning . . . tbd )

series masterlist . . . available here )

a/n . . .i'm incredably sorry for the wait but here's chapter two. let me know what you think )

Radio silence. That’s all Y/N had received from Mason in the days after that night in the club. By this point it had been five days and she hadn’t heard a peak from him the entire time. The season was done so there wasn’t much work to do and after how he reacted in the club, she didn’t go out of her way to talk to him, and he certainly didn’t either. The loneliness that followed was something that came entirely unexpected to Y/N, sure Mason was one of her best friends, but she had never experienced missing someone so intently after such a short time. With that considered, she should have been jumping for joy when the day to travel to Spain; she would get to see him again. But instead, she was absolutely dreading it. Her and Mason had never had anything even remotely resembling an argument before, so she had no idea how he was going to be with her. Would he pretend it didn’t even happen? Would he apologize? Would he hate her? The questions swirled through her head in such rapid succession it made her dizzy. “It’s not too late to cancel” she spoke to herself, repeating the words like a mantra as she was packing her suitcase. Reece had texted her to inform her A- that she would in fact be coming, she didn’t have a choice in the matter, And B- that they would be picking her up in two hours.

After that night at the club where Reece sat and comforted her, the pair had become closer, with Reece messaging her every day to check up on her and see how she was doing. He knew that the pain and anxiety she was feeling surrounding her friendship with Mason would be hard to deal with and he wanted her to know that no matter what happened between her and Mason, she had a friend in him.

That’s why he was true to his word and insisted that she still came on the trip. And despite the fact that she didn’t really think going was a very good idea, she finally relented to his persistence and agreed to come. To say she didn’t feel good about her decision was putting it lightly, and that feeling was only amplified when Mason’s car pulled up outside her house. She wanted to run and hide; pretend she wasn’t in when they knocked at her door, make up some excuse- any excuse; but for some reason when the doorbell rang, she found herself walking towards the door and opening it up. On the other side of the door stood Mason; he had his hands in his pockets and his eyes fixed on the ground, not able to look his best friend in the eyes.

“Hi Mase, thanks for coming to get me. When is the flight? Do we have a bit of time to talk?” she looked at him hopeful that they could try and put the other night behind them, but Mason’s expression only hardened at her words.

“No we don’t have time we need to leave now” he said bluntly before reaching for her packed suitcase that stood next to her and turning to walk back towards the parked car.

“Okay then” she said to herself more than anything else as Mason was now already out of earshot, placing her suitcase in the boot of the car.

“Y/N hey how have you been” Reece immediately asked as she climbed into the back seat of the car, he was looking back from the passenger seat smiling at her.

“Hey yeah I’ve be-” she started to answer the question but was quickly interrupted by Mason.

“Ben is meeting us in Spain so we’re heading straight to the airport” he said his eyes not leaving the steering wheel as he started the car.

The drive and then subsequent flight were extremely uncomfortable for all involved. Mason said almost nothing to anyone, Recce tried his best to engage Y/N in conversation as much as he could, cracking jokes to make her laugh as he could sense that she was not coping well with the situation, but she didn’t exactly feel like having a conversation, she instead opted to sit in silence thinking about how badly she messed up this whole situation and ruined her relationship with her best friend. Reece’s behavior confused Mason, as far as he was aware they had never engaged much before, and now not only did he beg Mason not to tell her not to come but he was speaking to her like they had been best friends for years. When they had boarded the private jet Reece opted to sit next to Y/N rather than Mason and spent the entire time whispering in her ear and making jokes. Mason couldn’t help but watch when she laughed, the way that her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue when Reece told her a joke, she found particularly funny, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners and she tipped her head back when she laughed, as if in surrender to the sheer humility of the comment Reece had said. It was clear today that Y/N wasn’t her usual self, she was quiet and more withdrawn, very obviously struggling with the situation but in that moment her laughter flowed freely, unburdened by self-consciousness and sadness. To put it plainly, she looked beautiful. It pained Mason that it was Recce she was laughing with, that it was Reece's shoulder she rested her head after laughing so hard it made her tired. It’s not that Mason was concerned that Reece liked her, he knew that everything between them was strictly platonic, but he still couldn’t help but feel jealous. These confused him even more, not only did he not see her as anything more than a friend, but he also didn’t like that she did like him as more than a friend so why should he care if she was flirting with someone else.

“Okay so the plan is, we have a meeting with Red Bull in about two hours, they’re just going to go over the schedule for the weekend, then we’re going to go to dinner with a few of the drivers after the last free practice session. I’ve got a meeting with the FIA now as they’ve asked me to present the pole position award tomorrow. For hotel rooms, Y/N you’ve got your own and Recce and Ben you’re sharing with me.” Mason explained to the group after they had finished eating lunch, everything he said make sense until he started talking about the hotel rooms, Y/N couldn’t understand why they would share a hotel room between the three of them, it’s not like any of them were short on money. Once Mason had left the restaurant to go to his meeting and the rest of the group were walking to the hotel, Y/N took the opportunity to ask Ben and Reece about it.

“Oh, I think the original plan was you and Mase were going to share a room and then we were going to” Ben said earning himself a glare from Reece who thought it would have been best to not tell Y/N that piece of information.

“Oh, I see” Y/N spoke her voice no more than a whisper, really hurt by the knowledge that Mason would rather bundle in a room with two other people than share with her. “Maybe I should just go home.” she told the boys, really regretting ever getting on the plane. Ben opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Reece.

“No Y/N, I’ve told you this a million times. Ignore Mason. You love F1 and it’s your first Grand Prix why should you miss out just because he’s being a cunt.” Ben gawked at his friend, not knowing him to ever really use such abrasive language. Truth be told Mason was actually really annoying Recce, he didn’t blame him for not having feelings for her but the way he had treated her since finding out she liked him had been really unfair. He knew Mason wasn’t a horrible person so he really couldn’t understand why he was acting like this.

The meeting with Red Bull lasted only 15 minutes, they had explained the plan for the weekend and the rules for the paddock. During the meeting, however Y/N could barely pay attention, the nerves and excitement only increasing as it got closer and closer to the race. She had grown up watching Formula One with her dad and had always dreamed of actually getting to see a race, and now she was finally here. She sat next to Reece during both free practice one and two, only really speaking to him as well with Mason mostly just speaking to Ben. The pain of not being able to speak to her best friend during one of the most exciting moments of her life tried its best to ruin the moment but Y/N did everything she could to ignore the niggling feeling in her stomach.

As soon as the free practice sessions finished, the group made their way back to their hotels to get ready for the dinner that was planned for tonight. Aware that she would be in the presence of many of the drivers on the grid, Y/N took extra care to look as good as possible. She wore a black leather mini dress that clung to her body perfectly, accompanied by a pair of black knee-high boots. It was a pretty nerve-wracking experience, getting ready to meet a bunch of people that you have spent years watching on TV, and Y/N only became more nervous when she met the guys in the hotel lobby and all three of their jaws hit the floor.

“Do I look okay? I can quickly go and change” she asked them, unsure of herself after their reactions. All three men stood in front of her in silence, transfixed by her beauty.

“No don’t change you look great Y/N” Ben said after a moment. His comment was quickly followed up by Reece agreeing, however Mason remained silent, intently looking at the girl in front of him. The group stood in silence for a moment longer, Mason watching Y/N, Y/N watching Mason and Reece and Ben stood to the side waiting for this awkward moment to be over.

“We should get going” Mason said abruptly, taking his eyes off his best friend immediately.

Mason had told her that some drivers were going to be at the dinner, he did not tell her who exactly was going to be there, so imagine her surprise when she walked into the hired-out restaurant and came face to face with the reigning world champion Max Verstappen. Although she grew up as a Mercades fan, in recent years she had really came to admire the Dutchmen, finding his dominance in the sport fascinating. There were a handful of other drivers there, but Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off Max; he looked incredibly handsome, wearing a light blue button-down shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans. Thinking back, she couldn’t actually remember seeing him in anything other than a race suit or his red bull polo on TV before and she couldn’t help but think that he looked very good in smart attire. Across the room Max’s eyes found Y/N and was shocked by the unknown girl’s beauty. . Her long, flowing hair cascaded like silk down her back, catching the light with every subtle movement. Her eyes, like pools of the clearest water, held a mysterious depth that drew him in. Her smile, delicate yet captivating, seemed to radiate warmth, making Max's heart race. He couldn't help but stare, frozen in his tracks. It was as though time had stopped, and the entire room faded into the background, leaving only her and Max in their own little universe. Max's heart pounded in his chest, and he felt a rush of emotions he couldn't quite comprehend. Every step he took towards her seemed like an eternity, and he couldn't shake the feeling of being starstruck. He had never seen anyone so effortlessly enchanting, so mesmerizingly beautiful. As he got closer, his palms began to sweat, and his words felt tangled in his throat. Nervousness was not something that came often to the driver, he was usually able to keep a clear and level head no matter the circumstances, but something about his girl had every rational thought in his head out the window, he needed to know who she was.

Y/N had found a seat at the table that was placed in the room, she began speaking to Reece who was sat next to her. She was midway through her sentence when she felt someone pull the chair next to her out and sit down, she looked around expecting to find Mason or Ben but instead she saw Max Verstappen smiling at her.

“Hi, I’m Max” he said with a smile, sticking his hand out to shake. Y/N felt her breath hitch, not only was Max Verstappen sitting next to her, but he was talking to her too.

“Hi yeah, I know who you are, I’m Y/N. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Y/N. That’s a very beautiful name. What brings you here?”

“Oh, I've come with Mason” She gestured to the footballer sitting opposite them. Upon hearing his name, Mason’s eyes were drawn to his best friend and her conversation with the driver. He noticed almost immediately the look that Max had in his eyes as he spoke to Y/N and a pang of jealousy hit his stomach. He had met Max a handful of times before and was aware of his status as a bit of a womanizer. His mind raced when he noticed the blush on Y/N’s face as she spoke to the man. It was one thing if Max was flirting with her, but did she like it? Why would she want to flirt with Max if she liked him? All of these thoughts ran through Mason’s mind a million miles a minute as he watched the pair converse.

“So, what do you do for a living Y/N?” Max asked her and she felt a pang of insecurity. She did love her job, but it wasn’t exactly the most impressive. When she moved to London, she had dreams of eventually making it as a model, only taking the job as Mason’s personal assistant as a temporary way to make money. But as time went on and she and Mason became closer, her modelling dreams seemed to get left behind.

“Oh, I’m a personal assistant, I work for Mason” Max’s eyes lit up, not at all deterred by her job like Y/N thought he would be but encouraged by the fact that she worked for Mason, before that he assumed she was here as his date.

“I would ask what you do, but I'm already pretty sure.” she joked earing a laugh from the man sat beside of her.

“So do you watch F1 or are you just here on a work capacity?”

“I’ve watched F1 for as long as I can remember”

“Oh, that’s cool then, do you have a favorite team?”

“Well, I grew up a Mercades fan” she told him and watched his smile falter slightly. “But recently there’s been something about Red Bull, that’s drawn me to them” she continued, placing a hand on his arm. The Dutchman could feel himself blush at her flirtatious comment, the heat coming from his cheeks surprised him, he was not usually one to blush when talking to a girl.

The dinner went by in a flash, Y/N spent most of the night talking away with Max and Mason spent most of his night watching them. Just as they were about to leave, Max pulled her aside and asked for her number, which she happily gave over. It was clear that nothing was ever going to happen between her, and Mason and Max had been really nice to her, so she didn’t see the harm in giving him her number, it’s not like anything would come of it anyway.

“So, Y/N, it looked like you were getting on with Max” Reece said when the pair of them were stood outside waiting for Mason to finish up his goodbyes and join them.

“Yeah he was actually really nice. He asked for my number.” she told him with a blush creeping up on her face once more. Reece’s smile lit up, happy to see her happy after such a hard week.

“Ohhh did you give it to him?”

“Uh yeah I did” she told him suddenly feeling very nervous.

“You gave him your number?” she heard a familiar voice come from behind them. She turned around to come face to face with Mason who stood there with an unreadable expression on his face. Panic set in for Y/N, Mason was clearly not happy, and she didn’t exactly know what to say.

“You gave him your number?”

Tag list-

@nightlockcornucopia @jaydensluv @girlytots19 @formula1mount @alwaysclassyeagle @aundercover @sofifiia @dessxoxsworld @lpab @lorarri @thelovehypothesis @torrie421 @ironmaiden1313 @celesteblack08 @glow-ish @urfavouritef1girly @alwaysclassyeagle @barnestatic @simxican @formula1mount @charli123456789 @mac-daddy-210 @lazybot @imguce @azxulaa @mehrmonga @sunny44 @skepvids @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @chimchimjiminie16 @tyna-19 @hoely-maria @stevesworld9 @f1lov3r @elliegrey2803 @heyyhelloohii @landosgirlxoxo

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x y/n #mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #football x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fics #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n

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disneyprincemuke · 5 months

Text

first podiums * aa23

it’s her first win in formula one as a female driver and her boyfriend can’t be any happier for her

pairings: alex albon x reader!driver

notes: NOT in any way, shape, or form related to vettel reincarante calm ur horses.. i also sincerely apologise to all the anons sending in requests while i just keep posting logan shit 😭😭 i’m genuinely trying my best please forgive me!!

also um… this is VERY like… so mediocre… i’m so sorry for this babygirl… i will post another fluff alex fic tomorrow i sweaRRR I’M BETTER THAN THIS

(f1 masterlist)

you hadn’t even realised you’d won the race. all the cheering your engineer and team principal had screamed into your ears through the radio hadn’t fully registered. not until you drove into parc ferme and you were guided to the signage with the number one on it.

you couldn’t even climb out of your car, until a figure towered over the halo, causing you to look up. the driver you’d held off for the better part of the last ten laps of the race greets you with a wide smile, gesturing for you to get out of the car and says something about celebrating.

once you climb out of you car, you’re immediately greeted with a tight hug and praises from the veteran driver.

“oh, you raced that so well! i couldn’t find a way past you in those last laps,” max says to you, patting your helmet firmly. “you deserve this. congrats.”

“thank you,” you’d answer him before he walks away to greet other drivers driving into parc ferme.

but you waste no time. you quickly run over to your team, held back by the barricades, and throw yourself into the sea of arms where they sing you praises and pat your back. it’s exhilarating to be on the receiving end after a long weekend.

it’s not been kind to you: starting the race in the midfield, only to fight your way up and be graced by a yellow flag to chase after max for that fight to your first win in formula one.

and being the first to do it other than max this season, it’s a good look for you and the team that’s brought you here today.

you thought the hugs would never end when you tried to pull away but the only wrapped their arms around you tighter, until there was a pat on your shoulder. your feet touch the ground and you’re immediately twirled into another warm hug.

you had no idea who it was until you opened an eye to meet the bright blue race suit you’ve known and loved the entire season. you had no confirmation until he spoke: “i’m so proud of you.”

"alex," you manage to squeak against his race suit, your helmet uncomfortably being held in alex's arms.

you can hear him giggle as he reaches beneath your helmet, unclipping the harness before he helps you to pull off your head. "hey, race winner! you were amazing out there!"

"how'd you get here so fast?" you laugh, looking around for his car.

"i finished p4 today," he smiles.

you throw your head back in a softer laugh, yanking off your balaclava. you tear away the hair tie that held your hair up, fluffing it out after it'd been stuck to your head for the better part of the past two hours.

"that's amazing, alex! that's a good race!"

"yours is even better! you won!" he beams. "speaking of that, i do have a surprise."

"what are you talking about?"

alex reaches for something behind him, probably held onto by somebody else. you try to move your head around his body to see what it is, but he's quick to counter your gaze by moving himself to where your eyes wander.

"congratulations," alex smiles, moving his hand between your bodies, presenting to you the biggest bouquet to flowers you've ever seen in your life. "these are for you. there will be more later after the podium."

"aren't we going to the nightclub with the guys after the podium and press?" you whisper, taking the flowers into your hands and taking a step towards him. "you guys have got that new race winner tradition, don't you? since you guys kinda run the grid now?”

"you're not much of a drinker - i'm sure they'll understand," alex shrugs with a small smile. "besides, would you rather spend the evening with tons of drunk losers, or just one sober loser - whom you're very much in love with?"

“i guess the latter does sound very romantic,” you smile sweetly, letting him pull you in with a hand on your waist. “you are planning something romantic, right?”

“of course. it’s my baby’s first win in formula one,” alex smiles, leaning down with puckered lips.

you wrap a hand around his neck, reeling him in to connect your lips. the moment is so intimate that you almost don’t notice the flashing lights that surround you.

but it doesn’t go past alex. if he could have all the privacy in the world and do whatever he wants with you, he would. so, he does the one thing he thinks would help him avoid headlines and your pictures plastered everywhere in the morning.

he lifts his helmet to hide your face away from the cameras, allowing you to share whatever’s left of your intimate moment. he pulls away and rests his forehead on yours. “you’re a race winner. when we get back home, we can make our trophies kiss.”

“that’s cute. they’re like our little kids,” you giggle, nudging his nose with yours. “i’ll see you in the car after i’m done with everything? look cute, okay?”

being on the top of that podium step was more exhilarating than you could ever imagine. to hear the crowd chant your name, to listen to your national anthem being blasted for everyone to hear and to watch your loved ones huddled together in the crowd for you is a feeling you’ll never be able to shake off.

in the far corner, you could see alex forcing logan to take a video of you, probably telling him off about which angle to hold the phone at to make you look flattering.

you almost burst into tears when you watched the rookie shove the phone back into your boyfriend’s hands and walk away, shaking his head in disappointment.

with every step you took in the paddocks thereafter, somebody is quick to stop you in your tracks. whether it’s for a picture, a short greeting for your performance, or just a hug. it’s all managed to make you feel a little overwhelmed.

and tired. because by the time alex managed to get you all to himself, it’s practically midnight and all the remaining energy had been squeezed out of you.

you weren’t even able to make a friendly appearance at the nightclub that max had invited you out to. your boyfriend had to practically drag you out of your driver’s room before you passed out in there entirely.

here you are, in your hotel room surrounded by takeout and a pint of chocolate ice cream. your ipad is propped up by several pillows with a random youtube video playing in the room.

“love,” alex hums, reaching out to pause the video. he rolls on his stomach, tapping your shoulder. “i hope you were able to enjoy your first win. i know you’re quite tired.”

of course, you’d been dozing off with the takeout box in your hand. but alex had put in so much effort in making his hotel room feel like a celebration after all your efforts throughout the evening that it would have felt rude — illegal, even — to politely decline from how drained you are.

“love, of course, i enjoyed everything,” you smile, putting a hand on his cheek. you tilt your head and let your hair fall past your shoulders. “i’m sorry, i wish i had more energy to go out and do something. we could have gotten some drinks and celebrated with the guys.”

alex leans into your touch, closing his eyes momentarily. “i hope my simple setup didn’t disappoint. i would have gotten us some wine, but ya know… you don’t really drink.”

“hey, i love cranberry juice,” you grin, pinching his cheek very slightly. “thank you. for all of this, and the flowers. you really didn’t have to — it’s not like i’d won the championship?”

“oh, you’re aiming for that next,” alex smiles with a nod. “not before me, though! you’re going to have to fight me for that championship.”

“ah, i wouldn’t speak so much for someone who can’t beat me in mario kart,” you roll your eyes playfully.

alex raises his eyebrows, sitting up in disbelief. “yeah? you got the energy to beat me in mario kart right now?”

“i always have the energy for that!” you shriek when alex yanks you into his body, trying to avoid spilling the food onto your white bedsheets. “alex, the food!”

“eat faster so we can play mario kart! come on!”

#alex albon x reader #alex albon x you #alex albon #formula one #f1 #f1 x reader #aa23 #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #f1 fanfic

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mindfulstudyquest · 2 months

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❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝗽𝗿𝗼 𝘁𝗶𝗽𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮'𝘀

having good grades doesn't necessarily mean you're smart, a test or exam can't always determine someone's intelligence, but it's academic validation we crave, right? so here are some tips thanks to which you will get straight a's.

𝟭. understand what the professor wants ( 🪼 )

learning the entire book by heart is tiring and basically useless. we take our education seriously, but it's impossible to know everything about everything, so inevitably there will be topics we can gloss over. check old tests, listen to the teacher during the lecture, talk to students who have already attended the course and passed the exam. understand which aspects your professor particularly cares about and concentrate on those, your exam will certainly go well.

𝟮. strengthen your memorization ( 🦋 )

very often the amount of things to study is just too much and, even though you spend all day in the library rereading the topics again and again, you feel that it is not enough. you get confused, you forget steps, you get lost in the labyrinth of the subject. investing in understanding your form of memorization will benefit you in the long run. identify your type of memory (spatial, photographic, echoic, etc.) and focus on how to improve it. having a good memory will make your studying for the exam much faster and easier.

𝟯. pay attention in class ( 🫧 )

attend all lectures and take notes. much of your studying comes from your professor's lecture. underline the important things in your textbook, carefully follow their speech and - if there are any - their powerpoint slides, writing only the things that the teacher adds and which are not written either in the book or in the extra material, if necessary, record the lesson so you can listen to it again at a later time.

𝟰. organize your notes the same day ( 🧃 )

when i take notes in class i write badly and quickly to keep up with the teacher, shortening words or omitting passages. by reorganizing your notes that same evening (at most the next day, if you really don't have time) you can revise your work when the lesson is still fresh in your mind; if you wait too long, you will forget most of the things and you will find yourself staring blankly at pages of notes which, at that point, will seem more like hieroglyphics to you than anything else.

𝟱. use ai responsibly ( 🪴 )

artificial intelligence is everywhere nowadays and why not use it to our advantage? of course i'm not suggesting that you let an ai take care of all your tests and essays, it wouldn't make sense, however very often it helped me make a list of key points to develop in a research paper, or gave me excellent ideas and insights for projects. they can also be used to create flashcards, summarize and simplify articles, or create practice tests based on the material you will have to study.

𝟲. delve deeper into your “whys” ( 🌾 )

sometimes when i study i stare into space and wonder why i am studying something that seems completely irrelevant to my path. i'm sure it happens to you too, don't ignore this feeling. don't be afraid to explore themes and topics that aren't clear to you, if two statements seem contradictory ask yourself why, if you don't understand some passages, don't be afraid to ask a question. we study for ourselves, before studying to graduate, to work. there is no shame in not understanding, your intelligence lies in striving to clarify what seems obscure.

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prokopetz · 3 months

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The most consistent piece of playtest feedback I've been getting on Space Gerbils is that the Action Phase sucks, on two counts:

Blowing your roll in the Action Phase can retroactively make the Operations Phase minigame feel pointless, and there isn't really any provision for addressing runs of bad luck; some playtest groups routinely managed to whiff a 15/16 chance of success three or four cycles in a row, which makes the whole engagement grind to a halt, and there isn't an obvious way to mitigate that when an entire round of prep work boils down to a single roll of the dice.

The first point feeds into the second: the Operations Phase has its positional minigame, and the Fallout Phase has those lovely lookup tables, but then Action Phase hanging out between them is kind of nothing, mechanically speaking. Many players have reported that it feels like the Action Phase ought to have a minigame as well, and that it's incongruous for the portion of the phase cycle where stuff actually happens to be the least mechanically engaging.

There've also been reports, where drafts 0.1 and 0.2 would often become unplayable due to the play grid filling up with broken stations, drafts 0.3 and 0.4 have swung too far in the opposite direction and made complications too easy to mitigate. It's unclear whether this is due to the Action Phase's mechanics not throwing complications frequently enough, or due to the Fallout Phase not assessing those complications harshly enough; probably it's a mix of both.

Fortunately, the game's modular nature means that it's actually fairly trivial to rip out the current Action Phase procedures and replace them with something else; very little of the rest of the system would have to change. The trick is figuring out what that should look like.

The most obvious routes involve introducing individual actions in the Action Phase, but that's exactly what we don't want; mechanically, because we just made each gerbil perform a tactical action in the Operations Phase, and doing it twice in a row would double the handling time of an already ponderous system; and thematically, because acting "as" the gerbils' singular assumed persona after doing all that setup as individuals is kind of the whole point!

In balance, this is a good problem to have, because I enjoy designing stupid minigames.

As for what that hypothetical Action Phase minigame might look like, I keep coming back to the idea of taking a page from Gone to Hell and formalising the presently-optional rule that the players should take turns "being" the bounty hunter persona in each Action Phase. That would definitely help with sorting out the forthcoming rules for GMless play, since the players whose "turn" it isn't could step into the encounter management roll. However, that leaves the off-turn players twiddling their thumbs every Action Phase in GMful play, which in turns means either having two separate sets of Action Phase procedures for GMful and GMless play, or biting the bullet and making Space Gerbils exclusively GMless, neither of which terribly appeals.

This post is mostly just me thinking out loud, so I don't expect anyone to have an opinion, but as always, I'm open to suggestions!

#gaming #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop rpgs #space gerbils #game design #playtesting #swearing

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allysunny · 10 months

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(You're my) Antidote | Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

ᵖᵃʳᵗ ¹ | ᵖᵃʳᵗ ² | ᵖᵃʳᵗ ³

Synopsys: Carrying Miguel's child was the best thing that happened to you. It meant he loved you and you two were on your way to start a family. But what you don't see, are the brightly coloured screens in his office that tell him you are slowly dying.

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: Angst, fluff, soft-Miguel, pain and screaming? Syringes. Do mention if I forgot something!

A/N: Hey everyone! This isn't the super long 6+ word oneshot I promised - I'm still working on that one, I want to perfect it as best as possible. So in the meantime, have another little drabble I came up with! Now that I read it a second time, it is reminding me of Twilight omg. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! I may make a part 2 if people want, who knows. I hope you like it!

Miguel opened the door of your shared home as quietly as he could – he didn’t want to disturb you, should you be asleep. It seemed to be what you did the most these past few days, getting some much-deserved rest. And how could Miguel blame you?

In fact, he was the one who suggested you being on bedrest, the idea of you walking around making any kind of effort enough to put him on edge, and worried enough to call you every 5 minutes to make sure you were okay. Not that he didn’t do it when you were resting, he simply waited longer intervals before checking on you.

He took off his shoes and walked to the only source of sound present in the entire apartment.

The duvet of your bed was carefully folded by your feet, and you had nothing but a silk nightgown covering your body. The moment Miguel walked inside the bedroom and laid eyes upon this sight, his usual frown was replaced by a gentle smile, the lines around his eyes softening, giving you a look he did not dare give anyone else but you.

You looked up at him, able to sense his presence the moment he walked inside the apartment. You’d gotten fairly good at that, detecting when he got home, especially because you were by yourself at most times and longed for company. So, you just mastered the art of telling when your sweet husband came to you.

“Honey,” you said, grinning. The hands that were neatly folded on top of your (very) pregnant belly, coming up to touch him. His own reached out, and, upon holding yours with the softest grip, and placed a kiss on top of each. Then, like it was second nature, he kneeled down and kissed your belly tenderly, still rubbing circles on the palm of your hand. His hands were rough, calloused, and he loved the contrast and warmth your untainted ones provided. It was as if, it didn’t matter if he was all beat up, battered black and blue, as long as you remained as you were: untainted, safe, pure.

Miguel dropped your hands and lifted his face to get a good look at you. And the sight before him took his breath away and broke his heart all at once. You were gorgeous, marvellously so. But your energy was slowly being drained, exhausting your beauty along with it. Bright eyes weren’t so bright anymore, hollow cheekbones, big bags under your eyes.

The baby was taking a toll not only on your physique but also your health. And much unfortunately, it was slowly taking over your life. Miguel had kept it a secret from you, quietly going from and to the Spider Society HQ to meet with Jessica and Lyla and find out ways to keep you healthy and safe, but much unfortunately, time was running out.

“Miguel, you can’t keep doing this. You’re exhausting yourself and wasting precious time you should be spending with your wife.” Jessica berated him, hands neatly crossed over her chest. She had been scowling at Miguel for a few minutes now, trying to make him see reason.

He grumbled something under his breath and all but growled, tapping away at his screens.

“How are her vitals?” His voice was dark. It did not sound like Miguel, not at all, rather, a creature of heartbreak and darkness, hunting for something.

“They haven’t been stable for a while; the antidote is wearing out.” The antidote, the very same antidote he himself took. Miguel had made a few alterations to it. Your baby had unfortunately inherited his 50% Spider DNA, and it was causing you tons of discomfort. No longer able to walk or stand by yourself, you needed Miguel by your side at all times to aid you. This modified antidote was created to calm your baby down and restrain his spider abilities. Miguel didn’t tell you, but the sheer force of the child could easily break you in two. That’s why he had been spending countless nights awake, researching ways to get the baby out of you without causing you any more pain.

And while it was sweet that all he wanted was to find a cure, time was running out and you had been seeing him less and less.

Miguel shakes these thoughts away.

It’ll all be worth it once the baby’s born and you go back to normal. The pain you felt now would be worth it, for you two would finally have the family you always wanted.

“Get me more of it,” He grumbled, looking into the properties of the liquid he injected into himself every few hours. Miguel hated that he had to do the same for you, but it was the only way to keep the baby quiet and asleep.

“Miguel, the serum is slowly killing her.” This time it was Lyla who spoke, holographic figure gleaming before his eyes with a stern look. She might only be a program, but it was not like she was going to watch as Miguel once more blinded himself and lost everything. “The baby is growing immune to it, and-“

“Then make it stronger.”

“Making it stronger will only hurt [Y/N] further!”

There was no way to win.

If he strengthened the remedy, you would grow weaker. But there was no way he could sit by and watch as his child slowly killed the woman he loved.

This universe wasn’t helping in any way, with no technological or scientifical advances being enough to help you.

He would have to look elsewhere.

“Are you gonna be home for the rest of the day?” You asked him, weak-looking hand cupping his jaw and caressing his short stubble. Was it just you, or your Miggy was getting careless? He always shaved neatly, the way he knew you liked. This was unlike him. And his eyes… He looked so tired. “You look like you could use some rest.”

“Yeah, cariño,” He responded in the softest voice possible. Your Miguel was all assertiveness and control and professionalism, and you adored it, truly. But it was such a blessing seeing him like this, soft and sweet and truly yours. Little lines formed alongside his eyes as he sighed contentedly, head bending down to press soft kisses alongside your neck. “Finally home.”

Giggling, you turned (or at least did your best to) to your husband.

He on his hand refused to face you, head dropping lower and lower, lips following your exposed shoulder and leaving soft marks on your collarbone.

It felt cozy and intimate and oh so very domestic – all you ever wanted for your life with Miguel. He’d been working long hours lately. Leaving at the crack of dawn and returning when you were long asleep. That was no way to live, and you had pleaded for very long for him to stay home for once.

“How are you feeling?” Was asked against your shoulder, featherlike lips trailing the skin. “Have you eaten, cariño? You know you need to…”

You nodded proudly at him, placing one hand on your stomach once more. You still couldn’t believe you were going to be a mother. The day you found out was the happiest of your life, a close second to the day you married Miguel. “I’m fine,” you told him, “The baby’s been asleep for most of the day. And yes, I have eaten. And quite a lot, might I add, you’d be proud.”

Miguel lifted his head from your shoulder to look at you from hooded eyes.

“I’m always proud of you, you know that.” He mumbled and nuzzled your nose with his, a gesture he did when he felt particularly soft and in love. Before you could chase his lips with your own, agony surged through your body, and ache engulfed your entire being.

You let out a blood curdling scream and doubled over your stomach, hands instinctively wrapping around it, as if protecting it from harm. But what harm? Your baby was the one causing the excruciating pain, not the other way around. Still, you protectively held it.

“[Y/N]!” Miguel shouted, heartbroken. His baby was causing you pain. Again.

As the baby stirred and stirred, you felt the pain seize every single one of your muscles, leaving you momentarily paralysed. The sharp throbs that came from your belly felt like relentless waves crashing against your core, rendering you unable to move. You breathed shallowly, gasping as you clutched your abdomen and cried.

Your husband did not hesitate. He made his way to the living room and returned to you quickly, bright syringe in his hand. You would’ve pleaded against it if you could. The shots of the antidote were getting worse, getting stronger, hurting you more and more as time went by. You hated it. And yet, you’d go through the pain time and time again if it meant your baby would be safe inside it. According to Miguel, it was a simple sedative, and you trusted him.

Taking your arm in his, Miguel prepared the syringe, abstaining himself from your horrible screams. He breathed in deeply – unbeknownst to you, this wasn’t the serum he usually gave you, the one he administered nearly every night. No, this was a different concoction, something created far away, in another universe. He had no idea if it would work – for all he knew, this new cure could harm you, could make you deteriorate quicker.

But he had to try.

He injected the syringe in your arm, and you squealed, head throwing back as tears streamed down your face. Once all the toxin was flowing in your blood, he held you tightly, kissing your face and head repeatedly, whispering “It’s alright, it’s okay, I’m here, cariño…” Until you quieted down. The sight before him was terrifying, and his eyes widened. Surely it was too soon for the remedy to affect you. And was that…? No. No, no, it was impossible, it couldn’t be-

And then, slowly, your breathing evened out. Your sobs turned into silent tears, and you laid back against the headboard. You sniffled a few times, wiped your tears and turned to face Miguel. “Thank you…” You mumbled, closing your eyes. “I… I guess our baby heard you and wanted to express how happy it was to see you…”

It was like you, to see the bright side of things, to consider this a blessing rather than a curse. Miguel adored that about you, how could be so positive, even when the darkness seemed to be too much to bear. Even when the creature you called your child was slowly killing you from the inside out.

He stood up, holding your hand for a few seconds longer than necessary.

“Stay here, I’ll get you something to eat.” Miguel kissed the top of your head and took one good look at you, taking you all in. Beautiful, lovely, sickly, weak, frail, feeble, debilitated. Oh how he wished he could do something other than inject some stupid antidote into your blood. But he was working on it.

Miguel walked towards the kitchen, and closed the door behind him, mind racing, heartbeat quickening, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

He had seen you glitch.

A/N: That's it! Shorter than Holo Heart for sure. I don't know if I should write a Part 2, but meanwhile, I'll finish the long ass draft that's been haunting my dreams. I hope you are all well! <3

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara scenarios #spiderman 2099 #atsv x you #atsv x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #spiderverse x reader #astv miguel #across the spiderverse

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animehouse-moe · 4 months

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Questions Of Love In Bucchigiri!?

Hiroko Utsumi is no stranger to distilling homoeroticism into their works, but Bucchigiri!? is able to take it a step further as it intertwines with the hypermasculine idea of fighting and gangs. Because of that, Bucchigiri!? poses two questions to the definition of love and how people experience it.

"What is love versus lust?"

Truthfully, it's a rather simple question to answer (at least to someone outside of high school). The point being the depth of feeling. Lust is strong but shallow, while love moves much deeper.

And the second episode in particular expresses this very strongly through the two gang leaders, Marito and Ken.

They don't feel any way in particular about Arajin until they feel their punch. After that, like Marito says, they just can't forget about it. That's all they know about this kid, "his" punch. And that's all they want from him as well.

The point is to express superficial lust towards Arajin because of something they only experience one single time. They believe that they want the strength behind the person no matter what because of a single moment.

And it's a great comparison to make against Matakara's feelings for Arajin.

Matakara doesn't need to feel "Arajin's" strength to know how he feels about him. On the contrary, he only ever needed to fight (really train) beside him to come to understand that emotion. Even more than that is Matakara's understanding of Arajin outside of fights, and he focuses in specifically on Arajin's passivity and carefulness.

Because of that, you can begin to draw the conclusion that "Lust" is represented by actions involving violence and action, while "Love" stems more from passivity and aversion in this context. Which I think is really really great. It's sort a sort of symbolic explanation of the whole point of violence being boorish and shallow while other communication is deeper and more valuable.

"How much is love worth if they don't love you for who you are?"

Super easy example here with this one. Just look at the Love Forever stone Arajin gives Mahoro vs the friendship one that he gave Matakara.

The whole point is that Arajin's love in the hands of someone who doesn't love him isn't valuable at all, nor is it valuable in the hands of someone that doesn't love him for who he is.

Marito and Ken can only feel something for Arajin because of the strength channeled through him by Senya. It's something entirely foreign to Arajin as a person, and represents both how shallow the gang leaders are, but also how shallow Arajin is.

Loving yourself is something that's tricky to do, and obviously especially so for high school kids. I think it's well understood at this point that Arajin struggles to love himself in a meaningful way, and that's expressed by his willingness to take on Senya.

Case and point being that he intentionally used Senya's strength to try and make himself look good in front of Mahoro, and in the same way used it against Ken to the same effect.

He's afraid of being and accepting himself, so he's allowed something else to speak for him. And while that catches the eye of many, including Matakara, Arajin himself already knows that it's nothing more than a farce to save face.

It's just... really great work in terms of narrative as it bundles so many different aspects of love together to create this complicated web that all stems from Arajin's inability to love himself. Matakara loves the current Arajin, but that Arajin is unable to face himself so he runs from the reflection that Matakara offers and buries himself in lust and unrequited romance.

And that all just comes from high school kids duking it out for fun alongside mystical fighting people that can merge with humans.

It's definitely a step up the symbolic ladder in comparison to Sk8 The Infinity, but I think it's allowed Utsumi to express much more in terms of romance through implicit narratives.

These first two episodes have been incredible, and I'm loving every moment and want to share every bit, but the overall production effort Mappa's been putting in leaves me in an awkward spot for sharing stuff like this.

I really love to, and I want to celebrate the efforts of the staff behind the series, but Mappa rains on that parade with its terrible scheduling and work ethic. The credits are a veritable mess that make episodes like this an incredible feat. And I'll celebrate that and share what I want to, but I do also want to call out Mappa for their terrible work as a studio.

#bucchigiri?!#mappa studio #mappa #utsumi hiroko #hiroko utsumi #sk8 the infinity #anime original #anime and manga #anime #anime reccs #anime recommendation #anime review

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lionizingheathen · 1 year

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Please I need to see you writing something with dbf!James Potter (I would be so happy if you add some size kink too)

This is territory i haven't explored, so I apologize if it is not what you are after (All parties are 18+)

DBF!James Potter x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut, Age gap, Jealousy, Size Kink, Some Degredation, masturbation, oral sex male recieving

Bless Theodore Nott’s money and his want to date you, even if it would never happen… the money, the cars, they were both wonderful reasons to take little trips home to visit your little brother.

"I had a great time with you today, I'd love to see you again sometime." Theo said, and you nodded. You’d missed him, he was such a good friend.

"Absolutely." You pressed a kiss to his cheek, squeezing his hand before you straightened up. "I'll see you later." You called over your shoulder, and you waited for him to speed away before you turned toward your house, making a beeline for your door. You didn’t want anyone to see you getting in, this was a quiet visit, you weren’t wanting to get in any conversation-.

"Y/N. I didn't realize you were home from University." You jumped, glancing over to see your neighbor, Mr. Potter, leaning on his lawnmower, sweaty from lawnwork. God, he was so hot… you’d forgotten that, forgotten how hot he’d looked at your father’s pool party… that was the last time you’d truly seen him, you’d left for University the week after.

"Mr. Potter! Hi, yes, I'm home for the weekend, just needed to see-." He raised an eyebrow, running his fingers through his hair with a frustrated sort of grunt.

"Some boy." He finished, and you sighed, shaking your head. No, going out with him was a chance to spend time with an old friend. It was not the reason why they went home.

"My brother, is what I was actually going to say." You said, and he nodded, looking skeptical as he straightened up, stretching up, drawing attention to his waistline, your eyes being drawn down to his crotch. God, you wanted to ride his cock.

"Hm." He examined his nails, giving you a look. "Certainly seemed like you were here for someone else entirely." Why did he care? This didn’t affect him at all, he’d barely paid you any mind aside from the times that you’d babysat Harry… Granted, he was a bit more reclusive since he lost his wife, so it wasn’t surprising.

"I can't hang out with an old friend from high school?" You asked, and he chuckled, shrugging as he wiped his face with the hem of his shirt. You tried to not stare at his exposed lower stomach, the tight abs, the line of dark hair that disappeared below his waistline... you clenched your thighs and glanced away, trying to cast any thoughts of your father's best friend out of your mind.

"A friend who wanted to fuck you." James snapped, his tone coming out a little bit rough, a little bit dangerous, making a shiver run down your spine. God, if you didn't know any better you'd think that James Potter was jealous... He probably wasn;t, but the bare idea of it was enough to make your knees get weak, thinking about him taking you right and now, making you scream his name and apologize for your attitiude.

"He does not-." He cut you off quickly, frustrating you with the way that he did that with ease, placing his large hand on your shoulder. Like he did it all the time.

"Oh, please. I'm a man, I know when someone wants that. I know it very well." He said, and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms across your chest as he walked over to you. You looked up at him, setting your jaw. Yeah, he was hot, but why was he being so fucking cocky about this?

"How would you know? No one's fucked you since your wife passed away." You fired back, and he scoffed, dropping his hand from your shoulder as he took a large step back. Well, that was very telling, you knew you were probably right, but god...

"You have no way of knowing that." He snapped, and you smirked, shrugging your shoulders as you rested your hands on your hips. He was such an open book, it was no surprise you'd figured that out with ease.

"Except for perception. It's clear." You said, and James was silent for a moment before he looked down at you, raising an eyebrow.

"Is this how your father taught you to talk to his friends?" He asked, and you shrugged. Honestly, your father had never really given you any direction on how to talk to his friends because you rarely even thought of talking to them in the first place

"My father didn't ever tell me how to talk to his friends." You said, and he shook his head, grimacing as he took a step back onto his side of the lawn, walking away backwards.

"Stay away from that boy-." You cut him off, feeling frustrated. He didn't control you, he wasn't anything more than a man who was occasionally in your house... unless he was making you cum, he had no control over that, and that was simply a pipe dream.

"I don't have to do a single thing that you say. I'm an adult, I'll hang out with whoever I please. I'll fuck whoever I goddamn please. Goodbye." You walked up to your door, yanking on it. locked. And you knew your keys were on your desk. You shook your head and sighed, resting it against the door. "Shit." You hissed, and a moment later you heard someone walking up behind you.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" James asked and you turned around, giving him a small smile as you shook your head. All the frustration was draining from that situation now that you were locked out, now you were just angry at yourself for leaving your keys at home.

"No. I'm locked out and my father is out for the night." You sighed, and James raised his eyebrow, clearly not seeing the problem.

"Can't your brother come to the door?"

"He's at a sleepover tonight, so he's not home either." You explained, and James chewed on his lip for a moment before jerking his head towards his house.

"I have an empty guest room. It's getting late, come inside." James said, and you paused. While he was being nice, you still didn't feel you should come in unless the invitation was only a formality.

"I don't want to put you out-." He waved you off. Okay.

"Y/N. I offered. Please come in." He said, and you nodded, following him across his lawn and into his house.

"God, I haven't been in here for months." You sighed, taking in the house. It looked more or less the same, but it felt different. More like a house and less like a home... Lily had brought it to home status.

"It's a little messy." He said, and you shrugged. There were some empty bottles and a couple of things strwen about, but it wasn't dirty. Just... human.

"It just looks lived in, that's better than looking clincal." You said, and he nodded, sighing as he rested his hands on his hips. He had bags under his eyes, looking more stressed the longer you actually took in his frame.

"That's... thank you." He said, and you nodded. You meant it, it was still comforting even if it wasn't the same.

"Of course."

"Well..." He rubbed the back of the neck, both of you standing awkwardly for a moment. You could kiss him, no one could stop you... but if he didn't want that, that would be bad. "Guest room is down the hall. I'm going to go into my room, the door will be shut, just knock if you need anything." He said, and you nodded.

"Okay." You had nothing to wear to bed... that either meant sleeping naked or sleeping in jeans. "Shit." You whispered, and he paused, turning around to look at you.

"What?" He asked, and you waved him off. Truly it was such a small thing.

"Nothing, don't worry about it." You said, and he let out a chuckle, leaning aganist the wall.

"Well, now I'm more worried than I was before." He said, and you shrugged. No need for any of that.

"I don't have any clothing to sleep in." You said, and he furrowed his brow. Yeah, wasn't that big of a deal, excatly like you'd said.

"Oh, I'm sorry-."

"No, it's okay. I can just... sleep naked. I do it all the time, it's why my dad insisted that I get some curtains-." He cut you off.

"Ahem..." He disappeared into his room for a moment before thrusting a large shirt into your hands, not meeting your eyes. "Borrow this. But give it back." He said, and you smiled, crumpling it in your hands. You'd turned him on, you could tell from the look in his eyes.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter." James grimaced.

"James. You can call me James, it's okay." He insisted, and you nodded. That felt unnatural, but you would still do it... it was only right if he was asking

"James. Right." You paused, listening to the silence of the house. Where was he? "Where's Harry?" You asked, and James gave you a funny look.

"He's gone at school." He said, and you nodded. Right, that weird boarding school... He'd be back at Christmas then and so would you, you'd have to stop by, say hello.

"Right, I keep forgetting about that..."

"Come on, he's only two years younger than you." He said, and you nodded. Yeah, but he was always a kid in your mind, it just never left.

"Feels like he's a child to me..." You picked up the photo on his table, the last one taken before Lily passed. Harry was holding her hand and James was "God, sometimes I forget how bright his eyes are."

"Yeah, he's got her eyes for sure..."

"Does it make you miss her more?" You asked, and he nodded, a sad smile on his face.

"Of course it does. I miss her every moment of every day." James sighed, leaning against the counter. You placed a hand gently on his bicep, resting the urge to squeeze it. So strong.

"She was terrific." You said, and he was quiet for a moment, introspective as he tucked his hands into his pockets, jerking his head toward his room.

"I'm going to turn in for the night, if that's alright." James said, and you nodded. Yeah, you should too... Your dad would probably be freaking out when they got home.

"Of course." You said, and he gave you a small smile as he opened his door, pausing in the doorway.

"I'll see you in the morning, Y/N." He said, and his door was shut a moment later. You wandered down the hallway, looking at the framed photos of James and Lily with Harry before she passed, how happy they looked... you missed having her next door, she'd been a comfort. Inside the guest room you found a bed mostly made, but missing a comforter... maybe it was in the closet?

"Fuck..." You couldn't find the blanket. "Mr. Potter?" You called, but he didn't respond. Okay, so you'd have to go find him... You crept down the hall, knocking quietly on his door before opening it, hearing soft noises from inside.

"Mr. Potter, I was wondering-." You paused in the doorway, mouth falling open as you watched James try to cover his lap with a blanket. "Oh god." You gasped as the blanket fell, revealing his cock, the tip glistening. He was even bigger than you expected, thicker too, and you rubbed your thighs together at the thought of taking him all.

"Y/N! Close the door." He insisted, and you still stood there, drinking him in.

"I..."

"Close the door, please." He begged, and you shook your head, kicking the door shut behind you as you stood against it. You were fucking him. Tonight. There was no stopping you.

"Fuck, you're so big, James." You gasped, walking toward him. He was frozen, hand still on his cock, the tip leaking clear precum as you pulled James' shirt over your head, making his mouth drop open. You saw his cock twitch in his hand.

"What?" He asked, and you nodded, walking closer, watching the way that his eyes clung to your chest, chewing on his lip. He looked so fucking good.

"Do you mind if I... take over?" You asked, and his mouth dropped open as he blinked rapidly, like his body was trying to catch up to his brain. You leaned down and kissed him deeply, feeling him moan against your lips as he pulled you down on the bed. You slid your tongue into his mouth, tangling your fingers in his hair as you felt him grip your ass, grinding you against his cock. So hard. You sat up a moment later, slipping down to your knees in front of him with a large smile. He grunted, tangling his fingers into your hair as he looked down at you through heavily lidded eyes.

"Y/N, you don't have to-." You leaned forward, swirling your tongue over the tip of his cock, moaning around him as you gripped his shaft, jerking your hand up and down. He leaned his head back, gasping before he glanced down at you, looking slightly frantic.

"You taste amazing, James." You sighed, leaning forward again before he could speak, taking him as deep as you could down your throat, gagging as he hit the back of your throat, making your eyes water. You breathed through your nose, trying hard to ease him deeper. You wanted to die around him.

"Fuck, your mouth is so hot... God, you're taking me so well... You don't have to take it all-." You lifted your head, looking him in the eyes as you ran your hands over his large thighs. You wanted him to ruin you in every sense of the term.

"Make me take it all."

"God, you're such a whore, aren't you? Never knew I had such a good cocksleeve living next door..." He said, his voice sounding gruff, sending shots of electricity right to your clit. God, he was so hot.

"Mmm." You groaned around him, feeling his hand push your head further. He pushed you until you had him all the way down your throat, your nose pressed to his pelvis as you struggled to breathe around him.

"That's it baby, that's it... doing so well." He sighed, and you beamed at the praise, bobbing your head up and down as you worked with his size. He was easily the biggest you'd ever had, stretching the corners of your mouth as you continued to suck him off. You couldn't ignore the throbbing between your thighs anymore so you reached down, spreading your thighs as you rubbed at your clit. You heard him let out a small gasp.

"Touching yourself for me, baby?" You nodded, shivering at the pet name. God this was probably the hottest thing you'd ever done with anyone, and he wasn't even inside you.

"Mhm."

"Why don't you fuck yourself on your fingers, hm? You look pretty fucking desperate... so worked up over sucking my cock... Been a while since I've had someone as eager as you." He sighed, and you moaned around him, letting him fuck into your throat. God, it felt so fucking good to be used by him.

"That's it, baby. Fuck yourself faster, I know you can." He said, and you nodded, fucking your fingers in and out faster as you swirled your tongue around his cock again, making him jump.

"You sound fucking pathetic, Jesus... thank god you forgot your key." He gasped, and you nodded, reaching up to slide your hand up his chest, shivering at the feeling of his skin. He groaned above you, placing his hand over yours.

"I'm getting close... Fuck, I'm gonna cum." He groaned, and you trembled, feeling yourself reaching the edge too. God, you wanted to taste him.

"Mmm..."

"I'm gonna cum down your throat, baby. Gonna take it all?" He asked, his voice getting a little more gruff as his hips began snapping up, making you gag around him.

"Mhm." You let go, your thighs trembling around your hand as you tried to focus on taking his cum while working yourself down "Mmph!" You gasped, slumping onto his lap as you continued letting him fuck your throat.

"Oh... Fuck..." He stilled, pushing your head all the way down again, cumming down your throat. "Swallow it. Swallow. Good girl." He said as he pulled away, tracing a finger under your lips.

"Fuck, that was so hot... Seriously, Jamie." You sighed, standing up before you let him pull you back down on top of him.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah..." He brought his hand between your thighs, but you winced and batted it away. That'd been intense enough. "Mmm... too sensitive right now. And I know you're tired, old man." You joked, and his mouth dropped open in mock offense.

"You've got such a mouth on you." He looked you up and down and sighed, shaking his head. "God, I really wanted to be able to fuck you tonight..." He sighed, and you nodded. That would've crossed two things off your bucket list.

"Yeah, me too... got a little carried away though, didn't we?" You asked, and he smirked, pulling you down into a lingering kiss.

"Tell you what, you can ride my cock in the morning, I know you're dying to take it." He mumbled.

"Tired already?" You asked, and he shoved you lightly, opening one eye to glare at you.

"Leave me be, I've got work in the morning." James muttered, his voice filling with the sound of sleep. You nodded and sat up, searching for the shirt he'd given you on the floor, pulling it over your head before you stood up, pressing a kiss to his hairline.

"Okay." You whispered, and he caught your arm before you could leave, squinting up at you.

"Where are you going?" He asked, and you jerked your head toward the door. To the bed he'd told you to sleep in, obviously.

"Guest room?" You asked, and he grunted, furrowing his brows as he easily yanked you back into bed beside him, wrapping an arm tightly around your body.

"Sleep here. With me." He murmured, and you smiled to yourself, wiggling close against him, feeling the strength of him surrounding you.

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momobani · 5 months

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&TEAM hyung line + [semi] public sex

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!| smut under the cut| 0.6k

a/n: as an apology for being MIA lately, i'm dropping a hyung line post in addition to TWIHY chapters <3

oKay, mans is a freak and an exhibitionist for sure; would fuck you on the balcony in the middle of the night, attempting to wake the entire neighbourhood (later, neighbours might be taking measures about wild foxes they heard in the night, who knows). Doesn’t even have to be your balcony, like a hotel balcony might be even better since you can, in his words, ‘enjoy the view’ lol. Maybe would try one of your building’s staircases, or restaurant bathrooms, and shop changing rooms are also not out of the question cuz when you two need to fuck, y’all need to fuck right now, regardless of who might be around. Sometimes he gets off on the idea of other people knowing you’re fucking and he’s making you feel that good and no one else is allowed to, but you get embarrassed easily so you really try to keep quiet, which only makes K fuck you harder.

Fuma:

Probably the least likely to be into anything remotely public but stuff like the apartment, shared bathroom or shower when his roommates are out would definitely be an option, would feel bad for contaminating the couch so would bend you over the counter or any other furniture that could withstand the force (or the walls since he could hold you up with no effort lol). Would be open to car sex in a mostly empty parking lot - would get him so freaking hard if you suggested a quickie after your grocery run but would be real quick and intense cuz you have fridgeables. Here’s the real kicker - at a camp site since our guy loves camping so much where there’s other people in their tents only metres away from yours so he clamps a hand over your mouth and moves so incredibly slowly to keep the noise down. Or a caravan that everyone can see shaking from the outside oof-

Nicholas:

Oh hey freak number 2. Would shamelessly fuck you in the apartment regardless of whether his roommates were home or not, maybe on the beach when you’re on a night date (oh wait a minute, who wrote that?), under the moonlight, scaring all the seagulls (good, fuck seagulls, nasty bitches). Would ask you if you wanted to fuck in front of his friends (K, Fuma, EJ), just cuz he wanted to show off how gorgeous you were when he destroys your cunt, would definitely get a kick out of it when you say yes and enjoy putting on a show but no one else gets to touch you, they can just watch and drool. Also hotel pools, after everyone’s long gone and it’s horribly quiet, your swim turns into a makeout ses, which turns into fucking and avoiding the security guard lol.

EJ:

Might not look like he’d be into anything too public, but honestly, he’d love a good romantic rooftop picnic fuck. Oddly specific but yes, just something about being outside albeit on the roof where everyone can hear you even if they can’t see you. Also bonus, you can watch the sunset as you cum, very romantic haha. Gets into it more often and would pull out a condom out of nowhere, and you just smirk at him and call him a ‘boy scout’. Would probably also be into either a quickie or oral in his laundry room where any of his roommates could walk in at any point. For sure finds it thrilling that you could get caught, his dick in your mouth or buried in your cunt, might even subconsciously want you to get caught so he starts suggesting riskier places (this lil adrenaline junkie i swear-).

a/n: thanks for reading and thanks for being patient <333

#&team #&team smut #andteam #andteam smut #&team k #&team fuma #&team nicholas #&team ej #&team x reader #&team imagines #&team fics #momobani.writes

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obae-me · 5 months

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I always knew team obey me didn't have the best writers but damn that ending was a new level of bullshit, like, a concerning level of bullshit. What the fuck was that

I know... I love the game, and I think the scenarios are creative despite the lackluster writing, because then the fandom takes over and does better things with it, but there have rarely been moments where I feel genuinely... I guess ripped off for lack of a better word-- disappointed.

The very end of original OM was going in that direction, it felt from a writing standpoint that they were running out of ideas and throwing everything they could at the wall.

Which is why Nightbringer was so refreshing. They had new content to use and were really leaning into the romance concept, and giving us some angst-ier story archs. Of course, it's not the strongest story I've ever come across, but the characters have been so good I've never cared.

But the reason why the ending to season two of Nightbringer pissed me off so much was because they fundamentally stripped the characters personalities. The *entire* time, we've been told that they've been worried sick for us, to the point of threatening Solomon. And then... what, they just essentially said "oh hey" and little else?

And, I have an inkling of a feeling that this has been resulted by overworked workers. They've been pushing out new lessons, new art, new events, new product so fast that I think the writing has suffered as a result. At least thats my assumption.

But still... from the opinion of a writer it also seems like they got scared to commit to the reunion, or they had hardly any time to write a reunion, and so they wrote something last minute and hid it in the hard mode lessons so most casual players don't even *see* the ending.

I'm still going to play because I love these boys and the story gives me inspiration but goddamn. That was a so utterly disappointing.

#not writing #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #nightbringer spoilers

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funnyburneracct · 5 months

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Hi, I'm Xiao/burningrqs. this post is going to be long. Posting this from a burner so that it doesn't go down the drain when we deactivate.

But essentially, this is an apology to the radqueer community for multiple different things. I'm going to do my best to type this out as well as possible, and I apologize if I miss anything or word things poorly. I am going to explain myself to the best of my abilities, but please keep in mind that my explanations do not excuse my actions by any means.

Post under the cut.

for those who don't want to read it though, TL;DR: I was a complete asshole and I'm genuinely very sorry about it.

So, I want to start off by apologizing in general for the "burning radqueers" thing. Not only was it just not funny, but it was also really weird. I know damn well that if I saw someone pop up with a "burningmogais" blog or something, I would be pissed. So I don't know what made me think that running burningradqueers was a good idea in any sense.

My rude and dehumanizing comments did not help. Regardless of how I view people, what disorders I have, or how symptoms present themselves, it was disgusting of me to act as though I can't be held accountable for my cruelty towards others.

The targeted posts were even worse, and allowing people to just pick a random blog to "burn" was teetering on harassment. It put the user in front of so many people who clearly did not have good intentions towards them, and inherently put the user being "burnt" in danger. I wish I noticed that fact sooner. Even if I disagreed with people or didn't like them for whatever reason, I still should not have felt as though I had the right to post stuff like that.

Adding onto that, I should have never used my ASPD as an excuse for anything. I tend to get defensive when I feel insulted, which is what happened, and I decided to bite back despite being in the wrong. I acted impulsively and out of pure anger, and then tried to defend it, which I shouldn't have. When saying the kinds of things I did, I am open to criticism whether I like that fact or not, and trying to act as though I am immune to that criticism because of a disorder was disgusting on my part.

Another thing, somewhat on a similar note, is that an apology is owed for my hostility in general. Every time it was even lightly suggested I was wrong, I seemed to lash out and get angry. This really just comes down to me needing to learn to admit my wrongs. I should not have made my inability to understand my wrongdoings anyone else's problem.

Then there's also the things I said when I lashed out before deciding to drop burningradqueers entirely. I don't fully remember all of what I said as the event happened during an episode (this does not excuse my words at all by the way. regardless of my state at the time, what I said wasn't okay and should not be excused) and the posts have since been deleted. But, I do remember at one point making harassment out to be a competition of sorts when someone was simply trying to calmly explain to my why the namedropping was not a good move. I can't for the life of me remember why I did that, but I am very sorry about it. A lot of people in the radqueer community have been harassed (and likely do still get harassed constantly), and for me to act like I am the only victim of harassment was wrong on multiple levels.

I'm sure there was a lot of bad stuff I said during that episode, but as I said, I do not remember most of it. I'm sorry that I can't apologize for the specific things I said, but I am apologizing for the situation as a whole.

The entire thing started over me not being able to handle much deserved criticism, and I stood "my ground" despite having absolutely no ground to stand on.

I started burningradqueers over baseless hatred. I didn't know why I was supposed to hate radqueers, or what I was even really hating. I joined the anti community thinking that it is much easier to just move with the pack and hate what everyone else seems to hate, but hatred really isn't that easy. It's exhausting. And realizing how much the anti community really wouldn't want me if I was honest about things made me realize that. Realizing that there are so many antis who would rather see us suffer forever due to dysphoria than see us live happily after getting amputations was rough, and honestly kinda gave me a taste of what radqueers have to deal with every single day, and it felt horrible.

Without realizing it, I managed to do so much damage to a community full of people who deal with exactly the same things I do, a community that is mostly traumatized and mentally ill people who are just trying to get by. Not even just that, but genuinely just people trying to exist and be honest about themselves.

It is not my place to dictate what is and isn't valid in terms of someone's personal identity, and even more, it's not okay for me to treat a whole community like garbage just because I didn't understand it.

Again, I do not want my actions to be excused. I treated people horribly and was a total dick, but I hope that me apologizing can at least make some of you feel better about how I behaved.

#pro rq 🌈🍓#rq 🌈🍓#rq community #rqc🌈🍓#radqueer #rq please interact #radqueers please interact #radqueer please interact

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y-rhywbeth2 · 2 months

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Something I love about BG1+2 is how it simultaneously plays and subverts the demigod/chosen one narrative (which continues in BG3, except with only the subversion. (And Halsin is not joking when Durge tells him what they are: Do NOT advertise that you're a Bhaalspawn.))

I've always been fond of the set up in Saradush in ToB, where the surviving children of Bhaal are being corralled into the besieged city under promise of protection against the entire world - because basically literally the entire world is trying to kill the Bhaalspawn: Your more powerful siblings want you dead; your mortal neighbours, and likely your nation itself either thinks you're inherently evil and are ready to kill you, or you represent such a threat that they're ready to drive you out and/or kill you just in case. Case in point: the aforementioned siege outside the city walls with the army that wants you dead currently raining giant flaming rocks of death over your head.

Some of these guys have no idea what they are, or what's happening, until attempted murder happens.

Like this discussion with one of your random brothers, a guy called Alexander:

Alexander: "You don't look like one of the locals. Are you a child of Bhaal as well, lured here like the rest of us to face our inevitable end?" Charname: "As well? What do you mean?" Alexander: "I myself am one of Bhaal's progeny - or so I've been told. I guess Bhaal's blood runs thicker in some of his children than in others." Sarevok: "By your snivelling manners, I would say Bhaal's blood runs very thin indeed in your veins. Bah-why do I even waste my breath tormenting this cowering cur?" Alexander: "Uh... is there anything else I can help you with?" Charname: "How did you get here exactly?" Alexander: "I wasn't brought here by Melissan, like some of the others. My home village was burned to the ground by a dragon who claimed to be hunting me. My friends... my family... they threatened to give me to the dragon if I didn't leave. So I did. And I heard a lot of other Bhaalspawn were coming here. *sigh* Now I almost wish I hadn't come."

Spoiler alert: He dies. Every single Bhaalspawn in that city dies*, along with everybody except a handful of commoners (*except maybe Viekang, who was not particularly inclined to murder me, so Murder in Baldur's Gate is weird.)

You, a simple peasant from a farming village one day come of age and learn that your absent father was a god, and you are forced to flee forces that are trying to kill you (in this case, your much more powerful half-brother)... it sounds like the start to some kind of fantasy epic, but instead of any fancy destiny you end up in a war torn city surrounded by castoff divine bastards just like you, terrified and unwanted, and then you die, and are forgotten.

And that's what being a Bhaalspawn is!

Whatever grand lies Bhaal tells you in your dreams about how you're special and great power awaits you (if you behave and do his will), your job is: sow death, faith, fear and chaos wherever you roam, strengthen Bhaal's power, and then be a good child and die for Father. No exceptions, save perhaps one, who is explicitly a special prophecy child, and even then is supposed to be doomed by future FR canon because they're still Bhaal's "pawn". There's also Imoen, who might be spared simply by proximity to said prophecy child keeping her alive. Non-game "canon" screwed her over hard. (FR canon and I have a complicated relationship, it must be said. All copies of those books are to be ritualistically burned.)

idk where I'm going with this, I just love how bleak the situation in the city is. No grand destinies, only a discardable pawn to be used, abused and consumed.

...And also that part where Tethyr sends an army to kill you because obviously you are guilty of "crimes against [Tethyr] and, indeed, all of humanity!" by supposedly killing a whole city: They admit they can't prove it, but you're a child of murder, you were born guilty even if you didn't actively do anything.

No, really:

General Jamis Tombelthen: "You are guilty, [Charname]. Of this there is no doubt. And we will not risk your further endangerment of us all. You are a spawn of Bhaal and responsible for the destruction of the city of Saradush*. Your execution has been ordered, [Charname]. May the gods have mercy on your soul."

* I implore you to move with great urgency to intercept the Bhaalspawn before they can do any more damage. Whether or not they are responsible for what occurred in Saradush, we cannot allow them to continue and cannot afford the time for trial... - Tombelthen's orders, courtesy of the Queen of Tethyr

#No I am not done obsessing over the Children of Bhaal: I just love these poor fucks ok #(I have an hour or two's spare time will I use it on anything important? No I'll babble about a decades old game and then get back to work)#This has been Original Baldurs Gate Propaganda Hours #Also don't hire any sex workers in Saradush: they only want to eat your blood #bg2 spoilers #babbling #long post #/durge #/charname

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