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The Winner Takes it All: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Enemies-to-Lovers Modern AU) | Chapter 4

NSFW! Minors DNI!!! Summary: The moment the thesis competition was announced, you knew your biggest threat. Anakin Skywalker, golden boy of the engineering department. He's the only other person smart enough to beat you, and the only other person insane enough to stay in the lab until midnight every night. He's also an asshole, but you're starting to think maybe he's not as bad as you thought he was... Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader CW: oral sex (m receiving), praise kink, maybe mild degradation. semi-public sex WC: 6.7k AN: sorry this took so long to churn out y'all! i'm currently at a crossroads where i could make this fic end at 5 chapters, or extend to 10 and really cook the plot. please let me know which you'd prefer!! i really love all the responses from every single one of you, and, if you all want to see the crazy shit (and smut) i have planned, i'd love to hear it! until then, enjoy this self-indulgent chapter. requests and asks are open, as always <3

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, [Ch. 4], Ch. 5, Ch. 6

Chapter 4: Breaking

Anakin woke up first. Because of course he did. Because of course the universe tortured him with the beauty of your sleeping face, naked in his arms. Last night was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and that counted winning Nationals and his first Lego Robotics kit. The previous night, when you lay down on his chest and said all those sweet things, no anger in you at all, he felt his stomach do a full flip, and he accepted right then that he loved you. Once he let the thought in, it was done. He loved you. And that was pure torture, because he knew he wouldn't do anything about it. The two of you were too delicate, too breakable right now.

He watched your sleeping face in the morning light the way a moth watches the moon, bright and so unattainable, with your peaceful eyes and full lips. Those same lips that sneered at him, that told him how smug and horrible he was. He really didn't know how he could be so stupid as to sleep with you. Anakin knew he was never someone who could keep his feelings and his dick separate. He knew it. But the second that you seemed interested, he offered it so freely, probably because he was already done for at that point. Last night, he wanted nothing more than to make you feel pleasure, to make you shake under him and say his name. And now, he was aware of what he had done to himself. What he had been doing to himself since freshman year.

The thought propelled him to get up, to move around. Anakin never could stay still for long. He closed your bedroom door softly, trying to avoid waking you up after he put his clothes back on, then sat on your couch to have a moment to think. A moment where he couldn't smell your shampoo or feel the skin of your stomach against him. Fuck. He leaned his elbows onto his thighs and put his head in his hands.

What was he going to do? Could he even do anything at this point? If he told you how he felt, that he wanted to be more than just someone you slept with, he genuinely didn't know what you'd say. What was the probability that you had feelings for him? Something other than just carnal, animal desire? He'd been noticing, lately, that you were less likely to snap some rude comment at him. That you were, maybe, just maybe, softening towards him. Maybe he was just deluding himself into reading into the soft touches last night, or the fact that you didn't kick him out. But maybe he wasn't. And maybe you'd be scared away by the suggestion that he had feelings for you, for any one of a million reasons. You were only six months from graduation, or some ex still had your heart, or maybe you just didn't want to be seen with him. There were infinite possibilities, and he didn't know which, if any, would happen if he told you. The uncertainty was killing him.

But the biggest thing stopping him was the competition. It made everything so hard between you, and maybe he would have said something if he didn't have to see you every day for hours until he graduated. If he could just run away if you rejected him to lick his wounds in peace. But, if you said no, he'd have to watch you ignore him, watch your perfect, deft hands build something brilliant.

He felt like an idiot. He had put himself in this position. And he couldn't really afford the time commitment of spending hours a day with a fuckbuddy/girlfriend/whatever this was right now. He hadn't fucked you without thinking about it, it was just that he was weak around you. Sure, he was horny and repressed and hadn't gotten some in a while. That's what hands were for. But, in all honesty, he hadn't been interested, really interested, in anyone since sophomore year. Then you came along, the one person he should hate, always next to him in the lab. As he got to know you better, he felt that lump growing in his chest, the one that meant that he was going to be hurt, inevitably. That much love never ended well.

Oh, fuck, what have I done?

He heard hinges creak, and, for a second, he thought you were up, but it was Ahsoka, heading out for a run based on her joggers and jacket. And he was wearing last night's clothes in your living room in the early hours of the morning. Shit. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened, from the timing to his messy hair.

"Hey, Snips." His voice wasn't as confident as he hoped it would be, but Ahsoka took pity on him.

"Hey, Skyguy," she said, sitting down next to him on the couch and wrapping an arm around him. Anakin hesitated for just a moment, before leaning his head onto her shoulder. She was his second-in-command, and she knew things he didn't tell pretty much anyone else. Ahsoka was dependable, if annoying. She was who he imagined his little sister would be in some alternate universe where he had a bigger family. It irritated him to no end that she could read him like a book, especially with the look she was casting him. She knew the slump of his shoulders, the faraway look in his eyes.

"You caught feelings, didn't you?" She said into the silent room. There was a peace, a still serenity to the morning, and he found himself tired of hiding.

"That easy to tell?" He let out a little snort. Of course it was.

"Yeah." For her, at least. She'd seen him cry in pain after a competitor dislocated his shoulder, and she'd seen him go through his breakup with Padme. "Well, why don't you say something?"

"I'm scared that it wouldn't work out, that it would end badly." The confession was quiet, vulnerable. Anakin could practically hear Ahsoka rolling her eyes affectionately.

"You're already enemies. You literally hate each other. How much worse could it get?" There was a smile in her voice, but Anakin was serious.

"So much worse. You don't know--I don't think I could handle silence. Anger, hatred, that's whatever. But silence, not talking, that would kill me. When we're just casual--it's safer. Even if it fucking hurts." He'd never been a guy for casual hookups. He'd never had one before. Anytime he had sex with someone, it had to be emotional for him. Deeply.

"But you already have feelings, so you're going to get hurt if it ends, regardless of what label you put on it. Just… say something, Skyguy." Her arm wrapped around his shoulders squeezed him comfortingly. He nodded, still far away in thought. The possibilities spun around in his mind like debris in a hurricane, smacking him around like a ragdoll. Everything was chaos, and he just wanted to learn more. To know more about how you felt.

"I think I just need more time. To figure out what this is. If there's anything I can do. And I can't let myself get distracted from work," he said. The problem was that, when he got like this, he knew you would be the only thing on his mind, night and day. The only thing that kept him from going insane would be his work, what he was building, but you would always be there when he was working. And that would throw him off his game by a country mile.

"You work too much, Skyguy." Anakin barked out a laugh, a resentful sound.

"Maybe." What was too much? He didn't know the concept.

Every second, every iota of willpower within him was dedicated to getting through college and getting a good job. To making a future. To making money. He swore to himself, when he learned what a bill was and why his mom would cry in her room when the envelopes with the red stamps came to their door, that he would never let her worry about money again. She had done enough of that for a lifetime. Whenever she got him a gift that he knew was expensive, his heart would break. After she bought him the Lego Robotics set, he said he didn't want any gifts for Christmas anymore, only his birthday. Said he didn't want to celebrate consumerism, or some bullshit like that. He used the set until it stopped working. And then he fixed it, and wore it out again. For years, he was angry about how unfair it all was, how the world could punish his mom this way, but all of it boiled off until all that was left was determination, thick like syrup. Then he started the odd jobs, fixing computers for people with small bits of equipment he borrowed from the school robotics team. He worked part-time at the dojo in exchange for lessons, and collected every scrap of prize money he could. He'd slip the twenties he got into his mom's wallet in the middle of the night, his bare feet padding on the tiles, hoping she wouldn't notice.

He only accepted Coruscant University because of the full ride they gave him. If they had offered any less, he would have had to go to Tatooine State University. And now, if he won, $10,000 was enough that he would probably have to make up some excuse for her to accept it, like a thank-you gift for being a good mom. Or maybe he'd invest it and take out small chunks once a month that he could slip into the family bank account, maybe pretend he got a new part-time job. That is, if he won. If.

Whenever he thought about not winning, about what that would mean, he felt a pit open up in his stomach, sucking him up whole. But if he won, a different pit opened up. You'd never forgive him for it. He knew you'd never be able to get over the resentment, the anger at him if he won. You held grudges longer than anyone he'd met before, and this would probably be unforgivable in your book. That was, if he even won.

"When did life get so complicated? If I win, I feel guilty because it'd ruin everything that we're doing. If I don't, I don't even know--I have to win. I can't afford not to. I--I just wanted to make robots." The feelings spilled out of him, letting some pressure off of his heart, but he could feel his eyes prickling. Anakin blinked quickly, getting rid of even the threat of tears. Ahsoka could tell, he knew, but she had the decency not to mention it. The arm around him rubbed his shoulder, saying I know. It's okay.

"It doesn't seem that complicated to me. All you can do is your best with your project, and with… other things. It'll all work out, I promise," Ahsoka said, with such authority in her voice that Anakin believed her.

"Thanks, Snips." He pried himself off of her shoulder, though it was a Herculean task, and threw her a forced smile.

"Oh, and if you tell anyone about this, I'll make you do sprints at practice," he added, and she laughed. Ahsoka pushed off the couch and grabbed her water bottle, then was at the door in a moment.

"I'll see you later, and… I do mean it. Say something," she said as she opened the door and slipped out of it.

That left Anakin alone on your couch, thinking and turning the possibilities over in his mind until he lost his patience and came back into your room. You were still laying in bed, and his heart ached. Anakin came up to you and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. Something you probably wouldn't have let him get away with if you were awake, honestly. You shifted a bit

"Good morning, sleepy. Let's get to work," he said.

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Anakin spent the rest of the day distressingly far from you. First, after you had breakfast together, which made his heart race in an almost embarrassing way, he had to leave immediately for a meeting at the Jinn lab. Then, he had to race to TKD practice, because he was teaching the intro, the intermediate, and the advanced group today, which was definitely evidence that God hated him. He shoved some kind of sandwich from a dining hall down his throat on the shuttle back to the engineering department, where he then sat for four hours working on replicating the results from some test Obi-Wan had run that morning. At some point, he ate two protein bars from his backpack. Anakin was so busy, he almost didn't have time to think or feel, and that soothed him the slightest bit.

Then came the thesis lab, at 10. It was packed to the brim with students. All twelve of your cohort apparently found their way out of the woodwork tonight. He checked the calendar. Seven days until fall semester submission, so that made sense. Most of them probably hadn't even started. Whatever, that just meant less real competition.

When he entered the lab, his eyes found you instantly, the way they always did. You'd saved the workbench across from you for him, a gesture which almost made Anakin pass out. He tried not to read into it as a sign of affection, he really did. He did not succeed. You gave him a little wave and a smile, asked him how his day was, and he went almost dizzy with joy.

By the time an hour passed, he realized that he had done remarkably little. He thought back to that morning, when he was sure having sex with you had been a bad idea precisely because it felt like such a good idea. Anakin decided that he was correct to feel that way, because he couldn't focus on anything right now. You bent over your lab bench to reach something in the back, and he wanted to walk over and sink his fingers into your soft cheeks. Maybe something else. When you lent over your workstation, which was across from his today, and he got a perfect look down your shirt to your perfect bra and tits, he tried to hold back the flashes of how your nipples felt under his fingers and tongue. Each stretch of your lithe neck reminded him of how desperately he wanted to suck a deep red mark right there, then watch you walk around with it.

He really was trying to resist, but he wasn't good at it. Anakin already knew he was weak when it came to you, but this was a whole new level. He was hard, in public, because of you. While he pretended to read an email sagely, a hand crept under his lab bench to palm himself, just to take the edge off. Somewhere around his hip, he remembered Obi-Wan could be watching, either now or years down the line, and his hand retreated to the desk. So much for that idea. But he could deal with a little erection, right?

Wrong. So, so wrong. Because, right in his line of sight, you were trying to unplug a stuck power supply, and you were making these sounds, these grunts and groans, that went straight to his cock. Fuck. Each sound that escaped you sounded almost like your little moans while he ate you out. He could practically still taste you, feel the nub between your legs under his tongue. When you finally got it, you let out a little celebratory yes! which was definitely something he heard last night when you were riding him. The weight of your body on him, the way your tight pussy swallowed his cock whole as he looked into your eyes, the smell of sex in the air.

The image was too much. Anakin's resolve crumbled, and his hand went down all the way until it reached his sensitive head and applied just enough pressure to satisfy the itch. Apparently, that wasn't nearly enough, because his body immediately demanded more more more, greedy and obsessed with what you were doing to him. He had never been this hungry for someone before, like you were the very air he needed to breathe. Since you arrived at the lab, it had been sheer torture. It had gotten him to the point where it might just break him not to fuck you, and soon.

Anakin took a deep, ragged breath, then turned to his project. He inspected what he had done, and he found that he had connected the wrong resistor to the top of the circuit, as well as put the input cable in the wrong place. If he had turned it on, it would short the whole thing. Probably blow out the MPU6050-6 gyroscope and accelerometer chips he had spent hours soldering on yesterday.

Okay. Enough was enough. If his horniness was getting in the way of his work, he had to go take care of it. Nothing could stop him from winning. Anakin muttered out that he was going to the bathroom and rushed off down the stairs to the basement, to one of the private bathrooms.

As soon as the lock clicked behind him, his right hand immediately locked onto his cock through his pants, stroking it as he popped the button with his left. He barely had enough willpower to take his hand off of his cock while he unzipped himself and pulled it out. He was hard, leaking, desperate. He spat in his hand, then pretended it was you stroking him. Slow, languid. Those eyes looking up at him through your lashes, telling him you how badly you wanted him. Fuck it, he thought as he sped up and twisted at the top, just like he imagined you would. He didn't have his cock in your hands or mouth last night, and he was starting to wish he had, if not for the feeling, but to have the mental image stored away. Or maybe an actual image. What if he pulled out a camera while your pussy swallowed his cock whole and wrung the life out of it as you bounced on top of him? Or maybe while you played with yourself for him, fingers shoved within you as you mewled about how badly you wanted him inside you instead?

Anakin nearly came from the image alone. He stopped, just for a second. He wanted to take care of himself quickly, but, when it came to you, he wanted to make it last. Spend time in that space where he meant so much to you. Anakin leaned his body, already sweaty with need, back on the cool metal tiles, his hand on the safety rail. He counted down from 10, just to let his breathing slow and wipe some drops from his forehead, then started fucking his fist again.

Less than five seconds in, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Motherfucker. He pulled it out, just to see, hoping it was you. It was.

Hey, you ok? You've been gone a while

You were worried about him. Fuck. Anakin sped up on his cock. What would you think if you knew he was thinking about you and jerking off? One-handed, he typed out a quick yeah, be back soon, but his phone buzzed again a second later.

If you have some kind of stomach flu and give it to me, I'll smash your bot right now

He breathed out a laugh, but it got caught in his throat as he rubbed his thumb across his frenulum. Anakin almost made a few mistakes as he was typing out his response, but managed to write back.

thanks. but i'm just taking care of something. b back soon

Less than a millisecond later, you sent him a response. How did you type so fast? How would those fast, precise fingers feel wrapped around his shaft?

Does that mean what I think it means?

He sent a quick response without thinking. No, he was not jerking off in the work bathroom because just being near you turned him on beyond belief. Nope.

get your mind out of the gutter, he sent back. But, even if you suspected what he was doing, why would you ask? Maybe you would join him, if he asked. His hand got frenzied at the thought. Twitches jolted his cock. He sent another text.

maybe

Would you want some help with that? Your text flashed up on his screen and hit him like a truck. So you were interested. Maybe you were kinkier than he thought. Maybe he should have asked you to come down here with him, whispering in your ear in the lab so you could follow him, and only him, wherever he wanted so he could fuck you until you couldn't walk.

He typed I bet you'd enjoy helping me. Being on your knees for me, but then deleted it. Scaring you off was the last thing he wanted to do now.

if u want, he sent instead.

You instantly responded. Where are you?

This was happening. It was actually happening. Anakin gripped the base of his cock violently to make sure he didn't cum while he waited. He had to be patient.

basement bathroom, down the hall from the motion capture lab, he typed.

I'll be there in 2 mins, I'll knock 4 times

Those two minutes might just have been the worst two minutes of his life. Waiting, cock in his hand, for you to get there, precum dribbled out of him like a fountain. His cock was already slick with his spit, but it had dried while he waited. Despite the fact that it had been a bit since he last touched himself, he wasn't getting any softer. It was like his body knew you were getting closer, about to touch him. Like it knew you were about to put your soft lips around him.

When the knock on the door came, he did up his pants, unlocked it, and stepped to the side. On the off chance it was someone else, randomly using this exact bathroom.

But it wasn't. It was you, your hair pulled up, away from your face, breathing just a bit heavily from the way you had obviously run down the stairs. You were excited for him, and a thrill shot through him as he realized that he knew you well enough to recognize that.

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In the lab, you had noticed Anakin was off, somehow. That morning, he was so tender to you, helping you up and getting breakfast with you. The way he made you laugh over your off-brand cereal squeezed your heart. When he left, telling you he needed to go to work, you flashed into some future where the two of you were at a run-down kitchen table in some tiny apartment you shared, spending a few precious minutes together before you had to rush off to your jobs in the city. You shook it away.

You spent most of the day working on a thermo problem set in your room, trying desperately to understand how this would ever matter to you. Sometime before lunch, Ahsoka messaged you.

Hey, I forgot my water bottle at home. Can you grab it? I'm at the athletics center xx

You rolled your eyes. Of course you'd bring it. You found it by your little kitchenette area (which was comprised of a definitely-against-the-rules hot plate and microwave), probably discarded last night when Ahsoka was studying. You grabbed it, the metal cool under your fingers, and filled it with water from the Brita in your fridge for good measure. She'd probably forget to fill it during practice if you didn't.

You decided to wear some comfortable slides for your walk to the athletics center, which was only two buildings down from your dorm. The concrete of the imposing building always felt threatening and harsh. The machines were a bit run-down inside, and it wasn't your favorite gym of all time, but they had a pool and volleyball courts, so you found yourself there sometimes for intramural sports, if one of your friends convinced you.

You scanned your ID at the front, and the student attendant gave you a look which questioned why someone wearing sweats and slides, carrying nothing but a water bottle, would show up to the gym at noon on a Sunday. Whatever, you'd be out of here soon. You bounded up the stairs to the second floor, which housed the aerobics room, where Ahsoka told you the team practiced. You saw some of the others--Cody, Vaughn, Rex--in the corner, talking to Ahsoka in their kits. You cracked open the glass door and waved her over. Her bare feet smacked on the wood flooring as she plodded toward you, a bright smile on her face. Once she met you in front of the door, she grabbed the water bottle and guzzled it down until little rivulets slipped past her lips. She was sweaty, and, even though her white and blue braids were tied back, some had fallen out and hung loose around her face.

"Hey! Thank you so much, I was literally dying," she said, winking.

"Yeah, I can see that," you said. Ahsoka let out a little laugh and told you she needed to get back to it, so you were about to turn to leave when you saw a familiar figure.

Anakin. He was in front of a crowd of students, almost all of them wearing black belts, with some smatterings of red belts, as he demonstrated some sort of combination of kicks. You didn't really know that much about taekwondo, even though your roommate was really dedicated to the team, and your whatever-Anakin-was had won about a million championships. You'd never really seen Anakin do anything, though, but you almost had to stop your jaw from physically dropping.

He moved so precisely, so agile and sleek. And then someone took out three boards, thick, wooden things, and he smashed them clean in half with one kick. Details flooded you. The way his standing foot corrected itself to support him, so well-tuned to his body. The furrow of his brow, the beads of sweat collecting on it. The taut muscles in his chest that peeked out from the slightly open vee of the kit. The way his mouth opened in a yell you could hear through the door, an angry, powerful sound that sent shivers down your soul.

You were wrong about him. He wasn't just otherworldly. He was so much more. When he moved like this, you imagined him on a battlefield, cutting through a swath of enemies with those strong limbs like they were nothing. He was ethereal, battle itself come alive, strategic and controlled and precise, but vicious.

Whatever he was showing ended, and the pupils started attempting some mimicry of it. But none of them would ever come close to him, to the way his body moved. You wanted him all to yourself, in that moment, when you realized how incredible he was. You didn't want anyone else to snatch even a fraction of him, of his brilliance. As the jealousy of some imaginary people tugged in your gut, you turned and left. You had work to do, and this was… distracting. Hard to look away from. Hard to stop thinking about. But you could manage it.

Even in the lab that day, when you'd found a bench and saved him a seat, the image of him, snapping out his hand at the wood, didn't leave you. It was like trying not to think of an object, it just kept popping up in the screech of the bandsaw, in the wood flecks that speckled the ground near the drill press. It was everywhere.

It only got worse when Anakin arrived, a few hours later, shooting you glances that made your body simmer. When he sat at his computer and typed, you wondered how you'd never seen that side of him before. How you didn't see that those hands, the ones that had been inside you just hours ago, were so strong. So dangerous. Something stirred within you. That chest that you'd run your hands over held so much power, and the thought of him using it on you, to lift you up and throw you around, made you far wetter than it should. Your clit twinged when you remembered that this very desk was the one he had lifted you up on that first night. Jump. His hands were so strong under your legs, like you weighed nothing. Not that you were tiny or delicate, he was just that strong. You looked across at the table at him. Anakin was precise in the lab, too, his hands twisting the wire in his hands under his fingers just so. Could he grab your clit like that too, and pull and twist? Watch you squirm under him?

Fuck, you had to snap out of it. You caught him looking at you, and he smiled when you made eye contact. Shit, you'd forgotten how cute that smile was when it wasn't full of contempt. It was only turning you on more.

You threw yourself into work, pulling off a horrible plug that wouldn't release no matter what you did, then typing out some words into your running lab log. When you looked up, Anakin was looking at you and breathing heavily, his face suddenly deadly serious. You suddenly felt like his next meal, and the thought made you shiver. After a few seconds, he told you he was going to the bathroom, and asked you to keep an eye on his prints.

The twelve people there had dwindled to six, counting you and Anakin, so you started to wonder if you could get away with going home early once he returned and either fucking him the second you got home, or fucking yourself silly on your vibrator when you got home.

So, when he implied in a text that he was, in fact, jerking off downstairs, you needed to find out where he was. Immediately. His strong hands wrapped around his cock would stay in your fantasies for years. And, you hadn't had him in your mouth yet. And, fuck, you wondered how he would taste, now that he had been teasing himself for so long.

The basement was quiet, empty. You didn't see anyone in the motion capture lab on your way over, so you two would probably be safe. A thrill bubbled through you--fucking in semi-public was something you'd always wanted to try, but no one you'd been with had been willing. You were sure that your panties were more than a little wet at this point, but it wasn't just that you were doing something so daring, it was the fact that you were doing it with Anakin.

The four knocks on the door came quickly, and you heard the tell-tale click of the lock. You opened the door, then found Anakin leaning up against the wall.

"Hey," he said, nonchalantly. That charm was really serving him now, distracting you from the red in his lips and the heave of his chest. You noticed anyway.

"Hey."

"So, uh. I don't have a condom or anything, so we probably shouldn't--y'know," he said, seeming a bit unsure what you wanted to do. His index finger rubbed the metal bar protruding from the wall that he was leaning on.

"Yeah. I was hoping that, um," the words fell short on your tongue. Was there a sexy way to ask this? One that would guarantee he'd say yes?

"What is it?" Anakin was suddenly curious, not ready to accept your pause, or the "I-uh" you uttered as you searched in vein for some innuendo to use.

"C'mon, tell me." His tone had more of an edge to it, one that made you blurt out what you were thinking without a question.

"I was hoping you'd fuck my throat. Hard." You looked up at him, and he was looking at you a bit like he looked at those boards at practice. Like a goal. Like something he wanted, something he'd get. Anakin stalked over to the door and clicked the lock so that no one could get in, then turned to you.

"Get on your knees for me, baby." His voice was so gruff that you did what he said immediately, and dropped onto the hard tile floor. You were on your knees, and all that mattered in that moment was him. His pleasure. "Take it out," he told you, his eyes fixed on you. Your hands came up to his thighs, shaking in anticipation, then ghosted along his hard cock in his jeans. It jumped under your fingers, eager, but you continued up and undid his button. While Anakin stared down at you, you glanced up at his furrowed brow and tightened lips before slowly, teasingly, drawing down his zipper until it showed you his boxers. You hooked a finger under the waistband and drew them down until his cock, hard and heavy, bobbed in front of your hungry mouth.

His head was dark, leaking precum. Anakin had clearly been playing with himself for a long time before this, and you could see some wetness along the shaft, probably spread across his hard cock by his hand. The veins were defined, angry and desperate. One of his hands came up to your jaw, caressing it, then trailed to the back of your head to pull your mouth closer to him.

You reached up and grabbed around the middle of his shaft experimentally, just to test his reaction, and he let out a huff. The skin was so soft and silky under your fingers, and you wondered if the head would be smooth and warm in your mouth. You tested that theory immediately, taking the entire head in your my mouth in one go. You were both too impatient for teasing right now.

"Ahhffuuuck," he groaned as his other hand braces him against the wall. You hummed, but your jaw was open as wide as it could go, so it came out incoherent. Your tongue darted to his slit, lapping up his precum, which was salty and musky, like the rest of him last night. It was Anakin's smell, something masculine and sexy that made you get even wetter. Your tongue started brushing over different parts of his head, feeling the spongy head and the smooth bumps of his frenulum. He really liked it there, it seemed, based on the sharp inhale and small eye roll you saw him give.

You loved his reactions, you loved watching him lose that filter that pretended he didn't want to do horrible, rough things to you. Your head started bobbing as you worked your lips over and over across the rim of his head, letting the whole thing pop out of your lips over and over. Words would probably start pouring out him soon like last night, and the memory of him saying ride me was enough to propel your hand down to where your splayed out thighs met.

"What? Is blowing me in the bathroom turning you on?" There it was. You nodded, his cock still in your mouth. Yes, it was turning you on more than it had any right to. Knowing that someone could be right outside the door while you stuffed him deeper down was everything you wanted. You took more of him in, going as far down as you could, before he hit the back of your throat.

You gagged on him, your body begging for air, but then he used the hand that was behind your head to shove you off him. His fingers wrapped into the hair at the base of your skull and turned you up to face him. He was completely disheveled, the sweet Anakin still there, but a kind of sweet that terrified you, that would ruin you while whispering how good you were in your ear.

"Well, go on. Touch yourself while I fuck your throat, baby," he said, his voice commanding but caring, which only made you wetter. You didn't waste a second, dipping your fingers into your pussy, which was almost shamefully wet. As soon as he saw you sink down on them, he used the subtle opening of your mouth to shove his cock deep down inside your throat, then pulled back and thrust in again, harder. His cock was practically thrumming under your lips, needy and insistent.

The feeling made you speed up your fingers slamming the walls of your pussy, but it wasn't enough. Nothing other than him was ever enough. Desperate for anything to dull the need, you thrust your hips into your palm, grinding against it while your fingers were still buried inside you. The extra friction made you whine around him and squeeze your eyes shut as he worked you back and forth. Suddenly, his hand in your hair wrenched you off his cock.

"Eyes open, beautiful. Look at me," Anakin growled. You instantly opened them, staring up at him. He was wrecked for you. His open mouth huffed out hot, ragged breaths, and, under your fingers, his thighs were clenched so hard you thought they'd give out. As soon as he saw your eyes on his, he lowered you back onto his dick, this time even more frenzied when he saw the devoted look you were casting him and your cheeks hollowed out. You were doing your best to suck the life out of him, and it was working. Quiet grunts started ripping out of his chest every time your tongue passed the bottom of the head of his dick.

"Ffffuck yeah, suck my cock--You like when I pull your hair hard like that? Like it when I use you?" The words were unfiltered, wild. You nodded as best you could, but his brutal pace moving your head was too much, so you tried to say yes, please, I love this so fucking much, but it came out as a series of incoherent noises around his length. Anakin smirked, ravenous, when he heard your desperate cries, but quickly had to squeeze his eyes shut and let his mouth drop open in pleasure. You loved seeing him come apart like this, just because of you. Because of your mouth. He recovered quickly, and words, dirty things, started pouring out of him.

"Yeah, I know you do. Can you feel how much I wanted to bend you over that fuckin' table in the lab? How much I wanted to--shit--slide my fingers inside you and watch you fuck yourself on them?" You whimpered around him, his words going to your head. Your pussy was on fire, heat spreading to every part of your body. He sped up, and you could feel his head smacking the soft flesh at the back of your throat. Your lips ached, your knees ached, your pussy ached, but you would do anything for him at that moment. And he knew it. He cursed under his breath. "Fuuuck, you're so fucking good at this--just like that, baby." It only took a few more seconds before you felt his thighs seize, his balls tightening and his cock starting to jerk and twitch in your mouth. You tongue was so tired, and you weren't sure breathing was even something you remembered how to do anymore.

"Gonna--fuck-- gonna cum. Gonna paint your fucking throat," he groaned, letting noises fall from his lips as you saw it finally overtake him. You were so far gone that you could barely feel your wrist from the amount you were moving it. You could barely feel anything except his cock tensing up inside your mouth. His orgasm burned through him like a wildfire, and, based on the loud gasp that ripped from his chest as the first shot of cum hit the back of your throat, he was losing himself in it. It was bitter, so salty, but you barely tasted it as it slid straight down your tongue. The next spurt hit you, and his hips thrust sharply into your wet, hot throat, but the cum stayed on your tongue this time. It was thick and tasted like a more intense version of his precum painting your mouth. Anakin rode out his orgasm, still buried inside you, then gently pulled his cock out and let go of your burning scalp.

You looked up at him with the best doe eyes you could, then stuck your cum-covered tongue out for him to see. His eyes were half-lidded, but curious. You wanted to badly to make him desperate for you again, to make him need you the way you needed him. Then you took it back in, and made a show of swallowing all his cum.

He groaned, giving you a fuck, baby as he recovered from both the image and his orgasm, and you registered, somewhere far away in your mind, that it was the first time he had called you that outside of sex, and that you wanted to hear it more.

His warm hand trailed your jaw, a bit tentative, holding you like you might shatter in that moment. And, you were. You were shattered, horny beyond belief and desperate to be taken care of. Every joint and part of your body ached, but nothing mattered other than having him inside you as soon as possible.

"Please, Anakin, I--I. I need to be fucked--I need you inside me, please," you begged, still on your knees for him. Anakin offered you a hand up, then helped you get off your sore joints. For a moment, you wondered if he'd leave you alone with your dripping, aching pussy, as some revenge for something. For some sin you'd committed years ago. But then he spoke, his deep blue eyes boring into yours with a heady mix of sincerity, sweetness, and something else. Something deeper.

"I'll take care of you, don't worry. But, first, you're gonna go upstairs and tell everyone you're going home, but you'll wait for me by the entrance. Then, when we get back, I'm going to fuck you on my bed until you can't walk straight."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Tag List (please let me know if you'd like to be added! i'm also searching for beta readers for this series, just to tell me if you like the concepts of each chapter, so message me if you'd like to chat about that): @skywalkercinema @throughparisallthroughrome @anak1ns-wife @radiantvader @eloquenceinpurple @rosekillerdaughter @doblasftcisco @rhiannonhippiegirl @mistress-amidala @mortalheartache @xorilixx @sunnytotheend @olivia091108 @aniiuv @sotal3rsa @springnaiad @bettysgardenswift @ursogorgeous13 @avalovesjoe1 @anibeaar @anisluvrgirl @johnbassplayercutie @mcdonaldshelppage @usuck @sythethecarrot @lovrsm

#anakin skywalker #star wars anakin #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker/you #anakin/you #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x you #star wars prequels #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen imagine

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pokemonbattletournament · 1 month

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Announcing: Tumblr's Strongest Pokémon Tournament!

It's been one year since Mimikyu was crowned Tumblr's favorite Pokémon, not only on this blog, but independently by a bunch of different Pokémon tournaments across the site. One question still lingers: who would win in a one-on-one battle tournament?

I will be again running a tournament on this blog, but instead of answering the question "which Pokémon do you like more?" we are asking "which Pokémon would win in a battle?"

This tournament will again follow a 1v1 knockout format, and it will be seeded according to base stats.

Arguing why your fav would win the battle is highly encouraged. Both joke voting and seriously considering how each battle would play out are encouraged.

FAQ:

Why are the polls all coughing baby vs. hydrogen bombs? That doesn't seem fair!

That's because the polls are seeded by base stats. This way, we ensure that the very strongest pokémon don't face off until the last few rounds, AND if a weaker mon causes an upset in the early rounds (defeats their much stronger opponent), they have a good chance to make it further because they have to face relatively weaker opponents, keeping the tournament exciting!

Why is X form included/not included? Why do some male/female pairs get separate polls?

Forms are included if a) they have different stats or b) they have different types. The exceptions that aren't included are the forms of Aegislash, Minior, Eiscue and Palafin, because you can expect both to occur in the same battle, and the forms of Arceus and Silvally, because there's too many and they, especially Arceus because it's the 8th strongest, risk overwhelming the tournament. The exception that is included are male and female Meowstic, because they have such different movepools.

I found a poll with a wrong image/images in the wrong order/set to only 1 day/something else wrong with it.

Please bring it to my attention, I will fix it asap! The existing poll will be declared invalid if the poll time is wrong.

What happens in case of a tie?

We go into a one-day sudden death poll where the winner moves on to the next round.

What happens if there's an odd number of pokémon in a round?

The three last pokémon in the round will each face off against the 2 others. The one to win both polls will move on to the next round. If each only wins one poll, the one to win by the largest margin will move on.

How should I vote?

Anything that makes you think that the Pokémon should win in a one-on-one. Stats calculations? Valid. They would win in the anime? Valid. They would win in smash/TCG/pokémon pinball? Valid. Vibes? Valid.

Shouldn't you have... [weeded out the weakest pokémon first / included more information in the polls / only included fully evolved pokémon / encouraged people to vote more seriously / something else]?

Yeah probably, but I'm not going to restart the entire tournament over it. I always encourage more people to do tournament blogs though, so feel free to run your own tournament the way you want it!

#pokemon #tumblr's strongest pokémon #with special thanks to everyone who commented on the previous tournament like they were pokémon battles

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 4 months

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Shine Bright Like A Winner

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: implied smut

Summary: You have your eyes set on a very expensive necklace at an auction. So does someone else. When you lose, he pays you a special visit and confesses something you've been wishing for a while now.

Square Filled: stranger for @acrosstheuniversebingo (deleted bingo)

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Your favorite part about being rich is going to auctions and bidding for expensive things. Yes, that sounds arrogant and snobby but you have an entire wing at your house dedicated to rare and valuable items you’ve won across the world. It’s a sort of collection that you’ve been obsessed with growing. It’s the same as someone having a snow globe collection or a keychain collection. Instead of small trinkets, you’re dedicated to collecting one-of-a-kind items.

A few of your favorite pieces are a balloon animal made of steel and mirrors designed by Jeff Koons, a 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO Berlinetta, and a portrait of Marilyn Monroe done by Andy Warhol. You love traveling and seeing different cultures and owning parts of that culture for yourself.

They are nice conversation pieces.

This auction, however, has only one thing you’re interested in. Queen Marie Antoinette’s Pearl. It would make a nice addition to your valuable jewlery collection with the occasional night out with your friends. You're currently in Italy for their annual auction that’s exclusive for only the extreme wealthy. You’re sitting in your seat fanning yourself with a personal fan as you wait. People are still coming in when you notice a tall man wearing a sleek black suit.

Your eyes narrow slightly once you recognize him. Dr. Spencer Reid. He’s rich, a doctor, and so delicious looking. He’s not a doctor of medicine but that’s neither here nor there. You have fantasies of calling him doctor in the bedroom. His brown eyes lock with yours and a smirk brands his beautiful face. He sits down on the other end of the audience but in perfect view. It doesn't matter if there are other people sitting in between you. He’s tall enough for you to see him above everyone else’s heads.

The auctioneer stands on stage and begins the service. There are some good items up for grabs but nothing that catches your eyes. The auctioneer moves from the paintings, statues, and other trinkets to the jewelry section. Spencer notices you sit up a bit straighter telling him you’re interested in what’s to come. The auctioneer passes by beautiful jewels until he gets to the one you have your eye on.

“Next on our list is a very valuable, very rare necklace. Once worn and owned by none other than Queen Maria Antionette. The bidding starts at ten million dollars. Do we have any takers?”

“Ten million,” you say and raise your bidding stick.

“Ten million! Do I hear eleven?”

“Thirty million,” Spencer says and raises his stick.

You narrow your eyes at Spencer who hasn’t stopped looking at you since he saw you were interested in this.

“Fifty,” you argue.

“Sixty.”

“Eighty.”

“One hundred million.”

Are you willing to spend one hundred million on something like this? You certainly have the money but is it worth it?

“One hundred and ten million,” you say before you can stop yourself.

“One hundred and fifty million,” Spencer says immediately after.

You can’t do that. Sure, you could keep going higher since you’re a billionaire but you didn’t become a billionaire by spending your money all willy nilly. You lean back in your chair and cross one leg over the other without saying anything.

“One hundred and fifty million going once,” the announcer says. “Going twice… Sold! To the gentleman in the sleek black suit!”

You’d be more upset over the loss but you’ll negotiate a price later with him. That necklace is going home with you, you know that much.

The rest of the auction goes by without a problem but your eyes didn’t leave Spencer. He kept his back turned to you the entire time but he knew your eyes were on him. Afterward, you headed back to your hotel since you’re flying back to the States the next day. Before you could get undressed for bed, someone knocks on your door. You’re still wearing your elegant dress but without shoes so the bottom of the dress drags on the ground whenever you walk.

You look through the peephole and see none other than Spencer standing on the other side. You open the door and look up at him since he’s much taller than you especially without the shoes.

“Hey, stranger. Are you here to rub it in my face that you won?”

“Turn around.”

Spencer steps inside your room forcing you to step back from him. He closes the door and you turn to face the hall mirror. He takes something out of his suit jacket pocket. You don’t see what it is until he wraps it around your neck. The necklace. Queen Marie Antionette’s Pearl. It shines brightly against your skin like it was always meant to be there.

“The necklace,” you whisper and look at him through the mirror.

“Only someone like you can pull off wearing something like this.”

“I’m not going to argue with you about that,” you smirk.

Spencer moves your hair to the side and presses soft kisses up and down your neck. He kisses up to your ear and sucks your earlobe into his mouth. You resist letting out a moan.

“You want to know what I’d really like to do now?” he whispers.

“What?”

He looks up and locks eyes with you through the mirror.

“Fuck you while you wear only this necklace.”

“What’s stopping you?” you grin.

Spencer turns you and picks you up bridal style. Suddenly, you’re not so mad at him for winning. Right now, you feel like the winner.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff

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ql-of-all-time-bracket · 2 months

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#1 QL of All Time

So I used to run the @ doyouknowthisql blog, but tumblr nerfed that blog a few months back, made it so that none of my posts would ever show up in the tags, which is rough when you're trying to run a blog with the goal of seeing how well a show is known amongst a community of people. long story short, tumblr never got back to me and I have made peace with that blog never returning. BUT!!!!!!! I was sitting here thinking "wow I have all these ql posters still downloaded, what can I do with them?" and the idea then occurred to me:

Tournament for the Best QL of all time!!!

This is going to be a massive 256 contestant tournament, in which qls of all shapes and sizes battle for dominance and only 1 will be the winner! But I need to define some stuff first!

What does QL mean?

QLs for the purposes of this competition are any live action tv shows, mini series, movies, or short films in which the main character is some flavor of queer and has an important plotline around the main character engaging in a queer relationship (romantic, sexual, queerplatonic, etc) with another important character. The relationship must be part of the overall story, not something that only shows up in like the last episode or is only implied/word of god to have happened (the exception being shows from countries where queer content is banned, like China. in those cases, censored shows that are adaptions of explicitly queer texts are allowed or shows in which the creators have stated explicitly that it is meant to be queer).

Country Masterlist

If you are looking for stuff from a specific country, you can click on one of these links for all the polls featuring qls from that country (and then further divided by bl and gl.)

Cambodia

China

BL & GL

Japan

BL & GL

Philippines

BL & GL

South Korea

BL & GL

Taiwan

BL & GL

Thailand

BL & GL

Vietnam

BL & GL

What types of things can be submitted?

Any live action tv show, mini series, movie, or short film that fulfills the above requirement AND comes from an East Asian country is eligible. Examples of countries based on what was on the last blog: South Korea, Thailand, Taiwan, China, Japan, The Philippines, Vietnam, Hong Kong, Laos, Myanmar, and Cambodia. Any other countries or territories from this general region can be submitted. Only live action because I feel like things like animes and donghuas are communities of their own beyond the typical ql fandom.

How long will submissions be opened?

Submissions will be open until I fill the 256 spots. Trust me, there's way more than that many out there these days. When submissions start to slow down a lot, I'll supplement the list with others from all the stuff downloaded on my computer

Submit QLs here!!!

@bl-bracket @tournament-announcer @haveyouseenthisseries-poll (looking for my own bl-georg lol)

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 10 months

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Apollo, and Loki x fem circus ringleader who has the battle arena changed to a circus like how jack fought in london . And reader's volunder is a magic hat that can send attacks back or a whip . And before reader finishes them off reader says to the arena

" Let's give a round of applause to our star guest ! For there hard battle !

-As a massive circus tent was put up over the arena, blocking out the sun, and light illuminated everything and everyone, many were curious about what was going on- excited that they were going to see a show.

-(Love) was looking around as he walked out first, looking amused, as this was something similar when Jack fought, only instead of a miniature city, it’s just a circus tent with the arena being a circus ring.

-A spotlight shown down upon the entrance for humanity, and you walked out, wearing a ringmaster’s outfit, fishnet stockings covering your legs and shorts instead of pants with a pair of knee high, high heeled boots, and a long swallowtail coat and a large matching top hat on your head (men look good in fishnets and heels too lol).

-(Love) was surprised, not expecting you to walk out as you bowed at the waist, almost like you were giving a show as the humans cheered for you and you waved.

-You turned to (Love) a grin on your face, “Let’s give them the best show this world has ever seen!” Your enthusiasm was rather infectious, and he couldn’t help but smile, looking amused as you didn’t seem bothered or scared in the slightest.

-He was more than willing to play along, bowing at the waist, “After you, Ringmaster Y/N!”

-You lifted your hat, your Volundr, from your head, twirling it around so the hole was facing him, and he was not expecting a cannon ball to shoot out at him.

-(Love) only barely dodged, “What the hell?!” you grinned, pulling out birds from your hat, like it was a magic trick before you pulled out a whip, one you used for show, not for hitting animals (I will accept no arguments on this).

-Despite being in high heels, you were very agile, easily dodging his own weapons and blows, using your whip to grab at his ankles and wrists, to limit his movement.

-You twirled your hat before throwing it up and fireworks and confetti started to shoot off, distracting him as you managed to grab him with your whip, binding his whole body with the tip ending with a crack against his ass, making him yelp.

-You grinned down at him, bowing deeply at the waist after you caught your hat again, “Let’s give him a round of applause ladies and gentlemen! And thank you for making this the best show on earth!”

-You were announced the winner, and you pulled your whip, turning (Love) into a spinning top for a moment which made you grin lightly.

-He held his head, trying to get his eyes to stop spinning before stumbling over, “That was pretty impressive- you sure got a lot of tricks up your sleeves.”

-You grinned warmly, hands on your hips, “It comes with the territory!”

-Apollo- Couldn’t help but smile, you were so full of life, so full of passion, and to him, it was so beautiful as he took one of your gloved hands, pecking the back of it, “May I have the honor of taking you to dinner?” you were surprised, as most would ask the person who beat them out on a date, but you immediately grinned, agreeing and he kept a hold of your hand, truly curious on what else you could do, curious about your skills both in and out of the circus ring.

-Loki- He cupped your cheek, flirting with you, “Does hitting my ass also come with the territory?” you couldn’t help but grin, immediately flirting back, “No- but hitting it makes it my territory.” Loki’s mouth fell open, immediately smitten by your witty comeback as you smirked at him, giving him a wink, “Gonna have to try harder than that.” Good thing that Loki had a lot of his own tricks up his sleeve, ones he was planning on using to make you his.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror loki #ror apollo

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poetrysmackdown · 1 year

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The polling has closed, and the "Swan" vs. "How I Go to the Woods" matchup has been called. But hark, a new challenger appears at the eleventh hour...

As promised, you all will get a chance to vote in this ONE-DAY POLL to sub in "Wild Geese" for the winner of the Round 1 Mary Oliver smackdown, "How I Go to the Woods." One important rule: If I deem that too few people voted in this poll, then I can choose to disregard it. Even if I already announced this in advance, a lot of folks voted in the other one and I want to be at least somewhat fair to those who won't see this one in time.

Without further ado...

[Image Description: Two screenshots of poems by Mary Oliver.

The first poem is titled "How I Go to the Woods." It reads:

Ordinarily I go to the woods alone, with not a single friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore unsuitable.

I don't really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of praying, as you no doubt have yours.

Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds, until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost unhearable sound of the roses singing.

If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love you very much. [End poem #1.]

The second poem is titled "Wild Geese." It reads:

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting— over and over announcing your place in the family of things.

End Image Description.]

#round1 #poll #poetry

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on-my-vigilante-sht · 1 year

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Capitol Punishment I

Haymitch x Reader

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, rape (though never explicit), alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book

Word Count: 3.6k

Prologue II | Masterlist | Part II

You removed your arms from the boy from District 1’s shoulders and chest, allowing him to fall to the ground, his neck bleeding. You hear a cannon fire and the head game maker who you hadn’t bothered to learn the name of come over the loudspeaker. “Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the 67th Hunger Games, Y/N L/N!”

You don’t remember much after you were announced the winner. Just flashes of a peacekeeper meeting you in the arena, guiding you onto the ship. You remember sitting in the same seat they brought you to the arena in, District 1’s body laying maybe 10 feet from away. They hadn’t even bothered to give either of you the dignity of respectfully handling his body.

Your memory still consisted of brief flashes until Haymitch. You were laying on the table, medics flitting around you treating cuts, bruises, and a broken rib you had suffered at the hands of District 2’s male tribute. But when Haymitch burst in, you were leaping from the table, pushing away the medics who tried to restrain you, and throwing yourself into your mentor’s arms. You immediately began to sob when you reached him, breaking down in his arms. You truly had no one left but him.

“You’re safe, you’re safe,” he shushed, stroking your still tangled hair. “You’re going to be okay. It’s over.” You now realized those were merely empty comforts he uttered to try to calm you down. You would never feel safe or okay, the Capitol’s games never stopped.

Haymitch eventually convinced you to allow the Capitol people to do what they needed to do but he never left the room. When you were finally alone, you spoke about the games.

“I had no idea you had it in you,” he whispered. “You shocked everyone when you started killing careers close range. Even I didn’t do that.” You only shrugged, not saying anything. Even thought they were the supposed big, bad careers who had trained their whole lives for the arena, they were still just kids that you had killed. Recognizing how you felt, Haymitch spoke. “I know it’s not easy to kill someone, especially living with it but you have no idea how happy I am you’re alive,” he admitted. His baby blue eyes pleading with yours. “It was terrifying watching you in there.”

You weren’t sure what to say, all you knew is that the only person in the world you valued seemed to value you too. Still unable to verbalize your feelings you chose to show him. Scooting over in the surprisingly large hospital bed, Haymitch took the hint and stood from the chair he had pulled up, climbing into bed with you. He wrapped his arms around you as you clung to him like a scared animal. His chin rested on top of your head and he stroked your now smooth hair as he had before. “You’re going to learn some terrible things about being a victor and the thought of you having to learn them breaks my heart. But you have to learn them. The first one is that I care about you and that’s dangerous so don’t piss off Snow.”

Your heart fluttered at his blatant admission of his feelings for you. But you wanted to sob at the thought of how hellish your life will be if you can’t do something as simple as care about someone. “I care about you too,” you mumbled into his chest, still craving any form of gentle intimacy compared to the brutish Capitol.

You were interrupted a couple moments later by your stylist, Vodka. You had once found it hilarious that her parents named her after an alcohol that was mostly drank before Panem. “Ah my Victor!” she cheered, completely disregarding the man in your bed. “We have to get you ready for your ceremony! I’m so excited you finally get to use a Victor design. Everyone told me don’t bother making any Victor dresses until you’ve moved up a couple districts but look at you proving them wrong,” she cheered. You wanted to roll your eyes at her cheer and the fact that she didn’t even recognize the torture you went through. “Now, you,” she pointed at Haymitch as the rest of the stylist team came in, “out.”

“No,” you snapped. “He stays.”

Vodka huffed but didn’t say anything else, just gestured for him to move out of the way which he did. The team got to work on you, waxing and tweezing everything below your neck. They then applied your makeup until you were put in a sheer dress with strategically placed lace, leaving very little to the imagination. Once you realized what they were putting on you, you sent a frantic look to your mentor. “Woah what are you doing?” he demanded, gesturing to your dress. “Victor’s outfits don’t look like that,” he said. While tributes frequently appeared in the pageants in sheer clothing or even nude, Victors were usually crowned in suits and non-see through ball gowns.

“Snow said her sponsors that you,” Vodka said, giving a pointed stare to Haymitch, “secured want to see her. And see her they shall,” she declared, proudly looking at your dress.

You looked at Haymitch, terror likely splashed across your face. ‘What are these sponsors going to do to me?’

Your question was answered after your crowning ceremony. After the cameras were turned off and the citizens of the Capitol had gone home, you were brought to Snow’s office. The office was cold and isolating, making you want to run back to District 12 forever. “Congratulations Y/N,” he greeted with a simultaneously kind and sinister smile. “Your sponsors were very pleased with your performance. They are eager to… see more of you,” he said, eyes raking down your practically nude body.

Your blood ran cold. You had heard of this happening to the beautiful victors of the career districts, but why were you, a random girl from 12 who had nearly descended into savagery, been picked? “What?” was all you managed to get out.

Snow only smiled coyly, and you heard the doors open behind you. In walked an older man, maybe 50, with silver hair and an eccentric suit. You wouldn’t call him handsome or ugly, merely average and unremarkable. “Mr. Phillips here has paid a lot for your virginity.”

Your eyes widened at Snow’s comment. “What?!” you demanded as two peacekeepers grabbed your arms. “How do you-”

“There’s old, largely useless footage from District 12 that let us track your every move since you reached adolescence,” Snow simply explained, not caring that he was selling an 18 year old into sex-slavery. You had no time to respond as the peacekeepers dragged you away, Mr. Phillips following with an eager look on his face.

Haymitch wearily entered President Snow’s office. “Hello, Mr. Abernathy,” he greeted like a supervillain.

“President Snow,” Haymitch greeted, gritting his teeth. He wanted to strangle this man with his bare hands for everything he had done to him simply because of the way he won his games.

“I understand you’ve become close with our victor,” Snow said.

“I don’t-” Haymitch began to lie, ready to protect you. But he was quickly cut off by holographic video of himself in bed with you from earlier that day.

“I’m sure you don’t have to remind you about your family’s deaths,” Snow said in a domineering tone. Haymitch clenched his jaw at the president’s words. “This is Y/N now,” Snow continued, the image changed to a live feed of Y/N with a man on top of her, doing unspeakable things to her. Haymitch saw red as he observed the tears running down her face, the man’s hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her whimpers of pain. “And believe me, if you so much as step a toe out of line, her clients will become much worse.”

“What do you want? Me to stop seeing her? I’ll do it, I’ll go back to the alcoholic who only comes here for the booze and desserts,” Haymitch said. Inside he was begging for any way to stop Y/N’s torture. And while he knew it’d hurt her for him to completely turn his back on her, he had to do it if it meant sparing her from this fate.

“I couldn’t care less about you,” Snow dismissed. “Like you said you’re the drunk no one takes seriously. I don’t care if you have a relationship with her, her fate is sealed whether you break her heart or not. The question is do you care enough about her to spare her from her life getting worse? So by all means, fall in love, have a relationship with her. You, after all, are the only one I’ll allow to protect her.” Haymitch was seething at the audacity of this guy for trading the two victors’ pain for the other. “That’ll be all, I’ll be monitoring the both of you for your decision,” Snow smiled before the peacekeepers led Haymitch out.

You had finally been released by that man after god knows how long. It was like being removed from the arena again. You just remember flashes of a peacekeeper leading you into a car and being led into the tributes’ building. In the lobby sat Haymitch and once again, just like after the games, you threw myself into his arms, sobbing. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

He tried to lead you upstairs but you were immobilized by your grief for your former life and any chance you had at happiness. So he settled on scooping you up bridal style and bringing you up to your room. He sat down on the bed as you nuzzled your face into his neck, sobbing. “I saw, and I’ll kill him, and Snow, for doing this to you,” Haymitch whispered.

“Why me?” you cried. “Why won’t they just let me go?”

“Because you’re beautiful,” Haymitch blurted without thinking.

Both froze, realizing what Haymitch said. Y/N pulled away from his neck. “You think I’m beautiful?” she asked, tears in her eyes.

Haymitch’s blue eyes locked on hers. “Of course you do,” he admitted. “So does everyone else here and in 12.” You felt your heart flutter, no one had ever bothered to call you beautiful before. The boys in school had simply called you hot while Mr. Phillips had moaned that you were sexy. So you pressed your lips to Haymitch’s, tasting the every present alcohol on his lips.

Haymitch responded to the kiss, allowing your lips to mold to his. Inside he was ecstatic and relieved that you had been the one to make the first move.

When they pulled away their gazes were locked on each other until Haymitch spoke. “I promise I will protect you as best you can.”

“I will too,” you promised, kissing him once again.

Once they returned to 12 you were brought to your house in Victor’s Village. It was a beautiful house, much more luxurious than any place you had seen before the games. But it also felt hallow and empty. You felt completely isolated even though Haymitch was right next door.

After being watched and surrounded for god knows how long you wanted to sleep in “your” house alone the first night. You fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow but you were met with the most terrifying moments in both the Capitol and the arena. You were surrounded by dead tributes, blood covering you, bringing you to the realization that you killed them. Snow stepped over their bodies, dragging you towards a group of Capitol men who you knew wanted to do unspeakable things to you.

You were suddenly jolted from your nightmare by Haymitch who you found shaking you, screaming that it wasn’t real. “Hay-Haymitch?” you stuttered. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard you screaming,” he admitted.

You immediately felt mortified, blood rushing to your cheeks realizing you disturbed the peace. “Oh- I’m sorry for waking you, you didn’t-”

“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t asleep anyways,” he soothed.

“Can you stay with me?” you asked, not wanting to be alone in the dark.

You were surprised to find that he looked relieved at your request. “Whatever you want,” he agreed. He climbed into bed with you, wrapping an arm around you, gently pulling you down to lay on his chest. “Have you visited friends yet?” he asked, his chin once again on top of your head as he stroked your hair.

“No, I didn’t really have friends after my dad died,” you mumbled, feeling empty. “Mom died in childbirth, he died in a mine explosion.”

You felt Haymitch sigh. “I’m sorry you’ve known more loss in your life than anyone should.”

You shrugged. “It’s okay, it’s all I know.”

“The good news now is that you can buy anything you want,” he tried to console. You both knew it was a meager consolation prize for the trauma. “You’ll never have to know cold or hunger again.”

You didn’t want to feel hollow or scared anymore so you allowed yourself to divulge in the fantasy Haymitch was trying to create for you. “I’ll buy every cake in the bakery,” you mused. “When I had to buy bread, as I was waiting for it I used to stare at the cakes. I was so jealous of the bakers, the mayor, and the peacekeepers since they were the only ones who could afford it. And you I guess.”

Haymitch chucked at that. “I do like cake,” he agreed.

You eventually fell asleep, the nightmares were far less scary but still there. But rather than being woken up by your screams, you were woken up by birds singing outside your window. Rather, Haymitch was woken up by the birds while you were woken up by peppered kisses on your hairline.

Over the next two weeks Haymitch and you became closer. You had both been alone for so long that it was a breath of fresh air to have real human intimacy. You still couldn’t sleep alone so you spent most nights in either your or Haymitch’s bed.

We spent our mornings together until Haymitch would go to the The Hob to get alcohol. you had tried to get him to try getting sober or at least drink less but you could see he seemed truly terrified of having to deal with the demons that lurked just past his drunken haze so you let it go. He never wantedyou to be seen at the Hob, saying that it was dangerous foryou now. So you stayed at home, tidying up a bit when you heard the door open. “I’m in the kitchen,” you called to Haymitch, already getting out a glass for him.

you heard footsteps coming towards you, now realizing that there were too many and they were too heavy to be Haymitch’s. you turned, greeted by several peacekeepers with their leader standing in front, helmet off. you didn’t recognize the one with his helmet off and their uniforms were all too pristinely white to be from District 12. you took a step backed, fearing what these men would do or say to me. “Ms. L/N, we need you to come with us,” he ordered in a commanding voice.

“Why?” you asked, your voice shaking.

“You’ve been requested by some Capitol citizens,” he explained, his voice gaining an angry edge. “You’ll be brought to the Capitol and returned here once you’ve fulfilled your duties.”

“No,” you uttered in terror, tears coming to your eyes. “No, please I can’t go.”

“President Snow’s orders, Miss,” the peacekeeper dismissed as two of them grabbed you.

“No! Haymitch!” you began to shriek in terror but your screams were quickly cut off with a hand clamping over your mouth and a needle in your neck.

“This’ll just calm you down,” the man explained. “And no one can hear you,” he taunted.

you began to sob as you lost consciousness, slumping against the peacekeepers carrying you out of your home.

When Haymitch returned to Y/N’s house he knew immediately something was wrong. All the footprints on the ground indicated that. He ran into the house, throwing open the door. “Y/N!” he called, searching through the house. When he got to the kitchen he saw a knocked over chair and a shattered glass. Haymitch felt his heart drop, realizing the Capitol got her.

He continued to run around frantically, praying he was wrong and maybe she just had an accident. When he made it to his house, hoping that she went over there for whatever reason, he was greeted by two peacekeepers in the living room. “Where the fuck is she?” he seethed.

The peacekeepers gave no indication that they had heard him except for one stepping up to him, handing Haymitch an envelope before wordlessly leaving, the other one following him out.

The envelope had a Capitol seal, igniting rage and guilt in his chest. He promised Y/N he’d protect her and he failed. Tearing open the note, he read.

Haymitch,

Y/N L/N’s services have been requested in the Capitol. Pending citizens’ satisfaction she will be returned to you in three days. I suggest you take that time to indulge your addiction, it will keep her safe.

President Snow

Haymitch crumpled up the paper angrily. Why did Snow insist on punishing him for his games even 15 years after? He wished he’d died in that arena. Wished he’d never become close with Y/N so she couldn’t be used against him. At that thought he felt incredibly guilty.

Not knowing what else to do and needing an outlet for his rage and fear, he picked up one of the many empty liquor bottles around his home and threw it. It exploded against the wall, raining shards everywhere.

Haymitch continued, drinking and throwing things until he fell to the ground, drunk and exhausted.

When you were able to return home after almost three whole days of being used, they simply left you shaking at Haymitch’s door like an orphaned child. Fortunately you had the sense, through your traumatized haze, to push the doorbell. “Oh my god, Y/N!” Haymitch exclaimed when he opened the door. He had to practically drag you inside but as soon as he did he realized his home wasn’t in a state you could be in.

So with you still in a borderline catatonic state, he scooped you up and brought you next door to your house. He placed you on the sofa before going to light a fire in the fireplace. Once he was done he took in your appearance. Makeup the stylist had no doubt put on you was smudged, he could see lingerie from underneath your sheer “robe” both of which were torn and barely staying on. He could also see bruises and hickies littered your body.

“Oh Y/N…” he began with an empathetic tone, stroking your hair. “I’m so sorry.” Haymitch genuinely felt guilty for not being there for you.

You didn’t say anything for a minute, simply staring down at the floor. “There were so many,” you suddenly said. “They locked me in a dark room and just brought them in one by one. I didn’t think it would ever stop.” Haymitch was once again seeing red but he made no indication of it, not wanting to spook you. He was sure you had seen more than your fair share of violent, angry men in the past couple days. “I met Finnick,” you suddenly said as if you were telling a friend about a vacation you took. “He’s like me, he said that he gets paid in secrets and I can too if I hold my ground before they… y’know.”

Haymitch’s heart not only broke for you, it filled with anger. They made you so powerless and your life so miserable that now you were excited to be paid with gossip while Snow actually got paid and still sold you into sex-slavery.

As the years went on you settled in as best you could into your new life. Snow tried his best to terrorize you and Haymitch, sometimes you were literally ripped from Haymitch’s side and bed in the dead of night. It worked on Haymitch who was terrified to leave you alone, it only hardened you. You allowed yourself to become a sweet, demure, Panem loving Victor to the public but behind closed doors, you became a force to be reckoned with. The other former victors had known you as a ferocious tribute who had killed every career in your arena. But as you met them over the next couple years they realized what was happening to you. Why you’d disappear randomly, coming back with hickies and bruises. And when you weren’t off being sold, everyone knew you were Haymitch’s. He was always near you, an arm usually around your waist if you weren’t in front of Capitol people.

You had initially been eager to befriend other victors but as your torture continued and you watched your kids be slaughtered, you came to only trust Haymitch and Finnick who knew exactly what you were going through. The Capitol also made a show of parading you around, both you and Finnick often eclipsing the tributes.

Prologue II | Masterlist | Part II

#haymitch #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x reader #thg #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #capitol punishment

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fairytale-poll · 28 days

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MODERN ADAPTATION BRACKET WINNER ANNOUNCEMENT POST!!!

We have finished another tournament (or rather, two mini-tournaments!) Thank you guys for another great one, the results really surprised me this time around!! I apologize for deciding not to hold a Loser's Bracket & Mod's Choice poll this time around, but both will be back for the next tournament.

Before we go into the winners, however, I want to say that this blog is officially a year old! I opened submissions for our first tournament, Red Riding Poll, on July 26th of 2023, and the first rounds of the poll came in the early days of August 2023! Since then, we have hosted 4 tournaments (Red Riding Poll, Cinder Poll, Little Merpoll, & Modern Adaptation Brackets) and it's truly been a great experience! I can't wait to see how many more brackets we will do in the future :)

Okay, onward to the winners!

We will start with the Best Modern Bracket. The quarterfinalists for that one were Once Upon a Time and The Sisters Grimm! Once Upon a Time has been a decisive pick, being both on the Best and Worst brackets, but since it only placed in the Best bracket it must have some merit to it! :) As for the Sisters Grimm, it was definitely a popular choice and probably would've won the whole bracket if it did not have to go against the eventual first-place winner/that said first-place winner wasn't in the tournament. I've never read it, but if I were to give "fan favorite" award for this bracket it would definitely win it. Congratulations to fans of both of these fairytale crossover series for the bronze medal!

The semifinalists of the Best Modern Bracket was Hook! This is another one that I haven't watched, but Robin Williams' old movies are definitely great nostalgic picks (RIP). Though technically Peter Pan isn't a fairytale, I think that it is often listed with them enough that it should count, so congrats to Hook for carrying that win!

Finally, the winner of the Best Modern Bracket was none other than the magical girl classic, Princess Tutu!!! This is one of my favorite anime series that I don't see often, so I was more than surprised to see it not only submitted but win (and by a lot, too! It practically swept every poll it went against, even things like Ponyo which I really thought was going to carry the win due to how universally loved it is!) A delightful series that definitely deserves the love, I couldn't be happier to see that this little duck made it all the way to the gold <3

Applaud to the Best Modern Bracket winners!!! Now, get ready to point and laugh at the Worst Modern Bracket winners!!! (Or losers, in a way, if you think about it). Okay, but in all seriousness, if you like any of these listed for the Worst Modern Bracket, try not to take offense! This is all in good fun :)

The quarterfinalists for the Worst Modern Bracket were Avalon High and Sydney White! Sydney White was one of those that were in both brackets, but it only ranked in the Worst one. As for Avalon High, I have been told that the dislike for this one was more so for it being a bad book-to-movie adaptation, which is interesting to hear. Anyway, I haven't watched either, so I have no witty comments.

For the semifinalist, we have Hooked! Another Peter Pan adaptation in the 2nd place, go figure... Well, I feel as if this book was more well-known, it could've gone to #1 as people tended to have a lot of strong feelings on this. I admit, the summary doesn't make it sound too appealing to me... well, here it is with the silver for that!

The winner was obvious to me as soon as the bracket started. And I was right on the money, for none other than Beastly got the winning title of the Worst Modern Bracket! It has all the pitfalls of bad Beauty and the Beast adaptations that I've noticed and it's certainly quite infamous (especially after the Jenny Nicholson video)! I distinctly remember seeing the commercials for it on TV when I was a kid and thinking "that movie looks weird... is that what teens like?" Apparently not, since it didn't do so well! Nobody deserves the honor of being called the Worst Modern Bracket like this movie, good job!

aaaannnnndddd that's it for the modern bracket polls! Thank you everyone who participated. Our next tournament as voted on by you guys will be Best Fairy Godmother. I don't have a figure of when I will open submissions, but I would say at least two weeks. See you then! <3 <3 <3

#long post #best modern bracket #worst modern bracket #modern fairytale adaptation polls #winner #once upon a time #the sisters grimm #hook #princess tutu #sydney white #avalon high #hooked #beastly

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snderist · 10 days

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I am proud to announce Eloise Coleman, by @fruitysimsy, as the winner of the Love On The Ranch challenge! With Albane Dubois by @spillgrand coming in close second.

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After revealing the winning contestant to Asher, here is what he had to say:

Asher: I had high hopes for Eloise. I feel like we really hit it off when we first met. Though I had pretty good compatibility with the others, I felt very drawn to her. It also kinda helps that she has a tremendous love for animals. I think my biggest goal besides finding a soulmate, was to find someone who loves Tulip as much as I do; and I think El is the perfect match for the both of us.

Interviewer: El? You've created a nickname for her already?

Asher: *chuckles* How could I not? I feel like I've grown pretty close to her to call her by a nickname, y'know.

Interviewer: Well, now that Eloise has been declared the winner, when are you going to propose?

Asher: *smiles* I plan on proposing to her as soon as we land in Tartosa. There’s a beautiful beach there, and I decided to have everything, including dinner, set up there.

Interviewer: Dinner? *giggles* You don't strike me as the cooking type.

Asher: Haha, very funny. Yes, unfortunately, I never learned to cook. My dad was always away and my mom passed during childbirth. It helps knowing my soon to be fiance will be able to help me out with that *laughs*

Interviewer: How do you feel about being married and sharing your space with someone else?

Asher: I'm a little nervous, but also excited. I've spent most of my life alone, so it's all I'm used to. I feel like a change in environment and lifestyle would be the perfect chance for a new start in life. Yes, I know I have Tulip, but she's too big to cuddle with *laughs*. The loneliness gets suffocating, but I feel like Eloise is my opportunity to finally breathe.

Interviewer: That is very sweet of you.

------------------------------------

Stay tuned for Eloise and Asher's engagement post + wedding invitation announcement soon! Congrats again to the winning contestant :) And thank you to those who participated.

#the sims 4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 simblr #my stuff #ts4mm #gameplay #love on the ranch #lotr finalist #lotr winner #winner #challenge winner #bachelor challenge #i can't wait for their wedding eeek

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ad0rechuu · 1 year

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★ MILKY WAY. ━━ (00i) csn route: what makes him, him

WORD COUNT. 823

WARNINGS. fluff! san is just v san what can i say

credits to @ari-shipping-stuff for being my beta reader / writer <33

YOU SEE HIM. AND YOU KNOW HE SEES YOU TOO BY THE WAY HIS EYES WIDEN WHEN HE MEET YOURS.

All the contestants had packed the stage for the award ceremony. Ateez stood pretty far away from the crowds eyes, unintentionally shielding you from their vision.

None of them had spotted you until they were announced as the winners of the silver prize. Yeosang somehow saw your figure in the hoards of people, waving with excitement.

The seemingly innocent action also brought you into his view.

Choi San is currently freaking out, the image of your flawless smile etched deeply into his brain.

While thinking about you might be his favorite pastime, he really wishes that he could muster up the courage to go up to you and spill his heart right now.

Sadly, that won’t be happening. Even if he wasn’t so scared of the potential rejection, who says you would even agree to see him?

He lets himself fall on the couch with a dramatic sigh. Until suddenly, he hears the loud voice of his best friend. San doesn’t think much of it because Wooyoung has never been one to follow the rules of basic social etiquette.

“Yeah, San says he wants to talk to you.” He hears Wooyoung say as his voice gets closer.

Before he can even begin to decipher what that’s suppose to mean, San is greeted by you holding a small stuffed animal, and being pushed trough the door by Wooyoung.

He quickly rushes to his feet as you take a confused look around the dressing room.

“You didn’t have to push me. I would’ve come willingly.” You say with a small chuckle as he walks over to you.

San is about to open his mouth when he he’s interrupted by the voices of Seonghwa and Mingi yelling, “Good luck Sannie!” as they close the door.

A wave of both relief and embarrassment washes over the poor boy, who’s now blushing profusely.

You smile and give him a questioning look. “So what did you want to tell me?”

“Oh. I didn’t ask Wooyoung to go get you, he made that up.”

As your face facial expressions drop and disappointment spreads over your previously cheerful features, he realizes his mistake.

“Oh-”

“No no no, wait, I didn’t ask him to do anything but.. but I still want to tell you something.” He stutters.

You don’t say anything, only nodding for him to continue.

He takes a deep breath, his dark eyes meeting yours.

“Yn, I.. I like you. Scratch that actually, I.. I love you. Yes, I love you and I’m sorry that I lied to you. I can’t deny that I’ve been a fan of yours for a long time, but I promise that my feelings for you are real!”

The sheer amount of passion in his voice pleasantly shocks you. You’ve never had anyone speak to you with that amount of love.

“San, I—”

Before you can even start your sentence, he’s clinging to your waist, hugging you like this is the last time he’ll ever see you.

“You don’t have to say that you love me back, I understand, I promise but I— I just needed you to know how much you mean to me.” He breathes out.

You laugh at his words, quickly rubbing his shoulders. You feel them tense up at your reaction.

“If you had let me finish, you could’ve saved yourself that whole monologue.”

He pulls away to give you a confused look. You continue to hold him close.

“I feel the same way, San—"

Once again he cuts you off, this time by placing his lips on yours.

The action catches you off guard, but you’re quick to return the affection. It’s as if San tries to put all his emotions for you into the kiss. His warm hands find their way under your shirt while your own hands cling to the fabric of sleeves.

He chases your lips when you part from him as air runs out, much to both your dismay.

You smile each other, love writing in both of your looks.

“You sure have a thing for cutting me off, huh?”

He laughs shyly. “I’m sorry.”

You don’t say anything. Eyeing the toy on the ground, you bend down to retrieve the stuffed animal you had dropped in your passionate exchange.

San whines at the momentary loss of contact.

“Here you go.” You hand it to him, returning to your position.

He stares at the cat plushie in his hands before breaking out into a big smile.

“I’m gonna name it Yn Junior.” He smirks, and you have to fight the urge to facepalm. You might shoot him a disappointed look, but you both know that you don’t mean it.

San might cut you off and name a cat doll after you but all those traits make him.. well, him— the milky way you’ve been searching for.

‹ PREVIOUS ᜊ NEXT ›

NOTES. fun fact! san will bite whoever touches yn junior other than u (yes he stuck with that name 😮‍💨) ! also please comment ur fav san moment of this fic

TAGLIST. @bunnystrm @seongwin @aestheticsluut @meginthebuilding27 @gaebestie @stopeatread @pr1ncessm1ng1 @persphonesorchid @se0nghwaswife @seonghwasslytherin @leeknowsnothing @alixnsuperstxr @bluehwale-main @miriamxsworld @tocupid @rieuvie @sunoo-bby @jcngh0-hq @dudufodd @nikisbf @mrowwww @end0rchans @qtdenks @mintgki @dear-dreamie @leo-seonghwa @evilsailorsenshi @seonghwaddict @choichaeyiul @iw4milf @yunstarz @cvberidiot @not2daym8 @tubatu-wari-wari @sunshine1438 @jaehunnyy @brrrkdslek @whippedforbeomgyu @amara-mars @crvzy-fujoshi @hyuk4ngel @atinyinateezverse @nickiminajleftasscheek

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unicornjoking1111 · 1 year

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Success stories in Neville goddard's book (the power of awareness)

*this is not my work as it is a copy paste of neville goddard's book*

This is the story of a very unexpected result of an interview with a lady who came to consult me.

One afternoon a young grandmother, a business woman in New York, came to see me. She brought along her nine-year-old grandson, who was visiting her from his home in Pennsylvania. In response to her questions, I explained the law of assumption, describing in detail the procedure to be followed in attaining an objective. The boy sat quietly, apparently absorbed in a small toy truck while I explained to the grandmother the method of assuming the state of consciousness that would be hers were her desire already fulfilled. I told her the story of the soldier in camp who each night fell asleep, imagining himself to be in his own bed in his own home. When the boy and his grandmother were leaving, he looked up at me with great excitement and said, "I know what I want and now, I know how to get it." Surprised, I asked him what it was he wanted; he told me he had his heart set on a puppy. To this the grandmother vigorously protested, telling the boy that it had been made clear repeatedly that he could not have a dog under any circumstances . . . that his father and mother would not allow it, that the boy was too young to care for it properly, and furthermore the father had a deep dislike for dogs — he actually hated to have one around. All these were arguments the boy, passionately desirous of having a dog, refused to understand. "Now I know what to do," he said. "Every night just as I am going off to sleep, I am going to pretend that I have a dog and we are going for a walk." "No," said the grandmother, "that is not what Mr. Neville means. This was not meant for you. You cannot have a dog." Approximately six weeks later, the grandmother told me what was to her an astonishing story. The boy's desire to own a dog was so intense that he had absorbed all that I had told his grandmother of how to attain one's desire — and he believed implicitly that at last he knew how to get a dog. Putting this belief into practice, for many nights the boy imagined a dog was lying in his bed beside him. In imagination he petted the dog actually feeling its fur. Things like playing with the dog and taking it for a walk filled his mind. Within a few weeks it happened. A newspaper in the city in which the boy lived organized a special program in connection with Kindness to Animals Week. All schoolchildren were requested to write an essay on "Why I Would Like to Own a Dog." After entries from all the schools were submitted and judged, the winner of the contest was announced. The very same boy who weeks before in my apartment in New York had told me "Now I know how to get a dog" was the winner. In an elaborate ceremony, which was publicized with stories and pictures in the newspaper, the boy was awarded a beautiful collie puppy. In relating this story, the grandmother told me that if the boy had been given the money with which to buy a dog, the parents would have refused to do so and would have used it to buy a bond for the boy or put it in the savings bank for him. Furthermore, if someone had made the boy a gift of a dog, they would have refused it or given it away. But the dramatic manner in which they boy got the dog, the way he won the city-wide contest, the stories and pictures in the newspaper, the pride of achievement and joy of the boy himself all combined to bring about a change of heart in the parents, and they found themselves doing that which they never conceived possible — they allowed him to keep the dog. All this the grandmother explained to me, and she concluded by saying that there was one particular kind of dog on which the boy had set his heart. It was a collie.

#loa success #loa #manifestation #neville goddard #vaunts & affirmations #the void state #void success #void state #law of assumption

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striveattemptfail · 1 year

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🎉🥳 Happy 10 Year Tumblr Anniversary 🥳🎉 (shitposting celebrating 10 years on main!)

This blog has existed for 10 whole years and to celebrate I'm hosting a give-away \o/ Per my poll, all winners will receive a FREE art commission. PLUS, winners can also choose to opt-in and receive free physical prizes, shipping included*!!

Blacklist #SAF Anniversary GA to block this post.

Give-away runs from Aug. 13–23, 2023~!

RULES

Must be following me @striveattemptfail BEFORE Aug. 18, 11:59pm EST. > I will be checking!

Bonus entry for following my sideblog @jercythesiscrying

Unlimited reblogs + likes. Sideblogs allowed! > Please note in the tags/reblogs what blog you are following from. If I cannot find the URL in my followers list you will be disqualified.

Ask box and/or Tumblr DMs must be OPEN.

All ages** allowed to enter!

WINNERS

1ST PLACE Choice of:

1 full-body character OR up to 3 full-body chibis with detailed background (value CA$60+)

PLUS choice to opt-in for first dibs on physical prizes

2ND PLACE Choice of:

1 waist-up character OR up to 2 full-body chibis with semi-detailed background (value CA$40+)

PLUS choice to opt-in for leftovers on physical prizes

3RD PLACE Choice of:

1 bust icon with simple background, character or chibi style (value CA$20+)

PLUS choice to opt-in for leftovers on physical prizes

Super Secret 4th Place If none of the top 3 winners opt-in, I'll do a bonus draw for someone else to receive the physical prizes instead!

COMMISSION PRIZES

High-res A5 illustration to be given as PNG and PDF (unless otherwise requested)

SFW ONLY! — Suggestive themes and partial nudity OK but anything more explicit is not allowed

Art is for personal use only

Open to any/all fandoms or OCs! — References needed for OCs or fandoms I'm unfamiliar with. List of my fandoms under the cut with full disclaimer

No complex poses, backgrounds, mecha

Animals/furries OK as long as it follows the above parameters. (Examples here: one, two, three)

I reserve the right to turn down or modify requests. (See disclaimer under the cut for more details)

PHYSICAL PRIZES***

Karasuno First Years Zine (2018) > Full colour Haikyuu!! fanbook > Perfect bind, 80+ pages, 5.5x8.5" > Valued at CA$25

Batblob Pack (Winter 2023) > Includes unreleased screenprinted 5x7" art print and 1/8 zine of various Batblobs > Printed on ~55gsm paper > Valued at CA$15

the lazy zine. (19/23) > Part of the (unreleased) 19/23 series > Original art: screenprint quarter zine of lazy animals > Valued at CA$7

Plus bonus things...? 👀

All prizes (both illustrated and physical) will be fulfilled before the end of 2023 barring any external circumstances and emergencies.

DEADLINE

Give-away runs from Aug. 13, 9:00pm EST – Aug 23, 11:59pm EST. Winners will be contacted immediately and given 24 hrs to respond. If a winner fails to respond within that time another person will be chosen and given the same deadline. Winners will be announced on this blog by Aug. 28 with their respective prizes.

🎉🥳 Good luck and happy anniversary to me! 🥳🎉

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NOTES / DISCLAIMER

This give-away is not affiliated with Tumblr or any franchises mentioned anywhere within this post. It is being independently hosted by me and I am bearing the responsibility of fulfilling all prizes. As mentioned above, I reserve the right to turn down or modify requests based on my schedule and capabilities once the give-away ends and production begins. Keep scrolling down for a list of fandoms I'm familiar with!

* I am shipping from Canada. If your country does not allow mail/packages from Canada, I cannot ship your prize until it does. You may be subject to customs fees or import taxes once the package arrives to your country. Barring other circumstances, all prizes will be shipped before the end of November 2023. I cannot guarantee that your package won’t go missing or will arrive undamaged, but feel free to contact me if anything goes wrong~!

** If you are a minor you MUST have permission from your guardian(s) to provide me a valid mailing address. I want to keep this give-away open to as many people as possible, but you MUST be willing to share some personal information at your safest discretion. I guarantee that your information will never be used outside of this give-away nor will be shared with anyone except myself. I will NOT be responsible for any issues that may arise if you choose to ignore this disclaimer.

*** Physical prizes might not look like the pictured examples. Prizes may not be in mint condition due to storage and shipping conditions. They may also include other imperfections due to the nature of the screenprinting process. Aside from the Karasuno First Years Zine, all other physical prizes are artworks I’ve made throughout the years, which are great for art/publication collectors but not necessarily fan/merch collectors.

For the record, this isn’t a “foIIow 4 foIIow!! i WaNt MoRe FoLIOwErS!!” kinda deal. I just want folks who've stuck around for a long time to get a better chance at receiving something in return for watching this blog grow and evolve along with me. This is as much a celebration for y'all as it is me actually maintaining this thing for so long LOL ¯\_😂_/¯

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Fandoms

Below is just a very short list of fandoms I've previously created for. Again: I'm open to OCs and fandoms I'm not familiar with but references must be given 😌👍

Comics

Check, Please!

Marvel – MCU and comics only

DC Comics – comics only

and a metric ton of manga

Anime

Yuri!!! on ice

Haikyuu!!

Kuroko no Basuke

Gakuen Babysitters

Tanaka is Always Listless

and many, many more

Western Cartoons

Avatar: the Last Airbender / Legend of Korra

RWBY

Gravity Falls

plus many more

Misc.

Glee

Twilight

Star Wars – all movies and shows (no comics/novels)

IRL people (e.g. YouTubers, celebrities, etc) – TBD on case to case basis

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moreaulover · 2 years

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Some law of talos facts and info off the top of my head (by someone who's very hyper fixated and wants people to know more about it!!!!)

Apparently some people just didn't know that law of talos was an oc tournament 😭??? I thought that was basic info but I guess not! I'm not counting it being a tournament as a fact but more people not knowing (also some people didn't know unknown person had comics for before and after each animation??? There's literally YouTube videos with both idk what to tell you guys 💀)

Unknown persons entries are the most popular, but the 5th animation is non canon! The canon ending was by the winner Blacklillian but it's currently lost media :( there's a description of it on the lost media page, a few meantions of plot points on the tv tropes (example)

An ask + drawing related to what happened to Karl after on unknown person's tumblr (unknownpsn) we can also gather a tiny bit from the winner announcement post comments, the main point I've noticed is people talking about their disappointment in the lack of action and badly done Karl but praising the more satisfying ending. There was also apparently an epilogue by Blacklillian but that is also currently lost :(

Blacklillians entrees (along with the majority of others) are lost media! Some info can be gathered/interpreted from the lost media page and the tv tropes page (both linked at the bottom along with the intro/winner post for the contest and the wiki) A few entries are up although it's few and far between but I do encourage you to look for them on competitors' deviant art pages (I'll edit this and add list who's is up in a little while) here's a chart of the tournament though!

Here's chimbley's reference page which is the only known piece for his portion at the moment (please lmk if more has been found) *update you can buy the official chimbley archive on the artist Iris Jay's patreon for just 5 dollars :3 !!!!!

Chimbley's creator does have Twitter+tumblr but no longer makes content for him so savor what we have. We do know from the tv tropes page that chimbley was more flight than fight and all his competitors were disqualified rather than beaten in a combat (makes me giggle really hard ngl 😭)

Climber and Karl (and Rachel + Clarice obviously) are both part of the unreleased.... comic? Series? (Whatever it was going to be!) Called Castle of nations by unknown person (ofc)! There's not a ton known about it as the actual media was never released/finished and unknown person stopped posting in 2016 but there's lots asks + content on his tumblr if you want to look into it some

Karl was not going to wish for Rachel back despite common misconception! According to unknown person he was actually going to wish for an unlimited power supply to escape the amusement park permanently

There's a silly joke cosplay video called "law of talos chimbley vs Karl live action" that's available on the internet archive but someone uploaded the whole thing on tik tok (linked here) chimbley does a heel click at 8:22 i feel it's important everyone see it.

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRgK62j8/

People have also been uploading the voice actors singing various Christmas songs in character I haven't seen them all but I know Karl's video (What's this- the nightmare before Christmas) is pretty available and a clip of Chimbley's (little drummer boy) as also recently been uploaded. I think I saw Steffi's at one point but I don't remember it like at all sorry (EDJT I FOUND IT GUYS I'LL LINK IT BECAUSE IT'S HARDER TO FIND THAN THE OTHER TWO I MENTIONED)

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRgw7FhS/

Speaking of Steffi!!!!! She stars in her very own webcomic "Kiwi Blitz"!!! I'll link it here :3

That's all I can think of for rn I'll make another post if I get more info on the lost media or if I think/learn anything else!!! Here are the links to the law of talos intro/winner post, lost media page, wiki, and TV tropes!!! Once again I encourage you to look through them if you haven't!!!

#law of talos #karl law of talos #climber law of talos #endzone #endzone climber #chimbley sweep #chimbley law of talos #castle of nations

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natlacentral · 6 months

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How the Costume Designer Behind Netflix’s ‘Avatar: The Last Airbender’ Brought the Iconic Animated Looks to Life

Farnaz Khaki-Sadigh explains why Aang's outfit was so hard to perfect and shares the easter eggs hiding in the show's fashion.

2005’s Avatar: The Last Airbender is one of the best examples of world-building put to screen in television history—thanks in large part to the show's fashion. The Nickelodeon animated series pulled its viewers into the magical universe of “benders,” by giving each of the world’s four nations—the Fire Nation, the Earth Kingdom, the Water Tribe, and the Air Nomads—a distinct, recognizable aesthetic inspired by Asian and Indigenous cultures. The original ATLA also handled intricate character arcs and heavy themes around war and colonialism with a nuance that both kids and adults could appreciate, and the gorgeous 2D animation sucked every viewer deeply into the fantasy world. So Netflix’s new live-action adaptation had a tall order to meet when it came to bringing the beloved cartoon to life.

The streamer met the challenge with an impressive, charming flair by gathering a talented cast and crew filled with fans of the original cartoon, including costume designer Farnaz Khaki-Sadigh. While speaking with Marie Claire over Zoom, the Emmy winner—who previously worked on sci-fi/fantasy shows like The 100 and R.L. Stine’s The Haunting Hour— shared how she was able to successfully infuse real-world cultural inspirations into all of the outfits. It's something she hopes has lasting effects outside of Hollywood: “I hope that it inspires [viewers] to learn about other cultures and different parts of the world, to want to go visit them and understand them,” she says of the new series.

Here, Khaki-Sadigh chats about her favorite costumes from the original series, her months-long research process, and the practicalities she considered while designing real-life versions of Team Avatar’s looks.

Marie Claire: How familiar were you with the original animated series when you got the opportunity to work on the Netflix show?

Farnaz Khaki-Sadigh: I watched it a dozen times before I even got the job. When it was first announced that they were going to do a live-action series, I was like, ‘I want to work on this.’ This is a dream job.

Now knowing you're a fan, how did you approach honoring the original show while putting your own spin on the live-action clothes?

FKS: I definitely wanted to pay homage to the original. I think a lot of that comes through with the color palettes that we've chosen. [Also] keeping the silhouettes of the original animation and then breathing life into it with real-world materials and inspirations from the various cultures. The animation is more of a broader reference of the Asian and Indigenous cultures, so we went in and did a bit more specification—to give it a more dimension and narrow each culture in the show down to a specific group.

With the Southern Water Tribe, for example, we did take a lot from the Inuit culture. But I also learned that they did a lot of trades with certain other Indigenous groups and Northern Vikings, so we have a lot of those influences coming into [their clothing] as well. With the Northern Water tribe, we went a little bit more towards the Siberian Indigenous groups, such as the Yupiks and the Turkic tribes, to give it more variety and differentiation between the two fictional tribal nations. Then with the earth-benders, we see other cultures referenced. Omashu is very much based on Southeast Asian and Indian cultures. Whereas, there are smaller towns that we see in certain episodes that are based on other Asian cultures and Asian countries. So we brought in some Korean influences and some Vietnamese influences [for those]. We wanted to give [each nation’s aesthetic] a broader spectrum as opposed to just unifying everything under the one umbrella.

What were some of the challenges you faced in bringing these animated looks to life?

FKS: It was definitely a lot of trial and error. You want to be authentic, but then you also have to take into consideration the fact that it is a show, and it is present-day as opposed to the mid-1800s, when the show is technically based on. They used a lot of materials back then that we don't use in the present-day. So it's just finding a balance of making the costumes look like they belong in that time period, but they're still comfortable enough for actors to wear today, and that they can move in it and fight and do all of their actions. We tested a lot of things. We built mockups and had stunt performers try to do fight moves in them to see what we had to change. Like if the weight of the armors were too heavy, or if they didn't sit properly, and [the actors] couldn't move their arms a certain way to do the bending that they needed to do. And we adjusted accordingly. We had a good enough chunk of time to do these trial-and-error runs to make sure that, once the garments were actually put on the performer, they were actually functional for them, and they could move and perform in them.

Is there a character who you really loved designing for, or one of the costumes that you're really proud of?

FKS: I cannot pick a favorite, to be honest. Every time a costume was done, and we would see it for the first time on camera, I think I cried a little bit because it felt so good. It felt surreal as a fan too, just to see everything come to life.

Aang has the most recognizable look out of all of the characters. What was the process of figuring out his costume?

FKS: That one was the hardest one because it is one of the simpler ones out of all of them. Just because it's simple, it doesn't make it easy. We had to go through so many different materials to make sure that it flowed and moved with the air-bending. Then we had to make sure that the colors worked with the animation, but were also realistic at the same time. They had to work within our Air Nomad world, especially since the Southern Air Temple was based on Tibetan monks and their aesthetic [on the show] was pulled from that culture and their color palettes. We decided that, within the Air Nomads, we couldn't use any synthetic materials or anything that came from animals, just because of what that culture is based on. Everything had to be natural fibers. For the color of the Cape, I think we went through anywhere between like six and 10 different fabrics. We made so many different capes for him because the color kept shifting under the lights. So we had to find the perfect material and the perfect color, that moved, looked great, and didn't change color under the camera lights. One of the simplest costumes took us the longest time to figure out, but it was worth it.

The show also has so many great accessories from Katara’s necklace and Sokka’s bone choker to the Fire Nation crowns and helmets. What was the process of figuring out which accessories from the cartoon would be brought into live action?

FKS: We wanted to feature anything that was really iconic to the characters. Katara's necklace is a very big part of her character. It's a memento from her mother that sort of brings the North and the South together. It's all those little things that really made the characters in the animation. You look at that piece and you know exactly who that person is without them actually having it on. So those are the elements that we wanted to include.

Did it ever get overwhelming to handle something on this scale of world-building?

FKS: Absolutely, all the time. I did so much research and so much reading and talking to people from those cultures and learning from them. I probably spent like three or four months before I started the project—just between prepping for my interviews and then prepping to start conceptualizing once I had the job. I was constantly trying to learn more about the materials that were used and why they were used, and why certain cultures used certain colors and what it represented. There's how the materials moved; how the garments moved; how different ranks and social status affected and influenced the garments in that time period; the wars, the trade routes, and what was and wasn't traded, what was traded for what...all of those things. It really was a historical study of the cultures within the story as well as in real life. For example, Kyoshi is very much based on Japanese culture, and specifically Samurai culture. There's actually a group of female warriors in Japan called Onna-bu Geisha. A lot of the inspiration for the Kyoshi Warriors comes from those female samurai warriors.

Are there any looks you're looking forward to bringing to life in future seasons?

I'd really love to do Ba Sing Se. That would be a world that I really would love to create, because I think there's just so much there that we can play on. I would love to do Ember Island. That was a really fun storyline in Book Three, and I think it would be really fun to realize that.

#natla #atla #avatar the last airbender #netflix avatar #netflix atla #avatar netflix #atla netflix #farnaz khaki sadigh #interview #marie claire

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