#man maybe I should make lore for her

[noinspoman]

redrawing an old character idea I had almost a decade ago

[kalosian-woods]

Hello!!! I don’t know if your taking requests for snippets rn, but would you be able to write something about XY’s mirror world? It is tRAGICALLY underrated and I saw what YIU wrote for it a bit ago and loved it! Thanks if so :DD

Tysm, I'm happy that it resonated with you so well!!! :D It really is an underrated piece of lore from XY, which is part of anipoke's general weirdness about deep mythos that can get dropped but never really delved into, especially as it is considered a 'filler' ep. But hey, my goal is to delve into whatever I can get my hands on within Kalos and so here we are heh.

Going to write up a snippet for you, but beware, very exposition-y. Might as well make the best of both worlds (lol).

__________________________________________________

“A mirror world?”

Ash bit his lip as he watched the ground, seeing a slice of his face on it. It’s strange, hearing her voice without any of the bite. One part of him wished it was there all the same. “Well, this can’t be my world. You’re all so… different.”

The sound of screeching and scratching reached his ears, and he cowered for a moment. This Clemont is more occupied with cold metal, bending it to his will with force that is nowhere on his face or tone, and that is strange too. Back in his world, his Clemont will always be tracking mud from some arcane spell or running race. His face will always be stuck in a proud grin, his mouth always running with some sort of retort or boastful explanation. Ash briefly wondered if his Clemont would believe him about this world.

“So, how are we like in your world, then?” And that’s Bonnie. Or at least, this world’s Bonnie. In his world, she wouldn’t really give him the time of day. She was proud of her role in orbiting her older brother, just as her older brother was proud of his strength and skill.

Ash stuck a finger on the ground, skirting around the reflective surface. “Well, you see, I’m just a new Trainer. I came to Kalos because I heard that I could get stronger there, and that’s where I met all of you.”

Some silence. Then, “So we’re all still travelling with each other in your world?”

I didn’t want to, not really, flashed into his mind at her voice, but Ash forced himself to nod. “You were a strong Trainer. You said you could help me. And, uh, Clemont came around too. He was tired of being in his Gym and wanted to see everything outside, so he took a break and came with us.”

“I did what?!” this Clemont gasped as Bonnie laughed beside him. Ash could slightly detect a sad note behind that.

He shrugged. The inventor, because that’s what he is, picked up the screwdriver he dropped and went back to work. Ash thought he was out of the conversation before he heard a tentative, “So, what kind of Gym? Were we still in Lumiose?”

“You always were.” ‘The perfect place for everyone to see my brilliance!’. “Ground Type. You were fourth in the Gym Challenge.”

“So the order is reversed?” She sounded interested as she sat back. “That must be interesting. Or, since that’s all you know…”

“That’s okay.” Ash didn’t even know what to say to that. It just came out, like instinct. He could feel that questioning look again, and he scratched the ground harder. “You were always interested in the Gym Challenge, even though you said it was too easy. You— I mean, the other Serena. My one. She was very strong. My Clemont said she could be Champion if she put her mind to it.” And some other choice words that none of them needed to know.

“That’s funny.” This Bonnie stuck her tongue out as she thought to herself. “Our Ash is very strong. He’s brave too, and so are his Pokemon, you know, and he’s always sticking around with Pikachu.”

“Really?” Ash couldn’t help it. He hears Pikachu’s name and its like his heart is opening, is open, is ready to receive that love in any shape or form as long as it is yellow and bright and full of electricity and sparking cheeks.

This Bonnie nodded. “Yeah! He’s the one challenging the Gyms here. He didn’t get to challenge Clemont though…”

“That’s because we made a promise!” this Clemont barked out, cheeks going red, and the three shared a small laugh as Ash thought to himself, legs drawn up but slightly lowering as the conversation flows on, fingers free from the ground itself. It was weird that Bonnie was calling her brother by name. Weird that Clemont wouldn’t take on any challenge head-on, and weird that they were all friendly like this.

“Okay, okay, what colour is the sky there?”

“It’s green.”

But it’s nice.

“What Pokemon do you have?”

“Uh, Froakie, Fletchling, and Hawlucha. They’re not really battlers, though.”

It’s warm.

“Then what do you do?”

“Nothing much.”

“C’mon! I’m sure there’s something you like. Oh, oh, can I help find it?”

“I guess…”

Maybe, in a different world, he would belong here. And maybe that version of him… will appreciate it as much as he does. Or at least he hopes so.

This world was so kind. Ash hopes that nothing bad will befall it.

He hopes that this world can keep going on and on, as beautiful as his other friends has made it out. And he hopes that this own world can learn to be kind too, and that maybe he can be kinder as well, and maybe he can be the one to start the change. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

(Clemont adds the final adjustment to the new machine he is building, and the mirror shines with all of their faces on one surface. Ash does not shy away. Even with her in the picture.

This isn’t his group after all. Over here, this is just Serena, and he is just Ash. No crybaby here.)

In a world with a green sky and a cave with jutting mirrors, a Pikachu stands and fights the invaders.

He knows that they are not the heroes of justice. He knows that they are twisted and wrong and bad, but this Pikachu has faced down titans and land-movers and Psychics with powers that no mind can even comprehend, so he will fight and he will not back down.

That Meowth, smarmy and with a backwater accent, calls out, “What’s wrong with you, Pikachu? Aren’t you going to run back to your Trainer?”

He briefly remembers those tears in those brown eyes. He shakes his head and roars, a sharp, scratchy sound, a sound that has cowed the creator himself. That Meowth winces, and the humans step up, glints in their eyes that betrays a hunger like no other.

“Who cares about the Twerp? Let’s just catch him now, while we still can!” The woman swings over the device, such a strange contraption for villains wearing the face of heroes that prefer action with their own two hands, and he slams it down with Iron Tail. They grimace, and then try again, and again.

Pikachu will not back down. Pikachu will fight, because his Trainer cannot do it alone and he is all his Trainer has left.

And so he attacks and attacks and attacks until he has no more.

And when they reach towards him, black gloves so foreign on their familiar hands, he bites and scratches and buys time. He will make it hard for them, because the world is hard and he is hard and his Ash is so soft, too soft, and so Pikachu will do anything for him.

Anything.

And so he does not give up the fight. Even as they push him inside the device. Even as they crow that his electricity will not penetrate it, because his powers has challenged skies and space and Pikachu will be with Ash and that is a promise.

And Pikachu does not break his promise.

[moopypaw]

man i hope nothing bad happens to rajan.

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

the reader has each time that a member of her family tries to create a bond with her:I am not your pet, I never liked you, I don't care about you I won't wait for you. I hate you.

Yum, good soup!

They'll do anything to spend time with him. Bruce has never watched anime in his life, but you love *Ouran High School Host Club* and *Soul Eater*. With no choice, you watch with him, only for him to ask fifty or more questions. And you always end up leaving him behind in the dust. But he's trying; you're still his baby, even if you side with him like that.

Dick always wanted to help you out with your like a big brother should, showing you the way, but you growl like a wild animal if he gets close to curls. Sure, you let him put growth oil in your cornrows, but that's all he'll ever do. You avoid that man like he has cheese touch.

Jason hasn't been a teen in forever, maybe reading a comic or two and bonding with you about how stupid comics draw women or how ugly the super-realistic style is, just for readers to roll their eyes every time he speaks. Why is he talking to me? Come on, laugh at his jokes; he knows you, he's funny. Come on giggle!

Tim, you both are nerds. Why don’t you guys play some D&D? "Nah, I have my own party." Tekken 8? Nah, you prefer MK. Come on, just hang out with him! Geeks stick together, but for some reason, you’d rather play with random online players. He’s literally the superior player, and he’s way cooler and funnier, so don’t ditch him for your friends—he's a better rival!

Damian, please, oh, please let him hang out with you. Let him be a little brother; let him ride on your back. Let him play video games with you. Let him come to your room when he has a nightmare, but you refuse; you blow him off like the plague. Don’t tell him you’re not free—he tracked your schedule!

Stephanie, let's go shopping, paint each other's nails, talk about our crazy crushes, go shopping, and max out Bruce's cards. Oh, you're busy? That's cool. Wait, all your friends are hanging out together, and you're going to Chuck E. Cheese? Why don't you let her join? Oh, you guys were planning this and you don't have an extra space? Maybe next time you'll spend time with your favorite gal pal.

Cass will psychoanalyze all the shonen you've ever watched. Even if it's unrealistic and people don't scream for 15 minutes and suddenly get powerful in the show. Oh, Kengan Ashura! Tell her about the lore and all the fighters; please talk to her about it. She'll pose like the fighters and recreate the moves for you. Come on, just hang out with her. She won't talk, or she'll talk your ear off, but your face of indifference tells her you really don't care; you'd rather watch something else. Fine, Cass will watch it with you.

Duke, come chill with him. Sure, you guys have only had two conversations, and so what? You can't have more? Listen to Kendrick with him; why don't you both bond over not liking and hating on Drake? Schoolboy Q shit. He'll even play Doechii's Chromakopia is out. Let's rap to Sticky. You don't fuck with that? Oh, it's cool; he'll listen to whatever you like. He'll do whatever you like! You guys can watch Boondocks together and make random references that only you two understand. Let him give you a retwist. Let him be your brother, but you'd rather hang out with some loser from your school? What's that about?

[walkingnearfoxes]

Meet-and-Greet (Homelander x Reader)

You have a run-in with a disguised supe at VoughtCon. It goes better(?) than expected.

Warnings for smut, incels, and pre-season 1 Homelander.

VoughtCon.

It’s your first time going to the annual convention. When its location was announced to the public, you and your friends worked tirelessly to afford tickets and pay rent simultaneously. It wasn’t every year that Vought chose your home city as the base for its biggest convention, and you couldn’t miss the chance to see the Seven in person.

The Seven. The idea of being in the same building as the world’s most famous superheroes was unbelievable. You wouldn’t call yourself a Seven fanatic, but you certainly did well when bar trivia was on superhero lore. No one could blame you for that. Vought did an excellent job making their heroes appear larger than life, and while you weren’t sure you would ever have the confidence to speak to one of them, being in the same space as them was more than satisfactory. 

The convention halls are as glorious and overwhelming as you expected them to be. Beautiful booths line the main room in aisles upon aisles. Vendors sell products ranging from Seven plushies to hero-shaped soap to personal devices that make you glad for the convention’s 18 and older age restriction. It is all devastating to your bank account, but a wonderful sight to behold. Your friends had registered you all for a few panels throughout the day, but you’re sure the booths alone would be enough to entertain you.

At some point, you and your friends accidentally separated. They were entranced by a company selling dice, and you lost them in a sea of A-Train cosplayers. It wasn’t too horrible a fate. You would see your friends regardless at the first panel in an hour, giving you plenty of time to peruse VoughtCon at your own pace. Your steps eventually land you at a booth that crafts teas personalized for each Seven member. 

You pick up one of the bags of Homelander tea. Stars and stripes decorate the b; his name is written in bold red letters across the packaging. Underneath his name is the tea description - a crisp black tea with red hibiscus, vanilla, and clove. 

“Would you like a sample?” The vendor, a woman dressed in a stunning Queen Maeve cosplay, walks up to you with a smile. “That’s our bestseller.”

“I can see why,” You say warmly. “It sounds delicious. Would love a sample, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Of course!” She beams and turns to grab a sample from behind the booth. She carefully hands a tiny cup out to you. “Should be the perfect temperature by now.”

You take a sip. Sure enough, it tastes heavenly. You detect the vanilla first, then encounter the harsher clove. The notes blend perfectly with the hibiscus. It all cultivates into a smooth, strong cup of tea. You let out a slight hum of pleasure as you smile back at the vendor. “Damn. That’s good.”

She opens her mouth to answer, but a man beside you cuts in. “I really think the vanilla  was the wrong call.”

You blink and turn to face this conversation intruder. He is one of the many Homelander cosplayers you have encountered today, but one of the least impressive. The padding to the suit is obvious and uneven; his biceps look unnecessarily large while his legs have lost all muscle mass. His blonde wig looks stringy. Worst of all, he is giving the vendor a look that says he knows his opinion is correct. Maybe said arrogance would be more at home on the real hero, but on this half-assed version, it looks pathetic.

The vendor, bless her, smiles politely at him. “What would you change? We’re always open to feedback.”

“Get rid of the vanilla completely,” The man says, a sentence you never thought could be said so pompously. “It’s too soft. Add something like…cinnamon. More powerful.”

“Jesus Christ,” You mutter, earning a snort of amusement from a man beside you.

Cosplay Homelander takes this reaction as an invitation to speak to you. He turns to you, his hands on his hips in an obvious imitation of the real hero. On him, it’s more akin to a pouting child. “The strongest man on the planet needs something more interesting than vanilla.” He declares.

The vendor shoots an apologetic look towards you as other people come up to the booth. You smile and wave her off, allowing her to go and cater to more polite customers. This leaves you with Homelander Lite. You could probably walk away, but this man is just asking for a confrontation - and you’re in a good enough mood to provide.

“Did you actually try the tea?” You ask him, holding up your tiny sample cup for emphasis. “It’s really good.”

He scoffs. “I don’t have to try it to know it’s wrong. He needs something more complex.”

You tilt your head. “You speak for him?”

Another chuckle from the man behind you.

Fake Homelander sputters and then waves his hand. “Look, I know Homelander. He’s the fastest and strongest man alive. He broke the sound barrier when he was seven-”

“Six.”

Your interruption brings him to another stumble. His jaw drops as he looks at you. “E-excuse me?”

You shrug. “If you’re going based on canon, Homelander is six in Origins. Not seven. Remember the scene in the train yard?”

You can see each gear screeching to a halt in Diet Homelander’s head. Before he can muster up a retort, the man behind you makes his presence known. He stands beside you, arms folded across his chest as he stares at the younger man. “I think you should just walk away, buddy,” He tells him. “Can’t recover from that.”

Deflated Homelander looks between you and the man, his cheeks as red as his cape. With an incoherent and aggravated mumble, he storms off. You watch him trail away with a smile of satisfaction; sure, it would have been better if it hadn’t taken another man to get him to leave, but you’ll take the small victory. You turn to the more pleasant stranger. “Thanks for the backup.”

The man grins. He’s dressed in light jeans, a red shirt, and a blue cargo jacket - one of the few people here not dressed as someone else. “Not a problem. That was fun, he says, looking down at the tea still in your hand before looking back up at you. “So. Big Homelander fan, huh?”

You smile back and shrug. “I know enough not to embarrass myself at a con.”

He laughs. “Clearly. For the record, I like the tea too. I think it’s just perfect.”

You look closer at the man’s face. A baseball cap covers most of his hair, but you can still see some blond strands. Even in the hat's shadow, his eyes are a striking blue. You frown, your gaze drifting to one of the massive Homelander banners hanging from the high ceiling. The resemblance is…uncanny. When you look back at the stranger, his smile has turned downright devious. “Darn. You caught me.”

You clutch your sample cup so tightly you’re surprised it doesn’t crack under the strain. “You…no. You’re not…”

The man glances around the two of you. When he seems satisfied no one is listening or watching, he meets your gaze again - and this time, his eyes are a simmering red. You can feel the heat from where you’re standing. You don’t have time to gasp before he blinks them back to normal with an impish smile. “Yeah. I am.”

Your brain short-circuits. You want to ask questions. You want to apologize for existing in front of him. You want to flee. But all you can manage is a quiet voice that sounds nothing like your own. “You…look different without a cape.”

Homelander barks a laugh. “Oh, I think I like you.” Without looking, he takes the cup from your hands and tosses it into the nearest trash bin. “Follow me.”

It’s not a question. He immediately turns and begins walking down one of the aisles. You walk after him in a daze. He seamlessly bends through the crowd, no one wise to the fact that the leader of the Seven is brushing past their shoulders. Even without their knowledge, he is effortless in carving a path for himself through the crowd - and, by extension, you.

Homelander finally leads you to another, much quieter branch of the convention center. He guides you through one door, and then another, before you’re in a silent hallway. You realize each door has a name of one of the Seven on it. No security, but who would try to startle a supe? Homelander stops in front of the door with his name, The Homelander, written in bold red. He opens it with a quiet hum and steps inside. When you hesitate at the threshold, he turns and looks back at you. He looks confused at first, then settles on an amused smile. “Come on. I don’t bite unless you ask.”

Your breath stutters a moment, and by the quirk to his lips, you’re sure he heard it. You step inside anyway.

Homelander’s makeshift dressing room for VoughtCon is a maze of color. In one corner, a pile of gifts from fans has grown tall enough to rival your height. You spy dozens of bouquets, wrapped packages, letters, all yet to be opened or read. A vanity sits in the opposite corner with a mirror, various trunks and, of course, the suit. His classic suit is hanging on a black mannequin without a head, a startling contrast to the real man who led you here. The reds, whites, and blues are somehow twice as vibrant as they were on any of the cosplayers. As you admire it, Homelander removes his hat and tosses it onto the vanity chair. He brushes a hand through his hair before turning to face you. Without the cap, there is no doubting who he is. You’ve seen that stare on screens, banners, and countless pieces of merchandise. You never thought you’d find it staring back at you.

Homelander studies you briefly. “What’s wrong? Never been invited backstage before?”

You huff a laugh that sounds much squeakier than your usual laugh. “Uh…no. First time.”

“First time,” Homelander repeats in an amused murmur. He steps closer, and you resist the urge to move away. There’s something so contradictory in his presence. You find yourself wanting to go to him and run all at once. He seems to notice the inner conflict and shakes his head as if easing frightened prey. “Relax. Your heart’s pounding like a little rabbit.”

Right. Homelander can hear your nerves. You take a slow breath and look at the gift tower as a distraction. “That’s awfully impressive.”

Homelander laughs and turns to look at it, his hands falling to his hips. You remember the poor comparison to him the two of you had chased off outside. “Ah, the adoring fans. It’s a shame I can’t read through all of them, but…it’s nice to see.”

Something about those words seems to ring hollow, as though he doesn’t fully believe what he’s saying - like it’s something he’s rehearsed. You watch him for a moment before his gaze falls back to you. He notices your stare and lets out a huff of laughter. “What?”

“Why are you in disguise?” You ask, gesturing to his outfit. If you ignore the knowing glint in his eyes, he looks more like a soccer dad than a hero. “Do you do this a lot?”

 Homelander shakes his head and tugs off the jacket. His arms are strong, but he’s leaner than you expected - especially with his suit standing like a voyeur behind him. “These conventions can get real stale after a decade or two,” He explains. He turns to place the jacket alongside his hat, carefully draping it over the head of the chair. “Sometimes it’s nice to see who your real fans are.”

“And invite them back to your dressing room?” You ask with some revived humor.

Homelander doesn’t answer immediately. He instead takes the time to blatantly look you up and down. You feel a familiar heat in your stomach flicker as he steps back closer to you. This time, seeing the growing hunger across his face, you can’t help but take an unconscious step backwards. Your back hits the wall, and he follows to lean dangerously close to your face.

“Like I said, these conventions get stale,” He purrs softly. “And lonely.”

A million thoughts fight for power inside of you at once. You wonder how often Homelander has done this with other women at other conventions. You confirm with yourself that he and Queen Maeve broke up a year ago, so it isn’t an affair. Are you really moments away from hooking up with the Homelander? It can’t be real. You must be caught in a vivid imaginary scenario and will be back in the vendor aisles any second.

Then, his hand reaches out and takes your forearm. He squeezes gently, and any rational thought in you begins to flatten. His thumb brushes over your smooth skin in a circle. “What do you say?” He asks, his voice dropping further. “Want a more intimate meet-and-greet?”

It’s an awful line, but surely someone of his stature is allowed those lines more than most. You finally smile. “How could I say no?”

“You couldn’t,” He murmurs back, and presses his lips to yours. At first, his kiss is gentle. He kisses you like he’s trying to memorize the curves of your lips. You give yourself to it readily, returning the kiss with a sweetness that cuts a smile into his mouth. Then, when he decides he has you, he becomes hungry. He slips his tongue greedily into your mouth and takes control of the kiss as his hands reach up to cup your face. His hands are warm against your cheeks, and you can’t help your soft moan of approval. You taste his tongue, and can’t help a quiet laugh. He feels it and pulls away a bit, looking almost insulted. “What?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s just…you actually kind of taste like vanilla.”

Homelander blinks, blinks again, and then slowly smiles. This smile is different than his others. For a split moment, it isn’t guarded. “Well…ain’t that ironic?” He murmurs, then eagerly leans in to kiss you again. You respond by resting your hands on his shoulders, pressing tenderly on the tight muscles. He growls against your mouth, an animalistic sound that curls between your legs. One of his thighs slides between yours. It pins you in place against the door, and with a slight nudge, he puts pressure against your crotch that makes you gasp against his mouth. He chuckles and pulls away to begin dotting kisses along your neck. “Sensitive,” He murmurs between kisses and little nips. “Been a while, sweetheart?”

It may have been, but that doesn’t sound very sexy. “You’re just good at this,” You answer instead.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Homelander’s smirk is plain against your skin, even as he bites down hard. You gasp at the surprise of his sharp teeth, but he immediately soothes away any pain with a tongue circling slowly over the mark he’s left. He sucks down delicately, and it only leaves you wondering what else that mouth is capable of. He pulls back and looks at your neck to admire his handiwork. “There. A little souvenir for ya.”

You huff a laugh. “A badge of honor.”

“Knew I liked you,” He growls before kissing you hard. He doesn’t break away from the kiss as he hands nimbly finds your pants and undoes the button. He shimmies them down your legs - and your panties along with them - with a practiced ease that again makes you wonder how often he’s pulled this little trick. If he keeps touching you like this, you can’t bring yourself to care much. You aid him by arching your hips and kicking the offensive materials to the side with a little shake. Homelander wastes little time then in kissing his way down your body. He ducks his head underneath your shirt, and you feel him playfully nip above your belly button before his hands find the backs of your thighs. “Up we go.”

Homelander hooks your thighs over his shoulders. Your back is pressed against the door now, your weight entirely on him. The leader of the Seven is on his knees before you. Despite knowing the man is capable of holding up airplanes, a flare of anxiety grabs you. You curl your fingers in his hair - an action that makes him unabashedly groan - and whisper. “You don’t have to-”

“I don’t have to what? Eat you out?” He looks up at you from between your legs with an arched brow. “You’re a fan. You should know I don’t do anything I don’t want to do.”

You don’t have time for a reply before he’s licking a long stripe up your cunt. He groans first at your taste, but your moan of pleasure is quick to follow. Just like his kisses, he starts slow. He takes the time to know your taste and what flicks of his tongue make you twitch in his arms. He eats you out like he has all the time in the world. His hands eventually wander from under your thighs to your ass, squeezing your cheeks with a possessiveness that would frighten you if you weren’t so aroused. He’s vocal, frequently moaning and slurping at you like you’re his dessert. It leaves your legs shaking, and he hasn’t even sped up. Your clit throbs, and you whimper. “Homelander, please…”

He fully stands up, one hand still on your ass while the other presses to your stomach, pinning you easily to the wall. He’s now merciless against your clit, sucking with a relentlessness that has you spazzing against his hold. He’s inhuman with the way he works you. You forget everything about where you are, that several supes in this hallway can almost certainly hear your moans. All you know is that you might lose your mind if you don’t come soon.

And then he stops.

You let out a loud whine of disapproval before you can stop yourself. Homelander laughs, easing you down to bring your trembling legs around his waist. He coos at your expression. “You look like a kid that dropped their ice cream one.”

You squirm, but his one hand on your hip is enough to keep you still. “That was cruel,” You whisper, your voice hoarse.

“Oh, you have no idea,” He murmurs, and kisses you gently. He tastes like you, and you can’t help but groan before he pulls away to speak against your lips. “Don’t worry. I’ll make you come. But you’re not coming without me.”

He kisses you again. You can hear him unbuckle his belt and shuffle his jeans down. Instinctively, you tense. He shushes you, turning to brush his lips against the side of your face. “Relax, babe. Just gotta…” He whispers as he slowly thrusts into you. His cock pushes into your sopping heat inch by inch. You let out a strangled gasp at how he seems to press at each delicate point inside you. As he bottoms out, he throws his head back with a sigh of relief. “There we go…”

He’s thick, a stretch that would have been painful without his diligent prep. Instead of pain, you can’t think straight. You have never felt this full in your life. Your breath comes out in gasps, and when your eyes lock with his, he grins. “First supe dick, huh?”

You let out a shaky laugh. “First supe dick.”

“Well, hang on tight,” He murmurs. His hands cradle your hips as he thrusts up, pushing you up against the door. Your eyes fall shut, but his gaze never leaves your face. He goes harder as he feels your body adjust until he’s fucking you against the door like it’s his last night on this Earth. His hands are surely leaving bruises against your hips, but you relish it. Your head falls back in bliss, a series of moans spilling out you have no control over.

“God, so many sluts out there would kill to be where you are,” Homelander hisses against your ear. “You’re like a glove on my cock, fuck. Take it. You’re fucking mine now.”

It’s unclear if he means for you to hear all of this rambling. He mumbles most of it against your neck, and you’re both too far into this to make much sense of anything. It doesn’t matter. You orgasm regardless, your voice suddenly gone as it vibrates through your body. Homelander gasps against your skin as your cunt clenches down on his cock, and he immediately follows you in climax - as if he had been waiting for you to finish. He finishes inside of you, and it nearly triggers you to a second orgasm with how full you feel.

There’s a knock on the door.

Every muscle in your body tightens, but Homelander doesn’t move. His head is still buried against your neck as he calls out an agitated reply. “What?”

“We’re on in 10, Homelander,” The Deep’s voice calls from the hall, caught between amused and nervous. “But…uh…take your time.”

“Go away, Deep,” Homelander growls, still inside you.

You hear feet quickly walking away, but you still don’t move. Homelander initiates the move for both of you, slowly returning your feet to the ground. His hands remain on your hips as he chuckles and kisses your jaw. “Well…I’m not usually one to wham and bam, but looks like we’re on a time crunch.”

He lifts you off of his cock and deposits your feet back on the ground. He steps away from you to grab your discarded pants and underwear, tossing them to you lazily. “Hurry up.”

You listen, feeling half-drunk. Your underwear is soaked through, and you wince lightly as you pull your jeans over your shaky legs. Only when you’re fully dressed and straightening out your hair do you realize your phone isn’t in your back pocket anymore. You look up. Homelander is holding it and typing away. He looks at you with a smirk as he hands it back to you. “That’s where I’m staying tonight. Room code’s attached. I’ll be there around eight.”

When all you can do is blink dumbly at him, Homelander snorts and takes your shoulders. “Guess we have to save the banter before the orgasms, huh?” He easily spins you to the door, and pats your ass. “See you later, sweetheart.”

You open the door with your phone in hand, stepping outside back into the hallway. You turn to look at him again in your continued daze. “See you.”

Homelander winks, then closes the door. The last thing you see is him walking towards his suit.

You walk in a trance through the forgivingly empty hallway and find your way back to the convention center's main hall. It’s emptied a bit without multiple panels going on, and it isn’t long before one of your friends spots you. She runs up to your side in a hurry. “Dude, where have you been?! We’ve been looking for you!”

You blink. “I, uh…got a bit sidetracked.”

“By what…” Your friend trails off, eyes widening as she spots the hickey on your neck. She laughs. “Oh. That kind of side mission. At a con? You dog.”

Your lips twitch into a smile. Would she even believe you if you told her? 

“Give me the details on the way,” She says, taking your hand and pulling you towards another hall. “I don’t wanna miss Homelander’s opening remarks.”

You can’t help but bark a laugh. Right. You’re going to be sitting through a panel led by Homelander with his hotel room on your phone and his come soaking your underwear. 

Your friend sees the look on your face and gives you a curious look. “What?”

“I’ll explain later,” You say with another laugh. “Come on. Let’s hear what the All-American man has to say.”

[jude-duarte-wannabe]

my love, all mine

a little fluffy blurb as a late birthday present for my darling love @hugleclerc <3 love you gigi <3

warning you now that there are a few changes in the lore and history surrounding charles and max's relationship in this.

pairing; charles leclerc x fem!verstappen reader

blurb; falling in love with your older brothers childhood friend and rival was a battle for survival when he found out but now that you've made it through unharmed, your next goal is make sure your new husband survives your wedding reception speech.

currently playing; first man by camila cabello "you're looking at me, while walking down the aisle with tears in your eyes, maybe he deserves me"

From the moment you stood at the altar, with the words "I do" ready to escape your lips the moment you were asked, you had already begun mentally preparing the speech you would deliver at the reception. Your older brother Max had needed a fair bit of convincing before accepting your relationship with Charles. It wasn’t that he had discovered it in a bad way—it just so happened that he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and caught a glimpse over Charles's shoulder, reading texts from you that would surely require bleach to forget.

With your hair cascading down your back, the intricately styled updo long gone after you’d grown tired of its pinching and pulling at your scalp, the delicate silk of your wedding dress swishing softly as you padded barefoot across the dancefloor, you were fully aware of the curious glances from the older members of both your families. But you were the bride, so they couldn't say a word.

A soft smile graced your face as you carefully took the microphone from Lorenzo, your new brother-in-law, who had just finished his groomsman speech. Your gaze locked with Charles’s across the room, where he sat at the head table, his eyes focused entirely on you.

Charles couldn't help but smile as he watched you take the microphone from his brother, his heart brimming with love. His angel of a wife stood at the center of the room, ready to deliver a speech that would no doubt bring him to tears once again. But that was fine by Max; it gave him more material for blackmail.

Lorenzo stepped away as you took center stage, offering you a smile before returning to his seat beside Charles’s family.

"So, for those of you here tonight who don't know me... I'm the bride!" A soft giggle, which Charles often described as the sound of the softest bell, escaped your lips, filled with the pure happiness of finally saying those words. The room filled with laughter at your playful joke. Charles himself chuckled, his gaze fixed on you with adoration, excited and nervous to hear what would come next.

"Yes... much to my older brother Max’s dismay, I am indeed the bride. And for those of you who know me and my brother, you know we didn’t exactly have the best childhood," you continued, the briefest pause in your voice as memories flooded back. They hit you with the force of a speeding truck, but you quickly recovered, picking up the next words.

"Fortunately, things changed the day my brother met Charles. Yep, that’s right, Max met him first, and I still got the ring. Lestappen, my ass," you added, the room bursting into laughter. Even Charles joined in, knowing full well the playful tension between him and Max, which had become a frequent topic in your household.

"Charles and his family were the nicest people little me had ever met, and his maman, Pascale..." A bright smile spread across your face at the mention of your new mother-in-law’s name. "She basically adopted Max and me into her family and treated us the way we always should have been. She was the only real parent I’ve ever known. I’m just sorry I didn’t get to grow up under the care of not only Pascale but also her truly inspiring husband, Hervé, may he rest in peace, the way Charles did."

A wave of affection and understanding spread through the room, with many guests nodding in agreement. Pascale, too, wiped away a tear as she heard you speak so lovingly about her late husband.

In the corner of your eye, you caught the shared glance between Arthur and Lorenzo, their affection for you and Max evident in their eyes, and their appreciation for your kind words equally clear.

"Growing up with Charles and his family was... an experience. We barely understood each other at the best of times, with Max and me growing up speaking Dutch and Charles's family speaking French. Honestly, I still don’t understand half of what Charles is saying."

The room erupted with laughter again as the guests shared in your lighthearted story. Charles couldn't help but laugh too, his love for you only growing stronger with each passing moment. He still remembered the first time he’d met you, the way you stumbled over English words in a hurried attempt to communicate. He found it adorable then, and he still did.

"Charles... mijn liefje, I’m kidding. It’s only about a quarter of the time that I don’t understand you," you teased, earning a playful roll of his eyes and a smirk.

"I’m sure every girl here can relate to having had awkward childhood crushes," you continued, and a chorus of amused giggles followed, with many of the women nodding in agreement. "And I know what you’re all thinking... 'Oh, how cute, she’s been in love with Charles since she was a kid.'"

The room filled with 'aww’s, especially from the older ladies who loved a good love story. But Charles smirked, waiting to hear what would come next.

"Well, you'd be wrong," you said, your tone teasing. "And I can't believe I'm admitting this, but I think my very first crush was actually on Lorenzo..." An awkward chuckle escaped your lips as you looked at Lorenzo, where he sat with his fiancée, Charlotte. "Don’t worry, Charlotte, he’s all yours," you added, holding your hands up in innocence, causing a soft laugh to slip from your lips.

Lorenzo shook his head playfully, smirking as he squeezed Charlotte’s hand in reassurance.

"I’m truly glad everything worked out this way in the end... marrying an athlete is highly recommended, ladies," you continued, casting a sheepish smile at Max. "Max, cover your ears for me."

Max dramatically rolled his eyes but made no attempt to stop you. He already knew where this was going.

"I mean, the stamina these men have is mind-blowing..." you teased, pausing for dramatic effect before continuing. "Also, Charles, mijn liefje... how do you look so good no matter what you wear, even dressed as a banana? It’s annoying!"

The women in the room burst into laughter, their eyes flickering to Charles in agreement. He, however, simply smirked, his ego inflating slightly as his cheeks flushed pink from the attention.

"Hey, he’s taken, girls. Down, down," you joked, causing another wave of giggles and playful protests from the women.

"Why do you sound disappointed... you’re literally at his wedding... to me?" you teased. The women erupted in even more giggles, some shaking their fists playfully while others called you a "lucky girl."

Shaking your head, you smiled warmly before moving on. "Anyway, moving on, I think the moment I first felt something for Charles was actually..." You glanced over at Max. "Max... sorry... but it was when he kicked your ass out of first place and won his first race. Like, seriously, if you watch that clip back... damn. I’m just saying. That move was so hot."

Max pulled a mock offended face, but the amusement in his expression was obvious. Meanwhile, the guests couldn’t contain their giggles.

"It’s safe to say my feelings for Charles only grew from there. I started reflecting on all the moments we had together, and that’s when I realized—I'd been in love with Charles for far longer than I thought," you said with confidence, turning to Charles. "With that in mind, you can kindly zip it about loving me first, mister. I’m the original simp in this relationship."

The guests “aww’d” in response, their faces softening with fondness as they watched your love story unfold. Charles simply huffed in amusement, gazing at you with affection, as though he were falling in love with you all over again.

"Last night was the first time in five years I didn’t spend the night with Charles, and I missed him endlessly and so I found myself writing down all the little things about him that I love," you continued, your voice quivering slightly.

The room let out a chorus of “aww’s,” with the women especially swooning. Charles’s gaze softened as he listened to you, clearly moved.

Blocking everyone's view with your hand, you reached into your dress and pulled out a piece of paper, your cheeks tinged with a slight blush. "Your girl doesn’t have pockets," you joked, earning laughter from the guests.

The women nodded in understanding, while Charles’s gaze lingered for a moment longer than he likely intended, much to Max’s disdain.

"Charles, I wasn't ever going to show you this, but you had to go and get sappy in your vows, making me cry. So now, I’m going to read this list to make you feel the same and let you know just how much I love you and all the little things you do for me," you said.

The room grew quiet in anticipation. Some of the older ladies pulled out tissues, while Charles sat with a soft, curious smile, waiting to hear your list.

"The first thing on my list is your eyes," you began. "Your eyes show me how much you love me, and they look at me the way I’ve always wanted to be looked at. They see me for me. Over the years, you’ve looked at me with nothing but sincerity, love, kindness, and loyalty. I love your eyes because they show your passion, your frustration, your happiness... and even when you’re tired. You have the sweetest eyes, and I hope to continue seeing that love in them for the rest of our lives."

A wave of “aww’s” filled the room as guests wiped away tears, and Pascale sniffled quietly at your words. Charles, his eyes glistening with emotion, couldn’t take his gaze off you.

"Number two is your determination," you continued. "I've never known a person more determined than you. I’ve seen it in the way you push to make me smile after a long day and in how you chased your dream of winning your home race in Monaco. And, of course, in how you pursued me. It took two years of chasing, but I’m glad you kept at it."

Charles chuckled softly, recalling how persistent he had been in winning your heart.

"Number three is your kindness," you said. "You’ve never failed to show how kindness is free. The way you treat your family, the way you treat the tifosi, and especially the way you treat me. You’ve never once strayed from me, and you’ve always been gentle and loving. You're the kindest person I’ve ever met."

Tears filled Charles’s eyes, but he was far from done hearing what you had to say.

"Number four... you're fun, quirky, and you always know how to make me laugh. You've never once made a dull moment in my life."

Charles chuckled, wiping away his tears, clearly grateful for how you loved him, quirks and all.

"Number five... you accept me for who I am, even if I'm a 'nibbler'... or as you like to call me, ‘Chomper.’"

Laughter echoed through the room at the inside joke, with Charles grinning fondly at the memory of your playful little quirk.

"And finally, I know that when the time is right, you’ll be an amazing father," you finished, your eyes glistening with love.

Charles smiled warmly, the thought of becoming a father bringing joy to his heart. Max’s voice broke through the quiet moment. "He better not become one too soon. I’m too young to be an uncle!" he teased, making the room burst into laughter.

"No promises! I mean have you seen him" you retorted with a wink.

"Overall," you said, your voice trembling with emotion, "what I’m trying to say, mijn zonneschijn, is that I love you. I have for the longest time, and I always will. I loved you yesterday, I love you today, and I’ll love you tomorrow. In every lifetime we share." You paused, wiping away a few tears. "And when we become parents, and you’re stuck by my side in the hospital, holding my hand while I curse your name and swear I’ll never let you touch me again... just know I’ll still love you."

You stopped for a moment, tears welling up. You took a deep breath, still trembling from the emotions rushing through you. "My heart has called your name for the longest time, and now it’s found its home next to yours. I love you so much that it hurts to breathe when you’re not near me. Thank you for allowing me to be your wife. I love you, mijn voor altijd."

The silence that followed your words was thick with emotion, the room filled with the raw, unspoken love between you and Charles. His eyes glistened as he stood and walked toward you, pulling you into his arms.

"I love you too," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Always, ma chérie. And I promise to love you through every moment, no matter what comes next."

You melted into his embrace, the weight of the moment overwhelming, tears flowing freely as you knew this was only the beginning of forever. Max’s quiet acceptance of your relationship with Charles was always in the back of your mind, but you knew that this was the right path for you, and nothing could change that.

"Thank you for being my forever, Charles," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I can’t imagine a life without you."

Charles pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "You’ll never have to," he murmured. "Not in this lifetime or any other."

And in that moment, with the world standing still around you, you both knew—this was the beginning of a love that would last through time, through every joy and hardship, and it was yours. Forever.

[namelessgakusei]

EP 3.1 This is how you shoot

Devil May Cry x Reader Insert

Warnings: It's DMC. Based on the New Netflix Series. Spoiler warnings for the actual show. Not proofread. Slightly canon divergent. (Y/N) Lore. Posted out of spite?

Note: This was on my drafts but like lmao it got accidentally posted.

EP 2.3 Amen. (prev.)

EP 3.2 Take Aim (cont.)

Synopsis: Your capture made you dream about a past long gone.

The front sight of a Glock aligns perfectly with the target, a few feet away from a child no less than five as they barely wrap their hands around the gun's grip. "That's right, baby. Keep that little tip of the triangle aligned to the mark. If you do, you'll land the shot." An older man gently says as he supports your form, correcting your stance and giving tips on how to have a better grip.

"Bang." You muttered when you pulled the trigger, the gun clicking into place as it releases no bullets, but it didn't deter you from "shooting". Your determination for a five year old pleases your father, with your face scrunched up in an exaggerated frown, he smiled as he ruffled your hair and brought you up in his arms. "That's right. That's right. You would make a fine soldier, yeah?"

"Are you teaching them how to handle a gun, again?" Your mother sighs by the doorway, arms crossed as she raises a brow at the sight. "They won't learn anything if they can't experience the real thing. They should know about the drawback when it comes to shooting a gun."

"They're only five." Your father protests as you keep your attention on your mom, who had gone over to pick up the empty gun you used for practice. "This is too heavy for them, I bet they can't even lift this properly on one hand." She frowns as she examines the weapon, weighing it on her hand, cocking it before aiming at the target in a swift motion. Like what happened to you, the gun clicks itself due to the lack of ammo.

"I'm going to build their strength, of course!" Your father laughed heartily and grabbed your mother's waist in one hand while he carried you on the other. "Then they'll join the army, get promoted, and soon join my squad!"

"You mean DARKCOM?" You asked, tilting your head to the side, lacking excitement that your father wanted to see in his children whenever he gives them the push to join the army.

"Of course, baby." He grins and leaned his head over yours. "We'll eradicate this world of demons, you and I."

"They can't even finish their food." Your brother snickers from the inside of the house, face smug as he teases you. "How can you expect them to survive in the army, Dad?"

Your family laughed as you struggled against your father's grip, knowing that you'll chase your brother in retaliation once you break free.

"Listen 'kay? Mum doesn't have to know about this, okay?"

"Okay."

"You won't tell? Promise?"

"Promise." You nodded with excitement, barely six years old as you trail behind your older brother and his friends. You noticed him sneaking out at night in the past few weeks and insisted on coming with you when you finally caught up. He seems to think that you'll tattle to your parents but you're not a snitch! Besides, you've never snuck out like this! So you agreed, nonetheless.

You don't know where they're going, but you have a rough idea of what they're doing, having seen "clues" inside your brother's drawers. Bullets. But not the usual calibers, no, there's a vial of something green inside.

You tugged at your brother's hand as he held yours to keep you two from being separated. "Where are we going?" But he only grinned, telling you that this is just like the training your father gives the both of you. "Shooting?"

"But better, we'll be shooting real targets." His friends all donned a kind of smile that looked a bit too smug. You can't quite pinpoint why this feels wrong all of the sudden, maybe you should've told your parents about this before. But looking back, you can't exactly go back on your own, as you've been going through dark alleys and corners. Just where are you headed that permits going to an abandoned warehouse?

"There's our guy!" A man laughs upon seeing your group, greeting them with a handshake and a hug. There are a few older men around the area, each in possession of rifles or guns, before landing their eyes on you. "Is this the young master?" One of them crouched down to your eye level and grinned, trying to coax you out from hiding behind your brother.

"They insisted on coming." Your sibling laughs and pats your head, telling you that it's alright to meet the others. At his words, the men around nodded and smiled at each other, noting that it's better for them to start early so they get used to it soon. At that time, you had no idea what they were about to let you join in, but with how you are right now. You deeply regret asking to come.

Inside the warehouse are cages that contain a few green humanoid creatures, with tiny horns that protrude on their heads. The older, bigger ones, grimaced at your appearance, speaking in something you fail to understand, but they look more concerned than afraid. Their fear returned moments later when one of the men kicked their cage, rattling the demons inside. Your brother hands you a strange looking gun, a bit blocky compared to the usual firearms that your father makes you practice with, before helping you aim at a demon that they let out.

That demon was about your size, they looked at you with wide eyes, arms raised in surrender while pleading to you in a foreign language. It looks weak, hunger-stricken based on the dip on their body and the obvious marks that littered around their skin. One of the men with you kicked them down when they reached out to you, sensing your reluctance to hurt them, but they weren't the only ones who noticed. The people around you kept talking about how demons are the pests of the world, of how they are nothing more than insects meant to be crushed down, and that you shouldn't hesitate in killing them.

"Kill it!"

"Shoot it. (Y/N)!"

"Shoot!"

You woke up with a jolt, before immediately squinting your eyes due to the sudden brightness above, although something seemed to have blocked it the moment you closed your eyes. Your neck aches a bit due to how stiff your "pillow" is, making you groan and turn your head, but something keeps bugging you.

Why the hell do you smell Dante?

It's not even a whiff, you genuinely smell the guy like he's smushing you close to his chest whenever he needs to protect you. While it's comforting at times, it starts to reek. Not only that, you can't move your legs nor your arms, are you bound? With an exhale, you open your eyes.

And there he is, looking down at you with an uncharacteristic serious face, and speaking with a gruff tone. "Hey you, you’re finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right?"

"You walked right into that imperial ambus-"

"Are you seriously quoting Skyrim right now?" You squinted with a frown, making him shrug. Groaning, you squirmed as you recalled the events of last night. Right, you got caught. Damn it, this wasn't how you planned this out! ...It's alright, you can flip this out to your favor later. You tried sitting up but failed after a few attempts, the sleeping gas might still be in your system, and Dante's thighs weren't much of a cushion for your fall.

"No wonder the pillow was hard." You sighed with a deadpan tone, missing the glint on Dante's eyes upon your words.

"You know what else is hard?"

You never sat up so fast in your life, accidentally giving Dante a headbutt, granted, that wasn't your intention, but hey, at least you got to sit up!

taglist!: @mischiefmanaged71 @tamashithe2nd @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @96jnie @flwerie @deathrye

[moviecritc]

Hello! Can I please request a smau with Charles Leclerc and Alexandra with the reader. Like her getting hate online because people think she coming in between them but then they found out that she and Alex were already dating before even they met Charles and he's the one who came into their relationship also could you please make it fluff at the end, thank you <3

✦ ˚ : · YOU WONDER WHY I'M BITTER ⋆ ALEXANDRA SAINT MLEUX, CHARLES LECLERC 🦢

pairing ☆ charles leclerc x singer! reader x alexandra saint mleux

summary ☆ you and alex broke up because she suggested charles to join your relationship, and you're really mad about it

warnings ☆ hate comments (mostly for alex, but it's just for the plot), mixed smau, arguments

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

masterlist | letterboxd

yourusername just posted!

liked by sabrinacarpenter, alexandrasaintmleux and 34,612 others

yourusername MY NEW SONG IS HEREE !!!!!!!1!!!!!1!!!!! Stream Good Luck, Babe! so i can pay my hairdresser and make up artist THANK YOUU 🐽💥🌈💍

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user1 she's turning into my comfort artist guys

user2 y/n l/n for president 2024

user3 alex in the likes is LOUD

user4 and she's even early wtf girl user5 i'm new someone explain the lore user6 @/alexandrasaintmleux was y/n's gf for like four years, they were high school sweethearts and y/n wrote many songs about her. but four months ago they broke up and alexandra is now dating some formula 1 driver. literally four months later. some people say that she cheated, others that it was friendly, but idk user7 i mean after this song...

user8 ALEXANDRA WHEN I FOUND YOU

user9 'and you're NOTHING MORE THAN HIS WIFE' alexandra you're cooked

user10 FRRR she at least was something when she dated y/n. now she's just another f1 wag

user11 HOW I LOVE MESSY SONGS

user12 WE'RE SO BACK

user13 alexandra should be ashamed of walking in public after this

user14 sis casually making a diss track

f1gossip just posted!

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f1gossip Charles Leclerc and Alexandra Saint Mleux out for dinner in Monaco

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user14 girl wtf

user15 they did her so dirty i love it

user16 the difference when she was out with y/n is LOUD

user17 yk i'm starting to think that charles is the problem user18 righ? alex was so comfortable with flashes around y/n and now this? wtf is this man doing user19 i think it was just a bad moment user20 maybe she didn't want to be seen after y/n's song user21 i hate men

user22 NOT Y/N LIKING THIS

user23 she KNOWS it's alex loss

user24 charles your gf is cleary uncomfortable why tf you're smiling

user25 he's probably happy about all the drama bc he's life is boring

user26 this is a pr relationship at a 100%

yourusername just posted a story!

[caption: 10K streams just in the first week OMGGG, thank you thank you thank you. I love you so much guys, thank you for feeding my delusional ass 💥💥]

replies

user27 pop people princess

user28 WE LOVE YOU Y/NNN

user29 please PLEASE come to spain

user30 drop the tour dates nowww

alexandrasaintmleux Can we talk, please? In person, I know that you are in Paris this weekend

Y/N had left Alexandra on read. She hadn't wanted to know anything about her since the proposal to become a throuple with that guy Leclerc, but even though she thought she hated the idea, she found herself looking at the photos Charles posted on his Instagram. He was objectively handsome, she wouldn't lie. Although the fact that he had taken her girlfriend did make him seem like the most horrible person she had ever met. But he was handsome.

Most of his photos were related to his job as a Ferrari driver. She had heard Alex talk about that sport hundreds of times; she should have guessed that she felt somewhat attracted to the most handsome driver on the grid. But there was one photo that really caught her attention; him, in his apartment, shirtless on his stationary bike. She couldn't stop looking at it, she even went into the comments to see what people thought, to make sure it wasn't weird to find him extremely attractive. Then, unintentionally, she liked it. She saw the red heart float on the screen and knew that was her end, she removed the like immediately, praying that no gossip page decided to be watching that post at the same time as her.

But it was already screwed, he was going to see her notification, he was going to tell Alex, and now they would have more reasons to meet. Everything was screwed.

A few minutes later, she received a message from Charles, which left her totally bewildered, but she opened it immediately anyway.

user34 not the censurated name-

user35 makes a lot of sense to me actually

yourusername just posted!

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yourusername Monaco you were LOUUUD !!!! The best city to open the leg of the tour and we had a blast together. Omw to Paris 💋🎸💐

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user31 she's so normal after exposing everything and everyone just in the first date

laufey princess of the princesses liked by author

user32 she's crazy for what she said

user33 now i want a public apology from alexandra and charles

user34 FR i can't believe they made her fell so bad

user35 yk break ups happen, it's not something bad. instead of spreading hate you should just move on girl, it's embarrasing

user36 oh shut up, she's a singer, she does drag. she's going to be dramatic user37 and we're here for it

user38 it has to be marketing bc last night was wild

user39 pretty sure it wasn't

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f1gossip Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend recently in Bali

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user40 they went the further they could bc of y/n's concert

user41 you can't convince me they're not pr

user42 0 chemistry

user43 i always see alex with her phone with charles

user44 she must be bored of him

user45 i don't think they even talk to each other

user46 i hate them so much

user47 these y/n's fans are taking f1 and i'm here for it

yourusername just posted on her story!

[caption: favs ✨]

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user48 aren't those alex's favourites?

alexandrasaintmleux beautiful pic 💞

[TRANSCRIPTION OF THE CALL BETWEEN ALEXANDRA AND Y/N]

Alex: Hiii. Y/N, listen to me. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I fucked up in every possible way

Y/N: Yeah, you did

Alex: But I love you. You have no idea how much love I have for you, mon chéri. So much that I thought I had to share it with someone else. But I was wrong, so wrong

Y/N: Alex, you're so drunk. You're not thinking clearly

Alex: Listen to me. For once in your life, listen. I fucked up pretty much everything, and you have no idea how much I regret it. I- What are you d-?

[background noises, you hear Alex complain]

Charles: Y/N?

Y/N: Charles? Give the phone back to Alex, for the love of god.

Charles: Y/N, hear me out. Leave my girlfriend the fuck alone. You know I found you really hot at the beginning but you have to stop this shit. I have a fucking reputation out here.

Y/N: Give her phone back, dickhead.

Charles: Move on, bitch. She doesn't want you anymore, and me neither.

part 2

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝘚𝘏𝘈𝘛𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘌𝘋 𝘈𝘍𝘍𝘌𝘊𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚 - 𝘗𝘈𝘙𝘛 𝘛𝘏𝘙𝘌𝘌

♥ Pairing: Mohawk!Mark Grayson x Reader | Sinister!Mark Grayson x Reader ♥ Warnings: Violence & Gore ♥ a/n: even though i put him in the pairings sinister mark doesn’t actually show up this chapter. if y’all haven’t noticed i’m pretty big on building lore so one scene can take a lot of time lolll. i think it adds to the depth of the story 🤌 → Part Two ←

It was a truly beautiful day; the sun’s rays unbroken by the clouds while a gentle breeze rustled through the leaves. Its serenity, however, was lost on M.Mark. A deep red liquid spattered across his face as the smell of sweat, blood, and fear permeated the alleyway he stood in. He could hear the sickening sound of bones cracking beneath his fists, but all that mattered was the rage—the fire burning deep in his chest. It was a fire that never truly went out, and right now it was fueled entirely by a raw jealousy.

“You really think you’re good enough for her, huh?” Mark’s voice was low, venomous, his words directed at no one in particular. His eyes were wild, pupils dilated with fury. He grabbed one of the men by the throat, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. The guy's feet dangled, his hands flailing helplessly as Mark’s fingers dug into his windpipe.

The man’s eyes bulged in terror, but Mark barely registered it. He was thinking of you. You—smiling at that asshole, holding his hand, like you didn’t even notice the real love of your life existed at all. Like that Mark was the most important thing in the world.

“I protect people now, you know?” Mark spat, his voice tinged with bitterness, his grip tightening. “I save people. And for what? So some fucking idiot can waltz around thinking he’s good enough to have her?”

The guy gasped, clawing at Mark’s hand, but it was no use. Mark wasn’t even really seeing him anymore. His eyes were focused somewhere else, somewhere far away.

In his mind’s eye he saw you again—laughing with that bastard. His absolute idiot of a counterpart, who didn’t even see you like he did. You were a goddamn star in his world, and yet you gave that moron all your time, all of your love.

“It’s so fucked up,” Mark muttered. “She doesn’t see it. She doesn’t see me the way I see her.” He turned his head, eyes narrowing at the other man huddling against the wall, still alive, still shaking. “She should be with me, y’know? Not him. Damn sure not any of you. Me.”

He shook the man in his grip, his voice rising with every word. “I would do anything to make her happy. You hear me? Anything. But you—you’re just a distraction. You’re nothing. And you’re standing in the way.”

The guy’s breath came in strangled gasps, his hands no longer fighting against Mark’s iron grip. There was nothing he could do to escape. Mark’s voice became a growl.

“I mean,” Mark started again with a scoff, “What makes him so fucking special?”

The guy’s head lolled back, the panic already setting in. Mark could feel the pulse in the guy’s neck, feel him weakening, but he didn’t stop. Not yet. Not when his mind was screaming.

And then, in a desperate, broken voice, the second man spoke, his hands still raised in a futile gesture of surrender.

“Look... man... I don’t know who you’re talking about, but it sounds like she’s not yours. You gotta... you gotta let her go.” His voice cracked as he spoke, but there was something genuine in his tone—something only a human could convey. “Trust me, y-you can’t force someone to love you… You’re just gonna make it worse.”

A light seemed to spark in Mark’s eye, a strange stillness passing through him. His grip loosened slightly, the man’s feet scraping the pavement as he hung there, suspended, but not quite dead yet. Mark’s gaze flicked to the man on the ground, and for a second, he felt a pang of doubt—like maybe... maybe the guy had a point.

“Let her go?” Mark’s voice was quieter now, almost confused. He looked down at the guy, his anger still simmering beneath the surface but momentarily calmed. “What do you mean, let her go? I’d do anything for her. I deserve her. She deservesme. That ugly bastard shouldn’t get to have her.”

The man took a shaky breath, speaking faster now, his voice almost pleading. “I-I get it. I do. But no way this is gonna work man. You’re not gonna win her over by killing people. She sounds like a sweet girl. You’re just gonna end up—”

Mark’s eyes flashed with a new swelling rage and without warning he slammed the man into the wall, the sickening crack of the guy’s spine breaking echoing through the alley. The man's body went limp, falling into a grotesque, twisted heap at Mark’s feet.

Mark stood over him, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling not from exertion but pure emotion. For a moment, silence swallowed everything. The only sound left was the steady beat of his own heart.

The anger was still there. It hadn’t gone away. It was a beast, gnawing at the edges of his mind. But now there was something else too, something that felt... desperate. Something sharp, like a knife lodged deep in his gut.

Mark glanced down at the bodies around him. His fists were still clenched, his body tense with the aftershocks of the destruction. He should feel powerful—he should feel triumphant—but all he could hear were those words.

Let her go. Was there even possible? Could Mark really just let you go?

He looked back at the man he’d just killed, and then over to the other man who was now cowering in the fetal position in the corner. The sight made him grunt a small laugh. As if this weak loser knows anything. The fire inside him flared again. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d be letting anything go.

In an instant he was kneeled in front of the man, his head framed by Mark’s hands. “Y’know you really give terrible advice.” With that final remark he brought his hands together, breaking through the man’s skull and plunging through viscera of his brain matter as if it were made of Styrofoam. He didn’t need advice, and definitely not from some low-level career bank robber that just died like an ant beneath his grasp.

No, Mark’s wasn’t even close to done yet. He just had to figure out his next step.

—

You let out a quiet sigh, watching the last of the visitors file out of the exhibit. The small group had been attentive, but now that they were gone, you could finally breathe a little easier. Being an aquarium keeper had its perks—mostly working with the animals, which you loved—but giving talks to crowds had always been a bit… awkward.

You glanced down at your watch, noting the time. Another hour until your shift ended. You could already feel the exhaustion setting in—nothing too bad, just the kind of tired that came with a long day of making sure everything was running smoothly. The fish were fed, the tanks cleaned, and you had managed to get through your spiel without flubbing too many lines.

It was then that you noticed him.

Mark, the one who’d abruptly showed up at your house the night prior, was standing across the room just at the edge of the exhibit. He wasn't a part of the group, which was odd. But what was even stranger was how still he was, how silently he observed everything. His gaze was fixed on the tanks, on the creatures swimming lazily inside, but there was something… unsettling about the way he stood. It was like he was studying something, but not in the way someone would look at fish. His posture was tense, his jaw clenched, and his eyes—his eyes seemed distant, like he was somewhere far beyond the walls of the aquarium.

You swallowed, a knot tightening in your stomach. Something about the way he was staring made you uneasy, but it wasn’t just that. There was a familiarity in the way he stood there, like he’d done this before. Like he'd watched from the shadows before and you just hadn’t noticed.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to approach him or let him be.

This Mark had always been… different. You didn’t know him well, but there were times when his presence felt like a storm cloud, looming just above your head. His moods were unpredictable, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was always simmering beneath the surface. And though you tried not to think about it too much, you'd never been able to forget the times he'd made comments that left you uneasy, or the way his eyes would sometimes linger on you just a little too long.

Today, though… he didn’t seem to notice you standing there, just a few feet away, watching him as he observed the sea life. His expression was almost unreadable—distant, cold—but there was an edge to it, a sharpness that made you hesitate even more.

Finally, curiosity won out. You took a few steps towards him, feeling your heart beat a little faster with each one.

“Mark?” you said softly, trying to catch his attention.

His head snapped up, and for a split second, you swore you saw a flash of something—anger, maybe?—in his eyes. But it was gone so quickly that you weren’t sure if you’d imagined it.

“Hey,” he said, his voice rougher sounding than your Marks. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

You shook your head, feeling a sudden rush of nerves flood through you. “It’s okay, no interruption. Just finishing up for the day.”

You both stood there for a moment in silence, the only sound coming from the gentle hum of the aquarium filters and the occasional splash from the tanks.

You took a step closer, unsure if you should say anything more. There was something in the air—something you couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t just the fact that he was here, now, standing in front of you, but it was the way he seemed to be studying you, his gaze never fully leaving your face. It wasn’t the look of someone admiring the work you did—it was more like someone trying to figure you out, to understand something about you that he couldn’t quite grasp.

“Mark,” you started again, clearing your throat, “are you… okay?”

He didn’t answer right away, just continued staring at you. His lips pressed together in a thin line, the tension in his shoulders unmistakable.

You felt your chest tighten. Something was wrong. You could feel it. He looked almost… unhinged, in a way you didn’t want to imagine.

“I’m fine,” he said, but the words were clipped, forced. His voice sounded flat, like he was trying to convince both you and himself at the same time.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his hands were clenched at his sides, the white-knuckled grip on his fists.

“I didn’t know you liked the aquarium,” you said, trying to break the tension. The words came out more out of instinct than any real desire to make conversation. But it worked—just a little. His gaze shifted back to the tanks.

“I don’t,” he muttered, almost under his breath. “I was just… passing through.”

Passing through an aquarium? You didn’t claim to be a detective, but that answer seemed a little suspicious.

“Right,” you said, trying to smile, though it felt strained. “Well, it’s nice to see you. If you want, I can show you around before my shift ends.”

You tried to sound casual, but your heart was pounding, and you could feel the unease creeping into your voice. Something wasn’t right, and you weren’t sure if it was because of him or because of the strange feeling that had settled in your chest.

He didn’t respond at first, just looked at you with that unreadable expression. The silence stretched between you both, uncomfortable, thick with unspoken words.

Then, he shifted. His eyes flicked to the side, to the tanks, and his lips curled into a small, almost imperceptible smirk. He opened his mouth to speak but then quickly snapped it shut, the earpiece buzzing in his head, "This isn't a holiday. You've got half the content to save." His expression quickly soured, the irritation evident on his face.

“Maybe another time,” he grumbled. “I’ve got somewhere I need to be...”

And just like that, as quickly as he’d appeared, he turned and started to walk away, disappearing into the shadows of the aquarium.

You stood there for a long moment, still feeling the weight of his gaze on you, even though he was no longer there.

And for some reason, you loved the feeling it gave you. You hadn't felt seen like that by Mark in longer than you could remember, and you relished the high it gave you.

→ Part Four ←

[olderthannetfic]

As a Gen Z kid: no, someone saying "gooning" is not the same as someone saying "jacking off". Jacking off =/= being an awful person. Gooning carries the connotation of being a shit person who's terminally online at best and dehumanizes others regularly in order to turn them from people into sex objects most of the time. When people make videos on YouTube about how someone killing and raping another person was caused by "gooning addiction" or people say Lily Orchard raping her sister repeatedly as a child was caused by her gooning to Pokemon Rule 34, it should be self-evident that the connotation isn't the same as jacking off.

Also people in Gen Z who aren't onboard the "porn and masturbation will make you kill, dehumanize, rape and pedophilically lust over kids" train can and do, in fact, say jacking off, or getting off, or other phrases. That's not Ancient Forgotten Elvish Lore Words. We have those. And we use them, again, unless we're the kind of person who maintains that masturbation will lead to SA'ing, raping, and killing others.

Even the least judgmental person I've met who says gooning still thinks "gooners" aka people who masturbate are losers who need to have their clearly unaddressed mental health issues fixed so they don't need to "lower themselves" to masturbating. "I bet he's a gooner" is said of a dude you don't like to infer that he's a freak who watches anime, thinks masturbating is okay and probably thinks raping a real person is worse than an anime character getting raped in a fanfic. It's an insult. It's never an endorsement.

"B-but other generations also mentioned jacking off!" Unless you regularly discuss people being unsafe to be around children and have had people agree that jacking off means you should be kicked out of a dorm, followed by a shitfit being thrown when the gooner wasn't thrown out, it's not the same.

I'm so fucking tired of people pretending my generation is fine, actually. Do you have any idea what it's like to try to date and be Gen Z? I promise you, it's not okay or normal or fine. My last date cheerfully told me all about how she was trying to get her former best friend registered as a sex offender for looking at Rule 34 of Gardevoir. My friends had a serious debate about if that's sex offender behavior or "gooner brainrot"/"porn addiction" requiring therapy and intervention. No one ever suggested masturbation might be okay for a grown man to do, ever. Not even as a joke.

But if I say maybe this isn't healthy, people fall over themselves to say no, no, Gen Z is totally fine. You're the crazy one for suggesting "should gooners be registered as sex offenders, or have to do mandatory therapy?" isn't a totally a-okay approach to sex.

--

[assassin-artist]

okay, I'll post what I've got for Sindra now. Plus an alternate version for if she were a Viltrumite herself (: lore rambling below the cut

Calling her species 'Vottan'. They're a healer-based society of people with hollow bones, it makes them very fast but also very fragile. Big culture based around worshipping life and birth, which is why being a healer is such a high position of authority. Most Vottan become healers, but only a rare percentage of the people are born with healing magic. Sindra, having been born with the gift, was raised in something like a monastery to become a healer from a young age. They take a vow of silence when they reach adulthood, which is the same time they get their markings that deign them a full-fledged healer (the diamond on Sindra's forehead).

Their healer culture is very judgment free, i think. They believe that it's not their place to judge whether an individual 'deserves' to live or die for what they've done, only that if they are capable of healing, then they will heal. Their fragile physiology combined with their willingness to medically aid anyone who comes their way made it very easy for Viltrum to take their home planet and subjugate the people. Most healers are left to their own devices, but the rare few that are born with the gift of magic in their veins are taken to be personal Viltrumite healers on the Viltrum warships. Vottan lifespans on average are longer than humans, roughly expecting to live to ~150 years before dying of complications due to old age. However, those born with magic have a significantly increased life expectancy, expected to live somewhere around ~2,000 years before old age.

Taking inspiration from hummingbirds here when I say that I don't think they sleep at all - instead they go into a state of dormancy every few hours where their heart rate and metabolism is slowed significantly to conserve energy for a while.

hm.... that's all the lore for her species i've thought up at this point. Let me know if you have any questions (: Now I talk a little bit about her personal story..

I made her mainly to be a Conquest ship, because I like the idea of the big scary strong man having a fragile partner. Her people being subjugated by Viltrum was just the convenient excuse so I could say Sindra and Conquest have known each other for years before the events of Invincible even happen. I don't have a set age for her but I'm thinking at least over a century by now, so they've been buddies for around 50 years or so. Maybe. I'll do the math some other time, I'm just vibing rn. Conquest still doesn't get someone to talk to because his companion is silent, but, despite her inherent fragility and Conquest's inherent overwhelming strength, she has never been all that afraid of him. I think a species that worships life would have a more accepting view of death as well - it's to be avoided if possible, but not something you should fear and dread. Plus, I've talked before on my blog about how I don't think Conquest would actually struggle to be gentle, so I think it wouldn't be that difficult for them to become close. In fact, I dare say I think Conquest would be gentler with her than any of the other Viltrumites would be... i rotate them in my head. my silly aliens

I like the idea that she eventually finds her way to Earth before season 1 begins, but I don't really have a reason for why she left the Viltrumites just yet. Maaaaybe someone lost their cool and attacked her for whatever reason and she just flew away, never looking back? I'm not sure, I'll have to think more on that. I just like imagining her on Earth trying to learn how to get along with humans and interacting with the main cast of the show.. She really just goes where she's told to go and heals anyone she comes across, so she would be a great find for the GDA. I think she would really like Damien Darkblood (:

I think she would eventually break her vow of silence and begin speaking again, but I'm just not sure if it's while with the Viltrumites (her first words would be to Conquest for sure) or while she's on Earth...

that's all the rambling i have off the top of my head. im sure i'll have more soon enough o7

[kashverse]

kunafamily lore masterlist ☆ a good place to start reading if you want to fill in some lore gaps! this dates back to when kunamama used to be sukuna's boss. :) → can you guess who mamami is? (hint: nanami's future wife <3)

rewind time, back to the golden era when sukuna was still a corporate grunt—well, an aggressively overqualified corporate grunt with an ego problem, but a grunt nonetheless. 

and like every other grunt in the office, sukuna thrived on gossip. not that he’d ever admit it, of course. no, no, he wasn’t one of those losers huddled around the breakroom whispering about who got caught making out in the supply closet. sukuna didn’t do whispers. but casual, offhanded commentary? strategically-placed remarks that conveniently extracted information? oh, absolutely.

“what’s with all the murmuring?” he drawled as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head. he wasn’t even facing anyone in particular, but he knew they’d take the bait. they always did.

mamami, the undisputed queen of office gossip and the only person who could navigate the workplace with more dignity than the boss, raised a brow. “wouldn’t you like to know?” she mused, sipping her coffee.

“if i wanted to, i’d ask,” sukuna countered, feigning indifference as he casually scrolled through his phone—nothing open, nothing reading, just scrolling to appear as if he had better things to do. “but i don’t. i just think if people have time to gossip, maybe they should be working.”

“so noble of you,” mamami deadpanned, unimpressed. one of the interns snorted. “you were literally just talking shit about accounting five minutes ago.”

“that was different,” sukuna said, snapping his fingers. “that was facts, not gossip. there’s a difference.” mamami rolled her eyes but smirked. “if you must know, we were talking about types.”

“types?” sukuna echoed, still feigning disinterest, though he was listening very, very intently. “you know, what kind of person someone’s into.” she took another sip of coffee.

then casually, almost absentmindedly, said, “like how the boss apparently has a thing for guys like you.”

now. now. sukuna had heard many things in his life. many things that had tested the very fabric of his self-restraint. but this—this was something else entirely.

his brain short-circuited. his mouth opened, then shut, then opened again, before he settled on a reaction that he hoped would appear completely normal.

“ha. ha. ha.”

it did not.

mamami gave him a look. “you okay?”

“me? yeah. totally. normal day, normal conversation.” he waved a dismissive hand, like this was of no importance whatsoever. “so. uh. did she say that herself, or is this a, you know, speculation thing?”

“oh, she said it,” she confirmed, eyes twinkling. “but you didn’t hear it from me.”

sukuna nodded, trying to school his expression into something resembling nonchalance. “right. right. obviously.”

and then, because he was a completely normal, well-adjusted man who was not absolutely losing his mind over the fact that his boss—his terrifying, brilliant, untouchable boss—might have a thing for him, he proceeded to excuse himself to the bathroom, where he proceeded to stare at himself in the mirror for five full minutes, processing.

holy. shit.

[kitty-av]

Heyo! Here's my guy! Introducing himself for day 1 of the OC parade! •^•

I'll give some backstory on my guy (both the design process and lore under the cut!

This right here? My guy? I made him because I wanted a fire/candle dude.

But that's just the beginning of his journey! Allow me to show some earlier sketches just so y'all can see just how much I enjoyed designing this man. I think I've been drawing him for at least a year, though I've rarely shown him off XD

So as you can see by all these sketches, figuring out his colours actually felt really difficult, while his general silhouette got very few changes (a more unique face, he gained an arm, ect.) And I'm honestly really happy with how he currently is, even if he is very bright.

In fact he is so bright that I forgot to check my values when I drew him at 2 AM, and had to mess around in my phone to make the contrast a bit better XD

Using a saturation filter to check the values even after you've finished a piece is actually really useful (just a tip) •^•

Anyway, design history of my guy aside, Ignis had a finished design for maybe a few months (colour aside) but what he didn't have... Was lore.

Yes. For the longest time, to be he was just 'sneaky, conniving meow meow fire man' and I didn't even have a name for him - I just wanted to design a fire man but had no lore attached to him.

But since the DP OC parade? Oh lord, does he have lore. ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Basically, Ignis was created when the library of Alexandria was burnt down. He's not entirely sure himself if he manifested as the collective emotions surrounding the event, if he was some unfortunate guy who died there, or if he is the library himself, but when he came to, all he could remember was that one event.

Over the years, he's dedicated himself to preserving information, books, scrolls, paperwork, anything important. His enthusiasm and reliability netted him a spot in the ghost king's court as an advisor, a few rulers before Pariah.

Once Pariah took the throne, Ignis decided that he did not support anything this man did, and 'accidentally' started making poor strategies for him. And leaking a few good ones to the ghost zone resistant groups.

Once this was found out, he was promptly fired, but not before Pariah reimbursed him for his betrayal - an eye for an eye so to speak. And also an arm. He was also forced into hiding, because he was to be hunted down for treason, but he escaped.

Eventually, The ghost king's wife, Hera (might provide a pic of a sketch of her later if asked) decided to divorce Pariah. She didn't do it for the longest time because she was trying to pull legal authority and mitigate damage, but she realised that there's not much more she could do, so she straight up left to openly plan with his enemies.

Unfortunately, her role in the resistance and all the plans and insights she gave proved her a capable leader, and there was one faction that didn't want anybody to be ruling the ghost zone once Pariah fell - The Observants council.

This is relevant because while Ignis was on the run, they did their best to erase all records of all insider dissent in the court, and only give very general statements of fact about people like Ignis and Hera leaving, thus painting them as cowards at best.

Ignis was understandably quite pissed, because he knew that what they were doing is manipulating the people into essentially letting the Council rule. Even if he was technically a free ghost after the ancients sealed Pariah, the Observants basically began another reign of terror based on misinformation and censorship.

Ignis absolutely despises people in power wielding it for terrible purposes, and especially by obstructing information that to him should be available for the people to know and form conclusions off of.

Fortunately his former queen found him and she took him back to her lair with the rest of the surviving court dissenters.

And there, the group plans to if not dismantle the council, then reform it to be an actually functional governing organ with less corruption.

----

Sooo... Yeah! That's my blorbo!

Thank you all for reading through this post •^• I hope people get inspired by this event to make their own OCs, especially other artists. Because really, the last thing my guy got was his lore. So experiment! Create! Make blorbos! ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

And if you found my guy inspiring enough to draw or write about for Sunday, I'm cool with mild gore and some psychological horror stuff, but nothing too heavy. Like, no copious amounts of ecto, no exposed insides or stuff like that. If you want to give him a mild splatter and focus on his waxed over missing eye and arm, that's chill, just keep it mild.

Honestly though, once again, I'm just glad you made it to the end, whoever you are. I would love any thoughts or feedback on my blorbo/ my guy/ my man (interchangable at this point) if y'all have any •^•

[evilminji]

Hey Minji! A thought for your Star Wars things!

Who ever said the SI-OC was the only one to get dumped in SW? Just. A Creche that has several Reincarnations/Transmigrants.

Oh? My god? Just... the FIRST thing that popped into my head? Was the image of one of those "we are so Unbelievably Overworked We No Longer Fear You Nor Death" Sort of office workers/team of workers(nonspecific)?

Just... fuckin EVERYBODY knows Star Wars. Not everybody focused on the same PART of it, but the DO know it. So OBVIOUSLY? The Force decided it should bring in an A Team.

It Did Not ASK the A Team.

They are... like? 4. And sitting in a soft foam, brightly colored Creche, in their lil Jedi rompers, all sitting in a circle, looking at each other like... ( -_-) (-_- ) you too, huh?

Yeeeeeep. (God does Jerry want a cigarette. Jerry gave them up in his 20s. But he's KINDA GOING THROUGH IT, okay?!) (Sarah is hyperventilating in the corner. Her KIDS! Oh GOD. Her KIDS! She was on the way to pick them up from SOCCOR PRACTICE!!!)

Just? This whole ass team of "yeah, we know the LORE, but buddy, pal, we had LIVES! What the FUCK. Star Wars was a HOBBY!" Type adults? No one is happy and everyone wants to choke the metaphysical concept of The Force with their itty, bitty lil baby hands.

They may RIOT.

And like? Do to sheer NUMBERS? They make up ALMOST a full Creche?

Almost.

There is like... one? Maybe two? Actual Jedi Babies™ in their group? It's A Team... plus our collective children. Whom we parent. The MOST baby of babies. Also the spokesperson when they want to fool anyone into thinking they're "normal".

I want Jerry to have a fake cigarette. He's looked up death sticks and like FUCK is he putting that shit in his body, but dear LORD are the oral fixation and mental effects of a past addiction still both real, and a pain in the ASS.

If you try and TAKE his fake ass, hand made, bespoke not-a-cigarette from his itty bitty lil baby hands? He will take your KNEES. These FUCKERS won't even let him have COFFEE. Let him HAVE THIS. *hisses from the walls*

I want them to be ☆~Nightmare Children~☆

They have the power of The Force, various past life skills, an uninterrupted access to the galaxy's BIGGEST LIBRARY, close proximity to FAR too many senator AND their living spaces, and? An actual negative number of fucks to give. They can take shifts. Tag team. Be creepy, horrible, terrible, God awful nightmare creatures climbing out from your WALLS.

Somehow they keep escaping.

Down through the lower temple as they examine the hidden tunnels and escape routes. Through the vents. Forcing other jedi to become VERY familiar with where those pathways are. Sure hope THAT won't someday save your lives! Ya ungrateful, "you're grounded, stop sneaking out younglings" BASTARDS! So rude!!

The camp out in the Corrie Gaurd office. Bring the babies.

Here, you seem stressed, random gaurd. Hold a Jedi Baby. They radiate sunshine and good vibes. Are literally the Anti-Old-Man-Sith. We brought caffeine and food from the temple. Are willing to follow you around like "adorable ducklings" on patrol under the excuse that we're "training" for when we get our own soilders.

Sure is INCONVENIENT for all these asshole senators to has a witness, huh?

You gaurd my back, I'll gaurd yours. And if a certain long neck trips near the stairs? You didn't see SHIT. I'm BABY. How could I POSSIBLY have the control to do that? Now excuse me... we need to practice our "we Jedi Children can stare into your SOOOOOULS, we See All Your Sins." Wide Eyed Unblinking Predator Stare.

(O.O) (O.O) (O.O)

[valentine-cafe]

˖⁺. “ boner in public ! ” : 

﹙ various monster boyfriends x gn reader ﹚.𖹭

. . . various monster boyfriends x gn reader !! 🍒 : 

you're out and about in public. only for you to look down and catch your partner in a bit of a predicament. . . a boner in public. 

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ very lowkey brat taming ˖ reader is suuuchhh a shit | wc : 1.2k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: I needed to write this for awhile and just - had so much damn fun with it 

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

﹙ Alessio 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : “This assembly meeting must be reeeaaalll interesting, huh Alessio?”

You catch his grin from the side as you shift closer to his still countenance. Standing tall with his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark jeans. As if he isn’t sporting a massive tent at his crotch.

“Oh yeah. Fuckin’ love the morning recount of -” he pauses to pay attention he hasn’t bothered. “- scheduled staff meetings. Really gets a person going.”

You have to stiffle a laugh. Even with a raging boner he’s able to toss jokes around like its nothing. Typical Alessio.

You shift closer and muse as your arm bumps into his. “You’re surprisingly calm for someone armed and ready. Happen often?”

He casts you only a side glance and this time, his brow arches to join the lazy grin. “D’you have any idea how many fucking boners you give? In a day? ‘m used to this shit by now.” Your face burns at his words and you take a small glance around to ensure no one has noticed, before your gaze returns to the culprit.

His low murmur breaks the silence. “Keep staring and I’ll take it as an offer.” At last your boyfriend turns to you. Eyes shining with the bluntness of his words. Your own widen and you bounce your gaze around quickly before clearing your throat. Considering. Then humming.

“Can’t be serious.”

“Meet me round the bathroom in five?”

The shamelessness of this man. How could you possibly say no?

꒰  mercenary ˖ inhuman ˖ immortal ˖ punkgoth character ꒱

 

﹙ Talisen 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍓 : The line for this one cup of coffee was criminally long. You weigh out the options, you’ve already waited ten minutes — and you’re almost there. But the damned lady at the front had changed her mind about elven times and over.

You’re about to spin around and tell your boyfriend that maybe you should find another spot — until it catches your peripheral. The familiar bulge that has you whipping your head over immediately to make sure you’re seeing right.

And Talisen, oh poor Talisen. He stands tall as ever. Staring ahead without so much as a peep. Pretending as though he hasn’t caught your obvious stare. As if he is sooo oblivious to dick rising for attention. Like a fucking actor.

You can’t help the shit-eating grin that spreads across your face. It’s subtle, but, you shuffle closer and mumble low enough to his ear. “Is it just me, or are you really excited for that berry tea?”

The click of his tongue sends you giggling. The reaper turns his face in the opposite direction and tightens his jaw. Damn the paleness of his face. It shines his blush like a red light.

“Do not patronize me. It. . . It can very well be a random occurrence.” His deep voice mutters, grave like the hole he’s digging for himself in retribution for his body putting him in this position.

“Maybe. . .” you muse, tilting your head with your grin dropping to a smirk. “Or maybe it was the way you were staring at my thighs earlier.”

He grunts low. Here you are, laughing your ass off at him while he’s twitching and struggling. What a cruel beloved he has found himself with.

But he must remain refined. He takes a deep breath. Schools his blushing face and leans over to your shoulder. Pale fingers find the small of your back. “If you would stop staring. This will ease in about five minutes.” He murmurs to your ear. You all but croon. Your eyes coyly shifting to the side.

“And what if I don’t wanna?”

“Then,” his fingers press up into your back. “Suppose I will have to make it your problem for the rest of the day.”

꒰  grim reaper ˖ naga ˖ poet character ꒱

 

﹙ Haitao 209. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : “Stop staring.”

You’re pulled out of your world of bewilderment and mild amusement when his dry voice fills your ear. You sway a bit to your boyfriend leaned back into the wall beside you. Arms folded as he stares through his spectacles to the briefing of the newest mission.

“Can’t help it Haii. It’s like you’re tryna poke my eye out with that.” You have to restrain the urge to reach over and flick it. However, your joke does spark a gurgled, muffled laughter from Haitao’s motionless figure. Seems Luu’leriel found it quite funny.

The reaper in turn sighs deep and shuts his eyes for but a moment as you prod at him continuously. Poking the bear was your specialty. Here he is, hard as rock. And even now you refuse to give him a moment’s reprieve.

“Oh c’mon. Don’t look so serious,” you lightly knock his elbow with yours. Your grin dimming just a tad so that you can lower your voice. “Maybe I could give you a hand?”

He gives but a roll of his eyes. His expression not breaking once. Much like ice. He only lowers his own voice in turn and speaks lowly.

“This is an extremely important briefing and you wanna miss it to give me a handjob?”

“Looks like you need it big boy. Think I saw it twitch.”

That was it. His arm snakes around your waist and yanks you closer. His cold lips find your ear and he eases into a whisper. “Your count’s on three. Four will cost you. Five, you’re not fucking walking.”

You immediately straighten up and stare forward. With but a clear of your throat. Haitao returns to his initial stance. With his dick now throbbing more than before. You won in the end.

꒰ grim reaper ˖ assassin character ꒱

 

﹙ Orion. ﹚. . . !! 🍓 : Your beloved is the height of nobility. The sheer essence of refinement. It is what you’ve adored about him since day one. His large, dark wings stick out through the sea of white feathers. As you both stand within one of the grand angel halls. Socialising before the announcements for the new age.

You cannot help but admire your love. Oh, refinement does not even begin to cover it. He is beyond graceful.

Even when he is straining a boner through his robes. Although barely visible with the layers of his black hanfu, you knew him well enough.

“My.” you muse at last. Finding a quiet moment beside him. “When you complimented my outfit, I hadn’t thought it would get to you so much.”

You receive only a side eye from the angel before he returns to his glass of wine. A small swish to the scarlet liquid before he brings his lips to the rim with a soft mumble. “You speak a lot for a guilty being. Do you enjoy ruining my image?”

You laugh and link an arm with his. Your chin craning to his shoulder. “Oh Oriiooonn, don’t blame me for your own imaginative mind huh?” With a small hum, you guide your eyes down slyly before piping ever so softly. “Who knew old men like you could still get it up?”

It is only then that you receive a scoff from him. He has to take another swig of his wine after that. “You of all people should know. You find yourself on it every night.”

You smile at his little bite. He seems unbothered for the most part — but your teasing is certainly getting to him. That much you can tell. So you bite on your lip with a smile.

“Are you growing irritable? Might I offer assistance?”

“Why not? You seem as though you are ready to get down on your knees here and now in any case.”

You swat his arm lightly and he only chuckles. You’ll have to find an empty hallways.

꒰ abyssal angel ˖ dragonic character ꒱

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[insertdisc5]

✨COOL THINGS I PLAYED/SAW/READ THIS YEAR, 2024!!!!!!!✨

✨MOVIS✨

Knight of Fortune was such a delight. karl's wife is dead-- he has to go to the morgue. to see her one last time. SURPRISINGLY funny given the theme, and incredibly sweet. AND you can watch it in its entirety on youtube

american fiction! incredible movie that made me think. what does it mean to tell "our stories"? what does it mean to show "representation"? how authentic can you truly be about your own lived experience? funny as hell too

if you havent seen Monkey Man, quite frankly i dont want to talk to you. dev patel i will watch whatever you make for the rest of time

the rest under the cut because this list got long

playtime by jacques tati. just slapstick. oh my god this was so goddamn funny

yeah you know it. i was very strong the whole time and then the credits hit and i started sobbing uncontrollably in the theater

challengers and i saw the tv glow are tied in first place for my favorite movie this year. incredibly funny and SO WELL EDITED. highly recommend watching it with friends so you can scream "OH NO HE DIDN'T" together

✨TV SHOWS✨

SHOGUN!!!!!! oh my god there is so much to praise in this show. the costumes! the actors! the story! how they integrated both english and japanese speakers in a realistic way! so good

korean reality shows are not fucking playing around. the editing and sets are truly top notch

✨BUUKS✨

-Friday Black by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah! what if black mirror was actually good. AND centered the stories of black people. highly recommend

-Character Limit: How Elon Musk Destroyed Twitter by Kate Conger and Ryan Mac! you probably were on twitter when The Whole Thing happened. maybe you dont know the exact details like i do. what if the details were worse i also dont read non-fiction very often, surprised at how fun this was to read!

-The Chromatic Fantasy by H.A.! I've been following their work since forever, and this was a delight to read as always! THE COLORS…………. BITES BITES BITES BITES

-sad girl space lizard. hell yeah (18+ only!)

-Gritli - The Moth Diaries by Sophie Florian und Hanako Emden! this one was just so strange and fascinating. per words of the authors: "Taking on the voices of anthropomorphic animals, the authors write about labour, companionship and crushing."

✨VIDY GAMES✨

skipping balatro, splatoon side order, fields of mistria and webfishing, because you probably know about those. uuuuh

i am too stupid for Void Stranger, but My God if you're smart this game will become your favorite game ever. 2D sokoban with so many secrets

marchen line!!! nth circle never misses. the visuals here are so fun!!! the UI! the plot! the almost-automatic-censoring when you see gore, as if your mecha body took a second to load!! hell fucking yeah

"adrienne, of the devil was this year" OH WORD? THEN EVERYONE SHOULD PLAY OF THE DEVIL'S FIRST EPISODE WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR

life after magic! magical girls are now adults, and magic is disappearing. what now? the art is so cute, and the story was very engaging. thank you for the additional episode with [spoilers]

i started nine sols and i think i might be enough of a gamer to beat it

shadow generations game of the year no contest. thank you for your time

you can also look at my massive list of stuff i played/watched/etc here. i am not posting this whole dang thing