#okay now I need to figure out how to make looking for tags easier on here…

[yaoiri]

I just found out how to do the below cut thing… I’m fucking stupid… I always thought it was some invisible tumblr border help me 😭

[mikkies]

「 DEAR SWEET CHILD, NO NEED TO CRY, I WILL HOLD YOU TIGHT. 」

Various! Forsaken! x GN! Child! Reader

warnings: Mentions of death

notes: anyways platonic (as if it wasn't obvious enough), I'm just using x reader tag since.. there's no platonic version of x reader 😿

➷ — Guest 1337

Fluff: Guest 1337 takes on a full parental role, always ensuring you're safe and happy. He teaches you survival tricks, like how to spot the best hiding places or distract killers, though he keeps it lighthearted. He’s quick to scoop you up when danger is near, carrying you to safety with a protective arm around you.

“Don’t wander too far, kiddo. You’re my responsibility now.”

Angst: Every time you gets into danger, Guest is haunted by the memory of his own child. He’s fiercely protective—watching you fall never gets easier for Guest. Each time, he stiffens, forcing himself to look away. He often wonders how many more times he’ll have to witness it. Though he puts on a brave face, there are moments when he whispers,

“I’m sorry, kiddo. I’ll do better next time.”

➷ — Elliot

Fluff: Elliot is the “fun uncle” figure, always sneaking the you extra pizza slices and teaching you silly tricks. He often tries to make you laugh, doing little impressions or balancing pizzas on his head. He genuinely enjoys your company, even if he pretends not to care.

“Alright, you can have one more slice, but only if you say ‘Uncle Elliot is the best!’”

Angst: Though he tries to act unfazed, Elliot can’t hide his discomfort when the you are hurt or “killed” in a round. Even though yoy always respawn back, the sight of your small, lifeless form makes his jokes falter. When the round ends, he’ll say something like,

“You're a tough kid, huh? But… maybe stay closer next time, alright?”

➷ — Taph

Fluff: Taph’s antics amuse you endlessly. He often mimics your movements or pretends to be startled by your “attacks.” He lets you “chase” his feathers and playfully flutters his wings to create gusts of air for your amusement. He often lingers nearby, keeping a watchful eye.

"✨🎁🫵" (Look! For you!)

Angst: Taph becomes visibly distraught when you're is hurt, his wings flaring out protectively as he shields you with his body. Even after the round ends, he sticks unusually close, as if afraid you might die again.

"🫵💪👤‼️🤷‍♂️💪‼️" (You're strong! Don't lose that strength!)

➷ — 007n7

Fluff: 007n7 sees the you as a chance for redemption, treating you with endless kindness and patience. He lets you ride on his shoulders, telling you stories of his past adventures while trying to filter out the darker details.

“You remind me of someone I loved very much. Let’s make sure you stay safe, okay?”

Angst: Each time you fall, 007n7 is hit with guilt and regret, reliving the loss of his own child. When you respawn, he tries to mask his worry with humor, but his voice always trembles slightly as he says,

“Glad you’re back, champ. I thought I’d lost you for a second.”

➷ — Builderman

Fluff: Builderman is a steady and reliable presence, always crafting little gadgets to make you smile. He even builds you small toys, like wind-up robots or puzzles, to keep your spirits up during tense times.

“There you go, little one. Something to keep you busy while we plan.”

Angst: Though he knows you will respawn, Builderman feels a deep sense of failure every time you're hurt. He works tirelessly to improve his contraptions, muttering,

“Not again. Next time, I’ll make it foolproof.” Despite his efforts, he can’t shake the feeling that he’s always one step behind.

➷ — Noob:

Fluff: Noob becomes fiercely protective of you when you're in danger, even though they’re a scaredy-cat. They’ll clumsily throw themselves into action if it means keeping you safe, muttering, “I can’t let you get hurt—just, uh, stay behind me, okay?” If they have a Bloxy Cola, they’ll hand it to you without hesitation.

“Here! You need this more than me. Go fast and don’t look back!”

Angst: When you're either hurt or "killed," Noob blames themselves for not being braver. They linger near the spot you died, apologizing softly before leaving in case the killer comes back.

“I should’ve been faster, or—or smarter. I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

➷ — John Doe:

Fluff: John Doe occasionally teaches the child little tricks, like how to navigate his traps safely or avoid his faint trails. Though his demeanor is stoic, there’s a softness in the way he patiently explains things.

“You’re a quick learner. Keep this up, and you’ll outlast the rest of them.”

Angst: Watching the child die—even knowing they’ll respawn—brings a flicker of old, forgotten pain to John Doe’s mind. When they return, he stands nearby, silent but watchful, his corrupted arm twitching slightly as he whispers,

“Don’t make me watch that again.”

[ohlawdthevoices]

Unsent Project | Part 2

tags : Bakugou/Denki x f!reader (separately) college au, fluff n angst, hurt/comfort, smau with some written parts, bakugou is bad at feelings and a lil toxic, two endings, denki has more character depth, baku squad as student council

a.n : bit of a filler episode already ik im sorry but it is very much needed 😔

<- previous part next part ->

you reached the admin building a few minutes early and leaned against the wall, aimlessly scrolling through your phone. your mind was already spiraling. what if the walk was awkward? what were you even supposed to say? you didn’t know anything about him—he didn’t know anything about you. maybe it’d be a chance to get to know each other… maybe it’d be a chance to get to know each other or maybe it’s a total flop and-

you looked up, startled, as denki practically bounced over to you, grinning like you’d been friends for years. he waved, then came to a stop right in front of you—way too close for a first time interaction.

“uh—yeah?” you blinked. “how’d you recognize me?”

“oh,” he said, scratching the back of his head like he’d just been caught. “you just… look like someone who’d be named y/n.”

“names have vibes now?” you raised a brow, pushing off the wall to catch up as he started walking, completely unfazed.

“they totally do,” he said without missing a beat. “i like to match names to faces when i get bored in class. makes lectures more fun.”

you gave a short laugh, half surprised at how naturally the conversation was going. he didn’t seem the type to let silence settle for long. he was bright—like, human-sunbeam bright. the kind of person who strikes up conversations with strangers in line at the convenience store.

you, on the other hand, were still a little stiff. being around people who all already knew each other made your chest feel a bit tight. but denki made things feel lighter. easier.

and if the rest of the group was anything like him, maybe this day wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“there’s probably a student here who does music, maybe we could ask them instead of just playing songs off the speakers?” you suggested, glancing over at mina.

the meeting had been going on for a couple of hours now. it wasn’t exactly productive—felt more like a casual hangout than anything official—but you didn’t really mind.

what surprised you the most was how quickly you’d settled in. mina was sitting cross-legged on the couch next to sero, who was mostly scrolling through his phone. kirishima was leaned back against the armrest, and you and denki were both comfortably settled on the carpet, the table sitting infront of you.

you gave them a quick wave before slipping inside and letting the door close behind you. you hadn’t even taken a full step when it swung open again.

“wait—!” denki jogged up beside you, adjusting the strap of his beat-up messenger bag as he caught up.

“mind if i walk you to your dorm? we’re in the same building, so…” his voice trailed off as his eyes searched your face, checking for any sign that you weren’t okay with it.

you shook your head right away, offering a small smile. that was all he needed—his expression relaxed instantly, and he returned the smile, just a little brighter.

the walk to your dorm was pretty quiet, perhaps it was the warm summer night that made it feel light, or maybe it was his airy presence. either way you found yourself enjoying the atmosphere. there wasn’t much said, but it didn’t feel awkward—just… easy. comfortable in a way you hadn’t expected from someone you barely knew. the kind of silence that felt chosen, not forced. every so often, your arms would brush, and neither of you pulled away. it wasn’t loud, it wasn’t dramatic, but something about it felt… right.

you kept sneaking glances at him, trying to figure him out, wondering if he felt it too—that calm stillness that somehow made your chest feel full. maybe it was the way his hands stayed tucked into his pockets, shoulders just slightly slouched, like he didn’t want to seem too eager. or maybe it was how he looked up at the sky once and smiled at something probably only he understood.

when the building came into view, you slowed your steps without meaning to. the familiar steps reminding you that the day was over. and suddenly, you didn’t really want it to. not yet. there was something about walking next to him that made everything feel a little softer. a little lighter. you paused at the top of the steps, fingers brushing the strap of your bag, heart hesitating where your feet stopped. you didn’t know what you wanted him to say—but part of you wished he’d say something just to keep you standing there a little longer.

he rocked back on his heels a little, eyes flicking from you to the ground and back again. he didn’t look like he was in a rush to leave either, but neither of you moved. the silence stretched, not heavy, just uncertain. he scratched the back of his neck, that familiar nervous gesture you’d seen earlier in the evening, and let out a soft breath that could’ve been a laugh.

“well… guess that’s your place,” he said, voice low, almost careful, like he didn’t want to break the calm either. you nodded, lips pulling into a small smile. “yup it is.” there was something different in him now—something quieter. he wasn’t as loud, not as bright. the spark was still there, but dimmed just a little, like he was treading more carefully. you wondered if he felt the shift too. the soft change in energy. like somewhere between the noise of earlier and the stillness of now, the air between you had taken on a weight it didn’t have before.

maybe he was unsure what to do with it. maybe you were, too.

you didn’t know what you were waiting for—an excuse to linger, a reason to drag this moment out. maybe he was thinking the same thing, because he didn’t step away. just stood there, close enough that you almost felt his warmth.

“thanks for walking me,” you added, softer this time. not because it needed to be whispered, but because anything louder might’ve shattered the quiet.

he looked at you then, really looked, and there was something almost thoughtful in his eyes. “anytime,” he said, and you wondered if he meant it the way it sounded—like he actually would. like this wasn’t just him being nice.

you gave a small nod, turned halfway toward the door, then paused again. “goodnight, denki.”

“night,” he said, and waited until you were inside before turning to leave.

and even with the door closed behind you, you swore you could still feel that shift lingering—subtle, but there. like something had settled between you, and neither of you quite knew what to call it yet, something so quiet and small that you couldn’t even figure out what it was.

-> comment on the masterlist to be added to the taglist !

taglist : @losingmymindforsoobin @harryzcherry @starrmage @cl3xr @taodarlington @xoxogospgirl @ilovemushroomss @zolpilexy @kalulakunundrum @chthonic-tamaki @drunkalex @gyomeisprayerbeadz @dahhliaa

[revelboo]

A few things of note:

I am so glad I started following you early on. Trying to catch up on your multitudinous masterpieces separately while they're all intertwined and you making multiple updates DAILY would be a nightmare to parse out.

I don't think anyone or anything has gotten me to so regularly leave comments--lengthy or otherwise--in the tags before, not has anyone ever inspired me to send in as many asks as I've sent you.

Girl what fucking time zone are you posting from? Because your first update of the day usually comes in at 5-6 in the damn morning here and I refuse to believe you are bored at work before the ass crack of dawn.

Have a nice day, I love literally everything you've written here.

Yeah, I feel a bit for folks following me later on and trying to catch up since fics will cross reference each other or events. I love reading the stuff you and everyone else leave in the comments and tags! I’m in the Central Standard time zone. And I try to get at least one posted before work in case it’s busy and I can’t type at work 😅 18+ 🌶️

Hum Along

First Aid x Reader

• This was supposed to be his first real station as a medic, a way to prove himself. To help. Delphi. After the first week, the first day, the excitement had tarnished. Because this is a punishment. No matter how fast they work, how good he, Pharma, and Ambulon are, the incoming wounded just keep dying. Too far gone already when they reach Delphi. Doesn’t even know where he’s going as he wanders the halls, servos shaking and stained with energon and audials still ringing from the screaming. Ambulon had said it gets easier, but he’s not sure that he wants it to. Shouldn’t it feel like a blade driving into his spark chamber every time he loses a patient? Shouldn’t it hurt?

• Not sure if you’re screaming or if it’s just in your head, you stagger and fall against a wall. It feels like needles sinking into you, pulling and biting deeper. Like being torn apart and you double over, retching. And when your head lifts, you try to figure out where you are. Hadn’t you been in your office sitting at your desk? Not anymore. Everything is huge as you look around at the endless stretch of hallway and fear rises up through the fog of pain. Is that your heart racing or the heavy sound of footsteps? Are you not alone?

• Coming around the corner, he freezes hearing a sharp little screech. What is that thing? The tiny, frail organic stands on shaky legs and retreats a step. It’s so ugly, it’s almost cute. A tiny biped with an uncannily Cybertronian face and you definitely don’t belong here. How had you gotten onto the station? “Hey, it’s okay. I won’t hurt you, I’m a medic.” Easing closer, you crane your neck to stare up at him and those eyes seem intelligent as you size him up. Before screeching and running.

• You hear the monstrous robot snarl something at you as you run for your life. Have no idea what’s going on, but death by giant robot is a definite nope. And that grating, snarling sound it had made? Pure nightmare fuel. It’s not like you’re a track star though, and you can hear the monster closing in. Screaming at the top of your lungs when a huge hand closes around you and your feet leave the ground. Aware that you’re babbling terrified nonsense at it, pleading it doesn’t eat or squish you.

• Adjusting his grip when he realizes how soft you are in his hand, you stare up at him with wide eyes and chirp frantically, tiny hands pushing at his servos. Little cries quieting when he touches your soft head and tips your chin up with a servo. Still has no idea what you are or where you came from, but realizes that you need him. That you’re not too far gone to help. “Don’t worry,” he says. “You’re safe now.” And he desperately needs this. Someone needing him that he can actually save. “It’s going to be okay.” Let it be okay, because he really needs a win.

Next

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

compos mentis 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, chronic health issues, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a long court case, your mother stays attached to her lawyer, bringing even more contention into your life.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: hi!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“You don’t like it?” Andy asks as you sit silently before your plate. 

You’re dizzy and a bit nauseous. Not having your oxygen is disorienting. You keep reaching for the tank that isn’t there, adjusting the nonexistent tube beneath your nose. You’re breathless and addled as you wonder if Dr. Kemp could be wrong. What if you pass out? What if something terrible happens? 

“I’m... sorry,” you hang your head. “I’m trying but... not very hungry.” 

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t have to eat if you can’t. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he assures you as he hovers his fork above his own plate. “I’m not like her.” 

You nod as your bottom lip pokes out. Your flutter your lashes and rub your cheeks. The reminder of your mom unnerves you. She was as constant as the oxygen tank and now both are gone. 

“You okay?” He sets his fork down gently. 

You nod and gulp, tempering your breaths through your nose. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” he gets up and moves to the seat next to you. “I know this is a lot. I know that neither of us were prepared for this but I want you to know that I will do my best to be there for you.” 

You twine your fingers through each other in your lap and stare at them, “but... why?” 

“Someone should,” he says, leaning toward you. “Look, I... I’ll be honest. I blame myself for letting this go this far. I suspected during the case. There were inconsistencies but... but I had a job to do. I did it, to your detriment even. I’m the one who’s sorry. I should’ve listened to my instinct.” 

You frown, “but... my mom? You liked her, right? Aren’t you... upset?” 

He shifts and sighs. He rubs his palms together as he faces the table. He plants his elbows on the wood and hides behind his fingers. He massages his forehead as he thinks. When he drops his hands, his expression is drawn and his complexion pale. 

“Like I said, I was suspicious. I only... only stayed with your mom so I could keep an eye on you. You seemed lonely and lost. I know it’s not my place but I was concerned. And there was no one else looking after you. No one else who would care,” he sniffs and looks at you directly. You peek up and mash your hands together. “Your mom was very deliberate in keeping people away from you, wasn’t she?” 

You shrug. You never thought about it. Your mom is the one who took you to the doctors, who did everything to get you better, to make sure she got you the right treatment. Or... 

“It’s a lot. You don’t need to figure it all out right now,” he assures you. “And I don’t want you to rush yourself. Steve will be back tomorrow, he can give us more information about your condition, about what needs to be done.” 

You rock then stop yourself. You cross your arms and shrink your stature. You look at your plate. 

“It’s been a long day. I’ll pack the food up for later. How about you take a hot bath? It will help,” he suggests. 

“Um, no, I think I’ll just lay down,” you murmur. 

“You should wash up. We did a lot of running around, didn’t we?” He sits back and grips the edge of the table. “I’ll get a towel and something you can wear.” 

You stare at him and bring your hand up to your nose, wiggling them fruitlessly as there is no tube to toy with. You purse your lips in disappointment. 

“Thank you. I’m... sorry.” 

“Please, no more apologies,” he reaches and gently squeezes your arm. “Whatever you need,” he brushes up and down your sleeve, “you tell me, okay?” 

You sniffle and nod, looking at the wall as you chew your lip. You feel more lost than ever. Without the air, without your mother. It might not have been a perfect life but it was familiar. All of this is new and scary and confusing. You don’t know what’s real, what to believe. 

“Alright,” he retracts his touch and stands, “let’s get you sorted.” 

🩶

Dr. Hawe stands at Dr. Kemp’s shoulder. You watch them both, nervous as you sit on the medical bed. Andy sits to the side, his leg jiggling anxiously. You feel his nerves from where you are. Maybe you should’ve have said yes when he offered to wait outside. 

“I have to apologise. I suppose I can expect a malpractice case myself,” Hawe says. “I never meant anything but to help. She exhibited all the symptoms and I made the diagnosis with good intent.” 

“Unfortunately, these things can be very similar. There’s a lot of overlap between genuine issues and oxygen toxicity. We could still be wrong but given observation so far, it’s more likely the latter.” Kemp returns. 

You look between them, confused. 

“Miss,” Hawes steps forward, “do you need me to explain?” 

You nod. “Should I have my oxygen? Did I do bad?” 

He frowns, “no. I... I was wrong. All those other doctors were right. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’ll take some time for you to recover. Being at elevated oxygen levels for so long can have detrimental effects. It will take a bit to know if any damage has been done to your lung tissue. Unfortunately, in trying to fix a problem I thought was there, I may have made it worse.” 

“But that’s impossible. I... I...” You take deep breaths but find no hitch. You don’t understand. 

“So, it was all lies?” Andy asks. 

Kemp nods and angles toward him. “Looks like. Munchausen by proxy. Not common but most common between a parent and child.” 

“Munch-- munch--” you try to repeat it. You heard about that on that show about the girl in the wheelchair. Well, she didn’t really need it. “But... my mom...” 

Andy sits silently and presses a bent knuckle to his mouth. His face is tense with anger. The doctors share a look. 

“This is bad,” Andy drops his hand. “I’m a public prosecutor. I took this to court.” 

“And I made the diagnosis. I wrote the scripts,” Hawes says. 

“What does that mean? What’s going on?” You swing your legs. 

They all look at you. Andy sits back and Hawes lowers his head. Kemp steps forward. 

“Well, both of them could lose their licenses. That’s what. If at least, their reputations will be ruined.” He explains. “That is if anyone finds out. It could mean more legal action.” 

“Legal...? Oh, another case?” 

Andy nods and Hawes toys with his stethoscope. 

“But I... I can’t do it again.” You say. “I can’t.” 

“You don’t have to,” Kemp girds. “But it means your mom won’t face any justice. Nothing. She did this to you.” He moves closer, “do you understand that you weren’t sick but she may have made you sick?” 

You search his face as your heart races. The room shrinks around you and your vision tilts. You gulp as your mouth grows acidic. You moan and fan yourself, then wave him away as you bend over the edge. You can’t help the revolt of stomach bile that spews from you and lands on the floor. 

“No,” you brace your head and rock, gagging again, but you have nothing to come up. Your breakfast was as appetizing as dinner the night before. “No, no, no. My mom... she wouldn’t...”  

Your insides contort and your skull throbs. Your breath picks up as you continue to babble. It can’t be real. You are sick. You know you are. You missed classes, you missed prom, you missed graduation. That’s not a lie. 

You heave and shudder as you stay bent over your lap. You feel a warmth on your back as you begin to shake. Your head swirls and your skin scalds. You drone senselessly. 

“Shhh, hey, you’re alright,” the distant voice speaks to you through the rising haze. 

The colours and sounds blend together behind the wall of your tears. Your body is moving but you’re not the one controlling it. You have no power. You have nothing. 

“...get her laying down...” 

“...careful...” 

“...just to calm her. She’ll hurt herself...” 

The words fade and your eyes roll back as a tide of heat overwhelms you, flowing through your veins and rising to the surface. As the warmth fills your head, you sink down into the abyss. Your anguish follows you, gnawing at your heart as you drown in your grief. Of what you had and never did.  

🩶

You can't tell when you wake up. The world is so dull that you may as well be unconscious. You stare at the ceiling, too drained to care about where you are or how you go there. 

The room is dim but for the lamp near your bedside. You should be cozy. The blanket is soft, the pillow cushy, but none of it can comfort you. There is nothing that can change what she did. Nothing that can undo what's done. Or give you back those squandered years. 

It's over. Not just her lies but your life. There's no restarting. There's no fixing this. You might not be sick the way your mom said you were but there has to be something wrong with your head if you believed her. 

What do you have left? What did you ever have at all?  

You sniff as your eyes itch. You're not going to cry. It'll all be easier if you just don't feel anything. 

There's a shift somewhere in the haze. A figure sits up near the foot of the bed. You squint as Andy combs his fingers through his hair, straightening in the rigid wooden chair from the dining room.  

"Sweetheart," he stands stiffly. "You're awake. There's water." 

He comes to the side the bed and gestures to the glass there. Your head lolls over. You close your eyes.  

"I can get you something else. Tea?" 

You don't react. You want to be left alone. All you feel is shame. He knows how stupid you are. He knew all along. 

“Honey,” he carefully sits on the edge. He touches your cheek, then your forehead. “Can you hear me? Can you understand me?” 

Your eyes roll and your lashes flutter. As much as you long to drift back into nothingness, your head is throbbing. You turn your face away from him. 

“I’m sorry,” he brings his hand to yours. “I really am. I should have done something sooner.” 

You don’t answer him. Again. What can you say? 

He sighs and draws away. He turns to face the wall and leans his elbows on his knees. He holds his head as he hunches over. 

Silence rises around you, rippling like the air around a raging fire. Stolid to the point of suffocation. There’s a tremble that isn’t within you. And something more. 

You move your head back to see Andy. He sniffles and wipes his nose with one hand as his other keeps his head up. He mops his cheek as he cries. You watch him, surprised and almost curious. 

“I’m so sorry,” he rasps. “I’m ashamed. I’m... horrible.” He pushes his hand up into his hair again as he sits up. He stares at the wall, the brims of his eyes reddened. “I can take you to the courthouse. You can tell the DA everything. I’ll resign.” 

You gulp. Why would he do all that? It’s not his fault your mom did what she did. Or that you let her. 

You push yourself up weakly, quivering as you keep your hands flat on the mattress. “Andy,” you murmur. “I... I don’t want to tell the DA.” You sway slightly and he looks at you. “I don’t want to tell anyone. It’s too embarrassing.” 

His eyes search you and his brows furrow, “are you sure?” You nod and hang your head. He gently touches your arm, “sweetie, you need to lay down.” He helps you recline. “Just relax. I know this is so hard. Actually, I don’t know. How could I?” 

You let your lashes droop and hug yourself loosely. You exhale heavily. You reach below your throat absently and find no tube there. That’s right. You don’t need it. 

“Thank you,” you utter. 

[sherbertquake56]

okay I’m dropping some of my fable arcane au thoughts before the new episodes drop tomorrow even tho most of it is based on season 1 anyway—

so some basic taggings for you that I based the AU around:

1. Icarus as Jinx.

powder vs jinx is just the sherbert vs icarus name thing. toxic father. unhealthy relationship with sibling. a lil crazy and maybe evil. thinks that they are at fault for the things around them. lil bombs? nah- little SPLASH potions. hearing and seeing mylo and claggor? it’s Haley- it’s literally Haley—

2. Fable as Silco.

okay fable’s design WAS partially inspired by silco— they literally look the same— they’re both a man with two priorities: take over and make his own nation & care for child.

you know the ending scene of season 1? where they’re sitting at the table? THAT. With Jinx assuming that he’s gonna give her up to topside and him getting the first chance to talk and saying “her name is JINX!” i could write an essay on that for icarus. they’re so toxic and it’s so perfect. also that scene at the start of s2 ep2? YEAH THAT—

3. Centross as Ekko

This one is controversial and up to debate but i will die on this hill— SO THE S1 BRIDGE FIGHT. I am so willing to put aside any possible prison duo gay-ness in this AU for that rivalry/fight. they were friends!!! they were so good!! and now they wanna KILL EACH OTHER!! it’s great.

It’s also specifically thinking of Ekko’s tree home as solstice— older Ekko very much has the vibe of Violet specifically-

4. Arisanna as Sevika

I DONT KNOW WHY BUT IT MAKES SENSE TO ME. It’s specifically vexed Ari during the coworkers era but idk it just feels right— I look at her relationship with Silco and Jinx and go ‘hmmm this could be something’

[I will also say there is an argument here for swapping Centross and Ari tho— big tree city as Ari rebuilding the records goes hard, and angsty fighty toxic with jinx centross is also good— it’s like 50/50 for me]

5. Isla as Vander

LET ISLA BE A BADASS IN THIS AU. SHE DESERVES IT— something something raising vi and powder alone, something something the backstory with silco— there’s something there and it hits really hard in scenes where vi sees vander and helps her get back up— also I look at jinx and vander and I go “mmmm this is in fact how icarus sees Isla”

6. Rae as Vi

This was obvious given the above but LISTEN— in this ALTERNATE UNIVERSE OF EVENTS I think it would be fun- do I think that vi perfectly fits canon rae? no. But in this world it would KICK ASS. rae deserves to beat some people up— got kicked out of the overworld (zaun) by fable (silco) and had to go to the end (piltover) to get away from him?? rae end prince aus are already here so why not end rae also punching people huh??? also. gay people.

———

Okay— here’s where I need some help, thoughts, and opinions from you all…

1. Caitlyn.

POLYAMORY IS HARD TO TAG AND I DONT KNOW WHO FITS BEST?? For me, season 1 Caitlyn fits best as Caspian, but season 2 Caitlyn is more for Fenris— so I’m very stuck. yes absolutely give thoughts on this please—

2. Viktor as Aax (but how does that work)

Viktor absolutely should be Aax— mr. Scientist / lab experiment / turned religious figure vessel for god is CORRECT. But honestly the rest of Piltover gang is really hard with Rae as Vi— Jayce/Viktor/Mel is yelling at me to be the polycule but aGH— ya know??? very stuck on this so I instead look at the coworkers and go “mm good yes—”

Random other tags I think also make sense:

- Ulysses as that Telchin looking mf Stev— mans took out one lil medical device as his fish self and I said YUP

- The hexcore big orb thing underground as Quixis— big white glitch orb room make things go wack. couldn’t be easier than that.

———

Anyways that’s all— I’ve been rotating this in my mind for like a week and have had way too many thoughts about it thank you for your time—

[remuswriting]

MAKE ME BELIEVE; KOZUME KENMA

You're haunting Kenma.

WORD COUNT: 1,154 words

TAGS: Post Time Skip; Ghosts; Angst; Second Person POV

NOTES: This is just vibes. Nothing else.

Kenma doesn’t believe in ghosts. Kuroo has always been the one who does. Always screeching during horror movies and games. Sleeping with all the lights on afterwards. Scared of his own shadow.

He’s the complete opposite of Kenma, who finds horror stories and games to be overly corny. They’re too focused on trying to scare people that they can’t. Or that’s what he believes.

But then you came.

There’s a difference between believing in ghosts and knowing one. He forgets most of the time, because you’re solid. You can press your side against his and let him know you’re there. The breeze moves your hair when it brushes past you two. Your voice is clear next to him, as if you’re truly in the room with him.

It’s easier to believe you’re not dead than to acknowledge you are.

Right now, you stare at him from the living room. It’s destroyed with the couch flipped over and volleyball magazines Hinata leaves all over the room. There’s broken glass from a glass being thrown against the wall.

Your chest is heaving, as if you’re struggling to breathe. He doesn’t even know what you’re angry about. He doesn’t remember what happened, but he figures he’s truly in the wrong.

He’s torn between apologizing and leaving. What is he meant to do? There’s no rule book for dealing with ghosts. There’s no rule book for you.

It’s quiet for a long moment before he leaves. The front door slamming shut by accident.

“What’s going on with you?” Kuroo asks when they’ve settled into his apartment. He’s usually where Kenma goes when something happens with you. He doesn’t know about you, though. Kenma hasn’t been able to tell anyone. He doesn’t want to be seen as crazy. “You never just stop by.”

“Just needed to get out,” Kenma says, even though he regrets leaving. “I’ve not been sleeping.”

Kuroo immediately gets worried, like he always does. Similar to a mother hen, but one that kicks her kids when given the chance.

“Maybe you should talk to your doctor,” Kuroo says, and it’s a good suggestion. “He could prescribe you something.”

Kenma shakes his head. “You know how I feel about medication.”

It turns him into a zombie, unable to fully function after waking up. He can’t do it again.

Kuroo looks at him, unsure, but he finally nods. “Okay, but if it gets worse, just think about it?”

Kenma nods. “Okay,” he says, even though he won’t.

You’re in his living room when he gets home. His house is clean. Anime plays on the television, but you’re not really watching it. You’re just staring at it with vacant eyes. It’s a common occurrence of you not always being here in the moment.

“Hey,” he says, and you look over at him. Your eyes are still slightly vacant.

“I’m sorry,” you say, and he nods.

“Can you let me sleep tonight?” he asks, and you slowly nod.

“I have to leave soon,” you say, and your voice is distant. “I may not be back for a while.”

“Where are you going?” Kenma asks, panic surges through him. You’ve never left before. You’re the most consistent person in his life.

You look away from him. “I don’t know. Just somewhere.”

Kenma doesn’t understand. He’s never understood your existence when he remembers you’re a ghost. He doesn’t know why you’re here, and you never tell him either. It makes less sense why you have to leave.

“Why?”

You look back at him, but it still doesn’t feel like you’re there with him. He hates it. He misses your heaving frame and angry expression. At least you’d been there in the moment.

“I don’t know,” you say, honestly. “I just feel this pull, and I can’t say no.”

It’s quiet as Kenma takes that in. You’re a ghost. A pull can mean anything. It can mean you leaving for good.

“Are you coming back?”

You’re no longer as solid as you once were. Fading. You’re fading. He’s scared, but he doesn’t know how to say that. It’s stuck in his throat, along with his fear.

“Hopefully,” you say, and then you’re gone. Anime still plays on the television and the house is still clean, but you’re no longer on the couch. You’re just completely gone.

He slowly walks over to the couch and touches the cushion you sat on. It’s cold to the touch, as if you were never there—as if he’d completely imagined you.

Kenma sits down, right where you always did, and tries to remember how it felt when you pressed your sides together. He can’t, though. It’d been so fleeting. You’d never truly been solid, but he always told himself you were.

The days blur together, especially when Kenma sleeps less. He worries you’ll come back when he’s asleep and leave. He’s nauseous all the time and unable to sleep. His eyes are so heavy that sometimes they stay closed for just a little too long. It gets to the point that Kuroo tries to intervene. Kuroo tries to get him to get help, but Kenma can’t. He’ll be seen as crazy.

He’s forgetting what you look like. There aren’t any photos of you for him to look at. There aren’t any voice recordings for him to remember your voice. It’s torturous.

It’s nearing six in the morning when there’s a knock at his door. It startles him, and his eyes have been closed for just a little too long. He hurries to get up, even though he doesn’t know why someone would be out there.

The door is heavy as he opens it, and it’s you standing outside of it. He freezes. You’re solid in front of him. Outside of his house, which you’d been trapped in for so long. You’re not fading. You’re vibrant.

“Y/N?” he says, but it comes out more as a question.

“Kenma,” you say, and your voice is smooth and loud. “I came back.”

Then you’re running at him and wrapping your arms around him. You’re so warm and comforting, and he sags into you. His eyes burn, and he fears he’s going to cry, but he can’t help it. You’re back and you’re real.

“Am I dreaming?” he asks, and you shake your head. Your hair brushes against his skin.

He loves you. He misses you. He needs you.

“You came back,” he says, and he lets himself completely melt into you. You hold him up as he cries. Your fingers brush through his hair, and he could sleep just like this. “I’m so tired.”

You pull away slightly, and he tries to hold on to you tighter, but he’s too weak from exhaustion.

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” you say before holding his face so gently. “I’ll let you sleep for as long as you need to.”

Kenma smiles as he lets out a gentle laugh. “Thank you.”

[aussiexlovexaffair]

mikey apologizes for making you feel ignored words: 2.6k! request fill: anon ask! tags: smut. tw: oral (fem receiving), light choking, dirty talk, overstimulation, implied unprotected sex author’s note: pt 2 of the michael video game fic ;) listen to: “meddle about” by chase atlantic

The last thing that Michael wants to do is make you feel ignored. His stardom doesn’t exactly make dating him any easier for you and he’s aware of that. You have to plan everything around his tight schedule, which is prone to changing at the last minute. When the two of you go on dates, you’re bombarded with the flashes of the paparazzi.

 But you always manage to figure out something— a dinner, a movie, a walk in the park— a trait that he now feels like he’s taking for granted. You put up with all of his bullshit and yet he feels like he hasn’t quite shown enough gratitude for it. Seeing your outburst was enough to knock some sense into his head. 

He has to make amends. Michael can’t just say he’s sorry and offer you slices of the pizza you bought him, which was the apology he settled for immediately after the fight. Those were just words and you were entitled to the food you purchased. That doesn’t hold enough meaning. He needs to actively do something to express just how much he’s thankful for you. Hours after the fight when Michael sees you wearing his band t-shirt and your panties, he decides exactly how he’s going to do that.

“C’mon, spread your legs for me..” His eyes find yours as he kisses the inside of your thigh. Your hands grab at the back of your legs to keep them pressed firmly against your chest. He hums in satisfaction when you obey. “Thaaat’s it… you just sit back and lemme do the rest, okay?” A breathy gasp escapes your lips when his tongue makes contact with you. He runs his tongue up your slit ever so slowly until he reaches your clit. Wrapping his lips around it, he sucks gently. His tongue swirls around in circles as he does so. “F–fuck, Michael…” Your head tips back against the navy comforters of his bed. 

You feel him smile against you momentarily. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect. Do you know that?” The green-haired boy trails his left hand up to meet your core. He uses his index and middle finger to spread your folds open for him. Shifting up to get closer to you, he spits directly onto your pussy and runs his tongue over you once again. His tongue moves fluidly, but with just enough pressure to be teasing. “You’re always so tolerant of my shit, too.” Michael’s lips meet your skin softly. “I don’t deserve you..” It’s amusing to him how you try to deny the compliment. You seemed almost offended that he’d suggest he didn’t deserve you. “That— That’s not true..” Your words fall short when he decides to employ his other hand as well. Your boyfriend’s thumb circles your clit in time with his tongue. You catch your bottom lip in your teeth, hands grasping at the sheets beneath you to try and keep yourself quiet. You inhale shakily and manage to finish your sentence. “You deserve me.”

If it was earlier, you wouldn’t be so insistent on staying quiet. But since then, Michael’s bandmates had returned to the house and that meant your moans had to be a lot quieter. He pulls away to brush the pastel green fringe away from his eyes. You can barely see the color in the light. It looked more platinum than anything. But that’s the least of your concern. He traces his fingers down your slit. “No need to stay quiet.”

You raise your head off the mattress enough to look him in the eyes. “The guys are home.” A shiver runs down your spine as his middle finger traces your entrance leisurely. You know he knows that the others are home. He had a conversation with Calum minutes before he rushed you off into his bedroom. Luke and Ashton joined him on the couch prior to that to play a round of FIFA. But you figure it must’ve slipped his mind.

His middle finger slowly dips into you, moving in and out teasingly. “So?...” The action has your body melting into the sheets underneath him. With a curl of his finger, he encourages a low whine out of you. 

“Ha… oh my god…” You let out a breathless gasp in response to the repetitive movement. His fingers aren’t as long as some of the other guys you’ve had before. His are thicker, but they still have some length to them. But you suppose you could trade one thing for another. The other guys didn’t have the skills that he had thanks to his guitar. His seem to drag against your most sensitive spots with each motion he makes. Withdrawing his finger, he smiles at your reaction.

Michael knows exactly what you want. He knows that you want him to continue, but he plays coy for a bit. “You’re right.” His eyes glide over your figure in front of him appreciatively. His lidded eyes lock onto yours. “The guys are here and it would be really awkward to do this with them at home. I guess we should just—” He’s interrupted by a quiet whimper of protest from you. “No, no, I wanna keep going.” Raising his eyebrows ever so slightly, he teases your sudden change.

“Oh, so the boys aren’t a problem anymore? What happened?… Huh? What made you change your mind?” Michael leans forward, watching as you slowly repose and allow him to loom over you. His hand traces your jaw absentmindedly. While his tone is almost sickeningly sweet, you can tell that there’s a hint of a mocking nature behind it. His fingers travel to your neck, pressing on the sides with light pressure. A pleased smile grows on his face as he watches your jaw go slack. “What?... Don’t tell me it’s this.”

Michael notices how your hand runs over his bicep and down his chest. You stop at the band of his boxers and run your fingers over the v-line he has. “Stop teasing me..” The demand you make isn’t forceful. He knows that you intended it to sound a little more commanding, but it came across like a plea. His hand releases its grip on your neck gradually. He brings it down to the black material covering him up. A thick imprint strains against the fabric. Running a hand over it, he lets out a low hiss.

“Fuck..” The feeling makes his eyes flutter closed briefly. Grabbing your hand gently, he brings it to his lap, allowing you to feel it for yourself. Your fingers glide lightly over the shaft. The muscles in his lower abdomen clench in response. “You pick the position,” he grunts out with knitted brows. “Whatever you want. I don’t care how crazy it is. I’d do it all for you.” 

You huff out a breath you weren’t aware you were holding in. His hands slide up your sides delicately and settle on your waist. “I just wanna ride you, Mikey.” He cranes his neck down to brush his nose against yours. Sighing contentedly, you cup his cheek with your hand. Michael moves his head to the side to press a quick kiss to your palm. “I wanna be able to feel all of you.” 

“Anything. Anything for you.” His head drops to the crook of your neck to trail open-mouthed kisses against your skin. He’s not just going through with the actions to solidify his apology. There’s a sincerity behind his actions which proves that— while he might not have as much time to do it— he’s prepared to give you whatever you need, much like you do for him. He uses his grip on your waist to flip the both of you over. Your thighs rest on either side of his lap. Michael runs his hands over the expanse of your legs while running his tongue over his bottom lip. The bed creaks slightly when you lean forward, your chest against his, and lift your hips. Underneath you, Michael lines himself up with your entrance and then resumes holding onto your waist. 

The first few seconds were spent slowly lowering yourself onto his dick. Sex with Michael was never painful, but he was thick enough that you had to adjust to his size most, if not all of the time that you two slept together. With gentle hands, he holds onto your lower back and groans. The feeling was something he had to get used to as well. Your walls hugging him tightly never ceased to make his hips stutter at first. “Mhmmm.. just like that..” His tip drags against your sweet spot accidentally, making your pussy flutter around him. “Oh, fuck—” The unexpected feeling has Michael tilting his head back. His chest rises and falls fervently. “I’m gonna cum if you do that again.”

With a breathless laugh, he focuses his eyes back on you. Your hips lower just a bit further until you’re an inch or two from bottoming out. Just the feeling of being so full of him is enough to cum. “Y-you feel so good…” Lifting yourself up, you slowly begin moving on top of him. His hands resting on your waist guide you as you find a steady rhythm. Lewd heavy breathing and the slick sound of you riding him echo off of his bedroom walls. To keep your balance as you speed up a bit, you place your hands on his chest. Michael instead redirects them to his shoulders so he can sit up. As you let out soft mewls of pleasure, his hands run over your chest. He cups your breasts carefully and places kisses on the swell of them. It doesn’t take long for his thumb to find one of your nipples, circling it as he sucks and kisses the other one. 

Michael’s hips slowly begin to lip up to meet yours every time you lower yourself back down onto his dick. He pulls back from your chest to watch your expressions. Your moans, which started out as hushed whines, have now grown into loud gasps and deprived whimpers. “Holy fuck… you feel so good wrapped around me.” His body is covered in a thin layer of sweat. The light green hair in his face clings to his skin. “Does that feel good?.. Is this what you need?” You can only respond with a nod as he thrusts up into you at the perfect angle. He leans in to capture your lips in demanding kisses. The action muffles your sounds temporarily, but as soon as he pulls away they return to their previous volume. He hugs you to his chest and holds onto your hips, stalling your movements. “M’ gunna fuck you like this, is that okay?” His words are shaky and spoken slowly. Though, you can’t tell if it’s because he’s too tired to speak at a normal pace or he thinks you won’t be able to understand it if he talks any faster. 

You decide it might be a mix of both considering how shaky his hands are on your body and how cloudy your mind seems to have become. “Uh-huh…” The response you mumble out is a pathetic excuse for an answer, but Michael is aware that you might be a little out of it. 

With a smile, he presses a kiss to your cheek. “That’s my girl, you just take whatever I have to give you, okay sweetheart?..” You can feel your face flushing at the praise he gives you. His thrusts upward start off gentle, getting you back into it. After a couple more thrusts, he adjusts his position and speeds up. You roll your hips in tandem with his movements as you let out sinful moans. He watches his dick pump in and out of you with a boyish smirk. Every once in a while, he’s able to catch a glimpse of a faint bulge that appears with every thrust and disappears every time he pulls out. Your walls flutter around him sensitively as you get louder. He knows you’re close— he can tell by the way you tense up slightly and how you bury your face in the nape of his neck. Coherent sentences become impossible for you to form with the growing pleasure building in your lower stomach. Instead, you opt for babbling whatever comes to your mind in the moment if you can manage to get it out.

“Oh my god— oh my god!!… I love you... I love you!..” Your nails lightly drag against his back while he keeps his pace relentless. He pushes on your lower back, trying to find the right angle that makes you see stars. Angling himself a little bit more towards your front, he hears you cry out and starts aiming for it every thrust. “Oh fuck— oh my god— Michael, m’ gunna cum!...” He keeps the same tempo and angle to bring you to the edge of an orgasm. Your walls clench around him and you feel a rush throughout your body, making your jaw go completely slack. Slowing himself down, he rubs your clit to help you ride out your orgasm. After a few seconds, the pinnacle of the feeling subsides and you’re left with a twitching feeling all over your body.

Michael hooks his hands under your thighs and tilts you back so that you’re laying down underneath him. He can feel himself moments away from cumming. “Mmph… oh shit…” His lower abdomen clenches and his motions become sloppier. Just when he thinks he’s about the cum, he pulls out of you. Broken groans escape from his lips. He strokes himself at the sight of you, his tip aimed at your stomach. Thick, pearly white ropes paint your stomach. Michael is left gasping for air softly after his orgasm, sitting back on his heels to admire his work. When he catches his breath, he shifts to the side so he can lie down. 

He feels a weight on his chest and his eyes flicker down to find you resting your head on him. Despite feeling like he’s made of lead, he manages to pull you closer silently. Michael watches you stare up at him shyly for a moment before he cracks a smile. “Don't get shy on me now.” Your eyes dart around the room for anything to look at to distract yourself. Using his thumb and forefinger, he tilts your head back to him and follows your eyes with his own. “C’mon, look at me.”

Upon hearing the request, you slowly bring your eyes up to his. His lips press softly against your forehead. The salty taste of sweat doesn’t bother him— he knows he’s probably much worse. “I love you…” He whispers affectionately. “You’re so fucking amazing for putting up with my work and the fans..” His hand smooths out the back of your hair. “And I couldn’t be more lucky to have someone like you as my girlfriend.” You lie there for a moment and take in the words. It feels good knowing that out of millions of girls, despite seeing him not as often as you’d like— he wants you. You nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck and respond quietly, “I love you too. And I don’t care how busy you are, how many fans you have, whatever. I’ll still want you.” A cough rings out in the otherwise quiet room. 

Your heads shoot up to where it originated from. Shielding your bodies from sight, you both come face to face with Luke looking at you through the large gap in the doorway. The blond rubs his face awkwardly and looks down. “You forgot to— uhm— you forgot to close the door.”

[mythicmanuscripts]

Okay so firstly I love everything you’ve posted so far, I fear I may be obsessed. Then secondly, in your Aegon headcannons you mentioned him crying SO many times which made me think about crybaby Aegon and now I need more thoughts on this pretty please

I actually didnt even notice how often I mentioned him crying until I saw this ask and went bak to Aegon headcannons and oh my god you're so right. I fear I may have gained an obsession for crybaby Aegon now, so much so that I'm gonna make it a tag! We now have 'crybaby!aegon' as a tag for all our crybaby aegon needs, so here's some crybaby!aegon thoughts to kick off the tag.

So firstly, ever since Aegon started to have feelings for you, you could make him cry at the drop of a hat. You can be as mean to him as possible and he won't shed a single tear, but when you're soft with him? When you complement him and stroke his hair and call him your pretty little thing? Tears, so many tears.

You never even give him the opportunity to feel embarrassed about this because you immediately wipe his tears away with your thumb and kiss his forehead and tell him you love him very very much.

He cries even easier during sex. In fact he almost never stops crying during sex.

At first you couldnt figure out why Aegon kept on turning his head away from you or burying his head in a pillow. You can't work out why, and you eve ask him if he doesn't want to look at you during sex because that's the only thing you can think of.

He panics when you ask that, because he can't stand the thought of you believing he doesn't want to look at you. He does!! He really really does!!

So then you ask what else could he be doing by constantly turning his face away from you and then the just gets all blushy and shy and says he didnt want you to see him crying. Which just makes your heart break because you can't believe Aegon believed you would be upset or annoyed at him for crying.

From that moment onwards, whenever Aegon tries to turn his head or hide in a pillow, you make a point to put a finger under his chin and gently turn his head to face you. You don't wipe his tears away, instead you just say he's beautiful and you love him very very much and this of course makes him cry even harder.

Over time Aegon stops turning away from you and actually starts moving towards you? He just turns and burries his head against your shoulder, crying and whining and thanking you for making him feel so good.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Away (Part 2)

Regulus Black AU

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: T- mentions of abuse

Summary: Growing up in abusive homes has finally reached its breaking point. Regulus comes to run away with you in the middle of the night. Its time for a new life.

Link to Part 1

Link to AO3

____

An hour later, you stood outside of what must have been Sirius’ home. You weren't sure how Regulus had found the address. In the time that Sirius had been gone from the Black family, Regulus never uttered his brother’s name. Something told you that it wasn’t out of anger from Sirius’ departure. It was probably to keep himself safe. That made sense now.

“Regulus, what are we going to tell him?”

You asked. Regulus stood staring at the door. He was nervous about facing his brother but didn’t understand why. Regulus never blamed Sirius for leaving. He was a little moody that Sirius didn’t take him with him when he left but he understood Sirius’ reasoning. Sirius didn’t have a safe place for Regulus to tag along to. He also couldn’t ask the Potters to take in two children unexpectedly.

“The truth. He’s my brother. He’ll understand.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

You questioned. While you never had an issue with Sirius, you were unsure if he would be willing to entertain the idea of letting the two of you stay. Would you be putting him in an uncomfortable position? Would you be asking too much?

Regulus squeezed your hand.

“Then we will figure something out. Please don’t worry. You know that I will never let anything happen to you.”

“I know that, love.”

You replied as Regulus knocked on the door.

“It will be fine.”

Regulus murmured as the door opened.

Sirius’ mouth dropped the moment that he saw the two of you. Clearly, this was the LAST thing that he ever expected to happen.

“Regulus? Y/n?”

Sirius was stunned, to say the least. He thought after leaving to go to the Potter’s, his brother wanted nothing to do with him. Now here he stood…with an extremely bruised face.

Regulus took a breath before speaking.

“Hi, Sirius. We need your help.”

Sirius continued to stare stupidly at Regulus for a few moments before remembering that he could speak.

“Come inside.”

He managed to get out before moving out of the way. Sirius’ eyes dropped to Regulus’s hand that was still wrapped around yours.

Good. They are still together.

You were one of the few things that Sirius was glad Regulus held onto. If there could be one good thing in Regulus’ life you were it. You were the good example that Regulus needed to follow.

Sirius led the two of you into a small sitting room where Remus sat with a book on his lap. When he noticed Regulus and yourself step in, he automatically frowned and closed said book.

Regulus was no fool. He knew that Remus saw his face. That was going to be the topic of discussion until the bruising healed and he looked normal again.

“Okay, what in the hell is going on? What happened to your face?”

Sirius asked, sitting down on the arm of the couch beside Remus. Regulus sighed.

“I think you know what happened to my face.”

Sirius was on his feet in an instant and began pacing. He was totally enraged! Walburga was hitting Regulus again. Sirius had hoped that since he left, his parents would use that as a reason to treat Regulus better. Clearly, that was not the case.

“Why is she hitting you?”

Regulus shrugged. He hated that he had to say this in front of you. He knew that you probably had a feeling but that didn't make saying it in your presence any easier.

“Mum doesn’t approve of Y/n. I told her that I wasn’t going to give her up to marry some dolt that they picked out for me. After that…she really let me have it.”

Your hand tightened around Regulus’.

"If I didn’t hate Walburga before. I have a reason now.”

You thought as Sirius ran a hand through his hair.

“There is nothing wrong with Y/n. The two of you have been together since you were fucking 12. I couldn’t have picked a better girl for you. She has made you less…Black family like. I should go over and beat the hell out of dad and see how they like it.”

You gave Sirius a thankful smile as he continued on a rage filled tangent for a few moments. Regulus waited a moment before speaking. He knew that Sirius would be angry. If there was another thing that Regulus could give his brother credit for it was his protective nature. It didn’t matter how old Regulus was, Sirius always kept a protective eye on him.

“That is why I married her.”

Silence filled the room. Sirius had stopped his raging and fell back down onto the couch while Remus’ mouth dropped again. Remus was the first to speak this time.

“How did you marry her? The two of you are 16 years old. “

Regulus groaned.

“We lied! You don’t grow up in the Black family without stretching the truth on something.”

Remus muttered “oh shit” under his breath while Sirius moved to the edge of the couch.

“The two of you are 16.”

“Yes, we know.”

Regulus replied.

“What do either of you know about being married? What if you change your mind?”

“We won’t.”

Regulus again replied. Sirius took a breath.

“What do you want me to say?”

Regulus held his hands up.

“I wanted you to know. I would have felt silly just showing up and not saying anything! Look, I married Y/n because I love her. If she and I are married, mum and dad won’t be able to split us up. I’m not going to change my mind and neither is Y/n. We will both be legal in a few months. I know it may sound crazy to you two but to us it felt right. I had to keep Y/n safe too. Her dad is as bad as mum. I couldn’t stand by anymore and see her being hurt.”

Sirius looked between Regulus and yourself with a sad expression. This was another thing that he didn’t see coming. He didn’t expect Regulus to get married until he was made to. Whether it be to you or someone else, Regulus wasn’t one to step outside of his comfy little bubble that he made for himself.

Remus stopped his pacing and turned to face the two of you.

“You both realize how serious this is, right? Not only serious, but it will be difficult. Most marriages that start this young won’t last. Statistically…”

Regulus immediately cut Remus off.

“I know the statistics but we will be different. I simply need the two of you to have some faith in us. I also need help staying safe from mum and dad…not only mum and dad…”

Sirius frowned again.

“Who else is there?”

Regulus pressed his lips together.

“There is more that I haven’t told you. The death eaters have been trying to recruit me for some time now. You know there are only so many times that you can say no to those people.”

Regulus ignored the look of pain on your face. He hadn’t exactly told you about the death eaters trying to recruit him. You weren’t surprised. With the way the Blacks supported Voldemort and all of the dark magic Regulus knew it was only a matter of time. The dark lord probably saw a load of potential in Regulus…a potential that you didn’t want to think of.

Sirius was on his feet again.

“Nope, you aren’t going back. No way in hell are you going back…fuck it. I’ll go tell mum that she can take a toaster to the bathtub. Neither of you are going back to this shit.”

Remus nodded in agreement. He had a dark feeling that the dark lord would, at some point, find something good in Regulus. Remus has only been hoping that he would be wrong.

“The two of you can stay here. It would only make sense.”

You decided it was your time to speak. From the moment that Regulus had come to whisk you away, you had felt that your life was spiraling. You needed to regain some control.

“We can help too with whatever you have going on. We don’t want to be part of the problem that is happening in our world.”

Sirius nodded.

“The two of you are adult enough to get married so I think you are old enough to make a decision on who you support. I will warn you that it isn’t always easy…sometimes it's dangerous.”

“You can’t stop a madman sitting at home knitting a scarf.”

You replied. Sirius focused his attention back on your hand. Right away he noticed the engagement ring that his grandmother had specifically given to Regulus.

“No, you can’t. What is going to happen when your parents come looking for the two of you. Are you going to say that you love each other and that's what it's all about?”

You smirked at your now brother-in-law.

“No, that is the hokey pokey. We’ll figure it out when it happens. You made it when you ran away. I think we will be able to also.”

Sirius wanted to argue. He wanted to say that he knew it wouldn’t be that easy. Walburga and Orion would probably put up more of a fight for Regulus. Sirius always felt like he was the “practice” kid while Regulus was the son that they had always wanted. Regulus was the one that they seemed to not make most of the same mistakes with.

Regulus focused his attention back on his brother while absentmindedly stroking his thumb over your palm.

“I don’t care what mum and dad have to say. I will do whatever I can to keep us safe.”

Sirius was satisfied enough with that response. It appeared that Regulus was not being selfish. He was no longer the arrogant self-absorbed child that he used to be. It appeared that he had finally grown up.

“One question?”

Sirius asked as Regulus turned back to him.

“Yes?

“Is she pregnant?”

Both Regulus and yourself shook your heads. That was one of the LAST things that you even wanted to think of. Children had been something that you had discussed with Regulus. At the time, that was something that neither of you were interested in.

“We can barely take care of ourselves. It would be foolish to even think of such a thing.”

You commented.

“I don’t even like kids.”

Regulus added. While he didn’t mind taking care of you, the thought of another being so dependent on him for every small thing sounded absolutely miserable. He also didn’t want to entertain the thought of losing his precious sleep. Being up in the middle of the night with some angry human screaming at you while you were sleep-deprived was a horror that Regulus didn’t even want to entertain.

Both Sirius and Remus were relieved to hear that.

“Well, you are the responsible one.”

Sirius commented before leaning back into the couch. For the first time in a while, he was feeling somewhat better with the events happening.

“It's settled then. The two of you can stay here. You can stay as long as you would like.”

“Thank you.”

Regulus said as Remus turned to the doorway.

“Come on. I’ll show you to the guest room.”

Once the three of you were out of the room, Sirius ran a hand over his face feeling even more exhausted. He hated knowing that the two of you were having to grow up so fast but, unfortunately, it was just another sign of the times.

“Well, he’s not a little boy anymore.”

(meanwhile at Grimmauld Place)

Walburga sat in her sitting room, stirring a cup of tea. She was seething in anger after the altercation with Regulus.

Just what does he think he is doing falling in love with some halfblood? That boy was raised better. He knows better than to associate with scum. I’ll just have to beat it out of him. I can break him.

Walburga thought coldly. While she adored her youngest son, she was not about to let him throw his life away for a woman not worthy of him. She would not sit back and watch a half blood leach onto the family name and fortune. The family had worked too long and too hard to deviate from their Toujours Pur motto.

Why the men in this family must be so weak is beyond me.

She thought coldly. Men in the Black family being “weak” had been Walburga’s soapbox for a long time. From her brother Alphard to even her husband, Walburga constantly called the lot of them weak. Now, her baby was even stepping into that thought process.

Like his useless weakling of a father, he can’t say no to a pretty face.

Walburga was certain that she could find Regulus a suitable pureblood girl to marry. He didn’t have to love her. Regulus could hate her for all Walburga cared. He did, however, have a role to complete. Since her blood traitor of a son left the family, everything fell on Regulus. Walburga had a strange feeling anyway that Regulus would be the one to complete everything anyway.

“Walburga?”

Her brooding was interrupted when Orion stepped into her sitting room. Glaring at her husband, Walburga didn’t like when her “me time” was interrupted.

“What is it?”

She snapped. Orion immediately rolled his eyes. Why he put up with so much from this bitch of a woman was still a mystery of itself.

Oh, right. I have to.

Orion thought coldly before speaking.

“I was curious, did you let Regulus go out after we told him that he was to stay home?”

Walburga frowned.

“I told him to stay in his room until he was ready to admit that he was wrong and wanted to apologize. Why do you ask?”

Orion shrugged.

“I just came from his room and he isn’t there.”

Walburga’s typical frown intensified as she got up and started for the stairs.

“Regulus!”

She screeched his name as she practically kicked the door open. Walburga had been hoping that Orion was simply not opening his eyes properly and Regulus would be sitting on his bed. Unfortunately, it appeared that her head was right.

Inside Regulus’ room, everything was just as it had been. The bed was neatly made and all of Regulus’ belongings in orderly places. The only thing missing was Regulus himself.

Walburga walked around the room looking for any signs of her youngest son’s whereabouts. Finding nothing, Walburga turned to scowl at Orion.

“Have you checked the rest of the house?”

Again Orion rolled his eyes. This was yet another reason why he absolutely hated the woman that he was married to. She was downright ignorant. Walburga seemed to take pride in trying to make him feel as dumb as she was but always failed miserably.

“If you think that I am too stupid to take the initiative to look all over the house before I come to check with you then you are most welcome to scour the house yourself. I’ll be in my study when you discover that I am correct in my assessment that Regulus is missing.”

Walburga growled before shouting Kreacher’s name. A moment passed before the old house elf popped into the room.

“You called, my mistress?”

Walburga turned to the elf.

“Kreacher, where is Regulus?”

Kreacher looked hesitant for a moment. He knew exactly what Regulus was doing and didn’t want to out him. Kreacher knew, sadly, he had no choice but to tell Walburga the truth.

“Master Regulus has left. He said that he was leaving. Master Regulus didn’t exactly say where.”

Kreacher decided to slightly embellish that he didn’t know where Regulus was going. He knew. Kreacher had seen Regulus take the engagement ring from the desk drawer. If Regulus was going anywhere, it was to you.

Walburga stood motionless for a moment before screaming. Both Kreacher and Orion jumped slightly. Neither party was expecting that loud of a noise so suddenly.

Neither said anything for a few moments as Walburga stood stewing in her rage. Walburga immediately stomped over to the desk where the engagement ring lay. She hoped that she was wrong but something told her to check on her mother’s ring.

Pulling the drawer open, Walburga felt around until a small velvet box touched her fingertips. She quickly pulled the box out and opened it. Just as she suspected, there was nothing in the box. Her mother’s ring was gone just like her youngest child.

“He took the ring.”

“What ring?”

Orion questioned as Walburga turned. She glared at him as if he was the single most stupid being on the earth. Throwing the empty box at her husband’s chest, Walburga started yelling at Orion again.

“My mother’s ring, you fool! The engagement ring that she left Regulus is gone! He has probably taken it and ran off with that half blood bitch!”

___

@millies0bsimp @geeksareunique @knreidy1 @jessyballet @fific7 @@teletubiswszpilkach @spideyxalmighty @lucasfilms77 @dumbbunnys-safes @dumybitch @readtomeregulus @i-love-scott-mccall @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @s-we-e-t-t-ea @iluvthe-marauders @woohoney @abaker74 @regulus-black-223048 @saramaple @missgorldafirst @stelleduarte @gugggu6gvai @jag9000 @bennyberry @f4iryluvy @panpride @haroldpotterson @mentally-unstable-hoe @goldensunshineshit @padf00ts-l0ver @saramaple @goldensunshineshit @ravenhood2792 @playmore-zeppelin @authoressskr @emiwrites3reads @knight-of-gleefulness @rogue-nyx88 @shaylybaby2032 @coffeeaddictednymph @livshifts @ell0ra-br3kk3r @ad-astra-again @regulusblackswhorecrux @kindestofkings @criminalyetminimal @rubes-xoxo @untoldshortsofthefandoms

[bell4donn4]

“TOO SWEET” -Luke Castellan

Tags: lowkey loser!luke, Hades!reader, mention of drinking, not established relationships, reader’s mean and lonely, Luke likes to be used? Ig, kinda toxic dynamic between the two

life at camp was always so boring, so empty.

the only fun thing you could do was corrupt the forest’s satyrs to get a bottle of wine.

Truly, being at camp was exhausting, especially as you got older.

Everyone excepted the older kids to help the new. But that was none of your concern, you were more than convinced that maybe camp could’ve invested into a teacher or two instead of forcing children to take the lead on other children.

Chiron was barely around, and Mr. D was anything but a role model.

The only person at camp who seemed to enjoy being helpful was Luke Castellan.

Head counsoler of the Hermes’s cabin; he seemed to be the closest thing to a dad figure kids could have in that place.

He was always doing something, always busy giving a helping hand to whoever needed.

Camp’s golden boy for sure. Bright and nice, funny and sunny.

You didn’t believe any of the reassuring words that came out of his mouth.

There was absolutely no way he liked being used like that, forced to take responsibility for kids that were not his.

You remember vividly the one time, years back, when you stumbled upon a crying kid. Luke was kneeled infront of him, patting on his head as he comforted him. “Its going to be okay” — “don’t worry, okay? Everything is going to be fine”

He was barely 15 when that happened.

You wouldn’t know how to comfort anyone now, let alone at 15.

Somehow, you hated Luke for it. You hated the way he would simply let everything slide on him, the way he allowed everyone to abuse his niceness.

You would never let anyone do that to you. You hardly talked with anyone, actually; preferring to be on your own instead of hanging around the loudness of the other campers, which all seemed so happy to be there.

In fact, the only person who you would occasionally “talked” to was Luke. Many times he caught you breaking the rules, and many times he allowed you to go and redeem yourself instead of telling Chiron. And many other times he found you doing the same exact things, even tho you told him you’ll never do em again.

He was sugar-rotting sweet. Never telling on you.

You hated him for that as well. Why couldn’t he just report you instead of looking at you with his puppy like-eyes? Almost begging you to go sleep and make his job easier instead of getting drunk almost every night.

You wondered why he still covered you, even after years of this routine happening. But you just figured it was his nauseously kind heart.

You wish he’d rebel for once, even to you. You wish he’d just tell you to fuck off and go to bed- but he never did.

“It’s not good for you y/n”

It surprised you he even knew your name.

“You know- getting constantly wasted. I feel like this is not the right way to cope” — “with whatever you’re dealing with”

“I’m dealing with shitty parents Luke, the same thing you’re dealing with”

Your sarcastic remarks often burned on his skin. He wish you’d just listen to him for once- instead of making it so hard for him.

“Oh”

Your infamous smirk would hit him hard as a brick, every single time.

This was an example of the nightly conversations you had.

Sometimes you would go as far as asking him if he wants a sip, other times you’d just tell him to piss off instead. Depending on how you felt.

During the day, you simply didn’t speak at all. Weird, anyone would find it, but when the sunlight was out you wouldn’t acknowledge his existence; even ignored him, perhaps.

He didn’t mind- not that he’d show it anyways, but it was pretty in character for you to do something like that.

The moody daughter of hades- what else could he expect from you?

Yet sometimes it’d hurt.

Maybe he did care more than he should’ve. But again, wasn’t that in character for him? To be overly good and kind and caring towards the unworthy?

Only very few times you’d spare him a words. Usually when someone needed him and you happened to be the one sent to call him.

Perhaps it was okay to him; he grew rough and unloved- he didn’t care if he wasn’t more than a secretive nightly swing to you.

As long as he could have you, he was willing to be used. Because that’s all he knew anyways.

[bernardsbendystraws]

𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 𝑻𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒓 . . .

My name is Rose. I’ve been in the fandom here on Tumblr for close to a year now. Plenty of questions come towards me every single day varying topics from the following: How do I grow my account? How do I even start writing? What should I know before posting?

In this post, I would like to address as many things as possible for new people or just people who are feeling a bit lost. IT’S OKAY. I was you too at some point! I still don’t even know how to work everything either!!!! Links for tutorials will be included as well! Thank you to @muwapsturniolo and @sturnioz and @sweetshuga for these tutorials as well because tech makes me wanna choke on light bulbs.

Making your account before posting can seem overwhelming. You have to recognize that any theme can be changed, any tags can be edited. It is not the end of the world to make a mistake! 

Let's get right into it . . .

– Tag your work correctly. If it includes smut, only tag smut. Examples of this would be “sturniolo smut” “chris sturniolo smut” and etc. Same goes for fluff and angst. Look at the way other people tag their posts to find which tags to use. 

– If you got inspiration from another post, tag the creator of that post! I promise it is NOT a bad thing. In all honesty, it helps your work do better. Most writers are flattered when you take inspiration from them RESPECTFULLY. They are way more likely to reblog, hence boosting your account and post!

– Make a pinned post for a masterlist or navigation. It is a lot easier to figure it out at the start rather than later down the road. Find masterlist tutorial here. Find a tutorial for linking tags here.

– A taglist is complicated. Tumblr isn’t always the best at making sure everyone truly gets tagged. Sometimes it is the users fault when they do not have @ mentions on in settings. The way to make sure people truly get tagged is pretty simple. You can find a tutorial here. Basically, you enter 5 users at a time, hitting enter and repeating until you reach 50 users. At that point, you will need to make a separate post for a second taglist. 

– Your theme. This is very personal. You can pick any color, designs, and pictures you want. Lots of people like to do custom fonts, others like to do custom colors for their texts. There’s an endless amount of options and you will just have to mess around but you can find tutorials for each here: COLOR / FONT / DIVIDERS

– Gaining traction is hard. You need to write well, but this doesn’t mean it should sound like a book. At the end of the day, people don’t want to google what a bunch of different words mean. Make sure that the plot is understandable from the perspective of someone just reading it. If people are confused, they will not want to read it. 

– Another point with getting more growth is being unique. People need to be interested in order to give you a chance. My first fic to get a lot of attention was “Glazed Donuts.” It was related to a recently posted video from the triplets, had an interesting title, and a unique plot. 

– More than just your work needs to be unique. Your account should feel like you, people wanna be able to tell the difference between people just by the aesthetic. Find dividers, gifs, symbols, etc. Anything that matches your vibe and is unique will peak interest! 

– Coming up with ideas can be hard for some people. You need to find what inspires you. Music, pictures, videos, anything! It’s a personal thing to figure out and at the end of the day, there’s plenty of prompts listed on Tumblr for any fandom and any fics. 

– Interact!!! People will not interact with you if you don’t feel like a real person. Most people are scared to reach out or make the first move, but it’s crucial in order to be a part of the community and for your work to actually gain more traction with reblogs and comments. Go into people’s inboxes! Comment on their posts! Get excited so they get excited with you!

Any and all questions are welcome in my inbox. I will use the [ #rose toy sturniolo tumblr ] in the hashtags of this post to answer any of these further. Simply click that # and more posts will pop up once I’ve answered more! 

random tutorials —

how to make a picture smaller and in the middle

[suzukiblu]

WIP WEDNESDAY GAME

Slimmed-down post/rules, but originally taken from @kedreeva.

It’s WIP Wednesday! This week’s theme is “hey I haven't written enough of my OC kiddos lately, let's do some of the cute OC kiddos we've been neglecting".

Here’s how it works:

I will post the file names of five seven(!!) WIPs, and will also post a snippet of new content from one of them to get the ball rolling.

Send me an ask with the name of one of the listed WIPs and I will write you a minimum of three sentences in that WIP in response!

Multiple requests are fine, but please send them in separate asks. Just a little easier for me to fill them that way, and also easier for people to read through the WIP tags smoothly later.

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

WIP names:

baby clone and all associated trauma (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Cassie makes a claybaby (( chrono || non-chrono ))

feral Kon and liger pups (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Jon gets cloned and is not okay about it (( chrono || non-chrono ))

the one where Kon isn't the father (( chrono || non-chrono ))

YJ accidental baby acquisition (( chrono || non-chrono ))

+ bonus new WIP to play around with, because your author has zero self-control 💜

grief-soup clonebaby (( meta post || art )) (( chrono || non-chrono ))

snippet from "grief-soup clonebaby":

“Wow, you’re super-dumb, huh,” the kid observes. Tim stares blankly at . . . her? Him? The kid doesn’t look at him, apparently too occupied with climbing their(?) way up to the top of the row of cloning tubes laid out against the basement wall for . . . some reason. The climbing. The climbing is for “some reason”. 

Tim knows the reason the cloning tubes are there. 

The kid is tiny, all sharp bones and skinny sinew, and looks about . . . seven? Eight? Something like that. They’re wearing one of Kon’s T-shirts and nothing else, which makes his skin prickle uncomfortably, and their hair is a big tangled riot of wavy strawberry blond(e?) fluff all tumbled halfway down their back and almost taking up more space than the kid does. 

He has no idea how they got down here. 

Is this another Klarion situation? Is this kid, like, some random chaos god or trickster spirit or something? Because he really doesn’t need that right now, especially not in the basement. The basement is a very, very bad place for a chaos god to happen. 

“What?” he says. 

“I figured out the Speed Force,” the kid says, peering up at the ceiling concerningly speculatively. “And also I figured out I was in VR. ‘Cuz I’m not stupid.” 

“. . . what?” Tim repeats weakly. 

The kid finally looks at him and eyes him with very intensely, distinctly yellow eyes.

“Bart and Kon both got grown up in VR,” they say derisively. “If you were gonna tell me how to be them, you shoulda maybe not told me that part.”

Tim stares at them.

[the-amazing-digital-guardians-au]

The Amazing Digital Circus: Guardian AU

My TADC AU is now up and running! I will be making a poster, character cards, general art, and possibly comics based around the storyline. Here’s the information!:

Description:

Caine is the ringmaster and ruler of The Amazing Digital Circus, but there are some things that even he can’t control. NPCs go rogue all the time, often acting out and trying to genuinely hurt the circus members as they go on adventures. Because of this, Caine has always appointed two circus members he deems the most worthy to protect him and others from danger. They have been different over the years (mainly due to abstractions), but currently Jax and Ragatha are his Guardians. The two of them are more privileged than the regular circus members: they are allowed to wield weapons, swear, indulge in vices, and the like as long as they do so in private, do their jobs well, and don’t disrupt the "family-friendly" atmosphere of the circus. Caine trusts them…or so he says. And to make matters worse, it looks like NPCs are forming an uprising to overthrow Caine, led by none other than a revived Gummigoo! Travel through the colorful world of TADC, but covered in a grimy layer of violence, corruption, and deception.

Who will the story focus on:

Caine

Abel

Pomni 

Jax

Ragatha

Kinger and Queenie

Princess Loo, Gummigoo, and other/more NPCs as the canon Digital Circus web series progresses

Genre:

Religious and psychological horror

Comedy

Action

Philosophical(?)

Content Warning - Anything produced for this AU may have any of the following elements:

Religious themes

Implied/referenced torture 

Blood (No gore, but this may change in the future)

Mental health issues 

War themes

Gambling

Alcohol and Drugs

Foul Language

This AU is recommended for ages 16+. The creator of this blog is 18.

…Wait, there’s more?!

FAQ:

Can I make fanart?

Yes, fanart is encouraged and always appreciated! Just make sure to credit me as the creator when needed. Do not use my creations if you are hateful/racist/sexist/anti-LGBTQ or just problematic in any other way. I don’t want what I make to be associated with these things. As for NSFW stuff…I would prefer if you didn’t. (Okay, well…now that I think about it, sure, go ahead, go crazy. But please don’t send it to me, I don’t really wanna see it. And tag it appropriately! Be mindful of others!) Ocs are allowed!! Ships (Canon x Canon, Canon x OC, OC x OC, whatever) are allowed! Tag me in anything as long as it’s SFW. Seriously, do whatever you want!

What are the religious themes?

Christianity. I am a Christian myself, but I also really enjoy religious horror and researching different religions. Does Pomni represent Jesus in this story? Not really. But, I will be using themes/images of Christianity (like angels, for example) to enhance the horror. I also like studying Japanese and Chinese mythological figures, purely out of interest. I will never try to push my beliefs onto the audience in any way. People can believe in whatever they want!

Are there any ships?

Bunnydoll (Jax x Ragatha) is the main ship. It is mostly implied/referenced and nothing overly romantic happens. The story focuses on their emotional bond since they are both Caine’s guardians. If you don’t like the ship, please don’t be rude to people who do. And if you do like the ship, don’t be rude to people who don’t! There’s enough hate on the internet already. Just be mindful that we all like different things, and have fun!

How will the story be told?

Through comics, probably. It’s easier for me to write things in a document (as a script) and then draw, so it will take time. I will also make art on the side that may or may not have canon information or events. It depends.

What inspired you?

The 70s (lots of yellow, orange and brown colors), Skinnamarink, religious horror, vintage Las Vegas, vintage snacks, and other random stuff. I have specific inspirations for different characters. But my inspiration to even start this project is definitely @/burrotello and The Amazing Digital Fight Club AU. It’s awesome!

Can I ask questions about characters, the story, etc?

Yes, but if it’s an answer I don’t want to reveal yet…well, we’ll see what happens. Sometimes, I will make drawings where a character reacts or responds!

[f1version]

Congratulations! Your works are amazing! You totally deserved this. Can i please request a headcannons about a secret reliationship between mick schumacher and a female driver?

KISSING IN SECRET ★ MSC47

pairing: mick schumacher x merc driver!reader ( she/her ) word count: 1679 warnings: mentions of misogyny !!!

2k celebration ★ general masterlist

Love comes easy to you and Mick—friends for too long, eager to make up for the time lost. What’s hard is the nature of your relationship; secrecy protecting your peace.

It begins at a pub in Austin, 2021. You were celebrating your first win for Mercedes, and even though his result was far from good, Mick decided to tag along. Then, all it took was a couple of shots, a bit of dancing, and a lonely corner to blur the lines of friendship and fall on each other’s lips. 

A week of tension, anxiety, and avoidance later, you were falling asleep in his arms, heavy breathing and soft touches all over your body.

Now your life is based on clandestine meetings, brushing fingers or stolen kisses, and a well put illusion of friendship. 

And no one ever thought much about your closeness, not until Mick moved to Mercedes in 2023. 

When people saw Mercedes’ star driver sharing so closely with the new guy—one whose performance didn’t leave people’s mouths,—they prayed for a big story. By the time Australia rolled by, the PR team requested distance while the cameras were on. 

And it wasn't as if these types of requests were foreign to you; misogyny was a thing after all, but you were never in love with George, or Lewis, or Alex, or Lance, or anyone but Mick. It was frustrating, but it didn't change a lot of things—especially because Mick was a reserve driver.

Of course, the topic would make it into your conversations: 

“Do you think it would be a disaster? I mean going public.” Mick asked almost out of nowhere. You were lying on his chest, freshly showered after a disappointing Austrian GP. “Maybe. It will most likely follow us forever.” You said, and he sighed, “Do you think the team would be okay with it?” “I think they care about us enough.”

There were stories about this. Drivers within the same teams having such a strong relationship (let it be romantic or platonic, who knows) that they destroy not only their’s but the team’s trust. 

Both of you believe Lewis knows. Your only evidence being the small pep talk he gave you moments before his last race in the sport, in 2022. Something about being selfish, about how this sport will always judge, so you might as well take what you want.

You wanted everything. To be selfish, to take your time, to figure everything out first, but also to just be reckless. You didn’t tell him that; you just expressed your gratitude.

The European arm makes it a bit easier. Motorhomes are used, and hotel rooms become unnecessary. It’s as simple as walking into a room and not caring about avoiding people in the hallway; your only excuse is your well-known friendship. 

You love spending nights laughing, kissing, crying, and everything in between. 

You were reckless, and learned to be as careful as you needed after the George incident™

It happened in Belgium; the race and debrief ending hours ago. You were in your room, boyfriend sneaking in to talk about the race, which ended in a very lovely make-out session. And that’s when (clueless) George decided to knock on your door. 

Mick ran to your closet, making a mess of your race suits to be able to close the door. You, absolutely terrified of the Paddock’s Gossip Girl, threw a blanket over your body, taking a deep breath before facing George’s comments of: “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” and “Also hit by a truck,” and “Need help with the suits?” 

You rolled your eyes and had him complain about the car with you for forty-seven minutes. Mick could barely feel his legs after that one. 

At some point, the team starts talking. More about Mick having a crush than anything—especially since he doesn't deny it. But it’s mostly a joke; no one takes it too seriously until that teasing reaches Toto’s ears. 

For a second, you were ready to be called to his office and hear him talk about how he supported whoever you chose to love, but that if someone or something was making you uncomfortable, you must tell him. 

You had always been grateful for those talks. In the end, you knew they were there because of how ruthless the media had been in 2020, after your first dating rumors with a driver—with George, out of all people, your teammate then and your teammate now. George who had (and has) a girlfriend. It had been an awful sophomore season, to say the least.

This was different, though. This was not the media making up things; this was his own team talking about his reserve driver having a crush on his driver. This could be a different story. 

Here’s the thing: You had never heard the teasing in person, you knew of it because of Mick. You spent nights laughing at it together, making up responses he could give to hard launch your relationship. They never got out of the coziness of your bed, but it was fun. 

That particular day wasn’t Mick gossiping, that day you were there, and it caught you off guard. A good off-guard, you were ready to laugh it off. 

But Toto was also there, mistaking your surprise for discomfort. And so you weren’t called to his office, you stood next to him during a 20-minute talk on professionalism, respect, and boundaries.

You were grateful, not knowing where that joke could end up… But still, you and Mick laughed the whole night. 

Also, I would be lying if I said it didn’t set off an alarm, bringing to the table a thought you had been trying to avoid: the consequences of public. The need for security.

Consequences mean a lot to people, especially in your sport. A driver’s health could be destroyed by not acknowledging them after all.

For you, consequences meant having the media hang on to it forever to diminish your work. It means being called names, be harassed by fans. Means being accused of taking advantage of your power. It could even mean closing doors to other female drivers because misogyny is a thing.

For Mick, it means another reason for his place in Mercedes to be questioned. “Who knows how long they have been dating?” “She and his last name gave him a place.” It means being portrayed as an exploiter, his relationship reduced to an unethical plan to get back on track. Means being praised at your expense.

But there are pros. There’s a necessity to continue changing people’s minds, to be happy, selfish, and own it.

Summer break gets in the way of those conversations though...

Breaks are your favorite part of the year (as a couple). You either stay in Switzerland or avoid the so-called “hard launch islands,” where drivers pretend obliviousness towards snapping pictures of them and their partners.

(Sebastian Vettel gave it the name by the way)

“What if we soft launch?” You asked one morning, scrolling through Pinterest and looking at all the ways a soft launch could happen. Mick choked on his drink, coughing a bit before answering, “I’m so sorry, babe, but what?” “Hear me out! We can have people know we are in a relationship, but they don't have to know it’s us yet. It can be a years-long soft launch if we want.” 

Mick stared at you for a whole minute, smirk following it. He thought it was brilliant, laughing while trying to properly kiss you. 

“We have to tell PR, tho.”

Two weeks later, you called on a meeting with PR, lawyers, and Toto, they had no idea what would be discussed. 

Toto's eyes went wide as he saw you and Mick enter the room together, and everyone followed his motion after you briefly explained the situation.

Your PR manager spoke first, “I won't lie and tell you it’s going to be easy; both of you understand how cruel the media is, but I also don’t think it will be as hard as we imagine... if you go public, of course.”

Then Toto started talking about how, to some extent, he understood your worries. How “People will talk sh*t all the time; you need to unconditionally support each other so it doesn’t kill you.” He gave the support talk and visited a couple of logistical questions.

Five days later, Mick had soft-launched his girlfriend, and five weeks after that, you had a boyfriend. 

Eventually, you told some friends (those who didn’t know already.) 

George was 100% not surprised. He grins and shouts, "Knew it!” and suggests a double date with him and Carmen. (To that plan, other couples are added—Alex, Lance, Esteban, etc.)

It turns out, with the help of your team and the correct people, everything becomes easier. From interacting in front of the cameras to booking rooms.

One of your favorite things is the teasing your friends/colleagues give Mick after you score a podium. He starts giggling and muttering about how proud he is of you, cheeks turning pink and eyes unable to leave you.

Mick loves sitting next to you during debriefing, letting you play with his hand under the table when anxiety strikes. 

It feels good. Not to be so secret around the paddock. 

“You know I love you, right?” “Yeah, but I love you more.” “Okay, competitive!”

Sometimes you want everyone to know. Surprise the world with Mick being the guy on your Instagram, and Mick feeling the need to shout in everyone’s faces that his girlfriend wasn't the model they speculated to be.

The third year of your relationship, 2024, is the hardest. There are eyes on you all season, commentary becomes stronger as you fight with Max on track, and so rumors of your relationship with Mick arise. 

Mick hates everything being said about you and eventually can’t hold back the need to be loud about it. And so do you. 

Both of you want to be selfish. Take whatever you want out of this sport. Who cares what people say.

[paperbackribs]

The Rising Sun (1) | Ao3 Fic tags: shapeshifters, mysteries, explicit rating, possessiveness Fic summary: Eddie is confronted by what it means to be a monster and will have to decide how far he will embrace it to protect the ones he loves.

Eddie can’t put his finger on it, but he thinks that Steve’s expression is off and figures that the romance woes of him and Nancy are still ongoing, past the heat of the Upside Down where he’d begrudgingly watched the two of them gravitate around each other like the heroes of an action movie.

The reminder of the picture-perfect couple from months ago has Eddie’s own jaw briefly clenching and he leans into his curiosity like picking at a scab. A little painful but it’s there and he’s got to know what’s under it. He sways too far into Steve’s space, the sweet and spicy scent of the smoke coating his tongue and Steve’s eyes widen imperceptibly.

Eddie relishes in the satisfaction of catching him off guard as he asks, “The little lady still giving you grief? I thought you two lovebirds would’ve buried the hatchet by now.” He waggles his eyebrows, feeling like a letch and an idiot, but he wants to know. Has to know. “Or buried something.”

The gold in Steve’s hazel eyes dulls and he leans back, “Real mature, Munson. No,” he rejects, “nothing has been buried. Nor do I want it to, just for the record.”

Eddie scoffs, unable to believe it, “Sure.”

Frustration sloughs off of Steve’s frame and he curses softly before flicking his cigarette away; he turns back to Eddie with his hands falling to his hips, “Forget Nancy, we need to talk about us.”

A hint of ice blooms in Eddie’s gut: he’s pushed too far. Again. And now Steve’s going to tell him that he’s sick of Eddie picking at the scabs, picking at him, and if the golden boy wants him gone then the rest of the party is going to be behind Eddie being booted out of the group.

Eddie of old may have scoffed and loudly told Steve to fuck off before he has a chance to do it himself. But the sharp shadows inside these days, the pieces that barely cling together like fraying wire, have him inching away, waiting for the blow rather than fighting back.

“Just say it,” he grits out. “I already know, so just say it.”

The tension radiating from Steve softens and Eddie bitterly notes that he’s already making it easier for Steve to reject him. Practice makes perfect after all.

“You do? I thought...” Steve stutters, brow creasing in confusion like he’s the first person to want ‘the freak’ to leave, “I didn’t think you could have known. It’s not like it’s a normal conclusion to come to.”

Eddie barks out a laugh, “Yeah, okay. Sure. Let’s say that’s true.” He gestures with a sarcastic wave of his arm, almost bowing as if deferring to his liege, “Please, go ahead — let’s get this over with so we can all say ‘wow, what a surprise.’”

“Okay,” Steve grips the back of his shirt with a scowl, “you don’t have to be an asshole about it, but yeah let me just—” And with that he swiftly pulls off his shirt from behind before reaching down to deftly unbutton his jeans.

Eddie stumbles, gobsmacked, as Steve gets naked. Toeing off his shoes before, in one swift move, shucking off the denim, dropping them to puddle at his feet as he strips them of his socks, leaving him clad in only a tight pair of boxer briefs.

The green material of it clings to his thick, hairy thighs and Eddie desperately clenches at his cane in lieu of honest-to-God whimpering because he’s faced once more, so fucking unfairly, by that wide chest again, absolutely covered in a thick pelt and making Steve look like some goddamn Playgirl centrefold.

Eddie’s pretty sure he has a lumberjack-themed version stashed under his bed that Steve would easily trump in a heartbeat. A heartbeat that is currently loudly pounding in his ears as fantasies since Lover’s Lake come storming back, coating those jagged pieces inside with a patina of lust that hides the broken mosaic for a brief moment, reminding Eddie of a bolder self.

He gulps around a salivating mouth and finally lifts his eyes to Steve who shifts nervously, one bare foot to the other and he seems almost beseeching, pleading, and Eddie wonders if Steve’s going to ask him to suck his dick. Because he’d be willing to bury his pride for the opportunity. He’d hate himself afterwards, but this is a dream come true.

And then Steve says in a terrible echo to the start of Eddie’s night, “Ready?” and the trap of the dream snaps close, locking Eddie in a nightmare that has haunted him for weeks now.

Chapter