#((this will probably be how things are from now on though... don't have time and motivation to draw a lot))

[badkarma1998]

Okay, Im about to get a lil long winded and rambley, so I just wanna start by saying:

If this resonates with you in any way, I highly encourage you to read the full paper.

And now dont mind me while I have a moment here:

So, I have personally been debating internally the idea of gender and how I relate to it, and it's been bugging me for a good while that nothing fit. And THIS FITS!!!

And I know I have mutuals and followers who also describe something like this.

I've been joking for years that I'm "woman by convince" or Ive commented on not feeling cis but not feeling strongly enough to transiston in any way. Recently I've adopted referring to myself as nonbinary, because it's a little closer to my experience than being cis, but it's also still not quite right?

And then I read this paper and, guys I havent felt this way since I was a confused and broken feeling teenager who found the word "asexual". Its that feeling of finding language to describe your internal complexity, and finding out that yes other people also feel that way

Also I want to highlight this bit, because I think it hits on why I keep coming back to questioning my gender despite feeling overall apathetic about the whole thing:

Even in saying that I'm nonbinary (or if i adopted the term "agender") its like when someone asks you what your favorite food or favorite color is and you don't have one. So you just say something because for some reason you can't say you dont have one. (An experience I associate strongly with being ace also: aka being asked "who do you have a crush on?" When you dont have a crush on anyone)

Similarly, applying any gendered label (even one that implicates a lack of gender) feels like it reduces the whole of me down to an oversimplification.

Which, granted, is useful for every reason any label is useful. Given the current societal structure we exist in, these labels help us try to roughly understand one another through our limited scope of language. For this reason, I know that logically this revalation likely aligns someone like me through an outside lense as being "agender". But it doesn't make "agender" feel any more like a rounded oversimplification of an internal complexity.

I also want to highlight these quotes from the paper, though honsetly yall should just read it, every quote from every individual interviewed touches on some aspect of what I've been wrestling with about this

But specifically:

For me personally, I think "woman" is probably a term that's not too far off from my particular permutation of gender (such that it is). I like how she/her pronouns sound the best, I usually prefer a femme presentation, and I don't mind being perceived as a woman. At the same time, there are narratives tied into the concept of womanhood that are...repellant, maybe?...to me, … [including] woman as mother, woman as nurturer, and woman as romantic/sexual partner. I don't vibe at all with the word womanhood, either. To put it another way, I think that much of my resonance with women comes from socialization and shared experiences with other people who use that label rather than perhaps any inherent shared feeling. … Of course I support and respect people who feel gender to be a strong thing in their life but personally I feel like it's not real and basically a construction. At the same time, I don't feel like I'm doing much that's disruptive to dominant constructions of gender, so a term like nonbinary or genderqueer feels incorrect. So yes, perhaps detached is a good term. … Let me put it this way: if somebody came up to me and insisted that I was a man, I would disagree with them. If somebody came up to me and just insisted that I wasn’t a woman, I wouldn't care. … Personally, I'm not sure that I intrinsically feel much in the place where gender should be. (Amanda, 24)

Because it sums up exactly how I view my relationship with my gender, specifically as an afab person

And

Some respondents indicated lingering gender attachments—in the midst of broader gender detachment—because they did not see alternative language to convey their relationship with gender. For example, Lydia said:

I consider myself gender queer. I mostly use female pronouns (she/her) since that’s easiest for me, but I don’t feel especially connected with being a woman other than my appearance, which indicates to other people that I am a woman. The problem I have is that there doesn’t seem to be a descriptor for gender that exactly describes how I feel or see myself. Being considered a woman doesn’t cause me distress so I usually just consider myself a queer woman since queer is kind of all encompassing but woman just feels slightly off the mark for me. (Lydia, 31)

However, when I later told Lydia that I had heard similar things from other asexual individuals I had interviewed and asked if she felt detached from gender (thereby offering her alternative language), she enthusiastically said that she did.

Detached from gender at large is a great way to describe it. It's not that I experience any kind of dysphoria like someone in the trans community might feel; I just don't feel especially attached to femininity or masculinity. Mostly, I feel kind of neutral about gender as a whole. … Even calling myself non-binary or agender doesn't feel right, other than in philosophically. I don't really think about myself in terms of gender, and trying to fit a label on myself seems kind of unnecessary. The labels that were more or less assigned to me at birth work well enough and don't really cause me any discomfort so I go with it, but they don't really explain me. The closest thing I can come up with is queer since it explains that I don't fit the norm of gender or sexuality but doesn't say anything specific. Since I don't even know how I would describe my gender other than through a long explanation like this, queer is the best I can come up with. (Lydia, 31)

Because again, it just describes so well my feelings too, especially about why i default to using the gendered language we have and being fine with she/her pronouns, even though something about them still feels wrong.

And as I was reading all of this, I couldn't help but feel like it just clicked. Of course being ace and being "detached for gender" would overlap. Which, I kinda stumbled into explaining why to my friends really well, at least for myself personally:

Honestly, part of why im finding this particular paper so intriguing is because I see my gender quite similarly to how i see my sexuality.

I do not understand sexual desire or attraction the way that I have been told is inherit. Sex is a thing, it is an object to me, one that I have picked up and fiddled with, but not one that is attached to me the way it is to my peers. And gender is much the same. Conceptually these objects, these tools of sex and gender and attraction, I am told that every living person is born with them attached and as important to functionality as an organ. Yet here they are laying on a table before me and either I choose to use them the same way I choose to participate in a hobby, or they are picked up by others and stuck to my being in ways that range from neutral to painful

And like, I honestly dont even know what my goal is with sharing all this here. I just feel such a catharsis and sense of being seen, and I want to share that with anyone else who feels the same.

i feel so seen!!

(twitter thread)

[finelinevogue]

i had a thought for a part 2 for the 'ridiculous' lando fic (obvs don't have to do it if it's crap) but maybe you could write about them being together like a year later at the next monaco gp and her friends who were being horrible to her like trying to get back in touch with y/n so they could get gp tickets because shes going out with lando

i genuinely love all your fics though, i've been here for timeeee ahhaha

makes sense to be with you

yesss let’s do it my love!! and don’t you worry, i know you’ve been here with me since the beginning <33 i never forget a name!

pairing - lando norris x girlfriend!reader

word count - ~2k

It’s race day.

The nerves were high for everyone. Sometimes you felt like your nerves were even higher than Lando’s - which was a silly thing to think.

Lando had driven you to the Monaco Grand Prix this morning, spare hand on your thigh the entire journey. You had gotten ready together this morning and Lando had calmed your nerves with a few soft morning kisses in between stolen moments.

Pulling up outside the venue though, the tension felt high.

Lando stopped the car and sat with you for a moment.

“You good?” He asked, not letting your hand go.

“Yeah. Just thinking about this time last year.” You rested your head on the back of the headrest and turned to face your boyfriend.

He watched you with a handsome smile.

“A lot’s changed since then.”

“I know.”

He chuckled which caused you to laugh back.

“I’m nervous but I’m excited for this weekend.” He told you honestly.

“You’re going to be amazing.”

He looked from you to the crowds outside the car, snapping photos and recording videos of the two of you. It was busy out there, but nothing that the two of you couldn’t handle.

It had been difficult the past year trying to fit in beside Lando and keep up with his pace of life, but he had been so patient and caring with you. Because of him the last year had been easier than it could’ve been.

Your phone beeped.

You chuckled to yourself as you opened the WhatsApp notifications.

“Who is it?” Lando asked, peering over your shoulder because he knew you’d have nothing to hide. “Oh they can fuck right off.”

“Lando!” You laughed.

It was from your ex friends and their whole group. They had added you to their group chat last minute, knowing they needed you for what they wanted.

Rochelle : How are we supposed to get tickets for the Monaco GP?

Eva : Let’s ask Y/N now she’s with Lando

Jemima : so true

Rochelle : OMG yes!!!!

[ Y/N has been added to the chat ]

Eva : Hey Y/N! Long time no speak!

“Do they realise that you can see all the conversations above?” Lando scoffed beside you.

“Probably not.”

“Bunch of….” Lando started to mutter.

“Hey, don’t,” You stopped him before he could say something he would later regret, “I’m okay.”

You deleted the group chat from your phone and left it alone, placing your phone in your lap as you squeezed Lando’s hand tightly. You used your other hand to guide his face to yours.

“I’m okay.” You promised him.

He nodded.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like them though.”

“Enough now. Don’t let them ruin your day.” You softly brushed your thumb over his cheek and he leant into it a little more.

“Don’t want them to ruin yours either.”

“They can’t.” You shook your head.

Lando was confident with your answer and leaned in to give you a soft kiss. Neither of you noticed the influx of camera flashes as you kissed because both of you were too into each other.

He had this very special, unique, talent of making you feel like the only girl in the world.

“I love you.” He whispered close to you.

You kissed him again quickly this time, “I love you too. Now go win.”

“Don’t give me too much to do.” He joked, pulling away from you to continue the day and win this damn race for you.

• 🏎️💨 •

He fucking won.

He actually did it.

You had a pair of headphones wrapped around your neck as you cupped your hands over your mouth. You were in a state of shock and wonder.

Your Lando had done it. He had won Monaco and part of you liked to believe he had done it for you.

Engineers and teammates alike were all cheering in the garage. This was a huge win for them too.

Everyone swarmed outside to go and meet Lando and congratulate him. You weren’t sure whether to follow or to meet him later.

Your phone beeped in your pocket.

[ Y/N has been added to the chat ]

Rochelle : Congrats on Lando’s win Y/N 🍾

Eva : Yeah totally! Any big plans for tonight?

Jemima : OMG yesss we should all totally meet tonight & celebrate!

Rochelle : YEASSSS

You sighed, biting your lip as you questioned how to respond.

They had really texted at the wrong moment because this was supposed to be your time celebrating with Lando, not feeling bad for people who used to be horrid to you that you still sort of felt bad for.

You texted back, wanting this to be done.

You: hi :) thank you for congratulating lando! still not ready to be friends with you guys yet, but thanks for thinking of me.

A minute later you had been removed from the group chat.

You shook your head in disappointment.

Yes, they had been the ones to get you an invite onto a Monaco yacht party where you had first met Lando but that’s all they had ever done for you. The rest of the time they had been the type of friends to bring you down. You had often been the ‘one of these friends is not like the others’ friend.

Lando had helped you realise that you didn’t need them in your life and had supported you when you’d cut them out of your life.

It stung that now all they wanted you for was your connection to Lando and his fame.

It made you feel used.

No doubt Lando often felt the same. Hopefully never from you.

You pocketed your phone, remembering you were missing all the celebrations outside.

Before you could leave the garage to walk around to the podium, you heard Lando call your name.

He was jogging down the road and dodging people who were trying to give him a hug or a congratulatory handshake. His eyes were dead-set on you.

His hair was sweaty and his face was beet-red.

He looked so good though, with his jumpsuit folded over at his waist and his black fireproofs on underneath. He ran a hand through his messy hair as he approached you.

You took off the headphones around your neck, dropping them onto the table.

Lando reached you first, picking you up around your waist and spinning you around excitedly. Your arms held tightly around his neck with your face smushed into his head. He smelt of sweat and hair products.

You could feel him laugh into your chest and you couldn’t help but let the few tears that wanted to fall soak into his hair.

“I’m so proud of you.”

He squeezed you tighter, slowly stopping the spinning to put you safely back on the floor.

“You did it. You fucking did it.”

“I did it.” He smiled so big.

You untucked your head from where it had been hiding, but keeping your arms securely around his neck for closeness. His stayed around your waist.

You used one hand to brush some loose curls back into formation.

“Knew you could do it.”

“It’s ‘cause my lucky charm was watching on.” He nodded his head to you.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“The Monaco Grand Prix, honey.” You whispered excitedly like you couldn’t quite believe it. “What more could you want?”

He raised his eyebrows at you like that was a stupid question. You rolled your eyes before he could say something ridiculously lovely.

You tucked your head under his chin and moved your arms down so you could hug him around his waist. He hugged you closer, kissing the top of your head a few times before letting the moment sink in with his favourite person stood beside him.

“Lando! We need you for the podium!”

“Two minutes!”He shouted back, not giving you up.

“No… Now!”

Lando sighed loudly. You untucked yourself.

“Go. I’ll be right there. Enjoy this moment, okay?” You cupped both of his cheeks and brought his face down to kiss him softly. He deserved it.

liked by charlesleclerc, lewishamilton and 294,937 others

yourinstagram enjoy this moment 🍯🧡

view all 78,937 comments

fan1 INSANE!!!!!

fan2 we 🧡 you y/n

oscarpiastri Well done mate!

fan3 🍯 because y/n calls lando honey?!!?????

♥️ by the author

fan4 LANDO FOR THE WIN

fan5 i love them ur honour

rochelle0110 Congrats 🥂 Let’s celebrate?

fan6 I WANT TO CELEBRATE WITH THEM

yourinstagram @/fan6 ur very welcome to xo

lando Going to enjoy this one for a long time to come (especially with you) 🧡

♥️ by the author

• 🏎️💨 •

Lando opened the door for you and held a hand out to help you leave his car.

He passed the car keys off to a valet and then returned his attention to you. He had already watched you get ready and had litterally sat next to you in the car on the way here, but seeing you step out of his car in that black dress made him want to drop to the floor and pray.

The paparazzi went crazy for you both, begging for a photo.

Unfortunately Lando wasn’t interested in giving them the time of day as he was still angry about previous things the tabloids had said about you and him.

He held onto you hand as you walked past everyone and into the club venue.

It was celebration night, post-race, and it was going to be a big one.

You didn’t need to show ID upon entry because everyone, especially bouncers, knew who the F1 people were in Monaco.

Lando gave the bouncers a handshake and wished them a goodnight whilst still holding on to you. He also slipped them a piece of paper and asked them to read it carefully.

“What was that?” You asked as you followed behind him.

“My ‘no entry’ list.”

“What?” You stopped short, your high heels digging into the floor as you did so. Lando bounced back towards you.

“I’ve asked that certain people are denied entry.” He shrugged.

“Like who?”

“Does it matter?” He asked.

“Yes. I don’t want to start some sort of feud.”

“Well, they started it when they decided to sell a story to the tabloids last year which made our relationship difficult for a while.” He was growing frustrated you could tell.

“Oh my God, will you let it go?” You stressed, dropping his hand to which he looked visibly offended by.

“No, Y/N, I won’t. They’re a bunch of arseholes and what? You want them to be a part of my celebration? I don’t think so.” He scoffed.

“I just don’t want this to be a big thing for us forever. Just let it go.”

He shook his head again before heading into the club. Without you.

Fuck.

You didn’t mean to get into an argument about it, but ever since your ex friends sold a story about Lando being a misogynist prick to the tabloids there had been a rift between everyone.

You had immediately dropped your friends and Lando had done damage control for weeks after.

You’d never believed the tabloids, but it was Lando that felt like he had to prove that he was nothing like what they were saying he was. Lando thought he had to make it up to you, as if he’d done something wrong. So it was easy to understand why they still got under his nerves.

You just wished they didn’t still taunt him.

You wanted him you find peace from all of this now like you had.

You followed him into the club a few minutes later, trying to calm your nerves after your stupid argument.

The club had cheered and roared when Lando had stepped into the main room, leaving you to slip in from the side unnoticed.

The room was dimly lit with orange strobe lights dancing around. A layer of smoke filtered through the air, along with the smell of vapes and sticky alcohol on the floor.

The music was all for Lando. The playlist included all his favourite songs.

You walked around the edge so you could go and grab a quick drink from the bar.

“Limoncello spritz please.” You asked the bartender.

A couple minutes later you had your drink in hand and slipped back into the corner of the room, a standing table available for you to rest your drink on.

All of Lando’s friends, family and fellow F1 mates were here celebrating. Lando was so loved and it was amazing to see.

He was currently stood on a raised platform with Oscar by his side. They were both bopping and singing out of tune to one of his favourite songs. You smiled as you watched on.

Then Lando caught your eyes.

He made his way off the platform and walked over to you. The crowd easily parted for him.

He didn’t stop until he was right in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” He said.

You nodded.

“I’m a dickhead sometimes.”

You pursed your lips to stop from smiling.

“But I love you too much to fight over something so boring.”

You nodded in agreement.

“So will you accept my apology and come dance with me? I did win the Monaco Grand Prix for you after all.”

You held out your hand like it was a white flag.

He took it was a grin, only to be shocked by the force of you pulling him closer so you could give him a proper kiss.

Your arms snaked around his neck and his felt their way across your waist, both of you sinking into each other and letting the rest of the room drift away.

You tilted your head to let him have a little extra room to kiss you and he followed. You could feel him smirking into the kiss, but he didn’t pull away. Not when he had you like this.

You tugged on his curls a little and his mouth opened with a gasp, allowing you to kiss him deeper. He tasted like some sort of berry flavoured alcohol, because it was known he was still a kid at heart. It made the kiss all the more delectable.

He pulled away breathlessly.

You tried to go in for another, still in a love haze.

“Later.” He whispered against your lips, but giving you another kiss all the same.

“Now.” You argued.

“Dance with me first.”

“Okay.” You tucked your face into his neck and gave him a kiss. He felt like home when you held him like this. Safe and comforting, even though you were in the middle of a club.

“Love you.” He spoke softly but loud enough for you to hear.

“Love you right back.”

“We okay?” He double checked.

“We’re okay.” You nodded. “Now let’s celebrate!”

liked by yourinstagram, mclaren and 1.7 million others

lando We won 🏆

view all 365,687 comments

fan1 no lando, y/n won fr

fan2 THAT SHOULD BE ME

fan3 the hand placements… oh i’m dead

yourinstagram go go lando!!! so proud 🍯

♥️ by the author

lando @/yourinstagram My no 1 fan 🧡

lewishamilton 🧡

oscarpiastri Where did you & Y/N go….??

lando @/oscarpiastri 👀

fan4 deserved 👏

fan5 not y/n and lando flirting in the commentd

fan6 those are literally my parents wdym

[cakypa120]

May I request more Billy X Jason

Like captain marvel giving all the justice league members a thing that when they’re in danger, it will teleport them to the rock of eternity.

Jason gets injured and Batman use the thing, 

Cue 18 year old Billy freaking out seeing Jason, who looks like a fully grown man, even though he’s only like 19 at best (I think) and

Jason: “ where am I?”

Billy

Jason: “damn, Roy was right demons are hot”

Batman was panicking. Jason was hurt. Seriously. And they wouldn't get help for a long time. Bruce's hands were shaking as he covered the wounds on his side. He couldn't lose Jason, his son, again. In moments like these, he understood why people prayed to something, hoping for something. Bruce was willing to give the Gods or anyone else anything if it would save his son.

A memory suddenly popped into his mind:

All the heroes were holding a strange crystal in their hands. Marvel smiled brightly at them.

Hal: What is this?

Marvel: Emergency help. If you are badly injured or trapped. You just need to break this crystal. It will teleport you to the Rock of Eternity. All your wounds will freeze in time and you will fall into a temporary sleep. I will find you, heal you and send you back to Earth. This is insurance. But if you get there unharmed, then I ask you not to wander too much. And listen to those who live there.

Batman: How reliable is this?

Marvel: One hundred percent! It can teleport you from any point in space or dimension.

Superman: That's interesting.

Diana: Thank you, brother, for such a valuable gift.

Marvel: You are like family to me! Of course I will worry about your safety.

Bruce takes out the small crystal. This was his last chance. He places the crystal in Jason's hand and squeezes until he hears a crunch. Jason's body is covered in golden light and his son crumbles into golden dust. Bruce looks at the place where his son lay and takes a deep breath. Now all that's left is to wait.

Billy jumps in surprise when he feels something teleport onto the Rock. Someone used his crystal? That was bad!! He runs to the teleportation site in a panic and freezes when he sees a bloody figure. Isn't that Red Hood? Shit, he's seriously hurt. Billy rolls up his sleeves. This was going to be a long job.

Jason wakes up with a groan. His whole body ached. The last thing he remembered was being shot and B holding his wound. Was he dead? Was he in hell?

?: You're awake! You better not move yet, your body needs to rest from all the magic I used on you.

Jason looks up and sees a young man with black hair and bright blue eyes. All thoughts disappear from his head when he sees this young man. Why was he wearing something that looked like ancient Greek clothes? (Billy had blood on his clothes. The Rock didn't have any other clothes. So he wore what he had.)

Jason: I died?

?: No, although you tried very hard. So, how did you get the crystal?

Jason: I don't know what crystal you're talking about. Maybe B did it. Damn, you're hot.

?: Sorry what?

Jason: I'm a little hot!! Is that normal?

The boy frowns and approaches him. Jason smells the rain. It calms him down a little. A warm palm touches his forehead and Jason is ready to melt just from that touch.

?: You're a little hotter than usual. But that's okay. A good night's sleep will help you recover faster.

Jason: Why do I feel so sleepy?

?: Your body wants to rest. You have to let it.

Jason: You're probably a demon. A very hot demon. Roy's right... I...don't want...to fall asleep...

Hands gently lay him down on the bed and Jason falls asleep.

He wakes up in Bruce's mansion. He remembers that boy and his face instantly turns red. He told him such nonsense!! Will that beautiful boy want to talk to him again?!?! Jason takes a pillow and screams into it while kicking the blanket.

Dick: Jaybird! You're awake!!

Jason doesn't answer. He wants to die from all the shame that's washed over him in waves.

Dick: Jay?

Jason: Who brought me here?

Dick: Captain Marvel! He said your wounds were healed and all you needed was sleep.

Jason freezes. Captain Marvel. That boy looked so much like Captain Marvel. Could that really be his son. Jason gets out of bed, ignoring Dick's protests. He goes down to the Batcave and finds Bruce talking to Captain Marvel. The hero in red was explaining something to Bruce.

Jason: Captain!!

Marvel: Oh, you're awake! How are you feeling? Your wounds were pretty bad.

Jason: I want to date your son! Give me your blessing!!

Marvel and Bruce freeze. Marvel turns pale and teleports away. Bruce stares at Jason in shock. Dick falls to the floor. Tim, who was sitting off to the side, chokes on his coffee.

[the-fyre-flie]

Billy Batson, but his only remaining memory of his family is not a locket but a small plushie tiger. His name is written in his mother's handwriting on the tag, faded, torn, and sewn back on with shaking, desperate hands, a child unwilling to let the memories of his parents fade with time. The fur is patchy, the tail has scraps of fabric up and down it to prevent stuffing from falling out, and the glass eyes have long since been replaced with chipped buttons stolen off jackets. But it's his, and he adores it. The thing goes everywhere with him.

At first, the Justice League is confused as to why a grown hero like Captain Marvel would still be holding onto what is clearly a childhood plushie, however due to the Captains magical nature, they don't actually know if the plushie is 30 years old, 300 years old, or 3,000 years old. And honestly? They just feel a little sad that Captain feels the need to bring this ratty old toy everywhere with him, like he's still carrying memories too heavy for his shoulders. Which he is. It felt far easier to drag the burden of loss and time beside him than face it down.

One day, the tiger plushie gets lost. Misplaced. Probably destroyed, seeing as the Hall of Justice is smoldering ruins, and that was the last place anyone saw it. And Captain is inconsolable. No attempt at offering a replacement is even being heard, the sheer frustration and sadness in his voice drowning out everyone else's. His hands, though magically healed, get ripped apart by rubble and glass, dirt under every nail as he digs through what remains of the Hall. Each tear tells a story. Of being alone, of having no family, no real mentor, of being expected to fit into an ever changing world. How the tiger was his only constant. He had no permanent home or food source or even friends, but the tiger was always there. And now it's gone. And now Billy has to cope with being a child alone in a world that will leave him behind very quickly if he isn't constantly fighting for his place.

When he gets called in by Batman for a "review of his behavior after the events of the attack," Billy is certain he's being kicked out. No hero team wants a member that flies off the handle and freaks out over a toy. However, when he gets there, Batman is pointly staring at a slightly singed tiger plushie, the new rip along its stomach repaired with water-fire-stab-explosion-neurotoxin-shark-proof fabric. Once Billy had stormed off to cry, Bruce had spent his time personally digging through the rubble, found the toy, and fixed it up a bit. Even took the time to restuff it, leaving Billy with a fully intact plump tiger plushie to reunite with.

"Perhaps your friend would be safer if left in a trusted person's care." Bruce's words were an offer. "Robin already has experience with exotic animals."

Of course, Bruce knew Billy's identity as a homeless little boy. He was a child once. He knew what it felt like to lose something so important and be willing to do anything to get it back. He could recognize a scared 8 year old because he used to be one.

[karasbroken]

I'm reblogging this in the hope that it might find someone else with my particular weird sleep issues/abilities. Because it's really hard to even ask for a sleep study when I have weird magical sleep powers rather than a problem. What I know about my sleep, below.

Both of my parents also had/have weird relationships to sleep, similar to mine, but not as extreme.

I'm not a super sleeper, I used to need seven hours most nights, and to catch up on sleep on the weekends, like most people, but I don't now.

I was diagnosed with bipolar 2 in my 20s. I tried (the wrong) medications before my diagnosis that made me crash out, so I've never been medicated for being bipolar, though I've considered it a couple times when my usual symptom management stopped working.

I used to sleep very little or stay up all night when I was hypomanic, but I also used to mostly be depressive so it stood out. The older I got, the more highs I had and the fewer lows, and I also started sleeping less all the time, but there was a lot going on (young kids are bad for sleeping) so I don't think they're related.

I have slept less and less with every decade. Per my Fitbit, I'm down to about 5 a night on average, from almost 8 in my 20s.

But I'm not tired all the time. I don't even use an alarm unless I have something important happening, because I'll wake up on my own fully rested between 5a-6a most days, regardless of whether I went to bed at midnight or at 3am.

Caffeine does nothing for me that I can tell, but I also don't need it, I wake up immediately, fully awake no matter how much or little I slept.

I also don't really get jet lag, and Daylight Savings Time doesn't bother me at all either direction.

I can just skip sleeping for a night when I need to get things done for work or before a trip.

In fact I do it for fun occasionally, though I struggle if I try to do it more than one day in a row. (In college I stayed up for 3 days to see if I could, started to get visual hallucinations the 4th day and stopped.)

I'm definitely one of those people who delays/denies sleep deliberately because I feel like I don't get enough time for me and my hobbies during the day.

Probably because on some level I'm chronically sleep deprived, I can also sleep basically whenever and wherever I want. So I never suffer from insomnia, I just sometimes choose not to sleep.

I have terrible sleep hygiene. I have to force myself to "go to bed" and almost never do it. I mostly just keep going with whatever I'm doing and just fall unconscious at some point.

I sometimes do biphasic sleep, where I'll sleep from 10p to 12a then wake up and not want to sleep, so I stay up until 2 or 3 or 4a and then go back to sleep until 6a. This often feels awesome, but it's hard to sleep that early unless I've stayed up all night the night before.

Basically I hate sleep and think it's stupid, so I do as little of it as I can, and it for some reason works for me. But I'm probably dooming myself to dementia or something.

(Don't worry, I don't drive or operate any other dangerous equipment in my daily life, so if I am impaired from sleep dep and just don't realize it, I'm not endangering anyone.)

one of the most enlightening realizations ive had was finding out that non-24 hour circadian rhythm people were a pretty large group and most of us have oddly similar cycles of usually around 28hr internal "days" and this masquerades as "insomnia" but if allowed to sleep and wake naturally we will just advance forward through time an extra 2-4 hours a day at a relatively stable pace. we can't go to school or jobs or even run errands on normal schedules without massive pharmacological and behavioral intervention. most of the people who have been diagnosed or figured it out themselves will report horrific, life-ruining disruption in their professional lives and terrible health from accrued lack of sleep. this disorder is most common in vision-impaired people which seems to suggest it's related to light cues. anyway just thinking about this as extremely loud yard work woke me up at 8am for the second day in a row

[dollfacefantasy]

READ MY MIND ♡

pairing: frank castle x bratty!fem!reader

summary: frank and jealousy don't mix well together... you find that out the hard way.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, car sex, daddy kink, jealousy, drinking, meanie frank, brat taming, age gap (20s/40s, you know the drill)

a/n: ahh finally some more frank. reader is actually highkey dumb in this but that's ok. all my creations have a place in my heart 🫶 reblogs + comments are always appreciated <3

Frank had pissed you off a couple days ago. That was how this whole thing started.

Looking back now, you could admit it all was petty. He probably didn't deserve it, and you probably could have handled yourself better. But things like these built up. You could only nod your head and smile sweetly so many times before your well of grace ran dry.

You'd been getting ready for the day, coating your lashes in some mascara after shimmying on a black skirt. Frank lounged in your bed, one muscular arm behind his head as he attempted to rest away a rough night.

Through the mirror's reflection, you'd asked him what you thought to be a simple question. "Are you gonna be here on Friday night?"

But he answered with "Dunno. Gonna try to be."

Your glossy lips pursed together as irritation flared up inside. "Well... if you had to bet. Would you say you'll be here? Or not?" you tried again.

But still. "I don't know." This time he sounded a little annoyed himself. "Why? You got something planned?" he asked.

His tone only irked you more. Sure, maybe some would say you were overreacting, getting too upset over a tiny inconvenience, but you believed in your reasons. He'd been doing this more and more lately, and it was piling up. It wasn't so much his actual absence that bugged you — you knew he had his reasons. It was the dodged answers. Physical distance you could stomach. Emotional however? Not so much.

"No. I just like knowing where you are and what I'm gonna be doing," you said, words becoming clipped.

"You can't plan anything for yourself unless you know where I'll be?" he asked with a bit of sarcasm.

That earned him a harsh glare from you.

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm not trying to piss you off, baby, but I don't know. That's just the way it is."

Gritting your teeth, you looked yourself over one more time in the mirror before mumbling "fine."

Without further argument, you went for your bag hanging off the back of the desk chair. You slid it over your shoulder and scanned briefly to make sure you had everything you needed. After that, you planned on just walking out, maybe huffing a goodbye if he was lucky. But before you could go, he spoke again.

Objectively, he'd said: "Little cold out to wear that skirt, ain't it?"

But your disgruntled ears interpreted that as: "That skirt's a little too short to wear, ain't it?"

"I have tights on," you said and shot him another glare.

He blinked at the sharp response. His confused face worked you up further, and you were more than ready to go at that point. Though as you turned to depart, he called to you.

"You forgettin' something?"

A rigid wave of frustration flowed through you, but you still turned around. You knew what he was referring to, of course. All but petulantly stomping back to the edge of the mattress, you made your way to him and then leaned down to press a sticky kiss to his cheek.

"Bye," you said with a faint, involuntary pout.

He reached up, cupping your jaw and squishing your cheeks like he did every time he watched you leave.

"Be safe," he said. His version of I love you.

You nodded like you always did, giving him one more peck before pulling back and actually heading out the door. While the kiss may have given the impression that your attitude had been handled, one thought echoed through your mind as you walked down your complex's stairwell.

If he thinks this is short, I'll show him short.

Over the course of the next few days, Frank never gave you any word on whether or not he'd be at the apartment on Friday night. The more you thought about it, the more it pissed you off.

You can't plan anything for yourself unless you know where I'll be?

You clenched your jaw every time that replayed through your mind.

He had some nerve. You basically lived at his beck and call. All your time together was based around his schedule. How you acted around him depended on his mood. Everything was him him him.

So tonight was gonna be about you. Well... also him. But he wouldn't come till later.

As the sun began to set outside, you proceeded with your plan. You shedded the old t-shirt and sweats you had on, fetching something more eye-catching from your closet. A skimpy little black dress. Your hands ran over the material and smoothed it out over your curves. Some shiny heels came next and then a fresh application of darker makeup. You made sure your hair was just how he liked it too.

It was in the middle of adding the final touches to your look that you heard the front door open and then close. Your heart skipped a beat. So he had ended up coming home... you hadn't planned on seeing him till you came back tonight.

A few seconds later he walked into the bedroom. He looked tired like he did a lot of the time. For a split second, you almost felt guilty about the petty show you were putting on. It crossed your mind that you could wipe the makeup off and swap your dress out for some pjs. You could get what you actually wanted all along and spend the night by his side.

But that would require a degree of humility you didn’t possess today. You’d committed to this idea, and now you were gonna stick with it.

He registered what you had on as soon as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He went to take his boots off, but his muscles stopped all movements when he looked at you.

You could practically feel his pupils raking over your body. The warm simmer that came with his attention tingled across every inch of your skin. You played it cool though, acted natural as you grabbed your coat and shrugged it on.

“Where are you goin’?” he asked.

“Out,” you replied, picking up the nice bag you reserved for actual plans rather than errands or routines.

“Mind telling me where ‘out’ is?” he said.

“I don’t know. Just a couple different bars with my friends.”

He raised his brows. “You are going out to some bars?” he asked.

You scoffed and folded your arms across your chest. His face appeared neutral, but you were an expert in Frank-isms by now. You knew he was mocking you. It was rare for you to go out purely for socialization. He’d tease you about that regularly, saying you acted older than him by staying in all the time and going to bed early.

While normally you'd get all cute about his teasing, it frustrated you right now. You didn't want him finding humor in this when you were trying to teach a lesson.

“Yes,” you huffed. “I didn’t think you’d care since you didn’t even know if you were gonna be here tonight.”

And now his expression shifted to one of irritation as well. The passive aggressive reminder clued him into the fact that this wasn’t spontaneous. It wasn’t you trying something new for the hell of it or to get out of your comfort zone. No. You were mad at him, and instead of talking that through, you were gonna pitch a fit about it.

“I always care about where you’re going. But I don’t got a problem with it,” he said.

“Good,” you shrugged.

He sighed, his gaze lingering on your face. “Do you have a problem? Is something wrong?” he asked, clearly trying to give you the chance to end this whole thing right here.

But you didn’t take it. Instead you shook your head. “No. Why?”

“Cause you got an attitude. That’s why,” he said back.

“I don’t have an attitude,” you defended.

“You sure about that?”

“Yes,” you said. You knew you were walking a thin line. Frank was not a fan of bratty behavior to put it lightly.

He gave you another once over but ultimately decided to let it slide. "If you say so."

For once, you chose to quit while ahead and not say anything. You gave yourself a final glance in the mirror before turning to him.

"I'll see you when I get home," you said.

He nodded. And even though he wasn't pleased with your little act, he didn't want you leaving on a bad note. He forced down the irritation and pressed a kiss to your hairline.

"You call me if you need anything, yeah?" he said.

You nodded. "Yeah," you said quietly.

Regret was seeping in a little more. You'd have to get out of here quick, or you'd be kicking off your heels and hopping back into bed in no time.

You turned for the door, waving bye briefly before hightailing it out the main entry way and into the hall.

It was almost two a.m. the next time you heard Frank's voice.

You tapped his contact with a shaky thumb as you staggered your way to the exit of the club. Even pressed to your ear, you could barely hear the ringing over the music blaring all around. You pushed past people with your free arm and squeezed through the gaps between groups of guys with bad haircuts.

Once you made it outside, you took a deep breath. Finally, fresh air that didn't smell like cheap body spray or sweat. Out here, you could actually hear clearly when the phone stopped ringing.

"Hello?" his voice crackled from the other end of the line.

"Hi, Frankie," you said back, maybe a little too happily. You weren't drunk, but you weren't exactly sober either. "Could you maybe come pick me up if you're not doing anything? I was supposed to go home with my friend, but she doesn't wanna leave, and I could uber but-"

"I'll come get you," he cut off your tangent. You heard some shuffling in the background as he presumably got up. "Where are you?"

You paused, peering over your shoulder to the neon sign on the front of the nightclub. "Blackout."

Then there was a pause from him. "I thought you were just going to a few bars," he said.

"It wasn't my idea," you defended. "We were supposed to go to a couple bars, but you know how she is, I told you she never-"

"Alright, don't worry about it," he grumbled. "I'll be there in fifteen."

"Mkay, I'll be out front," you said. "Byeee."

You clicked the red circle on your phone's screen before he could say anything else.

For a moment, you pondered whether you should wait out here or go back inside. This area of town wasn't the best, but the interior of the club didn't feel much better. You sighed and leaned back against the wall. Your phone captured your attention for a few minutes, but when boredom started to set in, you just looked around, observing your company on this strip of sidewalk.

It was then that your eyes landed on a man nearby. He was watching you. That caught your attention.

His hair was dark brown, slicked back. He was around your age and had on an expensive coat with his hands jammed in the pockets. You could feel the weight of his stare shifting up and down your body. And it gave you an idea.

Under normal circumstances and sobriety, you probably would have looked away instantly. Maybe even been a little creeped out. But having gone out tonight with the feeling of neglect as your shadow, you felt a little more interested in the attention.

So you bit your lip and cocked your head, beckoning him over without ever waving your hand.

He played right along with you. Without a word, he slipped away from his group in line and walked over to where you stood.

As he got closer, you could see him with more detail, and he became a person not just a distant figure. Guilt started to well up in you, but you tried drowning it out. You didn't actually want this guy. You just wanted Frank to see him talking to you.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone?" he asked.

"Waiting for my ride," you answered, smiling but not too much.

He hummed and nodded. "Leaving already? That's a shame."

"Mhm, I got work in the morning," you lied.

"Oh yeah? Where do you work?"

"I can't tell you that. You're a stranger," you replied with a little added giggle.

He huffed out a laugh. You noticed how his eyes simultaneously trailed along your exposed collarbone.

"Pretty and smart," he teased. "I think I'd be making a huge mistake if I let you go without even asking for your number."

"You didn't even ask for my name yet," you said with a grin.

"Well then, what's your name?" he said, voice lowering slightly.

Before you could get the syllables out, a deep voice answered for you.

"Get in the car."

Your head snapped in the direction of the street to find Frank's car before you and him standing next to the driver's side. You hadn't even noticed him pull up, the sounds of the wheels had melded together with all the others on this street.

The moment you saw his face you regretted this whole idea. Not even just entertaining that guy, but everything, this whole night. If only you could turn back time and just force yourself to tell Frank you were upset.

But you couldn't, so you nervously shuffled towards the passenger door, not even daring to look back at your other suitor.

You got inside and slumped down in your seat. Only seconds later Frank's door slammed shut too. He didn't say a word either, not to you or that other guy.

Your eyes were glued to your thighs as he put the car back in drive and pulled away from the curb. You sat there, body rigid as you waited for him to tear into you. It would be coming any moment now you were sure of it.

But minutes passed. The car made several turns. Lights went from green to red. And not a sound.

He didn't yell, didn't lecture, didn't ask any questions. It was starting to really freak you out inside. Part of you was scared he'd pull up in front of the apartment, dump you out of the car, and then drive out of your life forever.

You dared to look over at him and just saw his eyes straight ahead, his hands clasped tight on the wheel. It was unnerving. Never did you imagine you'd be wishing for Frank to blow up on you, but this silence was unbearable.

Not wanting to start anything while he was driving, you waited till you were down the street from the apartment complex before speaking.

"Frank... I'm really sorry," you said quietly.

He didn't respond, and a long pause stretched from your last word to the moment he put his car in park. The engine went quiet as the lights on the dash faded away. Golden hues from the street lamps outside were the only thing illuminating the two of you.

"Are you now?" he said, and you could tell he was still pissed.

"I really am. I swear, I wasn't with that guy at the club or anything like that. He just came up to me while I was waiting for you, and I didn't wanna blow him off just in case and-"

"You weren't looking too eager to blow him off when I pulled up," he cut you off.

The car stayed silent because you didn't have a response for that. You bit your lip, giving the best set of puppy eyes you could manage. It was all for nothing though because he still wouldn't look at you. This was what you wanted wasn't it? Him jealous? So why did it feel so bad?

It was only after this period of quiet that he turned to look at you. His eyes were dark and stormy. You nearly cowered from a brief glimpse alone.

"Did you think you were being cute tonight?" he asked. "Getting all dressed up, being snippy with me, trying to make me jealous."

"I wasn't-"

"Did you think I'd find that cute?" he said, tone hard as ever.

You bowed your head instead of persisting with denial.

"No..."

"Good 'cause you should know better. I don't have time for shit like that. You wanna play games, you go find yourself a little boy who's willing to put up with 'em."

You just nodded, not having the courage to even verbally respond. It didn't matter to him though. He kept going regardless.

"I'm not gonna tell you this again. Don't think you can pull shit like that with me. I got better things to do, and I'm not gonna spend my time worrying about if you're out letting some other man put his hands on you."

Again, you nodded. The heat of humiliation crept up your neck and into your cheeks.

"When you're with me, you're with me. Got it?"

"Got it," you repeated, so quiet it was barely audible. Your eyes had started to sting a little bit, but you swallowed hard to keep your emotions down.

He went quiet again, and the tension nearly killed you. You weren't sure if he was gonna send you up to the apartment all alone or go with you just to lay in bed without speaking. But luckily, he did neither of those things. Instead he patted his thigh a couple times and looked over at you.

"Come here," he said, his voice low but no longer tense.

Your head popped up a little. "What?" you asked, making sure you heard right.

"Come here," he said again, this time with more command.

You didn't need to be told a third time.

He reached down between his legs to slide the seat back slightly while you climbed over the center console. One of your legs awkwardly swung over his thighs, and the other knocked into the seatbelt receptacle. You still made it work though.

His right hand came to cup your jaw, to force you to make eye contact. With a closer look, he saw your watery eyes.

"Don't give me that. You got yourself into this," he said.

Before you could blink again, he brought you in closer and put a rough kiss on your pout. Your palms landed on his chest. The strong beat of his heart pounded against one.

Soon, his grip fell from your jaw down to your waist. His fingers dug into each of your hips as he tugged your lower body flush against his abdomen.

You gasped at the sudden drag of your center on his lap. Frustration rolled off of him with every movement. His hands found the hem of your sleek little black dress and hiked it up over your hips.

The quick exposure startled you. Pulling back a little, you looked around outside to see if anyone was nearby to see through the windows. His truck wasn't tinted, and even under the cover of night, any wandering eyes would have no trouble seeing what the two of you were up to.

"What're you looking for, baby? Thought you wanted other people to see you in your pretty little outfit," he said as he guided you close again.

His lips latched onto your neck, drawing another gasp from you. Your sensitive skin fell victim to his teeth. He nipped at you before gliding his tongue over the area. You recognized it as an attempt to leave a mark. That sent a little thrill for you. He could act like a hardass all he wanted, but he still got jealous like anyone else.

"I'm just making sure no one's watching..." you said.

“Why? You feelin’ shy now?” he teased.

You just shook your head. Your hands rubbed up and down his biceps onto his shoulders and then up to his neck.

“Just don’t wanna get in trouble,” you said as you nuzzled him.

“The only one you gotta worry about getting in trouble with is me,” he said with a light smack on your ass.

You whined, but the words were enough to clear the possibility of getting a ticket or worse from your mind.

His hand mimicked your own. It slid to the back of your neck. Only he grabbed the skin tight, gave you a little tug to make you look in his eyes.

You let out a soft whimper. His stare was so intense, it was almost enough to bring those tears from your eyes once and for all. You squirmed on his lap without even thinking about it. In bed, there was so much space for evasion. You could roll over, hide your face in the pillows or blankets, even just look at the ceiling or the wall. But in the car, like this, there was just Frank.

His thumb swept back and forth on your chin before he relented and connected his mouth with yours once again.

“You’re too fuckin’ cute,” he mumbled into your mouth. “Even when you’ve been a pain in my ass, I let you get away with it.”

“Cause you know I didn’t mean it, daddy,” you whispered.

That brought a groan out from somewhere deep in his chest.

He tilted his head back against the seat. “Don’t give me that.”

Your hands rubbed up and down his chest. You rocked your hips on him too to go with them. As he gave you more lenience, you felt more comfortable fighting back a little. It was more fun to play along when you knew you weren’t on the verge of a breakup.

“I never wanted you to be mad at me. Just wanted your attention.”

You rolled your hips harder in a wider circle. Between your thighs, you could feel the start of his bulge. It was only half-hard right now, but with a little time, you knew you’d have him ready to go.

“You saying I don’t give you enough attention? That why you act up?” he said. His hands returned to your waist, gripping and massaging the skin of your torso.

“It’s never enough for me cause I want all your attention, all the time. Every single second. Just wanna be with you.”

"I swear you're gonna send me to an early grave,” he said.

You smiled a little, and your hands fell between your two bodies. They went for his fly, but he grabbed one of your wrists and kept you from getting to it.

Immediately, you looked to him with a fresh pout. But he just clicked his tongue at you.

“You think you deserve my dick after tonight?” he asked.

You huffed. “It’s not gonna feel as good for you if you don’t lemme take it out.”

That put a bit of a smile on his face too. “Oh, it’s all for me? Who knew my girl was so selfless?” he mocked.

You nodded proudly, now able to slip free of his grasp and flick open his button. From there, you yanked the zipper down and shimmied around the layers of fabric to get at what you really wanted.

His cock stuck out for you, nearly fully hard by now. With a couple more tugs of your hand, it filled out the rest of the way. You watched it, almost mesmerized. It was warm and flushed, oozing precum for you.

“If you took me inside first, I coulda sucked it for you,” you pouted, looking between him and his cock.

“We’re not gonna be out here all night. I’m sure you’ll still have some making up to do later,” he said simply.

He corralled you against his chest, boosting you enough to pull your panties aside and situate you over his length. This wasn’t gonna be on your terms, you could already tell. He reached down between the two of you, wrapping his thick calloused fingers around himself atop your own hand. With both of you guiding the shaft, you angled it at your entrance and then slid down on it.

“Fuck,” you whined, dropping your head on his shoulder.

He hummed, an agreement of sorts. His hand rubbed up and down your back before he began rocking his hips up into you.

“If this is what you needed, you should’ve just asked,” he said into your ears. “No reason for you to throw a tantrum. You know I always take care of you.”

The rasp of his voice was enough to make you shudder. You gripped onto him a little tighter and started to aide his thrusts, bouncing up and down with what leverage you had in this position.

“Didn’t wanna ask. Wanted you to do it,” you whimpered.

“Yeah? I’ve spoiled you so much you expect me to read your mind now?”

All you could do was whine at that. You knew what you meant, and it wasn’t so petulant. There was just no other way you could articulate it at present.

You grabbed onto his shoulders, digging your fingers into the muscles there. “Shut up,” you choked out. You threw your head back as you began to bounce faster.

He gave you a harsh smack on the ass, much harder than before. This time it left a lingering sting.

“Watch your attitude. You’re not off the hook yet.”

You just kept riding him. Up and down, up and down. You were sure the car was rocking by now. Creaking and shaking under that dingy streetlamp. That didn’t matter to you. At this point, you didn’t care if someone saw. You wouldn’t care if a crowd stopped to watch. Not when you felt this good. Not when you were so close.

“Daddy, fuck, can I please cum? Pretty please?” you asked.

“Do you think you deserve it?” he asked for the second time tonight.

His hand slipped down and rubbed at your clit. The rough skin of his fingertips on your little velvet bud got you to squeal. Your hips bucked on instinct, nearly knocking your knee into the door.

“Um… Uh…” you stammered, trying to act hesitant. If you seemed remorseful, he might be more inclined to reward you. That was your thought process anyways.

“Simple question, sweetheart.” His fingers didn’t stop swirling on your bundle of nerves.

“Yeah! I do! Cause I’m really really really sorry, and I love you so so so fucking much. And you’re the only one who can make me cum like this. Can’t even think of anyone else when you make me cum,” you said, practically babbling.

Had your head been upright and your vision focused on him, you could have seen the fondness for you in his expression. But your head was still back facing the ceiling, and your eyes were still drooping with ecstasy, so you missed that and just heard him say “alright. I guess you deserve it.”

You let out a moan loud enough to pierce the interior of the car. Your head popped back up now to lay a sloppy kiss on his lips. “Thank you, daddy,” you whimpered before you felt the first wave of release.

That hot coil of pleasure inside you snapped. You whined and rode your way through it. Nothing could stop you from moving. You kept going and going, quivering thighs and all.

He spilled himself inside you as well somewhere during your high. You felt it vaguely, but the sensation was pretty muted compared to everything else going on.

You finally slowed down and then came to a stop when you were reaching the end of your descent. Once you’d fully come down, you slumped against his chest, your own breaths coming out ragged.

He squeezed you close without a word, planted a quiet kiss on your head.

“I love you too,” he mumbled.

You nuzzled his chest once more, saying sorry without words. It was enough for Frank though.

He slid himself out of you and fixed your clothes. You lazily made sure everything was in place before he popped open the car door and helped you out.

Your legs felt wobbly as they held you up on the asphalt, but you managed to stay upright till he was out too. His hand landed on your ass, giving it a pat. You happily tucked yourself to his side before the both of you began walking towards the apartment building.

[a99jazzybean]

HELLOOO

i don't recall if i've popped a req in here , so disregard if i already have requested something from you

but i was thinking about your chance fic 'with a taste of your lips' and i was thinking ,,,

could we get a chance x gn!reader who has an oral fixation ? not even a sexual oral fixation , just likes to keep their mouth occupied a lot (chewing on things, rubbing things against their lips, etc) .

maybe the reader has a habit of rubbing whatever is in their hand against their lips , and this time just so happens to be chance's d20

just a little thought 🤭🤭

bonus; here's a silly <3

Love this idea! Thank you for the request! And the art is absolutely adorable!

I did add a bit that was inspired by this drabble from @juicyasstender that was inspired by With a Taste of Your Lips... Inspiration inception!

Just a Taste

synop: You have to keep your mouth occupied and find the closest object is your D20. When Chance abruptly leaves the room, you discover that he can feel what you do to his die body. With this newfound information, you decided to have some fun...

words: 4.7K

includes: chancexgn!reader, masturbation, fondling objects, thigh fucking, orgasm denial, dom!chance, reader has a "hole" and "sex"

a/n: Guys, I love this concept that the objects can feel when you interact with their object form! Also, this is smutty. No minors!

“Stop biting your nails, you’re gonna get yourself sick.” Your mother snatched your hand from your mouth. 

“I can’t help it!” You whined.

It was true, you had a natural inclination to put whatever was in your hands to your mouth. Which in this case, happened to be your actual hand. When your mother released it back to you, you looked over your nails. Bitten down, almost bleeding. Even in your little childhood brain you knew this was likely a problem. 

“I suppose we can try and find something to help.” Your mother sighed.

This issue probably came from your father, who also had issues with keeping things out of his mouth. Especially his fingers. 

“How about gum, hmm?” She eyed the stand over the grocery store conveyor belt. “You’re old enough to have that, right?” She looked down at you.

You shrugged, pretty sure you had tried it once before. 

“Yeah, you’re old enough.” She snatched a pack of bubblegum, adding it to the rest of the groceries. 

When you exited the store, she handed you a piece. You popped it into your mouth and began chewing, finding the sensation quite satisfying. Thus, you had found at least one way to curb the need to comply with your oral fixation. 

Almost two decades later, you sit at your home office. Back to old bad habits, fingers in your mouth. You had been forgetting to purchase gum with your groceries ever since you couldn’t leave the house. Seeing the stand at the checkout was always a visual reminder, one you no longer had to aid you. For now, you found yourself chewing at your nails, or fidgeting with a nearby object on your lips. The latter happened to be less dangerous to your unsuspecting fingers. 

“You know, you’re gonna get sick if you keep doing that.” Mac sat in front of you as you typed away at their keyboard. 

“You sound like my mom.” You said, pulling out your thumb and inspecting it. A ragged tip of your nail greeted you, the skin around it red. “Though, you’re probably right.” 

“Phoenicia, could you add spearmint gum to the grocery list for the weekend?” You asked your phone. 

“You got it!” She cheerily spoke, putting the item on your list. 

While you wouldn’t have your oral aid for a few days, at least you remembered to add it this time. 

For now, you would have to find something else to keep your mouth occupied. From your peripheral, you spotted your lucky D20. The object had witnessed its fair share of days dancing upon your lips. Occasionally receiving a nibble. 

Shrugging your shoulders, you picked it up. Returning to your work on your computer you brought the die to your lips. Unaware of what exactly you were doing. 

From the end of your desk, Chance sucked in a groan. Feeling your lips ghost over various parts of his body. Eyes narrowing, he sent a glare to Mac. Of course they had to point out your habit. Leading you to unconsciously teasing him. 

Ever the people pleaser, Chance would never let you know how your actions affected him. He could only picture how embarrassed it would make you. Instead, he forced himself to suffer in silence. Watching as you brushed your lips over his die body, shivering with each touch. 

Looking to your side, you spotted Chance hunched over behind his GM screen. Peeking over, you saw him looking up at you with a red face.

“S-sorry!” You sputtered. “I swear I wasn’t trying to see what you were working on…” You obviously lied. 

“Mhmm, sure…” He held in a groan as you rubbed the die across your lips, feeling a kiss against his chest. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind during our next session. Your character is at what…” he glanced down at his notes, “17 hp?” He gave you a cheeky grin, glad that your discussion of G&G was distracting him from what you were doing to his body. 

“Whaaaat??” You shuffled around your desk, looking for your character sheet. “Ah shit.” 

There it was, “17/85 hp”. Ugh, you’d probably have to take healing potion if you were planning on not dying next session. 

“If you hope to keep your mortal soul, I suggest not looking over the screen.” He teased. 

Despite his mind’s attempts at pushing away the feelings moving though his body, you still were affecting the dice greatly. The red in his face growing darker and darker with each press of your lips to his body. 

You spotted his flustered state, concern on your face. 

“Is everything alright?” You turned back to him, die still pressed against your lips. 

His eyes darted to your mouth, then to your eyes. 

“Uh, yeah.” He choked out. 

This was beginning to become unbearable. Then, of course you just had to do it. That one habit of yours that had him going absolutely insane. With just the smallest amount of teeth, you nibbled on the 19 side. Chance let out an audible groan as he felt your teeth graze the sweet spot in the crook of his neck. 

“You sure you’re good?” You pulled the die from your mouth, setting it on the table. Reaching for Chance, you placed a hand on his forehead. His skin felt extremely hot to the touch. 

“I-I’m fine! Really!” He brushed your hand away. 

“Your head is really hot. You sure you’re not sick?” Worry, furrowed your brow. 

“Us objects can’t get sick, heh.” He brushed you off again.

“If you say so…” You left it at that, returning to concentrating on your computer. 

The die was back to your mouth. 

No, no, no, not that side! Chance practically melted into a puddle as your lips pressed to his seven side. Feeling a soft warmth press right against his rock-hard crotch. 

Suddenly, the man shot up. The red still burning against his cheeks. You and the other objects gave him a concerned look. 

“Ah, um, if you’ll excuse me!” As nonchalantly as possible, he cupped his hands over his crotch, then shuffled off into whatever space he lived in, one that you had yet to see. 

In his little home, Chance rubbed a hand down his face with a groan. How much more of this would he be able to take? Sure, he managed when you didn’t know of his living existence. He was easily able to run off and take care of himself. Now, with you being able to see him, it was significantly more difficult to hide. However, admitting what you do to him? Oh, he absolutely could not handle the embarrassment that would bring you. 

For now, he would have to manage it the only way he knew how: jacking off when you weren’t looking. 

Sitting down with thud, Chance cupped himself over his pants. Giving himself a tight squeeze, he let out a satisfied moan. Pulling down his pants and boxers, his hard cock flopped out against his stomach. Gripping himself tightly, he began to pump at his length. His thumb brushing over the underside of his reddened tip. 

As he ran his fist up and down he thought about you. About your lips on him. Ones that he could still feel right now. You pressed the six side to your mouth. A kiss pressed against his thigh, making him moan. Then you slid the die to the seven, making his cock jump. Fuck. Precum beaded at the tip of his cock as he felt your lips on him. 

The mixture of your mouth and his hand would have him cumming in no time. 

Then, there it was again, your teeth nibbling on the die. This time on the 12 down his chest. As you moved the die along your lips, you pressed against his lower stomach. 

With you no longer being around, Chance let himself be loud. Moaning and praising your actions as you made him near his climax. Each pump of his cock emphasized the feeling of your mouth on his body. 

A final press of your lips to the seven was his undoing. His balls tightening, then long strands of cum bursting out of him. Coating his hand with warmth as he continued to overstimulate himself with more pumps. 

“Ah, ah, fuck. You feel so fucking good.” He moaned out. If only you knew…

As you sat unaware in your office, Mac snickered knowingly. Turning away from where Chance had run off to, you gave them a confused look.

“What’s so funny?” You asked.

“Oh nothing…” They trailed, eyes dropping to the die at your lips. 

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” Your eyes narrowed. “Spill.” 

“Aww, but you’re so fun to tease.” Mac leaned their hands on their knees, cocking their head playfully.

Narrowing your eyes further, the computer conceded with a sigh. 

“You know we can feel you interacting with the objects, right? It’s not like I’ve gushed over your double-clicking or anything…”

“Yeah, I thought that was obvious.” You said, unsure of where this was going. 

Mac coughed into their hand, motioning at the object pressed against your mouth. Eyes widening, you removed the die. Placing it down and lifting up your hands as if it were something extremely delicate. 

“You mean…” You sucked in a harsh breath, eyes wide. “He, he felt…”

“Everything.” Mac finished for you. 

“Oh. Oh no.” Your eyes were filled with horror at the realization. 

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry about it.” Mac waved you off.

“Why shouldn't I worry? I’ve been mouthing at Chance without even knowing!” You groaned, making your head fall into your hands. 

“Why do you think he hasn’t told you?” Mac gave you a pointed look.

Peeking through your fingers, your eyes widened again. That’s right, he hadn’t ever told you. This wasn’t a habit of yours that just began, you had been doing it for years. Yet, Chance, not even once, had told you. 

“He likes it?” 

“I mean, all of us kinda do…” Mac trailed. “However, Chance has been one of the luckier ones you tend to play with.” 

“What am I supposed to do now that I know this?” You asked, voice cracking. 

Inside you were filled with a weird mixture of embarrassment and intrigue. On the one hand, you had literally been kissing and nibbling on Chance’s body this entire time. On the other hand, Chance had never said anything about it. Which could mean that he liked it, or he could be absolutely mortified about it. 

Thinking on it though, you remembered his state earlier. Red in the face and stuttering. It didn’t seem like the embarrassed kind. More like the flustered kind. Then there was the fact that he had run away. Run away while covering his crotch… Oh god… He liked it!

A lightbulb went off in your head, and a mischievous grin grew on your face. One that Mac caught. They quirked a brow, wondering where your head was at.

“Care to share your thoughts? You’re giving me that look you get when you come up with something new for a self-insert fic.” 

“Oh, I have some ideas…” You chuckled to yourself. 

Chance had always interested you. He was one of the very first items you came across when you first received the Dateviators. At first sight, you were pretty much smitten. The personified D20 charming you immediately. It didn’t help that he was quite the flirt, especially when he was in his GM mode. 

Having the knowledge that you were able to affect him in such a way, well that was a fun surprise to say the least. A surprise that you would be taking advantage of.

You glanced at the calendar on your computer, letting out an amused huff. In just two days, you would have your next session with Chance. A session that you will be enjoying greatly.

When Chance returned to the office, you had already left. While part of him was disappointed, another part of him let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know if he could face you after what he had just done. Little did he know, you were about to make things worse for him. 

For the next two days you decided to make sure you were right about your suspicions regarding Chance. Continuing to play with his die by your lips whenever you were in the office. Testing out different ways to mess with your favorite D20. 

With each press of your lips to the die, you watched him out of your peripheral vision. Every time he felt your mouth on him, his face grew red and his breathing grew labored. He did his best to hold himself together, but found himself running off to take care of himself before things got too bad. If you continued to mouth him like that, he surely would cum in his pants. While his condition was certainly embarrassing, he could not be seen doing that. 

Every reaction you gained from him, you catalogued in your mind. Making sure you knew exactly what got him going. 

From your observations, you found that each side of his die resulted in a response from a different part of his body. You noted that the seven and eight elicited more intriguing results. 

Soon enough, the day of your next G&G session arrived. Across the table you sat with a smirk. Looking at you over his screen, Chance raised a questioning brow. 

“What are you looking so smug about?” He asked, fingers below his chin as he attempted to get a read on you.

“Oh nothing… I just know how I’m going to get my way this session.” You said, the smirk turning into a cheeky grin.

“Is that so?” 

“It very much is.” Your finger messed with his die on the table. 

You watched as he began to shuffle in his seat uncomfortably. Tracing around the six, you saw him shudder. The feeling of your finger stroking over his thigh, almost making him keen. He managed to hold himself back, a blush begging to bloom on his neck. 

“R-right, we’ll see about that.” He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Anyways, shall we begin?”

“We shall!” You gave him a soft smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. Instead, something else swirled in your irises. Something that had Chance shivering. 

He cleared his throat again, then cracked his knuckles. Surely he could make it through his session, right?

  Very quickly, you proved him wrong. The die brought to your lips as you concentrated on Chance’s storytelling. 

“So, you’re currently fighting against a group of undead skeletons and a necromancer in the kingdom’s cemetery. Right now you are 17 health. It is your turn to go…”

As you looked over your character sheet, you pressed your lips to the die. An action that could be seen as wholly innocent, though the intentional placement of your lips was most certainly not. The 10 slid over your bottom lip, making Chance feel a kiss upon his lower belly. The feeling made him visibly shiver. 

“Hmmm…” You moved the die to the six side. His thigh received the warm caress of your lips. “I think I’ll pop a healing potion for now.” You set the die down. 

When you released your hold on the die, you swore you heard him sigh. This was torture for him. Blissful, sexy torture, but torture nonetheless. 

“Okay, roll your two D4 please.” 

You rolled the dice, earning you five points of health back. When you finished your roll, Chance’s D20 returned to your mouth. The man let out a huff at the feeling. 

Looking at him, you caught his gaze. Pupils blown out, mouth slightly hung open as if he was trying to catch his breath. Just a dusting of red on his cheeks as he held himself back. Catching your gaze, Chance was taken aback. There was a knowing look in your eyes. 

He watched as his die moved over your lips. Then, your fingers twisted it around. The seven side now pressed to them. Keeping eye contact, you added more pressure. Kissing the die deliberately. 

Chance let out a soft grunt, doing his best not to moan out as you mouthed at the die equivalent of his dick. Then, you were mean. Tongue lightly flicking out against the number.

There it was in your eyes, that mischievous, knowing look. One that had a smirk written on your face as you toyed with the die. 

You knew! You fucking knew! 

As if your tongue wasn’t enough, you moved the die again. This time nibbling on the 19. You watched with amusement at Chance lifted his neck to the feeling of your teeth scraping along his throat. Then, you set the die back down.

“Y-you,” Chance caught his breath, “you regain five points of health back.” He croaked. 

“Awesome. I’d like to use my bonus action to prepare to dodge.” You said, that smirk still on your lips.

“Of course.” He did his best to regain his composure. 

It was now the enemies’ turn, in more ways than one it seemed. 

“One of the skeletons is going to attack you with its longswoooord, oh!” Your tongue was back on the seven. “It, it-” His face had gone bright red now.

“It what?” You pulled back the die, a small strand of saliva breaking away as you did so.

“It hits!” He gasped out as your tongue returned. 

Why was he continuing to let this go on? He knew, oh he knew why. This was only something he could dream of. You knowingly teasing him. However, he knew it would become unbearable if he didn’t do something about it. 

“You didn’t roll though, how did it hit?” You played coy with another cheeky grin. 

“It just does.” He said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowing as you returned to pressing the die against your lips. 

“Does it, now?” You nipped at the five, the feeling of your teeth hitting the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. 

“F-fuck. Yes it does!” He slammed his hands on the table, pushing himself up. 

As he lifted up, your eyes darted to the prominent bulge in his pants. The sight had your mouth watering. Oh, you could get used to this. Moving your gaze up, you shivered as you met Chance’s eyes. They were dark, filled with hunger. 

His hands gripped at the table harshly. Fingernails biting into the wood as he tried to keep himself composed. 

You didn’t stop messing with his die. Mouthing around various sides, just slightly avoiding the numbers that would stimulate his sex. A teasing smirk on your lips as you trailed the die along them. 

That darkness in his eyes grew as he let out an audible groan. How much more could he take before he snapped? By now he had to be close to his boiling point. With his shivering body and labored breathing, he would crack soon. 

Staring straight into his eyes, you flicked your tongue out on the seven. There it was, a spark of something even deeper in Chance’s eyes. Want. 

With what little composure he had, Chance marched over to you. Your eyes trailed to his chest as you watched him inhale and release harsh breaths. 

Giving him an innocent bat of your lashes, you looked up at him with a confused stare. Cocking your head to the side as you read the frustration on his face. 

“Is something wrong?” You asked sweetly, pressing the die to your lips. 

“Get up.” It wasn’t a question, it was a command. 

“Why should I?” You decided to tease, see how far you could really push him. 

“Because I’m not asking.” He placed a hand on the back of your chair, leaning his large frame over your body. 

“Maybe you should.” You kissed the six of the die. “It’s polite.” 

“Get up. Or I will make you.” 

Oh. Well that was certainly new. Something that you were very interested in. 

“As you wish.”

He moved away, letting you stand up. As soon as you were on your feet, the man walked you back. Pressing you against your office wall, making you let out a sharp gasp. 

“What’s this all about?” You cocked your head with a coy smile. 

“You and I know very well what ‘this’ is about.” He practically spat. 

He was now nose to nose with you. Hot breaths fanning your face as he pinned you to the wall. 

“What exactly am I supposed to ‘know’, Chance?”

The die in your hand returned to your lips. You gave it a little nip, watching with amusement as his eyes scrunched shut with a groan. Opening them, you were met with that deep look of want once more. It had you shivering. 

“Care if I show you?” He asked lowly. 

“Be my guest.” You feigned an air of confidence, but couldn’t help the slight waver in your voice. His dominating presence had you squirming. 

Slowly, he leaned towards you. Lips puckered to kiss you. Fluttering your eyes shut, you leaned in. Only a low chuckle met you. Instead, Chance’s head turned to kiss up your jaw and down your neck. The featherlight kisses had you letting out soft whines. 

When his mouth reached the crook of your neck, he gave you a soft bite. The feeling had you yelping, making Chance bite you again. This time, lightly scraping his teeth up your neck. 

When he pulled away, he appraised his work. Dark marks now forming around your pulse point and sweet spots along the column of your throat. His thumb lightly brushed over one of the bruises as he let out a satisfied huff. 

“Now, do you know what I’m talking about?” He leaned toward you with an amused hum. Loving the way you squirmed from his close proximity. 

But he couldn’t win that easily. 

“No, I don’t know.” You grinned at him, eyes sparkling teasingly. 

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed your wrist. Holding up the hand that held his die in front of your face. 

“Don’t try to play coy. I know you know.” 

“You still have yet to tell me what I ‘know’, exactly.” You teased. 

“Fine.” He let out a harsh breath. “I can play this game too, you know?” He released your hand. 

His own warm hands slid up your body. Softly caressing you. Leaning in, he whispered into your ear. 

“Tell me to stop, and I will. But if you want me to keep going…well…” He chuckled darkly. “You’ll see.” 

“I won’t stop you.” You cocked your head to the side giving him a challenging stare. 

With the dice in your hand you brought it to your lips, giving it a kiss on the seven side. You watched Chance shudder and groan at the feeling. 

Suddenly, your hand was pinned to the wall. 

“Do that again, see what happens.” He hissed through gritted teeth. 

With surprising strength, Chance flipped you around. Shoving your chest into the wall. From behind, you felt him press against your body. The outline of his hard cock pushed against your ass. 

“Do you feel what you do to me?” He breathed against your ear. “Do you know what it’s like?” He groaned, grinding himself against you. 

“Know what, what’s like?” You asked quietly. 

“What it’s like,” his hand slid down your torso and teased over your pants, “to be touched, but you can’t do anything about it.” 

Gasping, you tried to cross your legs as he cupped over your sex. With his thigh, he pushed your legs apart. He tsked you with a click of his tongue. 

“Nuh uh, you’re not running away from this.” His hand returned to playing with you over your pants. “After all, I couldn’t run away from you.” 

“B-but you did. You always left the room.” You looked at him over your shoulder, shivering at the lustful gaze deep in his eyes. 

“I certainly tried. But I couldn’t really escape you. Not your lips, not your kisses, your tongue, the biting.” He emphasized the final word with a bite to your shoulder. 

“Ah, mmph!” You moaned as his hand continued to cup over you. Teasing you with light strokes and squeezes. 

As he continued to touch you, you felt yourself growing more and more aroused. Needing some type of friction to assist you. However, Chance didn’t appear to care all too much. Enjoying the sounds of your whimpers and moans as you helplessly took what he gave you. 

Pulling his hand back, you let out a whine. From behind you heard the shuffling of his pants. Chance let them hit the floor. Looking over your shoulder you moaned at the sight. 

Chance stood there, his cock out and standing proud. His length, thick and delicious looking. Fuck, you needed it. 

For a moment, Chance watched you. His hand wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping away. Beads of precum dripping down the shaft. The amused smirk on his face indicated how much he enjoyed watching you squirm. 

“Chance…” You let out a groan. 

“Yes?” His voice held a teasing lilt. 

“Please…”

“Please what? Use your words.” 

“Please just do something!” You whined, dropping your head in exasperation. 

“I am doing something.” He groaned, gripping his dick tighter and pumping faster. 

“You know what I mean!” You huffed in frustration. 

“Do I? You didn’t seem to understand what I was telling you earlier.” He stopped touching himself. 

Pressing his body against yours, he spoke into your ear. 

“So tell me,” he purred, “What. Do. You. Know?” You felt his cock press into your backside. 

“I know! I know that you can feel what happens to your die!” The time for teasing was over, you needed him, NOW. 

“Was that so hard?” He chuckled, placing a soft kiss under your ear. 

Quickly, Chance pulled down your pants and underwear. Warm hands grabbed at the swell of your ass, giving it a squeeze. One of his hands trailed between your legs, cupping your bare sex. The action had you jolting. Every part of your being was on fire from his teasing. Buzzing with an ever growing energy that you wished to dispel. 

Pushing between your legs, you felt Chance’s thick cock. He groaned at the feel of your plush thighs squeezing around his length. The head of his cock brushed up against your awaiting hole, but he didn’t push in. No, instead he continued to fuck your thighs. Gripping them tightly as he thrust in and out. His cock just barely teasing your sex as it brushed past. You whined at the lack of friction, but the man behind you didn’t let up. 

He moaned as he continued to fuck between your legs. Occasionally teasing your hole, but never entering you. A smug smirk on his face as you looked over your shoulder with a glare. 

“Chance, please!” You cried out as he brushed up against your most sensitive parts. “I can’t take it. Please just fuck me!”

“No.” He said lowly as he continued to pummel himself between your legs. 

He leaned over your shoulder, biting into it again. 

“You’re gonna take me like a good little slut. Since you like teasing me like one. So, no whining or complaining.” He growled into your ear before nipping it lightly. 

“I can’t take it!” You felt tears of desperation prick at your eyes. 

“Yes you can.” He moaned, feeling his climax grow nearer. 

“N-no! It’s too much! Please!” Your whimpers only spurred him on. 

Forcing your hips back he fucked between your thighs over and over. Cock brushing up to your hole for the barest amount of friction. 

With a final pump, he let out the lewdest moan. Cock spraying out ropes of cum, painting your thighs white. His arms wrapped around your middle as he shook with the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

His lips pressed soft wet kisses up your throat. Warm hands caressed at your sides. 

Slipping out of your thighs, he groaned lowly. Turning around, you saw the man red in the face. His chest heaving with labored breaths. Despite his tired state, he gave you a smirk. 

He pulled up his pants and walked up to you. Gripping your chin, he brought your face to his. Softly, he pecked your lips. Giving you just a taste of him. He let you go, then turned to walk away. Throwing a cheeky grin over his shoulder, he spoke. 

“Now you know how it feels.” 

[edelblau]

it's bad again

or rather, it remains bad, as it has been, and i havent been able to fix it, because everything is expensive and it's only getting worse, and ive just been pretending its all super normal.

to be honest, i have not been good for a while now. the problem with being in a financial hole is that its very hard to get out of one, and since i'm disabled, i can't just take more hours at work. i have to order groceries, which adds 20-30 dollars in cost on top of the already expensive orders, and. yeah.

i try to pay it off, but doing so puts me in a bad position where i dont have enough money for the rest of the month... and i have to spend whatever progress i made. and then interest fees take whats left. its been net 0 for months. ive been trying to promote commissions incessantly, trying to earn my way out; thats not that easy, though. my last commission was in may, and overall, im not a super successful artist, but a hobbyist with little to show.

commissions are still up, and they always will be, but it's probably the time to be transparent about this since i do nothing but complain. i don't really know what to ever expect from this kind of thing, but. yeah. if you can help id appreciate it. im not sure if ill regret mentioning all of this but. yeah.

realistically, even if i get out of this specific hole, ill probably need help to some extent forever. i got here because tthings are too expensive and though i dont intend on letting it get this bad again, but. yeah. i don't know. im beyond the point of saying this is the last time because its always a lie no matter how much i hate myself for it. so sorry for the e-begging, thank you to any who reblog, and extra thank you to any who decide to get art or what have you. i love you, genuinely. tumblr has always been the only place my posts get traction and i get help so

(commissions post)

[leighsartworks216]

Concept I had that I probably won't fully write out. If anyone gets inspired by it, please feel free to write it just tag me so I can read it too lol

Dragon Sylus who watches foolish mortals put gifts of wealth and food on a pedestal to a god. Wasting precious resources for the false notion of protection and fortune. Prayers for rainfall and safety and devotion falling on deaf ears

He watches over it for a while. Studies these mortals and the offerings they bring. It would be easy to steal them once they've left. Fresh fish for an easy meal. Fruits and nuts he's never eaten before. More gold and jewelry to add to his collection. It's not the most precious of things, but who would notice if he stole them anyway? It would be no different to their supposed god taking them

So at night, after a full day of prayer and worship, he swoops down, prepared to swipe an easy breakfast

Except, he must have miscalculated, because there's a strange being there. One he doesn't recall seeing enter. They're dressed differently to the folk he's seen. Odd scraps of fabric draped from their shoulders and arms, tied around their waist and ankles. Bracelets and necklaces clink together with every movement as they gather fruit from the alter into a basket

He hides behind a pillar. Watching. Studying. There's no way anyone could have slipped past without him noticing, and yet this being is here regardless. The temple should be empty; of that he's certain

They hum to themself. A foreign song. A beautiful song. It feels warm and protective. It unsettles him. He wants to feel alert, not calmed. Their song is tampering with his natural instincts

"Are you hungry?"

His scales rise at the back of his neck. Breath held. Ducking behind the pillar to listen for whoever they speak to. But he hears no one else, only their clinking jewelry

A peach rolls along the floor and stops by his feet

"My temple is a sanctuary to all - you included. Hide if it makes you feel safer. I will leave some food for you."

His heart races. He doesn't move. The jingling doesn't get closer, but he doesn't dare peek back out. And just like that, it stops. And all warmth and safety he felt feels dimmed, somehow. When he looks out after several minutes of silence, he sees no one. Only the lone peach on the floor and a basket of food on the altar

-

He doesn't return for several weeks, but he does watch the temple. The believers that enter and exit, prayer beads in hand and loads lightened from their offerings. He is certain no one like he saw the first time entered this time. And yet, when he flies down, he hears the humming and the clinking of bracelets

He thinks he sees a smile curl on their lips from afar, though they do not look at him

They carry two baskets this time. One is quite full of fish and fruits, while the other only carries a few. His eyes are more interested in the delicate necklace they hold up to the candlelight. A vibrant red jewel shines out from silver chains

"This one is beautiful, don't you think?" they ask. They carefully attach it to the handle of the full basket. "You can have it."

"Why?" It comes out unbidden. A low growl. Distrusting

"It would match your eyes."

How would they know? How can they see his eyes?

Before he can demand answers, they hang their lighter basket on their arm and exit through one of the sides. He chases after, going through the front and around to not be ambushed, but he sees no one. Even down the paths, there is no one. Their scent, heady and warm, is gone, too

He stares at this basket a long while. Sniffs at it for poison. But there is nothing tainted here. He takes it, necklace and all, back to his lair

-

It is months before he returns again. Winter set in upon the land and he hibernated for the season, only conscious enough to worry about his treasure surrounding him

The snow is thawing now. Dripping from plants and the eaves of buildings. Puddling on cobble and creating dark mud

As he gathers his energy back, he watches the temple. Lidded eyes, cheek resting on his arm as his body embraces the heat of the sun on his little cliff, he watches the people come to pray. There are far less than before. Dozens reduced to a mere handful, with very little to offer

When night falls, he drifts down, curious to know just how much was left. The being is there, too

They seem different this time. Their fingers tremble as they lift handwoven scarves and shawls from the altar and wrap themselves up tightly. They do not stand as tall, hunching in to preserve warmth. They do not hum. He does not hide. They are too frail to hurt him

They still smile once they sense his presence. "It's been a long winter, hm?"

They sigh as they plop heavily on a floor cushion. Draw in their knees close, resting their cheek upon them and resting their eyes. There is very little food on the altar, and no jewelry

"You can have the food," they say, soft and tired

He carefully stalks forward, but they don't move. He eyes the food. A couple small fish, a few hard nuts. A meager offering. He sneers at it

They laugh, like windchimes in the wind. He looks sharply at them, and they stare up at him in turn, smiling. "Winter is difficult for everyone," they say. "I do not hold it against them."

He grumbles, shaking his head. "I can find better myself."

They hum. Close their eyes once more. Their breathing evens, lips parting slightly. Fast asleep, despite his presence there

He turns back to the altar, then at the figure. He leaves without any reward

-

As the land grows warmer, more people visit the temple. On his visits during this time, the figure is lively and the altar is full of goods. They always seem to know when he will be there, always with a basket for him. He tries not to rely on it, but the food is always appreciated nonetheless - and so is the occasional necklace or ring

Seasons pass and he grows accustomed to the mystery person. They give him his distance, allowing him to close to space between. They do not force him to speak, but they always give him the option to. They do not shy away from his beastly nature

On one night he asks, "Are you the god this temple is for?"

They smile like they're proud he figured it out. They nod, and introduce themselves as such. He gives her his own name and they say it like it is not a guttural, harsh name built in flame, but a soft babbling brook scattered with flower petals

In winter, he hibernates and they grow weak with the lack of offerings and prayers. In the early spring, he never takes their offered food, nor just before winter, even if he would do better with it to aid his hibernating supplies

Years pass in familiarity and security. And for a while, the mortal folk come and tend to the eroded walls and burnt out candles

But slowly, as seasons pass, the visitors become fewer. The walls crumble and crack. The wax burns down to the wick

He has tried to mitigate the effects this has on the god. He catches them salmon during the height of the season. Harvests berries from the forests and honey from overgrown hives. It does nothing to slow the progression

Each day, the god grows weaker and weaker. More exhausted. More weary. They smile and hum their songs, but they do not adorn enough jewelry to jingle with each slight movement

"You're not mortal," they tell him one night, when he in his desperation dragged a bear's corpse to the temple in offering. "It doesn't work..."

It is that same night that they smiled at him as they shuffled over to the altar and the baskets. The night that they dropped the basket they tried to offer him, spilling what little there was to give before collapsing themselves. He barely catches them in time

He holds them in his lap, cradling their body to his chest. They're so cold. They lean into his warmth greedily, aching to soak in even a sliver of the heat. "Is there nothing I can do?"

Their breathing grows shaky the longer they lay there. "I have never... seen the sunrise..." they admit to him. And no wonder; the sun sets on this side of the mountain the temple is set into, but rises on the completely opposite side. There would be no way to see it from here

He carefully hooks his arm under their legs and back and lifts them up. They feel like nothing in his arms. Their whole body rocks with every step

He holds them tightly and securely as he extends his wings and lifts off into the sky. High up, over the chilly top of the mountain. They shiver in his arms. Down he descends, until the air is warmer, to a ledge in the mountain, covered in soft grass and stubborn weeds

As they wait, he wraps his wings around them. Breathes tempered heat from his chest to warm them, even though it makes him feel sick to do so. It's futile, nonetheless. Their skin never grows any warmer

"Look," he whispers, as the sky on the horizon begins to turn purple. "The sun is rising."

From where their head rests on his shoulder, they weakly crack their eyes open. Every breath feels labored. But the pink reflects in their irises, and he can't stop staring

As they watch the sun rise over the land, he watches them

The sun is only halfway risen when they smile. Watery eyes turning to him. "Thank you... Sylus..."

Golden flecks of light take over their body like a million fireflies. What little weight resting in his arms turns to air as each golden granule floats away, dissipating in the morning air. He holds onto the last one for as long as he can, reaching out with dark claws to greedily claim just one fragment of their life for himself for just one moment longer

And then he is alone

The sun hurts his eyes. All he can bear to do is stare at his hands and the grass, and the lingering traces of their presence in the broken green blades and creased skin

-

When he is exploring the depths of the N109 Zone and he comes across the crumbling stone visage of a familiar face, he leaves a red jeweled necklace on a silver chain around its neck as the sun rises to cast warm rays on its smile

[crowfish-brainrot]

LaDs Men Ranked on how often they sniff your panties

People always say Caleb does this, but he's FAR from the only panty sniffer in the group. Here are my thoughts on this obviously very important topic.

MDNI. Explicit! Panty sniffing.

5. ZAYNE

Rarely sniffs your panties. Only just before he's going to eat.

However, he will put them in your mouth when you're being "too loud"

4. XAVIER

He'll sniff your panties sometimes when he misses you, or if you're gone out of town on a mission or something. It's not a habit, but it's something that happens.

He likes to come in your panties before you two have to go out, though.

3. SYLUS

He prefers the real thing in his face, but he will hold onto a pair or two to keep your scent handy. He definitely uses them when you two have phone sex or if he misses you.

To be honest, he really likes your scent in general and wants it everywhere. He will absolutely have a bottle of your favorite perfume that he'll spray when he misses you.

2. RAFAYEL

Rafayel is almost as bad as Caleb, tbh. The only reason he's not number one is because he's better at hiding it and I don't think he can help himself. It's probably an instinctual thing for him to inhale your scent. You are his bonded, the one he's waited so long for. He genuinely loves your scent in the same way Sylus does, and he wants to scent you all. the. time.

He rips your panties off every time you two have sex. He keeps them in a drawer for later use. Beyond just your panties, though, anything you wore and left at his studio? Yep, he wants to keep those, too. He's sniffing it all, and definitely using them when he misses you or when you're having phone sex.

I have a hc I wanna turn into a fic where he catches MC in his cardigan & he loses his fucking mind because she's blending their scents and it's as if she touched his dick by doing that, but I'm trying to finish up one fic series at a time, so I'll get there.

1. CALEB

Number One for a reason. He also just wants your scent on him (why do you think he uses your body wash???) but also, he's the one who actively jerks off with your panties without you knowing about it. At least, not until you catch him in the act.

He keeps a pair in a baggie that he stores in his luggage when he's going to be away with the Fleet for awhile. He's gotta keep the scent fresh and you close somehow.

I was gonna make this into an entire drabble fic but tbh I think this will come up in my main fics so for now I'm leaving you with just the head cannons.

[rekino2114]

Yoru x male reader scenarios

A/n:I really liked doing the death post, so I decided to do one for all of the horsemen...probably. also, just to clarify, asa is in here too, and you are also in a relationship with her, these scenarios are just mostly yoru centric

"Holy shit! Is that real?"

Yoru gasped and excitedly grabbed your hand and ran over to one of the tanks in display. she barely took notice of the red rope around the display and started inspecting the tank from as close as she physically could

"Well it's on display so I assume so"

"This is a soviet is-3 model it was produced near the end of the war to be an improved version of the is-2 which was made as a counter to the german's more advanced tanks, did you know it's the main inspiration for most post-war tank designs?"

"......that's.......nice to know"

"......how do you know that?"

"Why shouldn't i? I know basically everything about the wars you humans had, they're what gives me power after all, plus they're so entertaining to watch"

"...and you never helped me in a history test?"

"You never asked"

"If I had known you'd be this into it I would have brought you to a war museum earlier"

"What do you mean?"

"This is the first time I've seen you so excited for anything human....or to be honest anything that isn't killing humans or destruction, you look like asa when we went to the aquarium for the first time"

Yoru blushed and looked away embarrassed

"D-don't compare me to her, we're nothing alike!"

"You're going around spouting random facts and looking and pointing at everything, that's literally the same thing asa did, the only difference is you're talking about world war two and not marine life"

".................."

"I can't say he's wrong, even if it does feel kinda weird being compared to you"

"That's my line!"

"Anyway its nice"

"Huh?"

"I like seeing you happy and talking about something you're interested in..........even if that thing is war"

Yoru blushed even more and turned around, trying to hide her red face. However, you could see a small smile forming on her face

"........t-thanks I guess"

"It's nothing, should we keep going?"

"......yeah"

Basically as soon as you continued your walk yoru pointed at a uniform on display

"It's an actual Japanese war general uniform! Can I wear it?"

".........no"

"What? Why?"

"It's on display for a reason, you can't just wear it, you'll get in trouble"

"Tch, who cares about that? As if humans rules can stop me!"

"..............."

".......fine"

"Oi asa, what are those two doing?"

"Hm?"

Asa looked up from her phone and saw two kids playing with beetles on a nearby bench in the park

"Oh they're probably beetle fighting"

"........beetle fighting?"

"It's something some kids do around this time of the year in thiw country, they catch beetles and make them fight with each other"

"....so human children enjoy making lesser species battle each other for their entertainment"

".......how did you make a children's game sound like torture?"

"Sounds fun, can I play too?"

"Ugh, sure I guess do whatever you want, I'm not playing with you though"

"Like I'd ask you in the first place, I'm calling y/n I'll have way more fun with him anyway"

".............."

Yoru did end up calling you and telling you she wanted to play beetle fighting with you. You agreed cause it was rare for her to play a relatively normal game with you and so asa let her take control of the body while she went to catch a beetle, you did the same just picking up the first one that you saw

You waited for yoru at the place you agreed on for quite a bit, it seemed like she took quite a bit of time to pick her beetle

"I'm here!"

You saw her run towards you holding something in her hands

"Hey no peeking! I've trained Hannibal to be the best soldier possible, he'll destroy your beetle!"

".......you named your beetle?"

".......you didn't?"

"You're really getting into this"

"S-shut up! Let's fight now!"

You placed your beetle in the improvised arena made out of a tree stump, and yoru did the same. You looked at her beetle and saw it had something very........peculiar on top of its head

".....yoru....I am going to ask this in the calmest way possible.....but why the fuck does your beetle have a cannon on its head!?"

"Isn't it obvious? I had to make the perfect war machine so I just turned a random small bug in a cannon and put it on Hannibal"

"...You're taking this way too seriously"

"Shut up I'm gonna win this battle"

"It's a children's game"

"Who cares? Just start fighting before I make you forfeit"

"Well.....I can't just make them fight you know?"

".........huh?"

Yoru looked down to see that the beetles were not fighting but just kinda......lounging around not doing anything

"See?"

"....HANNIBAL! FIGHT!"

Her yell resulted in absolutely nothing as the beetles continued to not do anything

"You're a soldier! You need to obey me! DESTROY YOUR ENEMY!"

".....please calm down yoru"

Ironically not only did Hannibal not move but your own beetle started moving towards it and throwing it outside of the ring with its mandibles

"..h-huh? What!?"

"Oh....guess I won"

Yoru looked so dejected and shocked that she kicked the tree causing asa to get hurt in the meantime

"H-hey what's that for? Remember that's my body!"

"Shut up!"

You approached her and put your hand on her shoulder

".....would eating ice cream while cuddling help you feel better"

".......yes"

These next two ideas were given to me by: @michaelaftonhasjoinedthechat yes again, he has given me a lot of ideas for posts like this. Thanks so much man

"Hey asa, I don't mean to intrude but...what is that?"

It had been a while since you had been inside your girlfriend's room and as you entered you noticed something you hadn't seen before, some pictures of you two on dates hung up on a wall of the room

"O-oh that?....t-this is kinda embarrassing but I kinda like to put up polaroids of dates we go to on this wall. It's for the memories b-but I'll stop it if you don't want to"

"No don't worry I love it, it's really cute"

Asa blushed but smiled at you

"T-thank you"

"So.....do you wanna show me?"

"H-huh? You mean the wall?"

"Yeah of course"

"....oh...sure"

Asa was surprisingly by your enthusiasm but happily started to show you all the different photos of you two

"This is of our first aquarium date, and this is when we went to that cat cafe a-and this is one of my favorite it's when-"

In the middle of her explanation, asa's head fell down. You tried to shake her shoulder to help, but before you could touch her, she grabbed your hand and raised her while opening her eyes.....well they were red and had rings on them so they clearly weren't hers anymore

"Yo"

"Hi yoru, what's up?"

"I was watching asa show you all these pointless pictures and that reminded me I wanted to show you something similar too"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah look"

She got up and went towards asa's closet, opened it, and tossed out all of her clothes to reveal that on the wall of the wardrobe there were a lot of pictures of you two on dates too, just like with asa's wall only this ones looked......different

All of the pictures weren't held up by pins or tape but by knives and different types of small swords and blades, in the middle of all of them there was a specific photo, a selfie of you two holding peace signs while yoru stuck her tongue out with a bloody sword in her hand and an almost unrecognizable form in the background surrounded by the same blood. The picture was labeled "first time defending y/n from a devil" and it was completely surrounded by an array of small knives arranged in a heart shape

"So what do you think of it?"

".......it.......definitely shows your personality"

"Right, it's nothing like asa's basic stuff, do you like it?"

You looked at her, seeing her smile so brightly looking at your pictures was cute in a way, you knew her way to show love was.. particular to say the least but it was still love so you just put your concerns away and smiled at her

"Y-yeah I love it"

"I knew it, my wall is way better than asa's right?"

"You know I never answer stuff like that, I love both of you and whatever you do equally"

"You say that but I know I'm your favorite, there's no harm in admitting it, asa won't hear you anyway"

"....whatever"

A few hours after you left asa decided to go to sleep and so she went to open the closet to put on her pajamas....only to...see what was there

"YORU!"

"What is it now?"

"What the hell is that wall?"

"It's the same thing you have, what? You jealous cause mine is way better?"

"No, yours looks like a serial killer stalking her next victim, it seems like you want to kill y/n!"

"Hey don't even joke about that! You know I'd never"

"Y-yeah but you see the issue right?"

"What issues?"

"The knives for instance!"

"......I don't see the problem"

"...........I should have expected this"

"Hehe you're so cute"

The dog you were petting barked happily causing you to smile even more

"Awww you really are adorable, do you want a treat?"

It barked again and started panting

"Oh looks like you do!"

You started to dig through your bag looking for your sandwich

"This is supposed to be my school lunch but I don't mind giving some to you with how cute you're being"

You grabbed a piece of meat from your sandwich and fed it to the dog all while continuing to pet its fur

"There you go! Good boy, you're enjoying it aren't you?"

As the dog continued to eat while you looked at it yoru approached the two of you with a confused expression

"What are you doing?"

"Oh I just found this dog outside and I thought it was too adorable to just leave it alone, isn't it so cute?"

Yoru smirked and got even closer

"I can make it even cuter"

"Oh wha-"

To your immense shock yoru touched the dog and proceeded to turn it into an hammer, she looked it over for a while before smiling back at you

"See? Isn't it way better now? Bet I can use it to kill some pretty strong devil now"

"................."

"Hm? What's wrong y/n? You look weird"

"..............."

You knew yoru was.....unstable at best but you thought she at least learned that turning random people/animals into weapons was wrong, but you also knew just how patient you had to be with her so you just sighed and decided to let it go for now

".....i-.......it's cool yoru"

"Heh! I knew you'd say that, wanna go on a date now? I miss you"

"A-actually I think I'd prefer to go back home I.......I need to think"

Yoru raised her eyebrows at you. You didn't usually refuse going on dates with her or asa, but before she could protest, you were already on your way home

"Huh......I wonder what's up with him?"

"........you seriously don't get it?"

"Why would I? It's not like it's my fault"

"YES! YES IT IS!"

"Eh!? Why?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe cause you turned the dog he was playing with into an hammer right in front of his eyes for no reason!?"

".........I thought it was cool"

"Maybe you should learn that most stuff you think is cool is actually very weird and terrifying for humans"

"But y/n said it was cool too"

"Cause he obviously didn't want to upset you *sighs* and now I'm gonna have to apologize to him too cause you don't know how to do that"

"Hey I know how to apologize!"

"Then do that, go to him and sincerely say you're sorry"

".........I still don't understand what I did wrong"

"YOU TURNED THAT DOG INTO A WEAPON! and thank goodness it was a dog because I don't know what I would have done with you if it was a cat"

"Who cares? I'll just go to y/n say sorry and everything will be fine"

"...........I genuinely don't understand how y/n can love you too"

"OK yoru it's your turn"

Asa let yoru take control of her body as she looked down at the board that resembled a map of the world on the table in front of her

".........I don't get it, what do I have to do?"

"*sighs* of course you don't, you didn't listen while I explained the rules"

"You seriously think I'm listening to you talk about that for hours?"

"It took like 15 minutes max, plus you told us you knew how to play"

"Well it's a war game, i should be a natural"

"That's....not how that works"

At that point you decided to intervene

"I might not hear what asa is saying but I know you well enough to understand you're arguing, so can you please at least tone it down for game night? I specifically chose this game because I thought yoru would like it and asa can play too if she lets yoru out during her turns, so I just want a calm game session, can you please calm down?"

"....are you hearing him yoru?"

"It's not like you were any better"

"Just shut up and play"

"Fine.....for y/n, so what do I have to do?"

"Well you have all your troops so choose someone to attack and roll the dices"

"I'll attack asa"

"Eh!? Why? Y/n has way less troops than me in this area, why are you attacking me?"

"No way I'm attacking y/n, we're in an alliance"

"That's.......not how it works"

"Huh?"

"You....can't make alliances in this game"

"What? Then we're enemies?"

"......yes"

Yoru got closer to you and whispered in your ear

"Hey y/n, let's team up to destroy asa, then we can rule the world together, we'll split up all the territories between us and become rulers of everything"

"......you know I can hear you right?"

"Shut up you"

"Yoru.......I'm not starting a military dictatorship with you.....it's against the rules"

"Fine, fine......let me know if you change your mind though"

".....just play the game"

"OK, so I'll attack asa"

"......Of course you do"

"I just need to throw the dices right?"

"Yeah, if you get a higher number than asa then you get her territory and if you roll lower then all your troops get destroyed"

"Got it"

Yoru grabbed the dices and threw them on the table, they rolled for a bit before landing on.......double ones

"Ohhh looks like you got snake eyes, I'm sorry"

"Huh? Snake eyes? The hell does that mean?"

"You got double ones so......you lost"

Yoru widened her eyes and looked between the dices and you

"WHAT!? How? Asa didn't even roll yet!"

"In case of a tie the defending country always wins, so even if I do roll two ones too......you still lost'

"........I......lost.....at a war game? No way, you definitely cheated asa!"

"HOW WOULD I HAVE CHEATED!?"

"I don't know but you definitely did"

They continued to argue as you looked at them and sighed lowering your head

"...so much for a relaxing game session"

[ang3l0fde4th4ndd0gs]

Okay so now I'm stuck a little bit.

I technically did a character setup for one of my characters in the last series.

But now I don't want to write that character. I have to go with the first like 8 I created.

Cas

Azrael

Keiko

Robyn

Chaos

Nova

Juno

Cassius

But at the same time we have Azrael's 1000+ soldiers. Only about 12 of them will ever show up regularly enough.

Maizelen

Blythe

Borizova

Vanessa

Zaylyn

Reyes

Bridger

Ryeder

Glyen (yes his name is spelled like that and pronounced Glen. I needed punchlines)

Knox

Travers

Arturo

Blandon

Caine

Camila

Clemonte

Conley

Darley

Farrel

Levan

Oberyn

Sanchez

Sommer

Tempo

Sawyer

Brady

So it's definitely more than twelve but the point of making the entire series is to put together all of the different characters I've created for this universe (which is a lot, be warned) and give each of them their own series. But the nice thing is that there is a TON of crossover.

However the other dilemma I'm having right now is that I did Azrael like DANGEROUSLY dirty. So I am trying to convince myself not to like write his next little chunk.

But he's also one of my favorites. So it makes me sad that I can't like... fix it. Man could use a redemption arc.

Like yes I understand the taboo of having written a little bit of alcoholism for him. But at the same time he's a conditioned soldier almost from birth. Like he started getting experimented on at a month old.

The thing about him is that he would have to be conditioned a second time to remove his association with the scientist who experimented on him and alcohol because that was one of the motivators. So much so that it became worse and worse for him when he couldn't be using it.

So.

We might be going back and forth between POVs a little and just slowly adding another POV here and there. Obviously they will still get full series. 62k words has become the series minimum though because I want every series to be at least a few thousand words longer than the one before it.

But I think if I go back and forth between AJ and Azrael's points of view for the next 2-6 series, maybe it'll be an easier shift to the next POV which would add Keiko's point of view to the series.

I think I should probably start a collection for this series because it'll start to build up the actual series of series.

I have no idea how to write the plural of series so if that's super confusing, don't worry, me too.

I thought about making Mozzafiato Keiko's series but to honor the original, it is technically just the name I gave the whole universe itself.

So I would probably just name the collection that.

Anyway apparently this post made me figure out where to go next so thanks to my incessant reposting this singular post, I'be figured out how to continue on.

Doing my best to keep up with writing but legitimately made a deal with my mother that I'd keep trying to make like 600-700 a week to support my own lifestyle while paying rent so it is becoming 100% harder. So if you keep up with my ao3 at all, you might have to expect slower updates because dude, that much is like 15 hours of work a day. Not that I sleep much but STILL.

[izumiphoenix]

Before the darkness took him

I've been thinking again (I do that a lot, huh - I start every second post like this) about Astarion's life before he was turned.

We don’t know much about it – maybe even less now than during Early Access. Back then, I’ve heard it was said he was a corrupt magistrate who was beaten to death after a ruling, or even that he was working for Cazador already. But now, in the final release, all we know is that he was a magistrate in Baldur’s Gate, and that he was attacked by the Gur, angry at one of his rulings. We don’t know what kind of man he was.

As I understand from the wonderful series of posts from @litsenn (a small promotion haha), Larian was worried his image was becoming too cruel and could scare away the players, so they decided to soften it.

So there’s not much we can say for sure – but would that stop me from wondering? Of course not.

As for the headcanon about what kind of magistrate Astarion was, I’ll just quote myself from my other post:

I imagine he was young, still figuring out who he was, watching the world around him and trying to find his place. He wasn't perfect, he made mistakes. Maybe he was careless, maybe selfish at times, but I don’t think he was cruel, not intentionally. He probably didn’t consider the consequences of his choices and decisions well. And he probably believed he had a whole life ahead. Not a saint, not evil - just human.

And what was Astarion doing in Baldur's Gate? Why did he live there?

It’s a huge, multicultural city – not surprising that an elf might live there, even though they usually keep to their own communities, away from others. Some elves do maintain contacts with humans and other races, especially the Moon Elves. And I am a strong supporter of the headcanon that Astarion is a Moon Elf, based on his hair color. I like to imagine him with blue eyes, maybe with little golden flecks inside. That’s why I love blue tones for him.

Moon Elves are often described as lighthearted, curious, and drawn to art and beauty. They seem to be more tolerant of other races, more outgoing and individualistic than most of their kin. (From Forgotten Realms wiki)

I think it sounds a lot like him. Or at least like the version of him that could’ve existed, if things had gone differently.

The Cazador's role also raises a lot of questions. Even in the game, your character may notice how convenient it was that he appeared exactly in the right place and at the right time, when Astarion was dying. It’s not hard to imagine that he already had his eyes on the young, charming elf and possibly led the Gur on him, whether Astarion was framed or became a scapegoat for a careless ruling.

Unfortunately, we have too many questions and close to no answers.

Something that bothers me is that while Astarion seems to remember some details about his previous life, he never mentions anyone left behind.

Yes, we know that many of his memories are missing after everything he had to go through. He doesn't even know who he used to be himself.

I've seen mentions that you don't always keep all your memories when turned. Another reason might be Astarion avoiding reverie, which helps you work through your memories, not to relive his dark days in the castle again (or maybe because vampires can’t enter it anymore?). Or maybe his mind has blocked out the past to protect himself.

But what struck me is how he never really mentions anyone left behind. Of course, we know that many of his memories are gone. He doesn't even know who he used to be. But when he says, "No one looked out for me, you're the only one," it hurts. Maybe he was only talking about his time as a vampire. But I can’t help but think… was there really no one before that, either? No one who missed him when he disappeared? Or did he bury those memories so deeply that all he’s ever known, all that’s left, is that twisted version of family he had in the vampire lair?

And why wasn't Astarion's family looking for him? To them, he would still have been a child – barely into adulthood by elven standards. Should they live in Baldur's Gate, in 200 years, surely they would find a trace of him that would lead to Cazador, one way or another.

So I imagine they didn’t. Maybe they lived somewhere far away.

One reason might be that Astarion was sent there as a student and then stayed working as a magistrate. Maybe as a cultural exchange, learning and gathering experience. Or maybe his family wanted to have some connections with human society, or wanted him to see the world.

Another possibility is that he left them – maybe as a rebellious teenager, going separate ways to live on his own. That would explain why there were never any mentions of them and why no one came after him.

Whatever the reason, it’s heartbreaking to think that he disappeared one night, and no one came looking. At least as far as we know.

Of course, Astarion was so young when he was turned. Maybe the centuries of slavery erased the short years of life he once had.

For two centuries, the only "family" he knew was Cazador and the other spawns – a place of cruelty, manipulation, and survival. And even among them, Astarion never formed real bonds.

To me, he always seemed emotionally distant from the others. Maybe because he couldn’t trust anyone. Maybe because Cazador wanted them to turn on each other, make sure his spawns wouldn’t unite. Or was it like in school or other forced social groups where one person is singled out (especially by a teacher or group leader), and others often follow just to stay safe? I wonder if it was like that for him. If he was seen as weak, and the others treated him accordingly – Leon calls him weak, and Petras is dismissive. And Astarion himself may not be blameless – we know how sharp his tongue can be – but it still feels like he kept himself guarded.

Of course, that place wasn’t made for connection or real bonds, but some of his siblings still seemed closer to one another. Astarion, though, always felt apart. As if he never wanted to belong.

And maybe he didn’t – why would he? That place was a nightmare. Wanting nothing to do with them might have been his way of holding on to something – his dignity, his self. But still, I can’t help wondering that maybe some of the others tried to make peace with their new life, to seek comfort in one another, to adjust. Astarion never seemed to. He struggled or refused to settle into what they were forced to become.

But then… the way Astarion responds to kindness. The way he softens when he feels safe. Even the way he never accepted the false family bonds like some of the other spawns did – it makes me hope that maybe he knew real warmth once. Maybe he was loved, and something inside him remembers. Or hopes for it. And if he didn’t… Then I’m even more glad he can have it now that he’s free and learning to heal. That he’s no longer in that darkness. And can build something genuine and real.

[letmeoutofthebasementt]

Felix Possessiveness

SKZ Possessiveness series pt. 3: (when they're in a serious relationship do they get possessive at all? What makes them possessive if they get possessive? How do they act in a relationship? What's their response/behavior when possessive? How do they handle it?)

Felix can be the possessive type, but it's not obvious, nor is it a side of himself he really gives the time of day. He trusts his partners a lot, and is generally optimistic about certain things. He also knows his worth. That's literally what I got, 'I know my worth'. At the end of the day, anyone who would do something to risk losing him isn't worth having? In his mind. He's more possessive than jealous though, I will say.

He feels lucky to have his partners when he has them. Like they're a dream come true, or some divine gift.

His work-life imbalance definitely amplifies those feelings though. Because he's on the other side of the world and his partner is back wherever they are, and it stresses him out. Because he's someone who likes having his partner near. He likes knowing what they're doing, he likes being in the loop. Obviously, they're allowed independence, but he's also in general someone who likes being close to his loved ones or it gives him anxiety, because he feels like he has to look after them and make sure they're OK and safe. So when his partner is away, it stresses him out a lot.

He's the type who's constantly stalking people's locations on Find My. Like checking every five minutes. Probably texts the other members when they're at chipotle with his order saying he'll pay them back, and they're just like 'WTF?'.

That's what he's like. He likes keeping tabs on people and generally just...Knowing everything about them. He's very nosey.

He also just doesn't like competition. Not in a jealous way but in a possessive way. Like 'We're supposed to be together and you're supposed to be devoted to ME. We're supposed to belong to each other so why TF are you letting this person encroach on MY PLACE in your life?' Shit like that. And then he gets pissed and blows up, and you argue about it.

And Felix is stubborn. One thing about him, during arguments he is never wrong. NEVER. He can AND WILL argue for hours, tears streaming down his face, until he wears you down and you're just like 'whatever', something gets in the way of it continuing, or you give in. It very rarely happens, but when it does he's gone. And he's a loud arguer.

Felix is the type to walk away to cool down after an argument, and actually think about what he did/said and your side. So he can calm down and collect his thoughts and be rational. And that's when he realizes 'Oh, i'm being overly possessive right now' or whatever the argument was about.

But if YOUUUU walk away? He starts tweaking to the highest caliber. Because in his mind, in that moment you're trying to walk out on him, and so he'll 100% try and stop you. Because he's like 'Well why don't you want to be near me?' Because when he gets genuinely really angry he's not necessarily thinking straight. All he's thinking about is getting his point across.

But I also think those arguments would effectively stop those behaviors, at least in that specific relationship? Because it's line 'damn, I almost fucked it all. up. And for what?' Like, that moment of self-awareness after is revolutionary for him.

In general, he doesn't like how possessive he can get because it conflicts with the rest of him. He's a more light and fun and happy and optimistic person. He's more floating on cloud nine, detached, doing his own thing. Which always makes the fallout worse because he's having this internal conflict every time those feelings come up.

So, nowadays he doesn't show it at all. He used to when he was younger and more immature, but now he pushes down and ignores that side of him, and is trying to grow from those behaviors.

[the-exiled-comic]

hope you don’t mind me going off of prev anon - but yeah people need to generally learn that flawed characters exist. not every character is going to be 100% good or 100% bad. while maybe there are media with characters written that way (at least for younger audiences from what i’ve seen), this comic definitely isn’t one of those medias. yes, fallenscar does frustrate me from time-to-time, but do i hate him and wish the worst upon him? do i think he’s the worst person ever? no. he’s a result of his mother sheltering him - which isn’t his fault (as far as i’m aware) - and he just got put into a position he clearly wasn’t prepared for that holds a lot of weight, and during a very emotional time in his life at that. he is not going out of his way to be this horrible and irritating person, he’s just doing what he knows and expressing what he personally believes is right. he’s also HEAVILY grieving rn, and is probably reacting rashly because of how much is going through his mind. yes, i do believe people have a right to be upset or angry with him for some of the things he’s been doing, but i don’t think they deserve some of the harsh comments i’ve seen being made towards him.

(if i said anything wrong though, feel free to correct me. it’s kinda hard to put my exact thoughts into words about this whole thing, given how complex these characters are (which i love btw), but i tried my best lol)

even if fallenscar was a character who was made to be hated, i wouldn't really appreciate people screaming about wanting to maim him or otherwise endless hatemail. there are future stories i would like to tell with characters who are genuinely unreasonable and frustrating, with little redeeming qualities. characters who very nearly get away with it, and some who do actually succeed in that. i don't like to think about "how will people react" when i write my stories, but it is something that i know inherently is going to be upsetting to read because that is the *intention*. outside a few scenes in TE, i'd like to consider it not an overtly dreadful comic. but i would like to make a comic that is dreadful and horrific one day and not get flamed in the comments for it.

at this point. i mostly turn on comments because its good for social media engagement lol

all i'll say for now about fallenscar's future is to just wait and see if the remainder of his arc is going to be about corruption or healing. he is intentionally supposed to be frustrating and pitiful here, he has few friends and just lost his last support beam.

[malachianderson]

Kenny...

[Chi came to sit back down on the corner of the bed and reached out for Vince's hands.] Look at me, [he begged.]

We're not fighting all the time. Are we arguing more lately than we have in the recent past? Yes, that's true. But doesn't mean we're fighting all the time. Maybe we're going through a little rough patch again, I don't know. But compared to where we were at the beginning of our relationship...? What's happening now is nothing in comparison to that, and we made it through all that just fine. We're still spending lovely nights together. We're still going out with our friends together. We're still going to your games together. We're okay, Vince. I promise, [Chi insisted.]

Regarding Stellan... for better or for worse, he's a new important person in my life. And a lot of the time, what he wants for me and what you want for me are both very valid things that also happen to be very different, sometimes literally opposite from each other. And navigating that is probably going to be rocky for a while, okay? And that's normal. --Think of it like your sportsball. If a team randomly added in a new coach from a completely different league, do you think things would just automatically work nice together? Of course not. It'd take time and compromise and probably a lot of arguing.

But there are some things that Stellan does that are just completely wrong. And offering to buy me this adorable kitten--[he paused to pet the now (somehow) asleep cat with one finger for a moment--] without talking to you first was just completely wrong. ...And you know what? I was completely wrong for just accepting it without coming to you and talking it out with you first, too. Like you said yesterday. We had a plan on when we were going to get our next pet. And instead of sticking to that, I let Stellan woo me into accepting this kitten that he picked out instead. And that wasn't fair to you. That should have been something we did together as a couple. You're my husband, not Stellan.

For the kitten's name though... [He sighed.] Yes, she was bought for me, but we're married now. What's mine is yours. And that includes our adorable little princess here, [He cooed at the kitten again.]

I wanted her to have a Ken and Barbie inspired name because I love that that's our main nickname for each other and I wanted to just... homage that in some way with the first pet we officially got as a married couple. But at the same time... [He trailed off and shrugged.]

...Honestly? I think at this point it's just been a long couple days and we're both tired and I'm hungover which makes me even more bratty and stubborn than usual, [He admitted.]

It's not that big a deal if the kitten isn't named Skipper, [He finally conceded.] You're right. You've hated that name for months and forcing you to use it for the next 18 years for our kitten is basically just as bad as using it for one of our children.

So how about this... [He lightly pet the sleeping kitten again as he spoke.] ...What if she's just named 'Princess'? It's definitely a pet name. It's a name she'll grow into as her truly majestic long hair grows in. And it's technically both a Disney and a Barbie name since they both have huge princess franchise lines.

...And if you don't like that idea? Then that's fine, Vince! We'll come up with something else. Together, [Chi insisted.]

I never want you to concede to me just because that seems easier than arguing. Because... sure. It might be easier for a while, but eventually all that conceding builds up. And that build up causes resentment and resentment can kill a relationship.

I don't want that for us, Vince. I want it to be us 'til the end. Lola and Lolo-style.

[Chi softened.] ...What do you mean?