#actually really nice to get a little writing going through my system

[deus-and-the-machina]

ffxiv garlemald discourse is so funny because people will go "ugh people just cant stand it when things aren't black and white" and then you look at how the empire are portrayed in stormblood and shadowbringers and its like hm. that seems like a pretty intense and accurate display of violent imperialism to me! Wow I wonder why people in this day and age may find it hard to feel sympathy for them or even hate them on principal. god its such a mystery.

the games like 50/50 to me on how it tackles these themes because I actually like the garlemald arc in EW, I think it has a lot of horrific and powerful scenes depicting how self destructive fascist propaganda and beliefs are, but I also think it doesn't go far enough on some fronts. the garleans' xenophobia is most notably and obstacle to getting them to accept the contingent's help, which is what they're there to do,

but there's never an admission of harm from any garleans on the uuuuuuuuh massive amount of war crimes the nations around them are still suffering from they're just kind of like "we misjudged you...but you actually wanted to help us all along" like yeah thats great now can we get you all some deprogramming because you keep talking about returning to your prime and glory days and I think we need to unpack some stuff you really SHOULDNT return to. im not even really talking about EW proper but the patches where things are a bit more chilled out and people are recovering.

It feels like they wanted to have their critique of imperialism and also have things end with the beauty of human connection and reaching out and these things just don't mesh well because hey a lot of your modern day audience is not gonna like having to treat people yelling xenophobic things at the cast and your character with kid gloves after you showed them hours and hours of the awful things these people's beliefs have done. especially in the present day hoo boy.

[leighsartworks216]

To Be Warm And Comfy

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

I was only going to write down this little idea before I took a nap... And then I ended up writing the whole thing

The crochet theme actually came out of nowhere for me. I cannot crochet anything more than a chain to save my life, but I do loom knit from time to time

Warnings: self-deprecation, low self worth

Word Count: 776

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Slotted between his legs, you rested your back against Astarion's chest. His arms coiled around your waist and held you close, while he pressed his nose into your neck and peered over your shoulder. With practiced hands, the yarn slid through your fingers at the perfect tension, hooked and worked together into rows of perfect stitches.

He'd never seen anything quite like it. During his living years, he focused on intellectualism and law, not crafts. And during his servitude, sewing and embroidering came about from necessity, though he did still enjoy them. This was incredible. He couldn't stop watching as you worked in smooth movements to crochet your little project. You wouldn't tell him what it was, but he was content simply to watch.

For several weeks, this became the nightly pattern. You'd lay back in his arms while he held you, watching you work away in silence or with idle chatter. When you finished for the night, you'd set your project aside where it wouldn't get damaged, he'd gingerly bite into your neck and take his share, and he'd lay down with you as you drifted off to sleep. Usually he stayed, if he'd had enough to eat during the day and didn't need to sip on some boar or squirrels. Sometimes he would read while you crocheted, sharing his favorite bits with you. It was nice. Peaceful.

You told him, one night, that you were almost finished. He'd watched with rapt attention then, studying the way you fastened off and weaved the excess yarn back through the stitches. He'd realized almost a week ago that it was a sweater, but it was almost a marvel when you held it up by the shoulders in front of you both to show it off.

He kissed your jaw with a gentle squeeze around your midsection. "It looks wonderful, darling."

You hummed, smiling brightly. "I'm really glad you think so." You sat up and turned in his arms. He didn't fight to keep you where you were, though he certainly missed the solidness and warmth you provided. You held it out to him. "Put it on."

He frowned, confused. "Don't tell me you spent weeks making that just to give it away?"

"Of course I did, now put it on."

"I'm hardly worth the effort," he scoffed. He did not accept the gift. His expressions mixed oddly - light-hearted joy, befuddlement, self-deprecation - all flooding his system and overwhelming him. He simply could not grasp the fact you'd go through all the effort for him. "Surely it would look much nicer on you!"

You sighed, understanding and long-suffering. "Tell you what, if it doesn't fit or you don't like it, I'll keep it. Deal?"

He sighed, too. He'd hardly be able to refuse it once he put it on. But you nudged the sweater in his direction again, and how could he say no?

You watched with a wide grin as he slipped it over his head and slid the sleeves along his arms. It was... really nice, actually. Warm and soft without feeling constricting. It fit him perfectly.

"You're always so cold," you explain, wrapping your arms around his waist and relaxing forward until your chin was against his chest. "So I made you this. You can wear it when touch is too overwhelming, or if you feel too out of it to cuddle. I just want you to be warm and comfy."

He chuckles breathlessly, tears welling at the corners of his eyes. "I'm sure I'll be very comfy in this."

His undead heart ached. You went through so much trouble. He'd seen you struggle to find enough of the same yarn, watched you cuss and groan every time a stitch fell or when you had to undo a section because you miscounted. He'd held and massaged your hands when crocheting began to wear them out. 

And still you persevered. For him. You even ensured it would fit a little loose, so he wouldn't be claustrophobic. It was... a lot. To have someone go through all this trouble.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you up until he could give you a proper hug. He nuzzled his cold nose into your neck, and he sighed. Softly, sweetly - completely relaxed.

"Thank you." He bit his tongue before he could ask if you were sure, if he really was worth the effort. Surely, by making the sweater, you'd proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was. "I shall cherish it always."

"I love you," you coo sweetly by his ear.

He must look like a fool with how wide he's smiling. "I love you, too, dear."

---

Tag List:

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[lamprophonia]

》 [ yandere!Jock. ] 《

masterlist.

yan!jock x gn!reader: introduction. 1273 words. reader referred to as 'you'. cw for general yandere behavior.

DO NOT USE OR REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE.

elijah steele is the best goddamn actor in your school.

the theatre kids could learn from him, honestly, because there is no way in hell anyone else could have convincingly pulled off what he did: pose as the nicest, most helpful and kind student in the entirety of the sorry shithole that is eastview high for four years straight.

to literally everyone, elijah is so sweet it's almost vomit inducing. the school's golden boy — smart, nice, strong. best player on the football team, co-captain of the swim team, and part of the basketball team for good measure, helpful, always cheery, and he got good grades.

even amongst his peers, he was always considered the most straight-edge one; still, he was pretty much universally liked. he was genuinely friends with everyone, never judging or turning anyone away.

what's not to love?

well, probably the fact that all of that is a lie, an ever on-going act. a carefully crafted persona, custom made to hide the fact elijah steele is a colossal prick.

it's honestly almost too easy for him. help teachers out here and there, talk to the right people, go to the right parties, and play on some teams, and boom, the entirety of eastview wrapped around your finger. he's made high school a game for himself, and he has been winning for four years straight.

elijah's obsession with you didn't kick in right away. he saw you and was... eh, rather neutral. he decided you were pretty enough, and homecoming or some other stupid dance he didn't actually care about was coming up, so he needed a date to look good. you were just a pawn, after all, no different from anyone else. an accessory — good-looking and non-threatening enough.

no, the obsession started when you rejected him.

worse than reject him: you saw through the finely crafted veil he's always putting on — through the smile that's as fake as it is charming, the tone of voice that's almost a bit too nice — you saw through it all, and didn't hesitate to let him know.

and oh.

it hurt.

with a few words and an unimpressed look, without even realizing it, you broke elijah's game. you weren't playing along. and hey, he might be a prick, but he's a prick with feelings. a lot of very conflicting feelings, as it turns out; he's dealt with rejection before, but never when it came to relationships.

he probably should have seen the hurt he felt when you rejected him as a sign of what was coming, that being the growing obsession he can practically feel developing. you made him feel something other than smug superiority and mild annoyance. it wasn't anything pleasant, sure, but it was new. the week after that little encounter of yours, you were literally the only thing he could think about.

at first, it was a mixed bag. elijah was confused, weirdly hurt — he discovered he didn't like feeling either of those much — and angry. mostly angry. that was the only emotion he was really familiar with of those three, so he thought he would be able to use it pretty easily. he does football after all, he'd just tackle whatever poor sods that were unfortunate enough to be going up against him in practice and get it all out of his system. easy, right?

it wasn't easy.

he nearly dislocated a guy's shoulder before realizing that his usual method for dealing with his feelings — channeling them into brute force — wasn't working, which only made him more confused, which in turn only made him angrier. so used to being in control, elijah didn't know what to do with himself for the first few days.

fortunately for him and the rest of the eastview football players, his anger, hurt, and confusion subsided after maybe a week and a half, giving way to another unfamiliar, but much more welcome emotion: fascination.

you still occupied his thoughts constantly, but he finally got a break from the all-consuming contempt he felt. instead, he regarded you with intrigue, a curiosity. it was then he decided he had to learn more; you were an obstacle, a challenge. another part of the game.

he just had to figure out how to beat you.

in some strange way, elijah was excited. this was going to be hard, sure, but his mind was already hard at work, and he was sure it would eventually be rewarding.

and hey, most importantly, this was new! his rage turned to pure goddamn delight at the idea of someone who finally isn't drooling all over him. it's so fun! like a specimen for him to study, aren't you, darling? finally, he has to work for someone's favour.

once elijah comes to this... decision? realization? he gets started pretty much immediately. he knows now that the overly sugarcoated golden boy persona isn't going to work for you. he's going to need a new strategy, and he's giddy to get to work on it.

with negative hesitation, he starts stalking you. honestly, he probably starts stalking you before he actually buckles down and starts trying to win you over; at some point in the bafflement that comes with you not immediately falling for him, he just starts to follow you around from a distance, almost absent-mindedly making notes on your schedule, your friends, class mates, teachers... he decides to double down after that, though, deciding that if he's serious about beating you, he's going to have to up his game.

that's when he starts actually following you home, taking note of your family and your behavior outside of school.

the second thing he starts doing is shadowing you outside of stalking. that meaning, he starts sitting with you at lunch, making friends with your friends, switches classes to have them with you, and joins your extracurriculars; and he does so with the most smug, shit-eating grin on his face.

he starts talking to you as if you were one of his friends, and even though you knew that elijah was probably less nice than he seemed at first glance, you didn't realize just how starkly different his real personality is from the persona he puts on.

elijah starts to treat you more genuinely, in a way. he talks shit about his friends to you, bitches freely about all his classes and coaches. it's a distinction that would feel sweet, if not for the cognitive dissonance that comes with watching him be all smiles with someone right after he told you he hates them.

because here's the thing — now that elijah knows you're not fooled by the overly sweet and helpful guy he pretends to be, that his polite golden boy act won't work on you like it does with everyone else; now, he can stop pretending.

it's freeing. hell, it's almost more fun that way.

he wants to win with all of his cards out on the table. every nice, kind he does to make you like him will be colored by that tension, that dissonance, that confusion.

of course, elijah would never admit it, but slowly, as he makes friends with you, his obsession with you turns romantic. his intrigue turns to sincere care and affection. he doesn't realize it until he sees someone flirting with you — or worse, you flirting with someone — and jealousy hits him like a fucking brick.

he's left to collect himself, once again feeling hurt, angry, and confused at his own thoughts. he didn't even like you. you were supposed to be just a game, a challenge, an obstacle.

what the fuck was happening?

[heaven4lostgirls]

Can you pretty pleaaassse write for regulus black x reader angst

Where they were friends and got along really well and because they're both pureblooded there families arranged marriage for them. But then regulus gets paranoid and starts to think badly of you and thinks that you were only ever nice to him so that your parents would arrange marriage. And he thinks that you hold the same awful pureblood beliefs as both of your parents and he is afraid to say anything about it incase you tell his family that he doesn't really believe that muggles are lesser. Then regulus is quite distant and mean in your marriage and he eventually comes to his senses when he realises how upset you are and how much his distance hurts you and he can hear you crying yourself to sleep

pairing: regulus black x fem!reader

warning: angst, regulus is a bit of a dick but he comes around ! miscommunication (i’m sorry✊)

summary: request above

authors note: hi! sorry this took forever, i’m really bad at keeping up with requests but i hope you enjoy this, i always say im hoping to get back into writing but it’s always touch and go, my mental health isn’t great a lot of the time and uni just piles on so much more, hopefully you guys understand ! 🫶🩷

regulus wasn’t used to people sticking around, he had been abandoned by the only person he ever truly cared about and left to fend for himself. which was why he assumed when news of his engagement to you was announced by his parents, at a shared dinner party for the sacred 28, you two would simply…co-exist. never fully acknowledging the others presence yet acquaintances at best.

what a shock to his system it was when he grew to know what a wonderful person you were, never abrasive or hostile like his parents, never boastful like most of the pureblood families he knew, instead you were the embodiment of everything he never knew he wanted, a calm to the raging angst inside of him he couldn’t quell after sirius had left, and that alone left him scared more than any of his parents threats to present him to the dark lord as a servant.

you two had formed a quick friendship due to the circumstances surrounding your fast paced engagement, you were set to marry next august and your engagement had only been announced in april. regulus had no problem performing his duties to his family, however this one came with little to no reluctance from either of you as feelings of love and respect blossomed from the friendship you two shared.

however, as time passed, regulus could slowly but surely feel his walls he had fought so hard to build up, crack. he couldn’t fathom why someone like you would feel so comfortable around him, how you somehow managed to worm your way under his skin like no one ever could, not even sirius.

except as time flew by, he had somehow found some of that “gryffindor courage” as james potter always declared, to tell you about his feelings, emphasizing that if you wished, he would never bring up again if you did not reciprocate and you two would still move forward together into marriage as friends.

to his surprise, you were much more welcoming to his feelings than expected, you two had shared a small kiss as you leant your forehead against his and claimed “i was just waiting for you to see me.”

since you two were already a couple in the eyes of the public, the only people he had really had to tell was your shared friends. as expected, they all reacted joyfully to the news and you both carried through the rest of your year no longer pretending to be in love, but actually falling into it.

however, at the beginning of your 6th year, you could tell something had shifted between yours and regulus’ dynamic. no longer was he patient and comforting, instead he was judgmental and fast to anger. some part of you knew it had to do with his parents but you didn’t have the heart to push your questions onto him.

as time passed you watched as he distanced himself from you, pushing away your touches, rejecting your offers to hang out, blowing you off when he would eventually agree. you could only handle so much of his behavior before you eventually broke when telling your friends.

“i don’t know what to do anymore, it’s like walking on eggshells whenever he’s around because im scared of him snapping at me for breathing too loud” you vent to your friends as you place your hands on your eyes to try keep the tears at bay.

“how longs this been going on y/n?” pandora asks softly as she shares a concerned look with lily. you blubber out as answer that sounds like “a couple of months” as tears leak past your palms.

“i can’t keep doing this” you emphasize to them both, “and you know i can’t break up with him because we still have to get married-“

“break up?!” lily questions surprised, “you can’t be serious y/n.” she says as she places a hand on your shoulder.

“i think you need to talk to him” pandora says again as she smiles softly at you as you look at her with tear filled eyes.

“…what if he doesn’t want me anymore?” you whisper, too afraid to say it out loud in fear of it coming true.

“oh love” lily coos as she drags you into a small cuddle with her and pandora, “you’re gonna need to ask him to know that y/n” she whispers as she rubs your back.

you sigh heavily and nod before looking at the both of them. “okay” you concede as you try and form some sort of a plan to confront regulus, your anxiety spikes at the thought of him not wanting your relationship anymore, you couldn’t imagine a marriage with the man you loved where his feelings weren’t reciprocated.

the next day, you planned to corner regulus at the library before dinner but as you walked up to his table, you heard the voice of not only regulus, but barty as well.

“reg, you know you’re hurting her by ignoring her” barty says with a sigh as you pause behind a bookshelf near the table to eavesdrop.

“you know better than i, that i can never be with someone who thinks the way she does…its disgusting” regulus says with a sneer but you can hear how disappointed he is by the statement.

disgusting? he thinks i’m…disgusting? what is he even talking about? you don’t think you’ve ever done anything remotely bad enough to be called disgusting.

“how do you know she thinks like them?” barty implores and you hear regulus sigh, “you’ve seen how she acts when the sacred 28 talks about the muggles” he says and you frown, part of being a child of one of the sacred 28 meant you had to act your part, regulus knew that better than anyone else. so why was he suddenly judging you and telling barty about your issues when he couldn’t even give you the time of day?

“i don’t know if i can marry someone like her” regulus says again and your heart drops. someone like her, you repeat in your head, every insecurity you ever worked through, comes back in tenfold from that sentence alone. you stumble on your feet from the flashes of tears and heartache from all your deepest points of sorrow.

you shake your head and straighten your back before reminding yourself, if he wants a true pureblood wife, that’s what i’ll be. quiet, docile,…perfect.

your wedding approaches faster than you can imagine, dress fittings, bridal party dresses and events all pass with a blur. never fully there, you encompass a state of numbness.

regulus and all your friends notice how you slowly fall into the facade you usually have in front of your parents, instead this time, it never breaks in front of them.

regulus waits for you to come to him, to seek his comfort like you have so many times before, but it never comes.

he spends his nights worrying about you, questioning if it’s something he’s done, you’re still sweet and loving to him, just…more hollow than you were before.

you embody the perfect pureblood princess and he couldn’t hate it more, he hears from people around you how you’re not sleeping, always coming to class in a perfect face of makeup everyday when you usually only used skincare, in beautiful dresses for hogsmead days when you used to use comfortable clothes.

he tries to talk to you, to question why you’ve somehow flipped the switch out of nowhere, but they go unanswered.

the day of your wedding, he can see past the makeup, your sunken in eyes and red eyes. he still places a soft smile on his face as you stare passively into the distance, never making eye contact with him while saying your vows.

the distance between the both of you grows larger as he starts to believe that this was the life you truly wanted, a prince and princess, a couple born out of need not out of love, arranged perfectly to fit the narrative of pureblood royalty.

however, one night he falls asleep later than usual and hears you cry into your pillow, small pleas of being good enough for him as your body shakes with small sobs. he resists the urge to reach out to you in fear of you not recieving his touch well.

he lies awake as he hears you say, “i’m not like i was before, please let him love me now, oh merlin please” you whisper with clenched hands and eyes that leak tears. his heart breaks at the thought of you existing to please him.

he had seen how his mother had done the same for his father, how she turned cold and abusive with no comfort and love from her partner, how she pushed her self hatred onto her children. how that pushed her eldest son to run away.

he spends the next week racking his brain for what he could’ve done for you to think that way before he realises that the summer after his 5th year, his parents had implored him never to give you anything more than the bare minimum because nobody could be trusted. he remembers pulling away from you and pushing you away in fear of you using him for his fortune.

the idea that his parents had made him internalize that you would never love him just for him, you were moving into this marriage not because of your shared love but because of necessity. his heart drops out of his chest as he realizes all of this must have translated to you and that he now had a lot to make up for.

he plans out meticulously how to get his wife back and slowly but surely, he does. it starts with small things, a single flower that you had told him once you liked the smell of on your nightstand, a pair of earrings you remarked look beautiful when window shopping. a handwritten letter telling you goodmorning and his favorite things about you in your bag before class.

your initial confusion morphs to anger at the thought of changing yourself all for him to want you to go back to the self he called repulsive. you don’t respond to his initial attempts to woo you, but as weeks and months pass, he doesn’t give up.

he speaks to you, really speaks to you, asking you about your day, how he can help you when you’re not feeling well, what you need whenever he leaves the house, small compliments about your cooking or how the colour of your dress matches your eyes.

you two start sharing small good mornings and good nights when going to bed, which then translates to small hand holding or shared touches between each other. the ice around your heart slowly but surely starts melting whenever he’s around, you quickly become accustomed to his quick kisses on the cheek whenever he leaves the room or house.

he holds you at night as he whispers sweet promises of never letting you down again, grasping your face to look into your eyes whenever he compliments you to let you know how much you mean to him.

your heart is now warm and full at the thought of his presence, no longer a shell of yourself, slowly but surely healing with his sweet actions.

[hattersarts]

gomens s2 thoughts, all spoilers!

I spent 10 hours talking to my housemate about the season after we binged the whole thing in the morning but here are the highlights and the biggest takeaways from the season.

okay i did love the ending, i love that we get the conformation of love AND going into the divorce arc next season (if they're not properly together by the end of season 3 however, i am rioting) they're slow burn and a whole season of them getting to the final 10mins was tasty.

HOWEVER. it was an extremely clunky season when it comes to writing, lots of either set ups missed OR set ups repeated 4 times that they're drilled into out heads. there was also lots of dialogue that really needed to be tightened up. the lesbians were so poorly written i thought they might have needed to be cut BUT they just needed to have more bearing on the rest of the plot AND say things like real people would say things and LITERALLY SHOW ONE SINGLE REASON WHY THEY WOULD LIKE EACH OTHER WITHIN THE FIRST EPISODE.

gabe/bulz romance was the one that should have been cut, have them do more of a oh-my-god-my-boss-sucks kind of thing, lean into them complaining about having to avert a civil war after armageddon stopped and touch on the "structural problems" the angels mention later. Have gabe/bulz be super punished for working together which puts huge fear into az and crowley about what happens if you try to team up as an angel/demon pair (but an extra reason why az takes the job at the end so he and crowley can be the same)

imo it works more if the only mirror of their romance is the HUMANS which should lean into themes to season 3 of how they need to team up with humans (re:"us vs them" line at the end of season 1) to actually achieve their happy ending.

Nina and maggies best scene was their last one telling crowley he needed to talk to az but i think that was one that needed to be cut, it would have been far more satisfying to have crowely work out it out himself that he loves az and wants to tell him (still via maggie and nina but more subtle rather than them telling him to his face AND via spending more time with az in the season)

flashbacks were all pretty good, loved the jobe one and that final "lonely" scene. the nazi one needed some trimming the most (why did all three come back to earth, it made scenes too crowed, have them fight to be a zombie)

shax was disappointing, she was kind of just incompetent the whole way through which didnt make the stakes very exciting, (that whole scene of her talking to the legion was unfunny and pointless) i wanted crowley to mentor her more like when he gave her advice in the first few meetings we saw (kind of in a very non-demonic way, not expecting anything in return) and her to then meet him on equal footing in the finale. would have been a little accidental taste for Crowley to have his good deeds come back to haunt him while showing he's different to demons.

speaking of the finale fight, that halo had NO set up, it was sick as hell but ??? the fuck did that come from. the fight should have been won by az and crowley performing another HUGE miracle together, discorporating the demons (which then would alert heaven and hell something was up in the bookshop and the final scene can happen)

az taking the job from metatron was very good, its consistent with his character where he still hasn't let go of his faith in good/god, he's only been upset by the angels running heaven and still has faith in the system while crowley has realised none of it works and it's only them together that matters. it was nice to show he still hasn't truly accepted crowley for who he is now (tho imo he knows he loves him, he just hasn't quite unrepressed himself) and him not turning down the job after crowley confesses to him shows he still thinks he can fix it. Crowley on the other hand thinks he's now lost him, az has broken he the trust he had in him, he's going to be in big depression mode

few thoughts of good directions for S3:

finally delivering on what crowley said at the end of S1 I think is the most satisfying. the final showdown should be humans Vs heaven/hell with Crowley and az on the human side, helping them win the conflict. there would be suggestions that this is actually god's ineffable plan, this is a conflict she wants to happen and the things that Crowley and az went through are what make them perfect ambassadors to help the humans.

the set up for az in S3 to finally work out he and Crowley can't work out within the unfair rules of the system and for him to abandon heaven (tho not I think, becoming a demon) is good. a sucky ending imo for season 3 is if az somehow "fixes" heaven and via bureaucracy and not via blowing it all up.

growth moments for Crowley in S3 might be having more contact with humans since he's already abandoned hell and it would put az & crowley on similar footing (as az very much loves humans already) when they decided to side with humans for a humans Vs heaven/hell conflict.

anyway, gay people

[luveline]

Hi Jade! I love your writings so much. I often keep them as a treat for my way to work - only if I can be patient.

There is a big thunderstorm right now and I rememberd how when I was little my dad took me in his arms and went to the window to show me I don't have to be afraid of a thunderstorm. That got me thinking about Eddie and Roan. I can really picture them doing this. And r witnesses, maybe before the proposal (somehow I mentally devide their timeline in bevor and after the proposal and moving houses).

I don't know if you would want to write something like that. Perfectly fine if you don't.

hi my love, thank you so much for your request!! i hope you like it! eddie and roan —eddie comforts roan during a thunderstorm. 2k, fem!reader

Eddie knows without looking out of the window that the crunching sound outside is the tires of your car as you park. A slamming follows, then your footsteps hurried in the rain bumping up the stairs. You open the door, ushering in a hail of rain and your funny awkward smile he adores so much, like you're surprised to find him in his own home. 

"Hi, sweetheart," you say, rain rivulets racing down your cheeks, "it's raining bad." 

"Yeah?" he asks, semi-serious. 

He's feeling slovenly today (and pretty much every other day too, though he's allowing himself the indulgence of listening to his wants for once) and so he remains laying down on the couch, but he reaches out with two grabbing hands for you, encouraging you in. 

You frown at his teasing, slipping out of your shoes and your coat, and letting them fall as you walk toward him. He knows you aren't so rude as to leave your stuff lying around. You're as eager to see him today as he is to see you, because you've been separated for a few days; you've been at work and your own home, Eddie at Roan's art and crafts summer workshop, both slightly too busy to come and see one another without causing upheaval. 

You walk into his arms, which is to say you kneel on the couch and then collapse like a dry sand castle into his chest. You're a grown woman with enough weight to make him groan at your sudden landing. Eddie wouldn't change a thing about you, including your roughness, and he takes your hug in stride. 

"I missed you so much," you say, kissing his jaw. 

You hadn't meant to kiss his jaw; you go in for a corrective peck against his lips, your smile sticky with clear balm and smelling of oranges, peaches. Sweet, citrusy. Eddie licks his lips when you pull away and beams at the transferred flavour. 

"Ew," you murmur, wrinkling your nose even as you smile.

"You taste nice, what can I say?" Eddie looks at you through one eye. "You actually got prettier while you were away, didn't you? I missed you so much I made you prettier." 

"You have freaky mind powers," you say agreeably, pressing another quick kiss to his cheek. He must shine in the light from all the spread gloss. 

"It's really raining out there. Did you get that leak fixed last time?" you ask. 

Eddie puts an arm behind his head and looks up at the ceiling. "Ah, she'll be okay. It can't get that bad again, can it?" 

You try to cover his mouth and prevent his jinx, but it's too late. Within five minutes, the rain has turned to a hammering spatter against the roof and ceiling of Eddie's home, and the windows shake in their frames as the wind howls. 

You ease to one side of Eddie to take your weight off of his chest and the two of you peer out at the quickly darkening sky, perturbed but nothing anymore severe at the suddenness of the weather. 

"Maybe that's why it's been so warm," he suggests, trailing a fingertip down your back. "It was waiting to break." 

"The heat?" You rub your cheek against his shoulder, and take a sneaky breath in that Eddie pretends he doesn't notice. 

"Isn't that what it is, the pressure? Weather systems? Cyclones?" 

"Sorry, handsome, buzzwords won't turn me into a weatherologist." You put your hand on his cheek and rub the pale, stubbly skin beneath it with an adoring thumb. "I bet you're right. Do you have enough stuff to survive if we get rained in for the weekend?" 

"Sure. Got a whole crock pot of stew going, with tiny carrots and pearl onions and the works. Sautéed, by the way." 

"Sounds delicious," you say, smiling down at him like he's hung the moon. He'll never, ever get sick of the sweetness with which you see him. "Can I try some?" 

"It should be done now if you want me to fix you a bowl." 

You climb off of him as carefully as you're able to, so you almost jab him in the crown jewels. You're sorry kiss makes up for it, and better the little sound of happiness you make from the kitchenette after your first taste of stew. You eat another spoonful quickly, and Eddie's content to let you do as you like as long as you keep smiling like that. 

He's thinking Roan's been suspiciously quiet for a while when his daughter miraculously appears. She looks exactly like him, though Roan has a slightly different nose. Her dark eyebrows are pulled down and in, her little pink lip pouted out. 

"What's up?" he asks gently, always sorry when she's unhappy. He clambers up into a sitting position and holds out his arms. She rushes forward, burying her face in his KISS shirt without a sound. "Ro, what's wrong?" 

He pet's her hair out of her face. She whispers something, but Eddie can't hear her. He ducks his head and whispers too. "What's wrong? I can't hear you, you're so quiet. Shout at me, please." 

"I don't like the storm." 

Eddie's eyebrows rise in realisation. "Ah, I know. Sorry, baby, I should've come to see if you were okay, you don't like the loud noise, huh?" 

"It flashed, dad." 

"Did we have lightning?" 

"It was really bright, and then the sky cracked." 

Eddie rubs the short stretch of her back, her grubby t-shirt bunching under his hand. He decides that's as good a distraction as any he'll get and hugs Roan to his chest as he stands. "Let's put pyjamas on. Wanna say hi to Y/N first?" 

Roan perks up when she sees you. You're caught red-handed, still standing at the kitchen eating spoons of stew over your hand, but neither Munson cares. You waylay them with cheek kisses and offer to plate up dinner. Eddie things it's a great idea. 

"Before she eats it all," he murmurs to Roan cheekily. 

You harrumph, but the emphasis is lost on account of your full mouth. Eddie's kidding, but if you did want to eat that whole crock pot he'd let you, he likes you that much. Or, he'd let you given you save enough for Roan. She loves loves loves pearl onions. 

He wrangles her into new pyjamas and brushes out her hair, but Eddie's affection and hugs can't hide bellowing rain and thunder, and by the time he's braided her hair out of her face in loose pigtails she's shaking in his lap. 

"It's really scary, is it?" he asks. 

"It's so loud," she says, her voice tenuous as a string of silk. Eddie senses a bout of tears approaching. "Daddy, I don't like it, I want it to go away." 

Eddie bundles her up into his arms again and carries her slowly back into the living room. You frown at them as they pass the kitchenette, concerned by Roan as she hides her face in Eddie's front. 

He pats her back, swaying her from side to side. Eddie can't make the rain stop, and he can't quieten thunder, but he can comfort her. He can explain it so it feels less huge and out of reach. 

"Baby," he says, approaching the window. "Have a look. It's okay, I promise, just have a look." 

Roan brings her head up reluctantly. 

"See all that? It's not scary if you don't want it to be." Rain hits the window, the sound dulled by walls but still abrasive. He turns his body so Roan can see the huge dark clouds above them. "I know the clouds are scary because they're dark, but they're dark because they're full of so much water. The water comes out, and the clouds go white again, that's all it is." 

"What about the banging?" she asks, wide eyes glassy as she peers between the window and her dad's patient smile. 

"You know lightning, the big white flash? The lightning moves through the cloud so fast that it makes a loud noise, but it's not mean. Think about if me and you were running real fast down the hallway. Our footsteps would be loud, but we'd be having so much fun we don't think it's bad." 

Roan looks out at the rainy road and field outside of the trailer window. She's pouting.

"Like a sponge?" she asks quietly. 

"Want to go look?" 

"Outside?" she asks, shaking her head vehemently. "No, dad." 

"No, in the sink! In the sink, I'll show you."

Eddie carries her to the kitchen. You're looking at him with hearts for eyes, and he has no idea what it's for but he sends you a joking wink. He props her on the counter, his hand on her knees to stop any accidental slipping, and passes her the sponge. 

"Alright, RoRo, you have the sponge and hold it under the water." He flicks on the cold top. Roan holds it under the water, watching intensely as it starts to darken. "Now squeeze it, all the colour goes away." 

She squeezes it. Cold water splashes the side of the empty sink basin and it sounds loud in the relative quiet of the kitchen. "It's like the thunder," she says.

"Exactly!" He rubs her little shoulder. "Wanna try the sponge again?" he asks. 

It's simple, but it helps her calm down, and his explanation is seemingly good enough. Roan doesn't suddenly start to enjoy the awful banging of thunder or the rain as it batters the metal roof, but she isn't petrified to tears anymore, and after a nice warm dinner she turns too lethargic to worry. 

You and Eddie sit together on the couch, Roan in his lap, dozing. You've changed into the pyjamas you keep in his top drawer, the fabric soft against his naked arm. You don't have a designated drawer and Eddie kind of loves it, all your things mixed in with his like you live here with them. You should. He's asked you twice, but you've turned him down gently each time, unafraid to be be honest about how you feel: I love you, Eddie, and I don't want us to rush into things, don't want to be the evil stepmom stealing her space and her dad. 

One at a time, then, he'd joked. First we'll get married.

"You did a really amazing job, earlier," you say, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. Looking up at him through your eyelashes, you've never looked so pretty, not ever. 

"When?" he asks, voice warmed by affection, a stickying fondness like the word has been coated in honey.

"When you were explaining the rain to her. You're always patient. You're just as lovely as she is." 

He stares at you for too long. Seconds upon seconds, his eyes tracing the cuve of your nose, the bow of your top lip, and the softness of your jaw, up to your eyes again. 

"You're the nicest person I ever met," you say. 

"Hey, don't go spreading that around," he warns, faux-fierce. 

You're answering laugh is like silver sewn into the air, one slow loop of your breath at a time. Eddie can't believe it, this life, his girl in his lap and his love on his arm, warm and cosy and waiting out the storm without any worries at all. 

"Luckiest guy on earth," he says, kissing your hairline tenderly. "That's me." 

"Luckiest, kindest, prettiest–" 

"If you're gonna do this all night me and you are gonna have a problem." 

You burst out laughing. Roan rouses on your chest, joining in on instinct, her giggles tiny and tired. "What's funny?" she asks hoarsely. 

Eddie scoots forward in his seat to grab her drink. 

"We're just happy," he explains.

Super, uber happy, even with the bad weather. 

[ghouljams]

Hello! I love your posts and have actually been following you for a long time, but through hashtags. I really enjoyed your posts about ghost!ghost and cyberpunk au. I would be very grateful if you could write a short piece of fiction. ☺️

Sorry, English is not my first language and I've never made a request before! I'm hiding behind the fence and watching you. 🫣

Let's do more cyberpunk! I love my big android Ghost <3

You sit in a loose fitting tank and shorts, your goggles pulled over your eyes to guard against the soft glow of heated metal. It's boiling in your workshop, you'd try to fix it yourself but despite your mechanical know-how, you're not an air conditioning repair expert. Not that that's stopped anyone from stopping by your cramped shop to ask about it. You curl forward, rub the leather of your glove against the burnished surface of the bot you're working on. The filigree is coming along nicely, you always enjoy being able to add your own special touch to mechanics. There's a knock against your door frame. You ignore it.

"I can't fix the a/c, take it up with the captain if you're that desperate," You toss over your shoulder, pressing the super heated wire against metal again.

"That all you're hearing today?" Ghost's voice fills the air. You sigh and lean back to switch off your machine, pushing your goggles up to look at the android. The sleek black of his face plate is unreadable as always, but his posture is casual. His arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the wall to watch you.

"What's broken?" You ask, not bothering to rise to whatever bait he's throwing you. He takes the opportunity to push off the wall and pick his way towards you, stepping over tubes and wires, computer cases pulled open to keep them cool. You're doing everything you can to avoid a system failure here.

"Fingers are twitchy, need a screw loosened," He tells you easily. Thank god for diagnostic checks, makes your job a hell of a lot easier when bots know what they need. You reach behind yourself for an extra stool, pushing off the casing to make room for your newest frequent flier. You pat the stool and go to grab your tools as Ghost takes a seat.

Micro-screwdrivers for micro-screws, a mini-soldering iron, a few spare wires and circuit connectors, your magnifiers, you even drag the big light over. Ghost watches you, his cameras clicking as they adjust to the new light, as the adjust to your movements. He makes a quiet noise when you get tangled in the wires hanging from the ceiling that sounds suspiciously close to a laugh. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

You take your seat and hold your hand out for his. You trace the seams of his synth-skin when he gives it to you, looking for the latch on his hand. Synth-skin always makes you a little squeamish, something Ghost obviously doesn't share when he shoos your hand away and tugs the synthetic skin off his hand like a glove. You put aside how nauseous that makes you in favor of studying the new mechanics.

You turn the dial on your magnifiers to look closer at the intricate overlay of his hand. The mechanics of it are mostly familiar to you, but you've never seen anything quite like it. One of his fingers twitches and you shift your focus to it. Curling closer to his hand, your light follows your movements, shining clearly on the interlinking strands that slip around the wires and metal. You poke one of the white ribbons with your screwdriver and his hand flinches.

"God this is beautiful," You mumble to yourself, tipping your head to try and find a new angle to work at. You tap the metal plating at the tip of his twitchy finger, following the lines of spring and ribboning to the root. You're gentle as you can pushing wire and cording(?) aside to inspect the inputs at the base of his finger.

"Fuck," Ghost grits, you glance up at him, his head turned to look away from you.

"Sorry, trying to be gentle," You offer, unsure why you're even offering it, when you look back at your work, "You wanna walk me through the specs? Might help."

"What do you wanna know?" It sounds forced. Strange as that seems to you, you find bots are just as reluctant to peak at their insides as humans are. Traces of their creators still stuck to their servos.

"The tensioning," You decide that's what it is as you locate the offending screw and grab a different screwdriver from your kit, "I've never seen this material before, it feels almost organic."

"It is organic," Ghost's hand twitches when you look up at him, pressing a little too hard against a ribbon.

"What?" You frown, "No it isn't, no one manufactures with organic materials."

"I'm a custom job." Is the only explanation he offers you. You sigh and give his tight screw a good turn. You suppose that makes sense, military made, custom for... well for the 141 you suppose.

"Military really shouldn't be using organics," You grumble, "it's illegal for a reason." You push check the other screws in his hand. Precision is always the name of the game for androids, you don't see any sense in including something as unpredictable as organic material. Not to mention is all has to come from somewhere. You eye the ribboning, the tendons of his hand that lace mechanics together like muscle, likely feeding into some sort of neural net that reads the signals of it.

"Lot of things are illegal," Ghost grumbles, his voice slipping in and out of modulation as his tone lowers, "doesn't stop folks from doin' it."

"Hows the hand feel?" You ask, redirecting the conversation somewhere more comfortable. Ghost flexes his fingers, and you watch with gross fascination as his hand moves, the tendons tensing and releasing with the metal and wires.

"Better."

"No twitches?" You hear the soft processing noise of his diagnostic before he shakes his head. Ghost grabs his glove from the top of your tool kit and tugs it over his mechanics. He locks it to the rest of his synth-skin and flexes his hand again to check everything is in order.

"None to report." He stands, pushing up with his hands on his knees. You carefully replace your tools into their respective holders, try not to think of the feeling of his- your stomach rolls at the thought. This is exactly why you became a mechanic and not a doctor.

"You don't-" You start, unsure how to phrase the question, "you don't have any other organic matter in you, do you?" Ghost stares at you for a long moment, his face plate unreadable, not even the click of his camera could clue you in to his thoughts.

"No." He replies, and the relief that passes over your face is almost worth the lie.

[sasaranurude]

Okay. I've been playing Tokyo Debunker today, since the release happened to catch me on a day when all I'd planned to do was write fanfiction. I just finished reading the game story prologue (it was longer than expected!), so here's a review type post. If you're reading this post not having seen a single thing about this game: it's a story-based joseimuke gacha mobile game that just released globally today. It's about a girl who suddenly finds herself attending a magic school and mingling with elite, superhuman students known as ghouls. If you look in the tumblr tag for the game you'll see what appears to be a completely different game from 2019 or so: they retooled it completely midway through development, changing just about everything about it due to "escalating competition within the gaming industry."

I'll talk about how this looks like a blatant twst clone at the end.

Starting with the positive: The story is charming. I enjoyed it thoroughly the entire time and am excited to read more. The mix between visual novel segments and motion comics was really nice--it broke things up and added a lot of oomph to the action or atmospheric scenes that visual novels generally lack. I like the art in the comic parts a lot. the live2d in the visual novel parts is... passable. Tone-wise, I think the story was a little bit all over the place and would like to see more of the horror that it opened on, but I didn't mind the comedic direction it went in either. The translation is completely seamless. The characters so far all have unique voices and are just super fun and cute. Of the ones who've had larger roles in the story so far, there's not a single one I dislike. It's all fully voiced in Japanese and the acting is solid. (I don't recognize any voices, and can't seem to find any seiyuu credits, so it seems they're not big names, but they deliver nonetheless.) Kaito in particular I found I was laughing at his lines a ton, both the voicing and the writing.

He's looking for a girlfriend btw. Spreading the word.

The problem is like. The gameplay is the worst dark-pattern microtransaction-riddled bullshit I've ever seen. Hundred passive timers going at all times. Fifty different item-currencies. Trying to get you to spend absurd amounts of real world money at every turn. There's like five different indicators that take you to various real-money shop items that I don't know how to dismiss the indicator, I guess you just have to spend money, wtaf. Bajillion different interlocking systems mean you have zero sense of relative value of all the different item-currencies. I did over the course of the day get enough diamonds for one ten-pull, which I haven't used yet. Buying enough diamonds for a ten-pull costs a bit under $60 (presumably USD, but there's a chance the interface is automatically making that CAD for me--not gonna spend the money to check lmfao), with an SSR rate of 1%. BULLSHIIIIIT.

There's like a goddamn thousand-word essay explaining the dozen different types of character upgrades and equippables and equippables for the equippables!! Bad! Bad game design! That's just overcomplicating bullshit to trick people into thinking they're doing something other than clicking button to make number go up! That is not gameplay!

In terms of the actual gameplay, there is none. The battle system is full auto. There might be teambuilding, but from what I've seen so far, most of that consists of hoping you pull good cards from gacha and then clicking button to make number go up. There's occasional rhythm segments but there's no original music, it's just remixes of public domain classical music lmao. I'd describe the rhythm gameplay as "at least more engaging than twisted wonderland's," which is not a high bar

At least there's a cat in the rhythm bit.

And like, ok, I gotta remark on how derivative it is. Like I mentioned in my post earlier, this game is unabashedly aping twisted wonderland's setting and aesthetic. (That said, most of the stuff it steals from twst is magic school stuff that twst also basically stole from Harry Potter, so...?) However, it isn't exactly like twst: in this one, the characters say fuck a lot and bleed all over the place and do violence. Basically, the tone is a fair bit more adult than twst's kid-friendly vibe. (Not, like, adult adult, and I probably wouldn't even call it dark--it's still rated Teen lol. Just more adult than twst.)

Rather than just being students at magic school, the ghouls also go out into the mundane world to go on missions where they fight and investigate monsters and cryptids. Honestly, the magic school setting feels pretty tacked-on. The things that are enjoyable about this would've been just as enjoyable in about any other setting--you can tell this whole aspect was a late trend-chasing addition, lmao. So, yeah, it's blatantly copying twst to try to steal some players, but... Eh, I found myself not caring that much. Someone more (or less) into twst than me may find it grating.

Character-wise, eh, sure, yeah, they're a bit derivative in that aspect too, but it's a joseimuke game, the characters are always derivative. Thus far the writing & execution has been solid enough that I didn't care if they were tropey. If I were to compare it to something else, I'd say the relationship between the protagonist and the ghouls feels more like that of the sage and wizards in mahoyaku than anything from twst. There's some mystery in exactly what "ghouls" are and their place in this world that has me intrigued and wanting to know more about this setting and how each of the characters feels about it. I have a bad habit of getting my hopes up for stories that put big ideas on the table and then being disappointed when they don't follow through in a way that lives up to my expectations, though.

So, my final verdict: I kind of just hope someone uploads all the story segments right onto youtube so nobody has to deal with the dogshit predatory game to get the genuinely decent story lol. Give it a play just for the story if you have faith in your ability to resist dark patterns. Avoid at all costs if you know you're vulnerable to gacha, microtransactions, or timesinks.

[comicaurora]

Hello! I wanted to send my appreciation to you as a longtime fan of OSP and Auroura! I am an English Major with ADHD and your content always makes me inspired and my English Lit. Brain very happy with how good your storytelling is.

My question is what stories inspire you to write or make you want to sit down and tell a story? Your content makes me want to work on my projects, but my Adhd only last as long as I am not disturbed (i.e. need to eat or get up and move). You have always been upfront about your Adhd so my second question is how do you keep focused on your story and not burn out? (Talking as someone who is writing a novel as their thesis)

You have been a great inspiration over the years and someone I look up to as a storyteller! I wish you focus and luck! => 💝

Woo! Interesting questions!

When it comes to inspiration, I haven't really found a pattern for what works and what doesn't. The majority of the time, only new experiences/stories I haven't seen or read before work for me - rewatches and re-reads, while much more comfortable for my brain, don't tend to translate into creative inspiration for me - but it's not like a specific genre, or even a specific kind of relaxation, consistently work for me.

The way my brain works is a bit "no take only throw", as it were. I want to just sit down and make solid, steady progress in a predictable environment with a routine, but what I need is to try new things, go outside, take risks - because all those things give me new material to work with and refill the creative gas tank. When I'm stuck, I can't just hit the gas and punch through the block - I need to back up and try a new angle.

The good part of all this is that whatever engine that's running my subconscious is actually pretty good at signaling what it needs. The ADHD brain will be repelled by activities that aren't working for it and drawn to the things it needs at the time, whether that's creative energy or exercise or cleaning or doodling or listening to music or suddenly binge-watching a show that's not even all that great, and once it's got what it needs out of it - whatever that is - it'll be repelled again, either spitting out a sudden burst of creative energy or retreating to its den to chew on whatever it got out of the experience for a more slow-building reward. Little bursts of motivation and creativity pop up all throughout the day, and if you can pivot to the activity in question - or at least note down the idea you just had - you'll be able to harness that pretty nicely.

This "system" really only works for me because I have an extremely unstructured schedule and nobody relying on me to be consistent moment-to-moment. If I'm following the creative needs of my inscrutable Better Writer In The Back Of My Head, I can't be worrying about things like a consistent lunchtime or classes or a 9-to-5. All of my observations are caveat'd by the fact that I am ridiculously lucky to have the kind of freedom of movement and schedule that I can focus entirely on getting to know my brain better.

When it comes to staying focused on any one project, I've reluctantly concluded that the only way to win is not to play. Creativity needs time and diversity to recharge, and when you stall out in any given work session, it's usually because you're out of gas. This is why I maintain several projects in varying stages of "for my eyes only"-ness - a sketchbook, private writing projects, patreon doodles, music practice; even in the large-scale projects like the channel and the comic I have multiple angles of attack at any given time, where I can as needed switch between scripting, research, drawing frames, storyboarding more plot onto the end of the comic's current draft and lining/coloring/background-ing the finalized pages of the comic chapters earlier. This lets me maintain semi-steady progress on average, even if any one facet of the process is left by the wayside for potentially even weeks at a time.

If you're working on one writing project, one novel, I'd recommend giving yourself some time to do small-scale side-hobbies. It won't feel like they're helping, but they are.

I've started to think of inspiration rather similarly to the way I think about nutrition and digestion. It's a somewhat arcane process that, despite being a part of me, I don't exactly understand what's going on under the hood. If you eat only one thing, no matter what that one thing is, you're going to end up sick because you're lacking all sorts of niche micronutrients. If you parcel out a specific space of the only things you're allowed to eat, you might not get sick (as quickly) but you're likely going to become increasingly miserable as you think of the things you're not allowing yourself to try, or slowly build up highly specific forms of malnourishment by avoiding certain things entirely. But if you start listening to your body and try eating what it says it needs at any given time - oh, I could go for a rice bowl right now, oh I don't think I'm feeling something sugary today, man I could really go for some grapes - you're likely to hit a broadly good balance of health because you're hitting a broad range of things your body needs, even if you don't know all of their names or calorie counts, and your body is putting those resources to good use without your conscious input. Between my brain and my stomach, I only trust one of those to actually understand what a stomach needs to do its thing - and between me and my creative brain, most of the time it feels like I just work here.

I hope there was something helpful in all this!

[love-toxin]

Are you writing for DMC now? If so, would you consider doing the smut alphabet for V? Your post about V just put me back into DMC’s chokehold omgg

OFC!!! i certainly am and i certainly will for my sweet emo husband <333

V - (a-z)

(cws: gn pronouns, switch!v, mild spit kink, roleplay, body worship/general worshipper complex, teasing, power switching, cockwarming, jealousy, a little somno)

A = Aftercare

Taking care of you after the act is very important to him. Sex in itself is sacred to him, he doesn't downplay the sentiment of you sharing your body with him (and such a beautiful one at that) so he spends quite a lot of time ensuring that you're warm, clean, comfortable, and safe above all else. The only problem is that he's usually completely wiped out after having made love, especially if it was a little rougher than usual or went a little longer, so he has to duck out of the way of your caring hands as you try to get him to sit down and just relax--he is absolutely fine, darling, he promises not to keel over so soon. He would love to have your hands on him in any other situation, but he's determined to provide for you in this area, so you'll just have to watch for once as he stumbles and braces himself especially hard on his cane as he moves to warm up a bath for you.

B = Bondage

Bondage isn't really all that for him, and for good reasons: he likes having your hands on him, and what if he ends up not being able to get you out when you're done? Or hurts you? He'll steer clear of it save for the really gentle stuff--he'd probably be okay with handcuffs, for example, because he could get you out of them fairly easily--although he'd probably be more okay with you tying him up if you end up liking that more. He's not afraid of you getting a little rough with him, after all.

C = Cum

As sensitive as his body can be, it actually takes him quite a long time to cum. It's a little annoying for him when he's alone, since he can't get off as easily and he's honestly not terribly sure how to do it properly--but that means he's usually a bit backed up, so the cum he does release is pretty thick and completely opaque with that pearlescent shade of cream. It's quite satisfying to see that splattered all over your face, or leaking out of you when he's finished and tapping out, and he likes that you think it's especially attractive and when you beg him to give you a nice, big load he's got saved up. His tattoos glow a little when he orgasms, too, which is pretty fascinating to watch. However, he's quick to get a little meek when Griffin comes out later blabbing V's ear off about "feeling more chilled out than usual", and he has to bite his tongue while you laugh, hoping his companions don't think about it too deeply before the chattiest one never lets him live the truth down.

E = Experience

D = Dirty Secret

It takes a while before he feels comfortable enough to introduce the idea, but he really wants to try having you cockwarm him while he reads from his poetry book aloud. Whether by sitting on his lap or having you on your knees while he's nestled deep in your throat, he wants to stroke your hair and praise you between lines as he reads through his favourite poems and feels you trying not to squirm, so you don't distract him. If you do, though, he'll just close his book and insist on you getting all that energy out of your system, and sit back while you ride him all on your own or choke him down to the base until either of you have finished--and then he can go right back to reading, either with his cum leaking out of you and down into his lap, or spilling down your throat for you to whimper and try to swallow without distracting him again.

Obviously he's got very little experience, at least consciously--he probably has a few inklings of muscle memory left over from you-know-who, so his instincts are probably a little better than you would expect. But V still likes to be shown what you enjoy, and he wants to learn from the source how to please you. So a little handholding in the beginning is necessary for him to grasp how his darling likes to be touched.

F = Favourite Position

He likes any position that has you on top of him, particularly when you're riding him and he can rest his hands on your waist to steady you. Not only does it leave little room for him to lose steam and end up disappointing you when he collapses, but he loves to worship you from below and gaze up at you like you're an angel that's descended on him straight from the heavens. That's where you belong, you know: above him, above the world, because you're the most precious thing to have ever graced it.

G = Gloat

You want him to be mean? He can be mean....if you piss him off for real. You hate how protective he is? How he doesn't want you killing demons, even if it's literally your job? How he's an idiot if he thinks you can't protect yourself without him? That's a one-way ticket to earning yourself a hand on your throat and a glower that could cut you when he's got you pinned to a wall. One moan trickling out your mouth immediately catches him on to your little game, and just when you thought you had him wrapped around your finger completely, he's dropping you to fall to your knees and bringing his cane around to stick it between them. He holds it firm and nestles it right up in that sweet spot--and all you have to do to improve his mood is make yourself cum. You can do that, can you not? Or maybe you'll save your dignity and just admit that maybe, just maybe, you can't do everything by yourself.

H = Hair

The hair he's got is sparse, but a more important detail about his hair is what he likes to do with it. He loves having his hair pulled, and he can't pinpoint exactly what's so attractive about it, but whatever it is it makes his back arch and his arms shake whenever you give those black locks a good tug. He likes when you play with it too, when you smooth it away from his face, tuck it behind his ear, wash it, run your fingers through it--no matter how much Griffin makes fun of him for it, V will lay his head in your lap and let you touch his hair even when there's people around. It's impossible to help how good it feels, and the smile and the earnest "You look so handsome, honey!" when he asks you how you feel about it when it turns white just fills his heart with so much warmth.

I = Intoxication

Oh, he doesn't drink, but he's more than happy to care for you when you're stumbling over yourself. It's a little difficult when you're unsteady on your feet but when he gets you into bed, it's exponentially easier to watch over you. And each time you make a reach for him, or tug at his pants with a lusty whisper in his ear, he sweetly thanks you for the compliment with a chuckle before gently laying you back down. He's only got so much energy to spare day to day, and he'd much rather use it when you're sober rather than when you won't remember much.

J = Jack off

As aforementioned, V is a little less experienced in the self-pleasure aspect. He hasn't had much time or much thought in his head to masturbate, so if and when he does, he's a little....unsure. Pair that with the fact that it takes him awhile to cum, and he's usually burnt out and frustrated rather than relieved when he finally gives up. It honestly makes him a little wary about being intimate with you before you try it for the first time together, because he's worried he'll make it into an absolute disaster that ends in neither of you getting off. Thankfully, he soon realizes that not only is that not the case, but that the journey is often times even more exhilarating than the destination.

K = Kiss

Kisses! What a wonderful thing. V absolutely cannot get enough of them--each one has him blushing, smiling, eager for more, and that only escalates in an intimate setting. He could lay you down and kiss every inch of your body for an eternity, to study your reactions every time he kisses a more intimate or sensitive spot is a complete dream to him. He memorizes the places you like to be kissed the most, and he totally demolishes you there with his mouth as he makes love to you. If he could, he would get a tattoo of your kiss marks all over his skin, just to feel like you've always left those pretty stains on him and that you're with him wherever he goes.

L = Lazy

Less so laziness, moreso not having the strength or the energy to get up and get moving--he has more of those days than the average man, and he has endless apologies for not being able to fend for himself as he should. He's really not used to how sweet you can be about it, how you offer to close the distance for him--how you touch him under his clothes as you perch in his lap, whispers racing shivers up his spine as his head tilts back and he submits himself to be at your mercy. On those days nothing feels better than being at your beck and call, and letting you dominate him however you wish.

M = Marking

Speaking of marking, he loves that shit. Marking him, marking you, doesn't matter--he's got some inner desire that's immediately sated when he sees you or himself donned in each other's marks. Whether it's lipstick stains, bruises, bites, hickies, or even cum, V loves it so much he practically craves it. He has no shame about walking around with your mark on him and if he sees you doing the same, or even just rubbing those spots that he knows he left bruises or bites in your skin, he gets all riled up and does a lot of shifting and throat clearing until he can slip away and get you into the closest area of privacy for a little alone time.

N = CNC

Much like bondage, it doesn't really strike him as being his thing. Honestly, he dislikes the idea of you not wanting him period....but that doesn't mean he's not willing to give it a try if you'd like him to, because he's pretty good at playing the part. And the one fantasy he kinda likes is one that plays on the whole "Demons and Hunters" idea, where one of you is the demon wreaking havoc and the other is the hunter sent to destroy them. Whether the demon is dominant or the hunter is and whoever you two end up playing, it's usually a pretty good time to get straddled or to hold you down as he whispers about "reforming your fiendish ways", all while you both fight for dominance so you can take whatever you want from the other. Plus, he gets to see that sweet face of yours twist up with emotion whether it's in victory or defeat, which is by far his favourite part.

O = Oral

He definitely does not have a preference because it blows his mind whether he's giving or receiving, but he also has no preference for what he's going down on, either. He's fascinated by what you look like down there, he's got that urge inside him to explore and to discover all those things about you that only he's permitted to see, so practically anything about you is cause for his intrigue. Whether you have hair or don't, what kind of reactions you show him when he kisses his way down your inner thighs, whether you buck into him or shyly squeeze your eyes shut....goodness, you're just so perfect in every way, he could have you on his tongue for hours and never get bored of watching you cum for him. Somehow, even when you're the one sucking him off, he can end up switching it so you're the one on your back and he's the one with his head between your legs.

P = Panties

Q = Quickie

Stealing your underwear? No, of course, he would never do that....he professes it so smugly, and yet he'll turn around and you'll spot a little blot of colour peeking out from his back pocket, knowing fully well that it's yours and he's saving it for later. V's not a rampant panty thief by any means, but he certainly steals a pair every so often either to tease you, or because he genuinely misses you. Or, sometimes, if you're mad at him or he's mad at you--holding those up to his mouth and smelling them a little instantly gives him a head rush, and stirs his groin as he thinks only of you. Sometimes it's the quickest way to get over those little arguments and squabbles.

Usually V doesn't engage in a quickie unless you're the one encouraging it. He likes to think he can keep his composure even under duress and he does, but if his sweet angel needs him so badly you're tugging on his arm and whimpering even when there's people within earshot, he's certainly not going to be the one to turn you away. It's hard to get him to speed things up like that since he likes going slow, but if you take control a little bit then you'll be happy to see that he's prepared to do whatever it takes to get you off, even if it means making a fool of himself and looking heavily disheveled when you rejoin your companions.

R = Risk

Honestly, he's not risking much during sex other than his bodily health and his exhaustion. You can pretty much do whatever you want without worry, because not only is he completely devoted to you and therefore has little to no chance of catching anything, but he can't exactly....produce anything, with him not really being completely human. So pregnancy isn't too much of an issue, and he hasn't ever really had space to think about it, so as long as you're still comfortable with it he's more than happy to do it unprotected as often as you want. Of course the only thing he could be risky with is his health, so if he's having a pretty good pain day and he's in the mood, he might ask if you want to try ruining him tonight--just doing it over and over and over until he literally can't move, and you can pretty much just use him for your pleasure in whatever way you wish. It's a rare pleasure, but a pleasure for him all the same when it's with you.

S = Spit

Spitting on you he can certainly do, but spitting in you is objectively even more arousing to him. He loves that moment when he's getting ready to slide in, pushing your legs back or pulling your mouth open to lean over and spit directly inside--it's dirty and it's filthy and it makes him feel like you're his. When you moan in reply it makes him feel powerful, makes him feel wanted, and he just loses his mind when you turn right around and do the same thing to him; spit on his tongue or the tip of his cock before you start lapping at it. And when you're kissing, all sloppy and needy as you're taking his cock, and you both break away to find a trail of spit connecting your swollen lips? That's something that could make him cum so hard his whole world blurs out and he just has to cling to you and bury his face in your chest as he paints your insides white.

T = Toys

He pretends to be uninterested when you whip something like that out, perhaps even unimpressed. But if you like something, he truly can't ignore it, even though he will tease you about it until you give him a reason to shut that pretty mouth of his. "Why would I have need an artifact such as that, when I have the most delightful-hrk!" He certainly bites his tongue when you ease your new fleshlight down on the tip of his stiff cock, and very quickly help him realize there's a whole world of sensations he's never experienced--but he's going to, if you have anything to say about it. Even if he moans and whines about you fucking him with it and making him waste a cumshot inside that stupid toy, rather than inside the warm, welcoming, angelic walls of the love of his life.

U = Unfair

He's a little unfair sometimes, he's gotta balance out all that worship he's so prone to giving you, after all. He might tease you about being needy, or for staring at him when you think he's not looking, or he'll even get cocky enough to tease you when you're right on the edge and ask you to tell him just how much you want it while you're trembling on his cock. It's so cute when you whine and take it and relent into begging him for what you want, but he likes it just as much when it pisses you off and you manhandle him for it--pushing him up against a wall or pinning his wrists down while you're sat in his lap, and either groping him and mocking him for getting hard, or riding him so roughly he gasps and his hips ache while you throw his words back in his face.

V = Volume

Surprisingly, he's not terribly loud. One would think he'd have trouble controlling his volume, but he's naturally pretty soft-spoken and he's usually not too bad at keeping himself in check when he needs to. That means you might not always catch what he says, though, but you can assume it's usually something along the lines of "I love you, please keep going, you're such an angel, I'll give you everything forever, you feel like heaven on my skin," if not some poetry he's kept in mind when he read it and thought of you.

W = Wildcard

Despite having at least some respect for Dante, V is wildly jealous of him and despises any moment you spend around him, even if he's with you. You can only assume where that comes from, but either way you can use it for your benefit if your beloved pisses you off or if you just want attention from him that you're not getting. Let Dante flirt with you for a little bit, and V will be on top of you the second you're alone with an incredible kind of strength you seldom ever see. That's an occasion where you'll most likely be sneaking away with a limp and have to cover up the marks he leaves for days.

X = X-Ray

It's both adorable and shocking that V thinks he's not that big, especially since he's absolutely a shower over a grower. He's pretty long but not all slender, his cock has a curve upwards when it's stiff and the tip takes on that pretty, purplish hue when he's really needy--he's also got a few visible veins running up the length of it that are even more sensitive than he is, and although he makes it out to be not a big deal, he can't help the smugness that fills his head when he lowers you down on him that first time and sees the way you gasp and flinch as you try to adjust. If you make any comments about how you can feel him stretching you out, or that he's so deep you swear he's shaping you to fit his cock alone, it's a surefire way to have V melting like putty in your hands and giving you absolutely whatever you want.

Z = Zzz

Y = Yearning

When does V not desire you? The answer is never. You're the person who makes him feel loved, and he always feels so protected from the world whenever he's with you. Expressing that adoration he has for you can only be done in the same few ways before he has to intensify it--reading poetry and speaking sweet words to you only go so far, they don't express it completely, and when he feels he needs to show it more is when you have the sweetest, most intense sharing of souls and bodies that you may ever experience in this life.

Seeing you sleep next to him, completely at ease and comfortable in his presence, is a triumph that he never takes for granted. Never once has he thought he'd have such deep, pure love as the kind he has with you, so to see it shown in such a humble and vulnerable way makes him feel as though he has the whole world in his arms. So if you give him permission to entertain himself while you're in that most vulnerable state, V is beyond flattered--but when he does take you up on your offer, he almost always ensures he does so just before he knows you're going to wake up. It's such a privilege to make love to you at any time, but it's far more indulging to get to see those reactions of yours when you wake up to him kissing those precious spots between your legs. Or, even better, hovering over you with shaky breaths as he confesses his love, just before pressing himself inside to creampie you right as you're waking up.

[yourgirlthingy]

Decided that Fezco deserved some love because I couldn't think of anyone else to write about and his character is just *chefs kiss*

Imagine: Fez and you are in his car high out of your minds talking about the future. The night sky is beautiful and you enjoy the fresh air... And things start to get a little bit heated -Wink-Wonk-

Warnings: Drug Abuse, Strong Language, Sexual themes, Angst kind of but not really, Vaping and Fez being an amazing boyfriend.

Word count: 816

The car was hot, a big contrast to the cold air of the night. The familiar smell of weed filling your noses. You must admit that the feeling of being high was nice, stripping you of any of your worries. It was quite late and Ash had finally agreed to go to sleep. Sometimes he is like a grown man trapped in a kids body, other times he actually acts his age. Like tonight when he put up a fight about going to bed early.

In all honestly the pair of you would usually let him stay up but the day had been stressful and you wanted time to yourselves. The edge being taken off by the drug really helping with the headache you had accumulated during the day. Your boyfriend lay next to you, eyes closed basking in his calm state.  

Leaning over, you press a kiss to his cheek causing him to open his eyes. Both of your eyes catching each others for a moment. Still bliss in this state of Euphoria. Taking another swig from the large bottle of alcohol and collapsing next to the gorgeous man. You turn on your side a sudden urge to be close to him washing over you.

Breaking the silence Fezco lets out a sigh "What do you think will happen in the future." You were slightly taken aback by the question. And although he didn't seem like it, he constantly wondered about what the future would hold. For a while you pondered about the question unsure of how to respond. Many thoughts went through your head.

Did you want to have kids? Would you still be living in this hell hole of a town? What would happen to Ash?

"I don't know," you responded honestly. He nodded somewhat agreeing with you. But there was something behind his glazed out eyes. "What do you want to happen?" Just that question set something off in him. You could tell he had an idea and you were sure it was going to be good. He let out a quick cough and began,

"I wanna get out of this town and start a family," a lazy smile was on his lips as he said this. He was thinking about what it would be like, it was obvious. "Me, you and Ash without all of the drugs and looking after my grandmother." The confession didn't shock you but just intrigued you more into his thinking. "I wanna get to a point where I can have a kid and not be worried for its life," He says with emotion clear in his voice at the end.

You just listen to him expectantly casually replying with a "Mhm," or "Yeah." He was quite optimistic but knew not to get his hopes up because anything could happen. Although you shouldn't, you couldn't help but think about how hot he looked in that moment. Eyes droopy while he talked about his future with you.

A sudden burst of energy ran over you as you leaned over and kissed him. Instinctively, he pulled you onto his lap - straddling him. This quick kiss turned into a heated make-out sesh between the two of you. The drugs coursing through your system making you feel like you're floating. Things went from zero to a hundred extremely fast. Both of you trying to get closer to each other. Like you had been starved of each others touch for far too long.

Discarding your jacket, you started to grind down onto him a muffled moan escaping your lips. You felt your body heat up more if that was even possible. Knowing that things were starting to get exciting, he flipped you onto your back on the back seat.

A surprised squeal left your lips as he began grinding down on to you adding back to the friction. "Don't start something you cant finish, mamas," he whispers in your ear. The windows steaming up from the heat in the metal box.

Tonight was definitely going to be one you remembered...

A/n: I'm going to admit, writing this made a little hot ya know. Anywho I wanna know who you want One Shots or headcanons of so my asks are always open!!!.

[brandogenius]

Omg your boygenius x young artist hc was so cute!! Just like think of how they’d tease you like a little sibling (maybe muna does too if you’d wanna write them in) like maybe your parents send you your senior yearbook since you might have not gotten it yet and they are just horrified you JUST graduated highschool and tease you about how young and cute you look in your photos😭 Imagine them just SCREAMING when you win a grammy like for best new artist and the way they’d go to WAR for you if the tabloids were going after you or your getting a lot of hate or like something happens. Think they went to your graduation and we’re just so proud! ok i’m ranting but your writing is so good and being 19 also maybe i’m projecting but you write them SO WELL!!

THANK YOU 😭😭😭🫶 i’m glad you like them!! i love it so much the dynamics between younger reader and the boys in a younger sibling way is my ultimate favourite!!

tiny bit of projecting in this one too mainly because i live for this trope / (if it’s even a trope) hc blurbs whatever you call it !

i’m trying my hardest to base it off an american school system but since i’m not american i apologise if it isn’t correct trying my best to be as actuate as possible !

i’m not too familiar with muna unfortunately! id love to write them in but feel like i wouldn’t do them justice! in the future 100%

‼️ RPF‼️

HC - boygenius & younger! artist

adding on from here :D

- taking away with some stuff anon said the boys are absolutely HORRIFIED when they realise you graduated school last year. what do you mean you were class of 2023?

- “this is a whole ass child we’re talking to”

- i like to imagine they DID go to your graduation. you knew of the boys since your junior year of highschool. opening for them on their tour when they were in your state.

- so many photos taken. ones with you and the boys in your graduation outfit. it was such a sweet moment. your parents meeting the boys for the first time and they surprise you by going to a nice restaurant. you, your parents and the boys.

- booking the biggest table in the restaurant it’s chaos. laughter and chatter is made. phoebe demanding your parents to bring the yearbook when they drop you off for tour.

- i can imagine the boys forgetting you’re not legal, you’re only 19. the boys going to after party’s with your for music awards and freaking out. “SHIT YOU’RE A FUCKING CHILD” julien is grabbing the car keys to drag you back to the tour bus

- when you get your year book you wish the ground would swallow you up.

- the scene unfolds by the boys acting like a pack of wolves that haven’t eaten in months. all grabbing the book to try and peak into it. lucy being the tallest holds it over all of yours head having the perks of being the tallest

- phoebe turns into an ankle biter in that moment. desperate to laugh at your photos and gossip with you about the tea

- you and the boys spend the rest of the night surrounded by the small tour buss table going through all the photos.

- “that guy? he is a bitch don’t like him. used to be mean to me in class”

- the boys got personal beef with some teenagers they never even met before “it’s on sight for real”

- trips to the theme park. it’s so random but you really wanted to go so up they went one day with you like “road trip!”

- the day you win a grammy is the day they feel like they’ve achieved in life.

- at this point they feel like they raised you. i feel like you might be like 25 or something when you get the grammy “they grow up so fast sniff sniff”

- absolutely goes chaos. standing on chairs and cheering (like julian on sunday 😭)

- they’d go ankle biter mode when tabloids and news articles come for you. it is fake news and rumours yet they are prepared to defend you on their LIFE

- defending you, subtly indirecting / actually going as far as @ ting on main twitter. they don’t take no shit and will immediately be by your side!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not wanting to writing a positive review of my brothers moral character?

(🖌️ to find later)

TW for drug use and misogyny

My (24X) older brother (26M) recently ended up getting arrested and charged with some very serious charges due to his distribution of fentanyl. I’m not going to get too into the legal stuff for obvious reasons but he could end up in prison for up to 30 years. I’m not any type of fan of the legal system (US, for clarification) and am not a fan of the situation but can definitely see some silver linings to him being in there. I wish there was an actually system of help he could get but with the rate he has taking drugs and the way his circle of friends was dropping (4 funerals in 6 months) my mom and I were fairly certain he was going to over does soon and he showed no signs of wanting to seek help. So ya know, at least he’ll be alive.

But that’s not fully the issue. My mom and I talked and she said his public defender wanted letters from people to prove his good moral character to read in court and, as his little sibling, figured of course I would provide one. But I truly have nothing good to say about the man’s ‘moral character’ the last time we had a conversation was before I moved out over two years ago. When I moved out my roommates I was moving in with said they didn’t want him to know our address as they would be living there too and didn’t want him bringing his violence into their lives. He blew up called me a bunch of homophobic slurs and that was pretty much it.

Before that he was my biggest reason for wanting to move out. He regularly calls my mom a bitch and a c*nt. He never cleaned up after himself because ‘there was two women in the house and we were f*cking (r-slurs) if we thought he should have to do anything.’ Lovely things like that. He punches holes in the walls, says slurs like they’re the only descriptive words he knows, steals anything not locked up (and smashes through doors and windows even then to get to it), and hounds my mom for money non-stop, usually until she gives in. In short I have nothing positive to say about his moral character.

Now my mom is a very loving mom. Far more than I could be at this point and is in denial about the man her son is. She would say she’s spent the last decade living with the personification of meth and heroin and she will get her son back some day if he could only get clean. But none of that has actually been him. I just can’t have that kind of optimism or denial towards the situation. She’s going to be very upset if I don’t submit something because she (fairly, again fuck the prison system) doesn’t think he should be locked up for upwards of 30 years.

I’m a good writer. I could come up with something. None of it really true but it can sound nice. Make my mom feel better (gods know she needs a break) but just thinking about it makes me feel gross. I don’t even know if it will matter much in court, but I don’t know how awful of me it would be to abstain.

There’s obviously more nitty gritty to the situation but this is long as it is. I just hope I didn’t make my mom sound bad because I do want to say she’s a loving woman in an abusive situation and I hope it’s not to much to ask that no one be too cruel to her in the notes, thanks.

What are these acronyms?

[ya-zz]

I have a feeling somebody already requested this as it's painfully obvious at this time of year (if somebody did indeed request something similar ignore me lol), but.... Christmas with Ramattra? Just some cute gen fluff of making this does-not-care-about-human-traditions robot go huh, this is kind of nice actually. Headcanons or fic, whichever you prefer/have time to make :)

Uploading this one on Christmas Eve, I will get to the one before this request before the year is over-

You were the only one who requested a Christmas theme fic! Such a pleasure to write, as always~

Ramattra x Reader (gen)

Word count: 1267

Ramattra had spent many years on his own and never really grew accustomed to human traditions. He never took part for many reasons; he never fit in, never knew what to do, never had anyone to spend the holiday with. 

When you stumbled into his life, quite literally, one fateful night, he never once looked back. You had been a grounding mechanism for him, one that he relied on more times than he would like to admit it. 

He was pulled out of his meditative state by you almost screaming in the apartment you shared with him. 

“Rama! Ramattra, look!” Your voice was higher than usual as excitement rang loud. 

The omnic peers in from the other room, noticing that you’re staring out of the window watching the snow fall. When you turn to face him after hearing the telltale creak in the floor, he sees the way your eyes are lit up and the smile on your face pulled a few wires inside of him. 

“It is just snow.” He states, wandering over. 

“I know!” You grab him by the arm and pull him closer to the window. “I know it’s only snow but for someone who rarely ever saw snow, even as a kid, makes me wanna be a kid again.” 

The omnic hums, staring out of the window with you. “It snowed a lot in Nepal, back at the monastery.” 

“Really?” You turn to look at him, curiosity in your eyes. “Did you ever want to go out and make snow angels?” 

“Snow angels?” 

“You lay in the snow and move your arms and legs like this.” You mimic the motions, still smiling. 

“No. It had never once crossed my mind.” 

“Well,” you start, hands on your hips. “When the snow gets a little thicker, we are going out and making snow angels.” 

“I would rather short circuit.” He chuckles, but doesn’t seem opposed to the idea.

So, you sat by the window watching the snow fall for a few hours. There were several other children and families having fun in the snow, having snowball fights and making scuffed snowmen. It warmed your heart watching them, knowing that soon, when those families have gone to bed, you and Ramattra could go out and have your own fun for the evening. Afterall, it was Christmas Eve. 

It hit 11pm by the time the snow had fallen thick enough and there were no other children outside. Grabbing your hat, scarf and gloves, you practically drag the omnic out of the comfort of the apartment and out into the cold, wintery air.

“Slow down.” Ramattra demands, letting you pull him outside and to the park not far from the apartment. 

“Come on!” You keep pulling him before throwing the park gate open and dragging him to a nearby snow patch. “Lighten up a little.” 

Ramattra scoffs as he watches you throw yourself down into the snow, arms and legs spread as you start making your angel. 

“Join me.” You giggle despite feeling the cold wetness through your coat. 

It takes the omnic a moment to think about the damages that could be caused by doing such an activity, but seeing the smile on your face, the excitement within your eyes, he dismisses the negative thoughts and kneels down before falling onto his back into the snow. 

His system flares up with temperature issues, but he ignores them to move his arms, creating his own omnic snow angel. 

When you stand up a few moments later, offering a hand to your partner who takes it willingly, you both step back and look at the angels in the snow. 

“Mine looks wrong.” Ramattra states, tilting his head to the side as he brushes off the snow from his shoulders. 

You giggle in response, nudging him with your elbow. “It doesn’t look too bad!” The smile never wavered as you hide behind the lie. It looks crooked, one arm shorter than the other and just two legs pointing out. 

Ramattra catches you smiling but dismisses it with a sigh as he heats his internal mechanisms.

“We never had snow thick enough to do that when I was younger.” You say, a sadness filling your tone. “Whenever it did snow, it wouldn’t last long, or it would snow at night and the kids who were awake early got to play in it all and it turned to slush.” 

He turns to you, a feeling of sympathy flowing through him. 

“Besides, living in the city meant it was always warmer so it would melt quicker. I have never even had a snowball fight when I was younger.” You laugh nervously, kicking a stone as you walk forward. 

“You humans are peculiar. Why would you throw ice at each other for fun?” 

“Because it is fun. Not throwing ice, if you did that, you were a bad person. There have been several stories of kids hiding stones in the middle of snowballs and throwing them at people.” You sigh, looking up at the stars. “Some people take the fun outta it.” 

Ramattra walks alongside you, humming in response. “I see.” 

“Yeah…” Another nervous laugh. “Anyway, let’s head back, it’s getting cold and my back is wet and starting to freeze.”

“Of course.” Ramattra turns a little too quickly, the ice beneath his feet causing him to slip and fall back with a thud. 

“Oh my- are you okay?” You look down at him, trying to hold back the laughter. 

The omnic doesn’t respond for a moment as he checks if any serious damage has been done, and when everything comes back clear, he nods, attempting to stand but only slipping again. 

“Ramattra, please.” You laugh, offering your hand to help the poor omnic up. 

“I am not doing it on purpose.” He states, taking your hand and instead of getting up, he pulls you down to the ground with him. 

“Hey-!” You lay next to him, chest heaving as you laugh alongside him. 

Both of you stare up at the stars, laying on the icy asphalt. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You say, finally calm. 

“Yes. Yes it is.” His hand never left yours, fingers interlocked with yours. 

“I wish we could stay here forever.” You sigh. “But I really am getting cold.” 

Ramattra chuckles as he finally and successfully stands. He pulls you up, holding onto you gently before picking you up and carrying you back to the apartment. 

…

…

When the pair of you reached the apartment, Ramattra still carrying you through the door, he was quick to carry you to the bathroom and strip you of your wet clothes and draw you a hot bath. Even though you had spent the last year with him, it still felt embarrassing to be naked in front of him, yet he had seen your body countless times over. 

It struck 12:30am by the time the two of you were cuddled up on the sofa by the fire. Ramattra had made you some hot cocoa, just the way you had always liked it. His arm was draped over your shoulders, hand gently rubbing your arm as his head rested atop yours. 

His inner workings were a soothing rhythm to you as the both of you stayed silent, savouring the moment you two were sharing. With the fire crackling and the Christmas tree lights flickering, the room was warm and it felt like home. 

Ramattra felt safe. He felt like he belonged, and maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t mind spending each Christmas like this if it meant he got to spend it with you.

[keresnotceres]

MW2 CHARACTERS: School AU

[sfw] cw(s): none !!! As a girlie who has been reading fanfiction for god knows how long, it was inevitable that I came through with a High/Secondary School AU. As a reminder, I don’t know shit abt the British school system so we’re going with my experiences with the American public school system. enjoy dovies <3

Ghost is that one upperclassman in every single one of your co-grade classes that just sits there. He doesn’t say a damn word and you don’t even see him writing down any notes, but somehow, he has the best grades in the whole fucking school. Principal’s honor roll, scholarship recognization galore.

It takes so long for you to work up the courage to talk to him and ask him for help on an assignment and when he admits he doesn’t know they had an assignment to do, you’re a bit dumbfounded. You realize that he quite literally just sits there and vibes the entire time. He proceeds to turn back to the window and stare out of it.

Eventually he warms up to you, though. It takes, like, three months of pestering him until he actively begins conversations with you and you find yourself with a very stoic cheat sheet. He has kept all of his tests and is perfectly fine with just giving you them bc what are morals???

Gaz is the local “i know him but we aren’t friends” kid. Literally everybody knows his name, he’s on the school’s soccer (football, i guess) team and is relatively well known as a nice person, but he only has a few close friends. His grades are also insanely high, you don’t understand how he manages to ace every test while also spending most of his time practicing sports.

He’s the type of person to forget a pencil, however, and usually ends up leaning over to whoever is next to him and asking for one. He usually gives it back, unless it’s someone he doesn’t particularly like. When he tries to give it back to you and you just tell him to keep it, he likes you automatically.

He’s always inviting you to watch his games after the two of you get closer. He also sits with you during shared study halls or lunches regardless of if you or he has other friends in the lunch. Gaz is also the type of person to lean over and ask if you wanna share the copy of an assignment document or swap essays to proofread.

Soap is absolutely the really loud jock kid that people either really like or really hate, and there’s just no in-between (i’m so sorry Foap 😭). Despite this, he’s actually one of those really nice sport boys that will start punching if someone disrespects his friends. He’s also in an abundance of art classes.

In class you can see him scribbling down notes until he gets bored and starts just doodling in his notebook, tuning out the lecture. However, if your science teacher decides today is not a teaching day and puts on something like Bill Nye or The Magic School Bus, he is enraptured. Is also the person to quietly chant “Bill! Bill! Bill! Bill!” during the theme song. Used to hate the Amoeba Sisters until he binged their videos before his Biology final lol.

You start being friends with him on complete accident after you help him with a question on a pop quiz. He gave you puppy eyes! How could you refuse! He proceeds to talk to you the next day like the two of you are best friends and you are now stuck with him until graduation. But hey! You basically have a bodyguard now.

Price is an Honors English and AP Literature teacher through and through. He originally wanted to be a history teacher, but the English position was open and he took it with little complaint. He’s absolutely the teacher you can launch into tangents for the entire class and will take half a point off of your essays for misusing a comma.

If you're his favorite student, he tends to grade your FRQs and other assignments much harsher than he would others, but it ends with you having well rounded essay skills afterwards and acing your assignments later in the year. Will let you hang out in his room during your study halls and is always open to helping you on assignments if you ask.

Hangs thank you notes from students on his walls, has a wild collection of them and shows them off any time another teacher asks him about them. Has cried reading some from students he liked having in his classes.

Laswell is a Geometry, Pre-Calculus, and Calculus professor. Idc what u think she is absolutely a math teacher and would absolutely have a doctorate. People who don't like math probably go into her class also not liking her, but come out at the end of the year wanting to be in her class next year.

If you're one of her favorite students, she absolutely gives you little notes on your graded tests like 'good job :)' and always says she's proud of you if your grades improve during the year. She also lets you and your friends eat lunch in her room because she understands why you'd rather be in a math room than the cafeteria.

Has never been seen without a coffee during the first four periods of the day and a random beverage during the last three. She always has a drink with her and it's become a bit of a game between a few of her students. Sometimes she'll give someone who asks a drink as well. A student she particularly liked tried to pay her to bring them coffee; she gave them their money back and brought them a coffee.

Nikolai is a history teacher that also coaches the school golf team. And yes, golf team; that man radiates golf energy and I cannot be told otherwise. He doesn't understand the kids' obsession with things like Kahoot, but makes them because it keeps kids engaged with the class and mostly keeps grades up.

Being one of Nikolai's favorite students is hard if you don't golf, but if you are a favorite, he tends to give you extensions of assignments if you're struggling to find time/motivation. Also will give you candy under the table if you win a Kahoot, or if you visit him during a study hall he will also give you candy. He gives out Smarties (the American version) because he thinks the name is funny.

If you show interest in learning Russian and ask him how to roll your Rs or how to pronounce the Cyrillic letters, he will automatically like you more than the others. As long as he feels like you're earnestly learning it out of interest and not just to make him like you, that is. If you already know Russian he'll like you anyway. Sometimes it's nice to speak his native tongue.

[winniethewife]

It's undeniably real (Layla El-Faouly x The Moonknight system x Reader)

Chapter 4: It's true, I was made for you

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Words: 1234 (wow)

Layla and I were on a mission. Well more Layla was on a mission and I was stuck coming with her. She was insistent that I needed new clothes, because I had worn out a lot of my current wardrobe. We had left the apartment with me begging Marc to send Jake to save me, and he laughed, saying something about it being “For my own good” or something. And now I was in being dragged through a shopping mall being dragged into clothing stores I knew I couldn’t afford, but Layla and Marc had insisted. I was trying on some clothes that Layla wanted me to try.

“Hey Hun? I think I’m having… zipper problems in here” I call out as I try to reach over my shoulder to zip the dress up but I couldn’t reach. I hear the rustle of the dressing room curtain, and the familiar scent of Egyptian Musk enters my space as she takes the zipper and slowly pulls it up looking at me in the mirror with a smile.

“There. How’s that? Good fit?” Layla asks softly before resting her face in the crook of my neck leaving a gentle kiss. “You look stunning…” She says softly running her hands down my sides.

“Yeah, I like it…” I reply holding her hands at my hips. A smile on my lips as I think about when we went on our “trial date”

~

It felt a little silly going on a date with Layla seeing as we had known each other since we we’re little kids. Spent our school days together, both of our families were always on the move. Her father and my mother were archeologists, working on the same digs while the two of us were constantly exploring the ruins. It wasn’t until my father decided I needed to go to boarding school for the rest of my education that I was separated from my best friend and first love, Layla El-Faouly. We were constantly writing, and eventually calls and texts though our young adulthood, never truly loosing contact. She was there for me when my first serious relationship fell apart, one of them cheated on us and the other didn’t want to continue the relationship after it happened. I felt alone. I had called Layla and at the time her relationship with Marc had gone sour, unsigned divorce papers showing up at her door, Layla then disappeared for a short time, but by the next time we talked she and Marc were working things out. Later I would find out things were Steven and Jake along with their marriage.

But now I was walking with her hand in mine in the park as she carries a picnic basket, it feels like we haven’t been apart a single day. I looked over at her as she gave me a smile.

“Like when we were kids right? Picnic lunches with our parents?” She says with a loving look in her eyes

“Are you going to seduce me with nostalgia?” I laugh, she laughs with me.

“Maybe…Is it working?” She smiles at me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, the way her curls bounced as she moves, the twinkle in her eye like there was always adventure in front of her, even in the most domestic parts of life. I squeezed her hand tight as I smile at her. She’s always been beautiful. She’s always been the girl of my dreams.

When we get to the spot she was looking for I helped her spread out a Blanket. We sat down together and she started to pull out snacks and wine from the basket, she hands me a glass. After a few sips and some light conversation she turns to me with that jaw dropping smile on her face.

“So…Marc told me you were already going to say yes when you went on his date, are you still on that track?” She asks with a playful tone “Or did Steven’s immense knowledge of everything scare you off?” I laugh

“No, I’m saying yes, I will be your third. I’m actually really excited to start this. I mean, I can’t help but find all of you attractive for lots of reasons.” I take another sip of my wine.

“Oh yeah? I’m curious now…What are your reasons?” She asks with a smile

“Of course, we can’t just have a nice time, you gotta pick my brain.” I sigh giving her a playful look. “Alright…Well Jake, he was a gentleman the whole time, very well dressed, lots of complements, and He took me to do one of my favorite things, not a lot of guys take you dancing on the first date. Marc, I mean you’re the one who married him do I really have to go over it all? Handsome, the dry and dark sense of humor, the way he doesn’t go on about things and is always listening. He’s really just a good guy you know? Steven, well He’s just adorable, he’s like a brand new puppy everything in the whole world is amazing to him, I felt like I could do no wrong with him, he was so attentive and he’s really smart but not at all in your face about it, and he’s funny, so funny.”

I looked at Layla and I felt speechless for a moment the way she was looking at me. That look in her eyes I knew so well. “And then…there’s you. My best friend since we were so little, the first woman I fell in love with, the person who was always by my side, everyday no matter what continent we were on, different time zones, different languages…you’ve been there for me. Always.” I look at her with love and adoration and she does something I don’t expect. She leans in and she kisses me. Her soft lips touch mine and I feel like I’m seeing in color for the first time. Everything about that moment was everything I waited a life time for.

~

We walk back into the apartment with several shopping bags of clothes and Chinese take out for dinner. When we walk in we find Jake is fronting, not a usual occurrence. He looks concerned, he’s half way through getting ready to leave when we come in.

“Jake…What’s going on?” I ask as I set the bags down walking over to him

“Hermosa…It’s not good. There’s trouble.” He takes my hands in his gloved ones. Layla hangs back watching the interaction with worry. “I’ll be gone a few days…I can’t say more the less you know the better.” He takes my chin in his hand and looks into my eyes. “Volveré pronto mi amor...lo prometo.” He whispers before kissing me gently. This wasn’t a normal good bye kiss, this was an ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen and I need to feel you one last time’ kiss. In that second I was terrified.

“Te amo Jake…” I said as he pulls away from the kiss. He hums and presses his forehead to mine, taking just a moment, before he pulls away and heads for the door. Before he leaves he takes Layla’s hand for a second and they share a knowing look. After which he leaves. Layla walks over to me and holds me close, touching her nose to mine as we both silently worry.

~

Translations:

Volveré pronto mi amor...lo prometo.: I will be back soon my love...I promise.

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