#and the other cares so so so much because she lets that passion fuel her

[satoruxx]

pairing: vampire poly!sashisu x reader | 1k words summary: basically describing how they bite and drink your blood, description of blood, pet names, teasing, lots of touching lol, somewhat suggestive bc it's vampires ig, but nothing crazy i'm just feral rheya’s note: you don't understand i've been thinking of vampire sashisu since march and ari fueled my obssession yesterday so here we are

no bc the way there are subtle differences in how vampire poly!sashisu drink your blood…

shoko takes a drink first. it's understood among the three of them that she gets you first—she's the one who found you and brought you into their lives after all. so suguru and satoru sit back and let her get close, her smile going soft as you lock eyes with her. "hey baby," she grins as she gets into your space, and you laugh quietly in return. her lithe fingers gently crawl over the skin of your neck, brushing away any hair and leaving her favorite spot open. shoko loves your neck—has since the very beginning. maybe it's the doctor in her, or just some deeper carnal part of her, but she likes the spot where she can feel your pulse best—can feel it thundering under her lips. "ready?" she murmurs against your throat every time, and you'll sigh over her shoulder and nod yes.

shoko's bites are clean, and she usually restricts it to one spot unless she's feeling particularly ravenous. the side of your throat is hers, even though satoru tends to like it there too—there's a silent understanding between the two that it's her preferred area. when she's drinking her lashes will flutter, hints of red seeping into her normally hazel eyes. one hand will trail up your arm soothingly while the other remains still over your neck. she's reliable and comfortable and so so perfect. shoko is fantastic with her control, and since she's normally first, she'll only take as much blood as she truly needs before sitting back and smiling at you. her eyes dart over your flushed face as she wipes her bloodstained lips clean. "thanks baby," she finally sighs as she tucks your hair behind your ear.

suguru goes next, because he's levelheaded, and somehow seems to care more about your needs than his own. he crawls towards you, wetting his lips as his hooded eyes dart over you. you've been with him long enough to catch the silent question for consent, and he's known you long enough to understand when you say yes. suguru's favorite spot to drink from is your wrist—there's just something so intimate about it. and he always always always presses a kiss to it before his meal. sometimes it's a featherlight brush of lips, other times it's chaste and passionate—but he never forgets it. it's almost like a silent thank you for your generosity.

when suguru drinks, his eyes never stray from you. they remain open and hooded, going dark with a mix of pleasure and affection, but they won't go anywhere else. his gaze is so intense, but it's softened by the smile you can feel stretching across your wrist as he drinks. it's like he wants you to know that you are his only priority. when he drinks, his fingers will brush over your hand to comfort you through any pain because god knows he hates the idea that it causes you pain. he hums against your skin too, as he drinks—he needs you to know how good you taste. and when he's done he has to give the spot one more kiss. gently, of course, because he knows it's sensitive and he just needs a small gesture to display the magnitude of his love for you. "still okay, sweetheart?" he'll ask, lips finding your forehead. he just needs to make sure you're still good.

and then there's satoru, the most eager of the three. he thinks his eagerness is justified—he drank your blood once and has been hooked on it ever since. he claims there's nothing in the world that tastes better, and by the time it's his turn he's practically giddy. satoru is somewhat of a wild card as a vampire. depending on how he's feeling, he may tease you as he drinks or just desperately goes straight for it. regardless of what he's feeling, there is always an underlying tenderness hidden beneath his interactions with you. the same goes for his preferred spot. he's like shoko and suguru—he likes the throat and the wrist; thinks they're both fun. he goes for the throat more commonly because he likes how close you are to him. when he's drinking from your neck his fingers will almost always tangle themselves through your hair—he just likes how it feels and how easy it is for him to maneuver you the way he likes. if he's going for your wrist he'll usually just shut his eyes and drink deeply, because gods above is he on cloud nine when he tastes you.

and yet all of you know that satoru's true favorite spot is your thighs. he loves how flustered it gets you, loves how wild it makes him feel. he's almost always feeling extra playful when he goes for your thighs, and it shows in his deep throaty chuckles that he lets out against your skin. he loves how messy it gets too, because in between his playful laughs your blood ends up dripping down over his chin and staining him red—it makes his head spin and his heart race. but when he's done drinking satoru only cares about making you smile. sometimes he'll give you a silly grin and say "thank you for the meal, pretty," and you'll just weakly shove him away with a fond roll of your eyes. but he just takes your face in his palms and presses a warm kiss to your lips—a muted thank you.

and of course, when everyone's done and satiated, shoko starts quietly fussing over how you need to drink and eat and lay down because they've taken a lot from you. suguru is already grabbing blankets and maneuvering pillows in the way he knows you like best while satoru digs around for his favorite snacks that he's always willing to share with you. the three of them dote on you like crazy, keeping you wrapped in their embrace until you're peacefully dozing off. they just love their little human so much, but how can they not? after all, as insane as it is, you've somehow managed to wrap three powerful vampires around your little pinky finger—not that they would have it any other way.

[audisive]

♪ LET THE LIGHT IN.

౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader

synopsis: the mixture of love and hate is a dangerous, but ghost is no stranger to danger.

tags: angst, little bit of comfort, enemies to lovers (?), ghost is a blind bastard as well as stupid, mention of being suicidal (but not really), hate is mistaken for love, mention of unconsented touching

     Hate is a familiar word, ever the old friend. Strong and heavy. It's what fuels him and keeps him going – his strength, both a blessing and a curse. Hate, hate, hate. Ghost hates you; you drive him to hell and back with your word until the thin line between hospitality and hostility blurs and he steps over the other.

There's an old red monster that constantly crawls under his skin, corrupting his brain and his heart. Hatred consumes him at the sight of you. Ghost hates you. At least that's what he thinks.

Fleeting gazes are mistaken for heated glares, tensed jaw an unbreakable habit. There's a fire in his loins when your eye catches his at the right time. Ghost's heart speeds up because you make his blood pressure rise. His guts are twisted and turned to your accommodation without knowing, you're in his thoughts constantly because you're so awful.

Love and hate is black and white, color him blind. There's a fine line between the opposites, and he's ambivalent about you.

Of course he respects you; you're his teammate, – a remarkable one, at that – and he will trust you with his life and his heart in your hands, but as much as possible, he would prefer not having to.

Maybe ye're just no' inta women, LT. It's not that he hasn't considered it; can't help that he stares a little too long at anyone with bright blue eyes as engrossing as— Fuckin' 'ell, Johnny. Or perhaps his own were too dull, too icy, too bland. He lacked his sergeant's passion for nearly everything. A'm just pullin' yer leg.

Oh, but how Simon loves you.

Simon is familiar to you the same way the desert is familiar with the scorching heat of the sun, and despite how it warms you, kisses and burns and scars you, you miss every bit of it – the way he hurts you comfortingly. Loving him feels like snow meeting sand, – unfamiliar and impossible – but if snow can fall on the hottest desert, then who are you to be exempt?

Acknowledging the difference between love and hate is one, admitting that he doesn't feel the other way for you is another. It's not love; you're just part of the team. He repeats the mantra when his fist collides with the face of a man who made the mistake of touching you despite your lack of consent.

Your knuckles are split, sir. He repeats it to himself again when he's forced to sit with his thigh pressed to yours and feels the warmth of your skin against his. I can take care of m'self next time, Ghost.

I know, kid. It's not love. Not when he hushes you instead of yelling and barking orders at you as you bleed out on the floor of the warehouse. "Ghost," you plead for your life, weeping and gasping for air. Your voice breaks. His heart does, too. "I know, lovie. I know." It's not love. Not when he carries you singlehandedly in and out of the chopper, rushing to the medical ward before you can even lose consciousness. Not when he tends to the knife on your side before the bullet in his.

"Sure, the lieutenant isn't much for words, but the way he looks at you..." The knowledgeable (or maybe she just likes gossip) nurse trails off, searching for the right words in the back of her mind. "It's like there's no one else in the world but you – no, actually, he looks at you as if you're the world itself – he looks at you like a god, his. In a way that guarantees anyone that he'd live and repeat the horrors of this life in his next, just for you. And I've never seen him look at anyone like.. that. But now, I see him looking at you. Everyday."

She smiles at you, kind enough to continue. "Don't you think you deserve that kind of dedication? The kind that makes you feel like you're the center of someone's universe?"

You find yourself stunned by her words, your lips parting in the slightest manner. Speechless. She finds more words in your silence. "'Cause I think you do. You do deserve that," she smiles at you knowingly, as if she'd read your fate – as if the stars had told her all there is to know, "and something tells me he could give you exactly that." She's sure of it. 

But Simon is only the ghost of a Ghost. He's fleeting, a glance, a graze, and a kiss.

Too early, too much, not enough, too late. He'd used up every excuse like a box of tissues until he had none, until he'd been left high and dry, until he had no choice but to admit it: he's in love with you in a way that is looked down upon. Desperately, longingly, and horribly so.

If your love was a noose, then Simon is a suicidal man. He wants your love to dig into the skin of his neck, and please take his breath away.

The image of you leaving was embedded into his brain, the same way he had burned the image of you into his mind long ago. His tongue dries with the words and pleads of love, but he thinks he doesn't. So he doesn't. He wants to call out to you – say something that might cause you to pause and turn around, maybe take him with you – but the words don't come, and you leave, taking his heart with you. 

There's a longing that aches beneath his chest, an empty space.

All of the words in the world will not change the reality that he pushed himself into. Life has moved on without the two of you. He has so many things to tell you, but now is not the time.

He calls for your name.

Your breath hitches at his voice before you speak, "good night, lieutenant." You open a barrier between you and him just as you open the door, taking a step out of the seemingly unlived small apartment. His chest is unmoving as an unfamiliar feeling shoots through his veins. He should say something, anything. Say something, bastard.

With lowered pride, his mouth opens just a second too late. He hears the door click shut.

It never will be.

  divider by @cafekitsune !

[charlywrites]

Requested by anon

Request; reader who is max’s half sister and he found out in 2021. After meeting he invited her to a Grand Prix and this is where she meets Carlos. Now I’m thinking like an enemies to lovers where he makes a rude comment when meeting her calling her a gold digger because he thinks max is cheating with her (not knowing that’s his sister). But as enemies to lovers go they eventually end up together

Warnings; mention of j*s at the beginning, swearing, mention of Carlos’ crash. Also Max is really present in this fic.

Note; I put my whole pussy in that fic, enemies to lovers trope? check, idiots in love? check.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Growing up, you didn’t know who your father truly was up until your teenage years, only then you learned about the life he had and the reason you would only see him once or twice a year- he was known to be a formula one driver.

It wasn’t something you really cared about if you had to be honest, sure they sport itself seemed to be interesting but you weren’t familiar with it- and you weren’t too interest by sharing a passion with your father.

You had never been close or even truly got along with him, it was clear that he did not care about you, which fueled a hatred for him from a young age. You never understood why he didn’t want you to be a part of his life, especially once you got old enough to understand more serious topics.

It’s only when you recently learnt that your father did not only have a life you weren’t part of, he also had a whole family you never knew about. Actually, you might have never know about them if your stepbrother hadn’t reached out to you first.

At first, when you received a call from an unknown number, you thought it was a weird and messed up prank, but after making a quick research on internet, you learnt that the caller was quite literally your stepbrother who also happened to be the current drivers’ champion.

It was a lot to take in and digest, hence why it took you over a week to answer Max’s text asking if you’d eventually like to meet up- you weren’t sure if it was a good idea to already meet up but in the end, you could let the opportunity to meet your stepbrother.

And just like that, only a bit over two weeks after Max first called you, you were meeting and going on a hike together- it was his idea, saying that it could be fun and would make it less awkward than meeting in a coffee shop.

“Are you ready?”

“ I’d say yes but I have a feeling I might regret saying that later.”

Max chucked, something was telling him you two were going to go along just well, “ don’t worry, we’ll go at your own pace, I don’t want to lose you behind.”

“ Hey! Don’t underestimate me. I might not be a champion or even into sport that much but that doesn’t mean I can’t keep up.”

“ Alright, alright, it’s not a competition anyways, we’re here to learn about each other and have fun, right?”

And you did have fun, Max turned out to be really funny and nice, you didn’t regret accepting to meet and getting to know him, in fact, you wanted him to be part of your life now, after all, you had a lot to catch up- you would never be able to catch up on all the years you had missed but you still could try.

Hence why, after the hike, Max invited you to his next Grand Prix, you told him early on that you didn’t know a single thing about his sport but he still wanted to show you his world. You couldn’t say know, you could tell how much it meant to him and you were curious to know what it was like in real life.

Here you were two weeks later, completely lost and confused in a world you didn’t know a thing about. You asked Max if you could come the whole weekend as you were willing to try to understand his sport, and he was more than happy to invite you for the three whole days.

Max was busy for a last minute meeting with his engineering team, so with Max’s encouragements, you went wandering through the paddock and a bit everywhere you were allowed to go to- all you knew was that you couldn’t lose your pass where it was written that you were Max’s guest.

You couldn’t tell how far you had went, and it seemed impossible to find your way back to the Red Bull’s garage without asking someone for directions. It wasn’t an easy task as everyone looked so busy, you didn’t want to bother.

That was until you saw a man, that you guessed worked for Ferrari due to his red shirt, he didn’t look too busy as he was looking at his phone. Taking your chance, you approached the man and excuse yourself, “ hi, i- uhm, I’m sorry to bother you, I’m lost and I’d like to go back to the Red Bull’s garage, do you know where I have to go?”

“ Hi,” before continuing he quickly looked at your pass to make sure you weren’t lying, “ Max’s guest, uh? The garages are at the other side, it’d be easier for you to ask Max to come get you.”

“ What’s wrong with me being Max’s guest?”

“ He always has the same guests, but I never saw you around.”

You frowned, not understanding what the problem was or what he was trying to insinuate- it wasn’t your fault you didn’t get to know him sooner, “ I met Max recently, so it’s my first time around here.”

“ You just met and he already invites you? Damn, I didn’t know Max liked gold diggers!”

“ What the fuck?” being offended wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how you felt hearing this man’s comment, “ I don’t know who you think you are but fuck you!”

You left right away, fuming at the man’s comments on you and your brother- which you ended up calling once you cooled down to ask him how to get back to the garage.

To say the least, you felt like a complete fool for getting lost, and the fact that Max told you to stay where you were because he was coming to get you didn’t help neither. It was your first time in this environment but you felt like you were just taking Max’s precious time during those weekends.

That wasn’t how your brother felt though, he was delighted to have you around and was already hoping you’d come to more races in the future, “ so, how was your little adventure?”

“ Cool until I met an asshole who ruined the experience a bit.”

Your brother frowned, unhappy to hear someone had already bothered you, “ do you know who it was?”

“ I don’t know anyone or any name besides you, Lewis Hamilton, Vettel, and since today Checo too.”

“ You can’t tell which team neither?”

“ Oh, it was one of the Ferrari drivers- but why does it matter?”

“ I’ll make sure they don’t bother you again.”

You shrugged it off, you didn’t really care anymore already, you were still bothered by those comments but it wasn’t going to keep you awake at night, “ i can take care of myself don’t worry, i told them to fuck off.”

Max seemed to be amused by what you told him but also felt proud to know how you stood up for yourself, “ well, that was deserved.”

“ Yeah.”

———

It had now been a month since you saw Max races for the first time- and also win. You were starting to understand your brother’s love for this sport even if it would never reach his level, you liked it more every time you’d watch a race, wether it was in person or behind a screen.

You hadn’t gotten the chance to attend the race after your first Grand-Prix due to work but after that, you had changed your schedule to be able to go support your brother on every upcoming races.

The only real downside of attending the those weekends were that you kept crossing paths with Carlos who, for some unknown reasons, disliked you since your first time attending a Grand-Prix.

Naturally, you would always return his shady comments or glares every single time- you didn’t really hate him but did hold a grudge against him for the names he had called you. Other than that, you believed he was a great guy since him and Max seemed to go along so well.

You had just left the Red Bull’s facility, siping some fresh drink when your shoulder collided with someone, who just like you, wasn’t paying attention to where they were going, “ ah, come on! You again?”

“ You don’t own the place as far as I’m concerned?”

“ You neither, yet you seem to always be on my way.”

You scoffed, this was getting ridiculous, you were literally next to the Red Bull’s zone, where else were you supposed to be, “ oh my god, stop being so childish and petty, what the fuck did I even do to you?”

“ Well, clearly you like being on my path and I hate that.”

“ You’re acting as if I killed your puppy or something, grow up!”

Carlos dramatically rolled his eyes, sighing loudly to show his annoyance he snapped back, “ you’re stupid, aren’t you?”

“ That’s rich coming from you. You’re such a fake bitch for hating me but being good friend with Max.”

“ I’m not going to stop being friend with him because he started bringing you around, even if we’d do better without you there.”

You had heard enough and now, you couldn’t hold back all the frustration you kept for yourself anymore, “ first of all, fuck you and second of all, I hope you don’t get to finish sunday’s race!”

And with that, you stormed off, not without shoving Carlos on the side- he was truly an asshole yet you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him as much as he hated you and that even with all the awful names he had been called you.

You wondered for a while, as you headed to the Red Bull’s garage what you had done or said to be so hated by him. You had seen once or twice how he acted with everyone else- he seemed to be nice and even funny. You couldn’t get along with everyone no matter how hard you tried, so maybe ignoring him would be for the best.

And with what you had just said to him, you most likely would never get along with the driver. Of course, you didn’t wish any real harm to Carlos, you didn’t want him to have an accident where he would get injured, you just wanted his car to give up mid race, imagining how upset that would make him.

However, you didn’t actually think it would happen two days later, when you saw on the screens in the garage that one of the ferrari had stopped on the side of the track, while catching fire and the driver was still in the car, you felt incredibly guilty- you shouldn’t have wished that to him.

At that point, you weren’t even sure if it Carlos and not his teammate since you were still struggling with the numbers of each drivers but you quickly understood it was indeed Carlos, you honestly felt like it was maybe your fault for jinxing him on Friday.

The end of the race was a tie between Charles and your brother, during the last lap, you were sitting at the edge of your seat, hoping for a miracle as you heard Charles had a problem with his car. Once the checkered flag was out, you were disappointed to see Max get the second place even if it was still a good result.

As you were told to follow the team, you greeted Max and congratulated him for his second place. No matter how hectic the moment was, Max took a minute to hug you, “ I’ll see you after the podium? ”

“ Yeah of course, go enjoy your moment, I’m proud of you!”

Even if it was a happy moment, you couldn’t help but think about Carlos’ car catching fire, you wished you could tell him how sorry you were and that you regretted your words. But for now, you had to push those thoughts aside and follow the team to get closer to the podium.

As soon as Max was handed his trophy for his second place, you proudly clapped, smiling ear to ear at yet another accomplishment- maybe you were starting to enjoy this sport more than you’d like to admit.

While music was blasting, champagne bottles were opened and soon enough, the three men sharing the podium today were soaked in champagne. As you watched this happen, something, or rather someone, caught your attention from the corner of your eyes.

You noticed Carlos assisting at the podium from afar, while you knew he was solely there for his teammate and was most likely still upset for how the race ended for him, you felt brave enough to take this opportunity to apologize.

Squeezing yourself through everyone gathered at the podium, you made your way to the ferrari driver and quickly apologized before he would send you away, “ I’m sorry for what happened during the race, I didn’t actually want this to happen.”

“ Are you sure about that? I wouldn’t be surprised to hear you actually enjoyed the scene. ”

“ I didn’t enjoy one bit- that was scary, I can’t even begin to imagine how you felt in that car burning.”

“ Yeah, that wasn’t the most pleasant moment of my career.”

You sighed, closing your eyes for a second, trying to find the right words so this wouldn’t end up in yet another argument, “ look, I was angry because you called me a bitch and I don’t understand why you hate me so much without even knowing me. I didn’t think and said the first thing that came to my mind. I’m truly sorry.”

“ It wasn’t your fault, it’s just the engine who failed. Stuff like that happen sometimes.”

“ Okay,” the conversation fell flat right after, as you were unsure of what else could you say, he didn’t seem to be too upset against you which was good, you didn’t want to have this on your conscience, “ I know it’s not the right moment to ask this, but what did I do to you?”

“ You didn’t do anything to me, it’s not the problem- it’s the fact that Max never talked about you before and one day you show up and now you’re basically glued to him.”

“ What’s wrong with that? Wait,” you had just realized that he was thinking Max and you were together, “ you think I’m dating Max?”

“ Isn’t it the case?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how uncalled for this assumption was, “ not at all, I’m his sister- well, step-sister but that’s the same to me.”

“ Oh,” you could tell how embarrassed Carlos was at that exact moment and it was quite funny, you couldn’t lie, “ I didn’t know Max had another sister, I’m sorry for assuming things.”

“ It’s pretty new for us too, we met a bit over two months ago and he invited me for the first time the friday we met to show me what was his life like.”

“ I hope my stupid comments didn’t ruin the experience too much for you.”

This time, you smiled at the driver, maybe he wasn’t as much of an asshole as you first thought. Shrugging, you replied, “ it’s fine, that didn’t ruin my weekends.”

“ That’s good to hear. Will you be there next time too?”

“ Unless Max suddenly doesn’t want me around anymore, I’ll be there- why?”

“ Well, I have a lot to make up for. I don’t want you to think I’m an asshole.”

You cocked your head on the side, clearly amused by Carlos’ words, “ I’m impatient to see how you’re planning on making up for it.”

“ You won’t be disappointed.”

“ We’ll see about that.”

———

Usually, you never joined Max on Thursday as it was only for press conferences and interviews- he didn’t want you to have to stay behind, waiting for him and get over-bored. Now that you were getting familiar with the Red Bull’s team and befriended some other people working for different teams, you didn’t mind having to stay behind and wait.

And that’s what you did today, you accompanied your brother and when it was his group’s turn at the press conference, you stayed behind, talking to a few people you knew and eventually found a nice and rather calm spot to wait.

As you were listening to your playlist while scrolling down on your social media feeds, you didn’t notice that Carlos was walking to you until he sat next to you, removing one of your earphone to get your attention, “ i didn’t know you’d be here today?”

Startled by the sudden apparition of the driver, you put your hand over your chest, “ oh my god, don’t ever scare me like that again!”

“ Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“ That’s okay but don’t do it again and yeah, I don’t usually come with Max on Thursday but I was in the mood to be the annoying sister today.”

Carlos laughed, handing you back your earphone, “ how long have you been sitting there?”

“ I don’t know, maybe half an hour- why?”

“ With this heat? Why don’t we go inside and grab a cold drink, you got to stay hydrated!”

Arching a brow quite amused at Carlos’ suggestion you replied, “ you know I can get a drink from the Red Bull’s facility, right?”

“ Yeah but ours, at Ferrari, are better!”

“ I’m pretty sure the drinks are the same, but I guess I have to check it out by myself now, uh?”

Carlos grinned from ear to ear at your answer, getting up, he offered his hand to help you, which you gladly took. You kept a pretty light conversation as you two headed to the Ferrari’s facility as you mostly talked about how he hoped the weekend would go for him and Charles.

You kept going until Carlos stopped you right before entering the building, confused you gave him a questioning glare, “ you can’t enter wearing a Red Bull cap!”

It was childish but you were nonetheless amused by Carlos’ words, you knew no one would say a word about you wearing the Red Bull cap Max offered you during the first racing weekend you attended, “ better? ”

Your friend remained silent for a couple of seconds until his eyes lit up as if he had gotten the brightest idea of the year. Before you could say or even realize anything, Carlos took his own cap and put it on your head, “ even better now!”

“ Are you trying to turn me into a Ferrari supporter?”

“ I wouldn’t dare!”

“ Yeah, because I’m not betraying my brother.”

“ Too bad, red suits you very well.”

You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed- you liked the color red and wearing it but you were too proud to say it to him. Instead, you cleared your throat, reminding Carlos why you were there, “ so, are we getting those drinks or not?”

“ Yeah, vamos.”

Following your friend inside the building belonging to his team, once you had acquired a drink you liked, you didn’t stay too long inside, only enough to cool down from the outside burning heat of the summer.

It was only mere seconds after you left Ferrari’s facility, still accompanied by Carlos, that your brother found you. The first thing he noticed was the unusual hat you were wearing, he feigned being hurt at the sigh, a hand clutching at his heart, “ i can’t believe I turn my back for an hour and you betray me like that.”

“ It’s not what it looks like Max, I swear.”

“ It’s okay, it’s okay- I knew it would eventually happen.”

You weren’t sure what your brother exactly meant by this, exchanging a look with Carlos, he simply shrugged, he was just as confused as you were, “ what?”

“ I meant you and Carlos? I mean come on, I knew from the beginning you would end together- enemies falling in love or whatever they call it.”

“ What? We- we’re not dating if that’s what you think!”

“ It’s cool if you guys want to keep it a secret, I won’t tell anybody.”

You rolled your eyes, not understanding how Max convinced himself that Carlos and you had been dating. You were about to tell Max to stop as there was nothing between Carlos and you, but your friend replied before you could, “ thanks bro, i was actually going to ask y/n where she wanted to go for our next date.”

“ Oh,” Max was just as speechless as you were, since when you had already went on a date with Carlos, “ my bad for interrupting then. I’ll let you guys be, i’ll be at the rbr’s garage but when you come back y/n, you’re forbidden from wearing any ferrari’s merch in our garage.”

You laughed a little, it didn’t even cross your mind to keep the cap on for this long and you surely didn’t want to make enemies for wearing a red hat, especially since you were still considered new around here.

By the next minute, Max was gone, leaving Carlos and you alone again. You felt a bit awkward as you asked him, “ why did you say that to Max?”

“ Because I meant it- I was really going to ask you if you wanted to go on a date with me, he seemed so convinced that we were already dating.”

“ Would you like that? For us to be together?”

“ Well yeah, I would. You know, I never hated you- I just hated that you were with Max, at least that what I believed. I thought I had no chance with you and I was a bit jealous.”

“ You should’ve just asked me straight away. Would’ve saved us some times and arguments.”

Carlos chuckled, agreeing with you, he added, “ you have no idea how much I regret being an asshole to you.”

“ It’s okay now that we sorted this out,” you smiled softly, glad that you had gotten to see this side of Carlos that you already liked so much, “ so, about that date?”

“ Yeah?”

“ When and where?”

He smiled ear to ear, realizing that you were in for a date with him, “ what about tonight? I’m pretty sure I spotted a restaurant near the hotel.”

“ Sounds great to me, I can’t wait for tonight.”

[sibillascribbles08]

Been cooking my own tmnt iteration for a while, dunno how much will live anywhere but my brain but I wanna do some refs, so here's the turts!

I've been calling it Teenage Mutant Jazz Turtles or tmjt for short

If you care to hear some more you can peak under the cut

(More refs coming??? eventually I'm still stuck on some designs)

As the name implies, tmjt has more inspiration drawn from musical elements than combat elements. With the turtles not only living in a big ol' tour bus but also attempting to become a competent band after finding their magical instruments. But the ones they discover aren't the only ones out there, and some belong to some pretty nasty characters. (All the villains are gonna have a theme based on a different genre of music!)

The turtles travel and live with their dad (Splinter) and adopted sister (Casey). Originally just trying to survive but that kind of all changes when they accidentally interrupt a plan from the foot clan and not only discover some magical instruments that can turn into weapons, but also an entire world of monsters and creatures when they thought they were the only ones.

Leo is the oldest sibling, but despite this she struggles to be responsible for her siblings after her gender realizations caused a massive crack in her confidence. She's constantly self conscious of how others are perceiving her, even her own family in spite of their boundless support. She's always loved music, thanks to her dad, and dreams of being a singer, but because of how her mouth is built that's also an uphill battle. Her duel katanas can shift into a cello which can put opponents into a trance like sleep. While her given name was Leonardo, she's not sure what she wants to change it to, and simply goes by Leo for the time being. While she doesn't like to show her mouth, her teeth and jaw are powerful enough to bite through a steel knife.

Donnie is the second oldest (by just four days!) and is the one who stepped up to be in charge while Leo figures things out. He doesn't entirely mind the responsibility, though the pressure gets to him sometimes. Especially when Raph decides to criticize his decisions. They're very analytical and logical, their main passion being for mathematics which extends into some of the sciences as well such as physics. They know enough engineering to maintain the tour bus and build a few helpful devices such as their goggles or the calculator in their glove. Donnie puts his passion for math into music, using it to map out patterns for tunes (though not all of them sound good in the end). Their four eyes also have an additional lens to see heat signatures (and their dark vision is incredible). Donnie's clarinet allows him to create visual illusions.

Raph is the second youngest (by four days, Donnie constantly reminds him) and despite his appearance is one of the more level headed members of the family. You kind of have to learn how when your body could release gases that could paralyze your family members. Raph vents his frustration by either releasing gas that Donnie can convert into fuel for the bus or by writing poetry. Not that he ever lets the others read it, but he does put that skill into writing song lyrics. While he keeps cool and collected he still loves a good brawl, and will happily spar with anyone (usually Casey). He just leaves a lot of the destruction to his younger sibling, unless someone in his fam gets hurt, then the gloves are off. Raph is fiercely protective and will square up if someone so much as looks at one of his siblings funny, especially Leo. His high emotions are often why he and Donnie argue. Raph's trumpet can cause phantom pains in the skull, though he rarely has to use it give it how potent his gases can be.

Mikey, the youngest, is a tiny terror and he not only knows this, he takes great pride in it. Mikey enjoys causing chaos for the sheer joy of it, and enjoys it the most when Raph will simply hurl him at opponents for him to latch onto. Over the years he's learned to climb very well with his four arms, going up trees and buildings with ease which can make him very hard to chase after. Despite his love for trouble, however, he can be just as sweet, though his desire to do good deeds for his love ones can be a bit misguided at times (no Mikey you can't just rob the ice cream stand stop). Unfortunately as long as it keeps hiding behind Raph when the consequences happen, it may take some time to grow up (not that it has any interest in doing so right now). Mikey's drums allow him to create intense vibrations in the ground, enough to topple some buildings.

[salembutnotthecat]

[ “He's gonna run himself into the ground if he keeps going on like this." | "He can't go to [work/class/any other obligation] when he's like this. I'm gonna call and let them know." | My stomach’s bothering me.” | “I don’t feel so hot.”] i know its a lot! feel free not to use all of them. But i would love to see one of your fics with these dialogues because i feel like they just go well together. i dont care if its male or female sickie! wherever the inspo hits!

decided on a female sickie instead because i miss my girl emi!

if you have any questions/comments/requests, send me an ask!

tw emeto, fever, overwork, underage (16) caretaker

Emiliene wiped the sweat from her brow, the heat of the kitchen intensifying with each passing hour. The clatter of pots and pans, the sizzle of food on the grill, and the aromatic blend of spices filled the air of the bustling Italian restaurant where she worked as a line cook. It was just another evening in the chaotic rhythm of her life.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. Almost time for her shift at the barista job to begin. Emiliene's mind raced with thoughts of the long night ahead—juggling orders, managing the kitchen, rushing to her next job—all while keeping an eye on her brother Camille.

Camille, a bright teenager with a passion for art and a knack for mischief, had been her responsibility since their parents passed away. Emiliene's heart swelled with love for her brother, but the weight of being his sole guardian was a constant presence in her mind.

As she plated another dish with practiced precision, Emiliene felt the fatigue settling in. Her body ached from hours of standing, her mind heavy with the worries of bills and responsibilities. But she pushed on, fueled by determination and love for Camille.

When her shift finally ended, Emiliene hurried to the barista job, exchanging her chef's apron for a barista's apron with swift efficiency. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted her, and she forced a smile as she greeted customers and crafted their orders with care.

Throughout the night, Emiliene's weariness grew, but she never let it show. She juggled tasks effortlessly, pouring her energy into each job with unwavering dedication. She couldn't afford to falter, not when Camille depended on her.

Finally, as the night waned into early morning, Emiliene returned home to her small apartment, where Camille was asleep, unaware of the lengths his sister went to provide for them.

As Emiliene collapsed onto her bed, the weight of her exhaustion finally catching up to her, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Despite the challenges, the fatigue, and the relentless pace of her life, she had never wavered in her commitment to her brother and her dreams.

She was going to be fine. She knew she would be fine. It was just a hard week. Or… maybe it had been a few weeks. She didn't know, she was exhausted.

The days blurred into nights, and Emiliene's exhaustion only deepened. The relentless pace of her three jobs took its toll, leaving her feeling drained and worn out. Her body protested with every movement, and even simple tasks felt like monumental challenges.

One evening, as Emiliene rushed from one job to another, her steps faltered, and a wave of dizziness washed over her. She leaned against a nearby wall, trying to catch her breath and steady herself. The fatigue was becoming overwhelming, and a sense of nausea crept into her stomach.

It was during this moment of weakness that one of Emiliene's coworkers and friends, Maria, approached Camille, who had stopped by the restaurant to grab dinner, per Emiliene's request. Rather, Emiliene herself placed and paid for the order. Food for Camille, since she wouldn't be home until later.

"Hey, Camille," Maria said, her voice filled with concern as she noticed Emiliene's absence while she grabbed the food, "Where's your sister?"

Camille glanced around anxiously, worry etched on his face. "She's still at work. She's been working so much lately, and I'm worried about her."

Maria nodded, "She's a hard worker, no doubt about that. But she's pushing herself too hard, Camille. She's gonna run herself into the ground if she keeps going on like this."

Camille's concern deepened, his thoughts mirroring Maria's words. He knew Emiliene was doing everything she could to provide for them, but seeing her struggle was heartbreaking.

"I'll talk to her," Camille said determinedly, his worry fueling his resolve to make sure his sister took care of herself too.

-

The evening shift at the Italian restaurant was in full swing, and Emiliene found herself working alongside Enzo, the charming and slightly aggravating line cook who never failed to make her smile. Despite her best efforts to hide her exhaustion, Emiliene couldn't shake the weariness that weighed heavily on her shoulders.

As the night progressed, Enzo couldn't help but notice Emiliene's faltering energy and the way her usually vibrant demeanor seemed dimmed. He watched her move through the kitchen with a determined but strained expression, her movements slower than usual.

"Hey, Emi," Enzo said, taking a moment to step closer to her as they prepared orders. "You look like you're about to collapse. You okay?"

“If I didn’t know any better I would say you’re worried about me,” Emiliene said sarcastically, “But that would imply you could think with your heart and not your dick.”

“I have a heart!” Enzo insisted.

“I didn’t say you didn’t,” Emiliene chuckled.

“Okay, but, seriously,” Enzo said, “Are you feeling okay?”

Emiliene forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Just a little tired, Enzo. Long day, you know?"

Enzo frowned, concern etched on his features. "You've been pushing yourself too hard lately. Maybe you should take a break, get some rest."

"I can't, Enzo," Emiliene replied, her voice tinged with frustration. "I have bills to pay, and Camille needs me. I can't afford to take a break."

Enzo's expression softened, understanding the weight of Emiliene's responsibilities. "I get it, Emi. But you can't keep running on empty like this. Let me help you, at least for tonight. I'll take you home after our shift."

“Seriously,” Emi sighed, “My stomach’s just acting up. I haven’t had a chance to breathe, let alone eat something.”

“Fine,” Enzo said, “Then take your lunch break and get something. We have fresh gnocchi soup.”

“Fine,” Emiliene shrugged, “That sounds good.”

As they made their way to the break area, Emiliene's steps felt heavier with each stride. The fatigue weighed down on her like a heavy cloak, and every movement was an effort. Enzo kept a supportive arm around her, silently urging her to take it easy.

For as much as they were at each other’s throats, he cared about her. And he knew that if he was feeling like shit, she’d do the same looking after him as he was to her. She would probably have more sarcastic one liners, and he would have some too. If only Emiliene didn’t look like she would collapse after taking a singular plate to the expediter.

Sitting down at a table, Emiliene tried to muster up an appetite. The aroma of the gnocchi soup filled the air, tempting her taste buds, but her stomach churned uneasily. It was her favorite. It always had been. Even before she started working here, even before she starting having her episodes, before everything.

But now, now Emiliene picked at her food, forcing herself to take a few spoonfuls, but each bite seemed to worsen her nausea.

"I don't think I can finish this," Emiliene admitted, pushing the bowl away. "My stomach's not having it."

Enzo's worry deepened as he watched Emiliene's condition deteriorate. "Maybe you should just relax for a bit. I'll cover for you."

Emiliene nodded weakly, grateful for Enzo's concern. "Thanks, Enzo. I hate to be a burden."

"You're not a burden, Emi," Enzo reassured her, his voice gentle. "You're just human. Let me take care of you."

As Emiliene closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, a sudden wave of nausea swept over her. She clutched her stomach, feeling the urge to vomit rising within her.

“Em..?” Enzo questioned.

"I'm not feeling so hot," Emiliene murmured, her voice strained.

Without hesitation, Enzo sprang into action, grabbing a nearby trash can and placing it in front of Emiliene just in time. She leaned over, retching as her stomach rebelled against the strain and exhaustion.

Enzo rubbed her back soothingly, his worry evident in his eyes. "Take it easy, Emi.”

Emi retched again. The waves were small, but every one was more painful than the last.

Emiliene was left gasping, spitting the taste from her mouth.

“You're not well. Let me take you home." Enzo said.

Emiliene nodded weakly, tears of frustration and fatigue welling up in her eyes. She was grateful for Enzo's support, knowing that she had pushed herself too far. She didn’t want to leave, but everything she knew about food safety told her she couldn’t stay. She could keep working, she didn’t mind how tired she was. But legally she had to. Unless all her training was a lie.

“Fine,” Emiliene said, “Just, just give me a second.”

-

As Enzo drove towards Emiliene's home, the quiet hum of the car and the rhythmic sound of the engine seemed to lull Emiliene deeper into slumber. She was completely knocked out, her body finally succumbing to the overwhelming fatigue that had plagued her for days.

When they arrived at Emiliene's small apartment, Enzo gently shook her shoulder to rouse her. "Hey, Emi, we're home."

Emiliene stirred slightly, blinking groggily as she slowly woke up. Enzo helped her out of the car, supporting her weight as they walked towards the front door. He knocked softly, waiting for Camille to open the door.

Emiliene was exhausted, and still half asleep. So much so she didnt even fight when Enzo opted to simply pick her up.

Camille appeared at the door, his eyes widening in concern when he saw Emiliene's condition. "Is she okay?"

Enzo nodded, his expression serious. "She's just exhausted. Can you open the door for me, Camille?"

Camille nodded quickly, fumbling with the keys to unlock the door. Enzo carried Emiliene inside, his footsteps quiet as he made his way to the living room. He gently laid her down on the couch, arranging a blanket patterned with sunflowers over her sleeping form with care.

He chuckled, “Emi loves sunflowers doesn’t she?”

Camille nodded, “She does. Very much. She says they make her happy.”

Enzo glanced around the apartment, noting the familiar touches of Emiliene's personality in the cozy space. He felt a pang of sadness at seeing her so worn out, realizing just how much she had been pushing herself to the limit.

"Take care of her, Camille," Enzo said softly, his eyes meeting Camille's with a mixture of concern and reassurance. "She needs rest."

Camille nodded, his expression serious as he watched over his sister. "I will, Enzo. Thank you for bringing her home."

Enzo gave a small smile, his worry easing slightly now that Emiliene was safely home. "Anytime, Camille. She really shouldn’t go to work like this tomorrow. I’ll call the places… her badges are hanging from her rearview.”

“I can get the car tomorrow,” Camille said.

“You want me to call the sch-“ Enzo started to ask. but he doesn’t even finish before Camille nodded.

-

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow into Emiliene's small apartment. She stirred on the couch, her eyes fluttering open as she slowly became aware of her surroundings. The events of the previous night came back to her in a haze, and she groaned softly, feeling the familiar nausea creeping back.

"Morning, Emi," Camille's voice came from the kitchen, filled with concern. "How are you feeling?"

Emiliene managed a weak smile as she sat up, the blanket slipping off her shoulders. "Not great, Cami. My stomach's still doing somersaults."

Camille appeared in the living room, a glass of water and some crackers in hand. He handed them to Emiliene, his expression worried. "Here, try to sip on some water and nibble on these crackers. It might help settle your stomach a bit."

Emiliene nodded gratefully, taking the water and crackers from Camille. She sipped on the water slowly, trying to calm the queasiness that churned in her stomach. However, as she attempted to eat a cracker, a sudden wave of nausea washed over her, and she had to rush to the bathroom.

Camille followed her, concern etched on his face. He held back her hair as she leaned over the toilet, retching as her body tried to expel whatever was causing her distress. Emiliene felt utterly miserable, tears welling up in her eyes from the combination of physical discomfort and exhaustion.

After a few minutes, Emiliene leaned back, wiping her mouth with a tissue. She looked up at Camille, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thanks, Cami. I hate that you have to see me like this."

Camille shook his head, his concern evident in his voice. "Don't worry about that, Emi. I just want you to feel better.

Emiliene hesitated, knowing that taking a day off meant losing valuable income. But the thought of continuing to push herself in her current state was unbearable. She nodded reluctantly, leaning against the bathroom wall tiredly.

"Yeah, maybe you're right, Cami," Emiliene admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just need some rest."

Camille nodded in agreement, his worry for Emiliene evident in his eyes. "Rest is exactly what you need, Emi. I'll take care of everything today, don't worry about a thing."

Emiliene managed a weak smile, grateful for her brother's understanding and support. "Thanks, Cami. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Camille helped Emiliene back to the couch, making sure she was comfortable before fetching a blanket and tucking it around her. He brought her a fresh glass of water and set it on the coffee table within reach.

"Just rest, Emi," Camille said gently, sitting beside her on the couch. "I'll make you some ginger tea to help settle your stomach. You'll feel better soon, I promise."

Emiliene closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the cushions. She could hear Camille moving around in the kitchen, the comforting sounds of him preparing the tea soothing her frayed nerves.

As Camille returned with the steaming mug of ginger tea, Emiliene took a grateful sip. The warmth spread through her body, easing some of the tension in her stomach. She felt a sense of relief knowing that she didn't have to struggle through the day alone.

"Thanks, Cami," Emiliene murmured, her eyes still closed. "You're the best brother."

Camille smiled warmly. "Anything for you, Emi. Just focus on getting better."

As the day passed, Camille took care of all the household chores and even prepared a simple soup for Emiliene's lunch. Emiliene drifted in and out of sleep, the exhaustion finally catching up with her as she allowed herself to rest without the weight of responsibilities on her shoulders.

By evening, Emiliene's stomach had settled, and she felt a bit stronger than earlier in the day.

“I do have good news,” Camille told her, braiding her hair back from her face, “I got a job. Downtown, at that thrift store Jackson’s aunt runs…”

“Oh? Really?” Emiliene asked. “That’s great.”

“Yeah… so maybe you wont have to work so much…” Camille told his sister, “And you won’t get sick so much.”

“Maybe,” Emiliene said, “Hopefully.”

The day was filled with a lot of sleeping. Emiliene hated every second of it. But, she also knew it was necessary.

"Feeling any better, Emi?" Camille asked, peeking into the living room where Emiliene was sitting up on the couch.

Emiliene nodded with a faint smile, hugging Camille from the side quickly before letting go. “Yeah, I think the rest helped. Thanks again, Cami."

Camille returned her smile. "Anytime, Emi. Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything."

[xthescarletbitch]

nsfw headcanons || camila "la espada" montero x reader

18+, minors do NOT interact

cw: afab!reader, switch!camila/reader

word count: 1000

author’s note: if you know me, you know that miss espada is on my mind 25/8 (i mean, she is my wife). these headcanons have been in the works for about two years, my friends, and are not even all of them (i’ll share more if needed). i also tried to give myself some more smut-writing experience, so enjoy the blurb at the end. <3

espada is a top-leaning switch, but she’s also dominant as fuck. it’s not very often that she lets you top her, but when she does, she’s a power bottom, telling you exactly what to do and how.

espada practically lives between your legs with the amount of time she spends there. she gets so much pleasure from eating you out for hours on end, delighting in your taste. she’ll also kiss you with tongue afterward, urging you to taste yourself.

if espada’s head is not between your thighs, her fingers might be. she loves those passionate makeout sessions where her fingers are inside your panties, playing with your pussy. she just adores swallowing those moans of yours.

espada also likes it when your hand is down her pants during said makeout sessions. it’s often that you just get each other off as you suck face.

espada finds it hot when she fucks you with her clothes on while you’re completely naked—it just ignites something in her. skin-to-skin is still had plenty, don’t you worry.

espada also finds it hot when you call her papi.

espada likes the quickies because she doesn’t get a lot of time to fuck you nice and slow. when she does get the freedom, however, she takes her time. she’ll leave you completely satisfied either way.

espada gets turned on big time from begging. sometimes she’ll steer you in a direction where she wants to hear you beg for your release, and upon your successfully doing so, she’s happy to make you cum.

espada is the queen of coming up to you at camp, whispering something so dirty in your ear, and then just casually walking away as if nothing happened. she’d be lying if she said she didn’t think it was cute when you got all hot and bothered, and the tension it builds just fuels her.

espada loves some ass. she likes to slap and grab yours whenever she can, even if there are people around. she also likes to see it jiggle during sex and, as such, quite enjoys taking you from behind.

espada fucking packs, which is another way she’ll tease you around camp (do you see the pattern?). she’ll want you to sit on her lap around the campfire so that you know just what she has in store for you later. you know it’s on when she unbuckles that belt to reveal her package (PLEASE).  

espada loves when you suck the strap (here is something i wrote about that). oftentimes, she won’t fuck you with it until you’ve sucked her off well enough. she just loves to see you on your knees for her. 

espada will grunt and cuss during sex. you’ll hardly hear a moan from her, but she certainly wants them from you.

espada will smoke during sex. she’ll light a cigarette or two as she fucks you, being careful not to let any ash fall on you. her favorite is when she can just manspread on the couch, you on top, riding her, as she smokes her stuff. she’ll occasionally offer you a puff or two, but you’re too blissed out to be able to concentrate on anything other than your pleasure.

espada has a spit kink. she finds it incredibly hot to spit in your mouth and watch you swallow it as she fucks you in any position. she’ll also spit on your pussy before she sticks her strap inside of you to lube you up a bit more. 

while espada does prefer to use the strap over most other methods, she is also a big fan of the classic scissoring. it drives her crazy to be able to rub her wet pussy all over yours. she’ll grab you a bit tight as she grinds to make sure you both reach your orgasm–together.

speaking of riding out your orgasms together, here’s a little snippet i wrote:

you gasp as camila thrusts her strap inside of you at a particular angle, ensuring that she hits your g-spot while inside. her grip on your wrists remains tight as they are held above your head. your neck is open for her to litter as many kisses as she pleases, which she does throughout fucking you. as you feel something in your stomach grow tighter, you see camila’s face twist into pleasure—she’s close, too. her pace quickens and her grip tightens as she takes you both closer to your peak. a gasp escapes her own mouth as one of her hands releases yours and immediately goes to your hip, grabbing it to angle herself differently. now, each thrust of hers is hitting that pleasurable spot inside of you, causing your head to be thrown back, your eyes closed, and your mouth wide open in ecstasy. you open your palms to signal for camila to hold your hand, which she promptly does. she looks down at you, admiring the sight below, which gives her all the more motivation to keep going. “mírame,” she begs between breaths, which are now becoming heavy as she maintains her tempo. when your open eyes meet hers once more, you notice how engulfed they are with lust. she looks entirely enamored at this moment, and you almost don’t want it to end. you feel yourself tighten around her strap, and she feels it, too. your breathing becomes jagged. grunts and moans fill the air, getting louder and louder each time her strap passes the threshold. with one final nudge, camila leans down to clash your lips together, allowing your sounds to escape into each other’s mouths as you reach your climax. you kiss passionately, breathing still heavy, as she slows her pace, still bringing the strap in and out of you, making sure that she takes you for all you have. when your breathing finally levels and your chests are no longer heaving, camila pulls out of you and releases her lips from yours. she pushes herself up slowly, once again admiring the view that is you on her way up. with one small smile, she leans back down once more to plant a kiss on your forehead. “te amo,” she says. 

[queenaryastark]

I just went to see The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes for a second time, and I really liked it a lot more than The Hunger Games movies. For me, the characters, acting, writing, and thematic music were all so much better. What's funny is that I wasn't even going to see it once, let alone twice, until I was pushed into going. And now I'm glad I was pushed because it was excellent.

The characters were so layered and complex. I'm not going to be a Snow apologizer (if those exist). What I like is how this movie humanized the character while not dithering on showing him becoming a villain. Tom Blyth's performance was solid. He conveyed the sympathetic, tragic, endearing, and sinister aspects of Snow's character very believably. He had me living alongside the character with each twist and turn even on the second viewing when I already knew what happened.

Rachel Zegler as Lucy Gray was just as compelling even though we got comparatively less of Lucy's backstory. I loved how she was depicted as strong, determined, and fierce without being a physical combatant. The emphasis on her charisma, cunning, and compassion alongside her refusal to let others walk all over her or take advantage of her made her such an engaging and unique character. Zegler's singing was phenomenal. She really brought life and passion into the new music and the Hanging Tree song.

Snow and Lucy's relationship was the central dynamic of the film, but his relationships with his family (who relied on him to fix their financial struggles), Dr. Gaul (his dark mentor), Sejanus (his friend), and Highbottom (the dean trying everything to prevent all of Snow's goals) were all complex and fascinating.

But back to Snow and Lucy. I loved their dynamic. The way they latched onto each other immediately felt authentic, not because it was romantic but because their attachment was likely fueled by their own desperation due to their mentor/tribute relationship. Lucy's success and survival were tied to Snow's ability to win a scholarship that would allow him to financially support his struggling family. This leads him to put time and effort into mentoring her while she sees him as a source of sustenance and care. I do think their feelings became genuine, but that type of complicated beginning continues through to the end since after the games, caring for her is no longer aligned with advancing his goals and supporting his family. During the rewatch, I particularly liked how Lucy wished they had met under different circumstances only for them to actually meet in the circumstances she described and after having a great time living as hillbillies together... it still ended badly.

Despite the bad ending to their romance -- or maybe because of it -- Snow and Lucy are the first romance in this series I've felt like shipping. And it isn't because I would want them to end differently. I loved exactly how their relationship went. It's particularly interesting that their exchange of trust vows was more significant to them than an exchange of ILYs.

This film really had me wishing for a sequel that likely won't ever happen. I'd just like to see Snow continue to get worse as Dr. Gaul continues to be his dark mentor, and they make the games more spectacularly worse.

[kaistrashbin]

Hi Kai, it's me again!

While I agree that Donna is No1 forever and always I'm also excited to see the others in the AU! Are they all professors or do they habe different roles?

- Valentines anon

Hello again Valentine! It's good to see you :D

Ah yes, our beloved Donnie <3 Always and forever our Queen

I'm honestly extremely excited to further develop this AU! Progress is slow-especially cause i'm mostly focusing on Donna rn and i've just started college-but I really wanna turn this into smth cool and make as much content as I can for it! I'd hope to some day make lil comics for it and at least have some sort of fic written for the AU. Though i'd be just as happy if I only ever get asks XD Anything that gets me to at least talk about it, doodle, and further develop ideas XDD The motivation and joy that come from knowing other people like the idea is great fuel (aside from my own enjoyment and obsession with it PFFT)

As for the others!!!- More info on them under the cut!!!(I wrote way more than intended LOL i'm figuring things out as i'm writing pfft-)

I see all of them as like board members for the school. Leading and managing it at the highest level right under Miranda who ofc is the headmistress(might come up with a different title, still in development). Let's get into a few quick details about the other Lords though! Do note that not much worldbuilding has gone on so types of magic and what is taught at the school is still in the works. Quite literally everything is still in VERY early development so expect changes

Alcina Dimitrescu

Definitely a professor! Of what..? Well uh....i'm still working on it! XD Perhaps of a music related magic? (Resident Lover shows Alcina as the art professor and while I think it's a great choice for her, I don't want to just hop onto the same idea.) I don't really see much about Alcina's relationship with music so perhaps I can do something for it through this AU :) Either that or a "dark arts" type thing? Necromancy and shadow related things? I'll be honest i'm slightly leaning towards darker arts...especially for plot reasons...

A vampire- ofc she is PFFT, the Dimi Daughters are also vampires(whether they're her biological children or were willingly converted is still in development)

She's every teacher that complains about other teacher's methods and classrooms

Karl Heisenberg

In charge of school security! He's technically supposed to be teaching students about combat and taking in certain students for a guard internships but he has an assistant who does the actual teaching for him LOL He's just there to occasionally be the face and the muscle of the program XD Though he does do some actual teaching for that program, he's more about demonstrating and correcting students he observes(he also just mostly is interested in the security interns)

Now because his assistant handles most things related to the combat courses/guard internships he actually teaches a second class with a different assistant. It's metal/machine based and as it's more a deep passion of his he actually takes it more seriously and prefers to do more of the teaching himself. All his assistants and deputies just make it more manageable for him to be taking care of multiple things like this. He actually spends the most time and effort on this class.

Is a Lycan! They can't turn into wolves or convert others though (a good portion of the school's security is actually lycans)

His magic is also a work in progress, though in this AU in general I want to have some who mostly just focus on mastering one form of magic and those who are experienced in multiple. Obviously the more types you focus on (that aren't considered more basic/general stuff ex. lighting a candle with a snap, animating an object to do a simple task, ect.) the less you master each. I would like him to possible specialize in more than one but we'll see how things go!

Salvatore Moreau

I actually imagine he'd be a professor of healing related magic or a beastmaster, and also supervising a program about experimental magic

Handsome fish man. You know classyfruit's gorgeous genderbent Moreau? Yeah, but handsome fish man. A triton but more fish-like

Wow this was short and he needs more love

Extra love for handsome fish boi Moreau

[fandom-nursery]

Mal agere headcanons

Regresses from around age 4-7

Has a bad habit of pushing herself to stay big until she breaks down and regresses involuntarily 

On the Isle regressing would mean showing weakness and she could not afford to be seen as weak by anyone so she put a lot of effort into controlling her regression 

Once she was in Auradon she struggled to let her guard down and it took a lot for her to allow herself to regress when she needs it 

Her regression is something she is pretty insecure about. Her mother would hate her if she knew she was doing this and she struggles a lot to not feel like a failure for giving in to her regression. She knows things are different now and she knows her mother is gone and can never hurt her but that particular wound is going to take a long time to heal 

Incredibly energetic. Evie once joked that she might actually be more dexterous and coordinated while little than she is when big after chasing Mal around the room for almost an hour trying to get her to put on shoes 

She is a bit of a terror while little. She carries herself with the same confidence as big Mal and is extremely stubborn and opinionated. On the rare occasions where she is still and quiet it’s a very bad sign because it either means she is planning something or something has caused her to become very very afraid or upset 

Mal has a very hard time sleeping when little. Bedtime usually takes at least and hour or two of comfort, bargaining, and tantrums 

Because of how hard putting her to bed is, the VK’s have completely given up on trying to get her to nap. There were many attempts fueled by desperation and fleeting hope but none were successful

Mal has a hard time staying still and will squirm to be put down if she’s picked up. The exception is when Jay picks her up to spin her around or hang her upside down or toss her onto the bed while they are playing 

She loves bathtime so much but she does need a lot of supervision during it because if she isn’t watched constantly she will 100% end up flooding the dorm 

Mal is very active while little and loves to run around. She loves to roughhouse with Jay. It took a while for them both to learn the differences between play fighting and real fighting and even now the two of them have to be very careful not to hurt one another by accident

She also likes to play games where she hides and tries to sneak up on carlos

Mal is very creative and loves to do art projects! She makes a huge mess no matter which art supplies she is using but she is so excited and happy while doing them that the other VK’s can’t bring themselves to be too upset with her 

She loves fruit. Strawberries are her favorite but she also loves blueberries, oranges, watermelon, mango, blackberries, passion fruit and pomegranate. Not apples though. She doesn't trust them 

Messy eater most of the time unless Evie is the one watching her. She likes to make people proud of her and Evie gives her lots of praise when she has good table manners 

Ben won her one of those cheesy giant stuffed bears at a carnival once and now whenever little Mal gets sad or upset its the first object she turns to for comfort

Evie made Mal several sets of play clothes for when she’s regressed but its really 50/50 of weather or not she will wear them 

It was hard for her to tell the others about her regression and they actually didn’t know about it at all until just about a week after the coronation. It took even longer for her to tell Ben 

Ben and the other VK’s are her caregivers

Evie usually has to talk Mal down from being embarrassed after she’s back in her big headspace 

While she is little Ben calls her princess, and the VK’s call her little fairy. They have also entered a friendly competition where they try to call Mal a word for purple and a descriptor with the same first letter. Some highlights have been violet vagabond, Lavender lunatic, and hyperactive heliotrope 

Mal has discovered that when she is little she needs boundaries. However because of the other VKs experience with punishments back on the isle none of them are really willing to provide discipline. Because of this it falls to Ben to enforce rules and place her in time out if need be. He is very good at staying calm and being fair and it’s been good for Mal to see that boundaries can be places that don’t hurt or make her feel awful about herself

[jay-jp-art]

hey hey, do you mind sharing your akiyama headcanons? just saw ur tags talking abt how theyre dark and im very interested!!!! your fem ryuaki fuels me in ways i cannot describe and i havent even played dead souls FHKGJG and your tanimuras have my whole entire heart!!!

Oh wow first of all THANK YOU for the ask!! It's been only couple days since I've discovered I've had them disabled all this time so I'm very happy I noticed it before you found my blog (,:

I've already complained a bit on twt that when I've started to write down ryuaki headcanons, it prompted me to make a 35+ pages google doc with meta on both of them 😅 It pushed me to write more fun drafts tho, so all is well, but it won't fit in this post for sure ahbfght

But ofc, I will share a little about Shun specifically. (TW for implied SA)

Akiyama... I have complicated feelings about him, because on the one hand, he got betrayed by his closest people, lost all the standing in society and lived as a homeless person for a long time, and that's a big trauma to have. But on the other... He's got back up by a miracle, and now he's trying to recreate the miracle for others. He assumes the role of a judge for other people while himself being too young, too flawed, having black and white morals.

(In Y4 I downright despised Akiyama when he refused a loan to an abused woman on the basis that she didn't want to apply for sex work, but in the same substory gave some cringefail guy 4 chances to complete the test just because it was amusing.)

But I've just completed Y5, and it gave me lots of food for thought.

First of all, from what I see, Shun here was written (rewritten?) as a more sympathetic character. For example, now when it's implied that he's gonna make some woman "use her body" for the loan, it means he's sending her to work on the construction site. Well, alright. I'll take the bad taste joke over previous cases.

There's also an important quest when Akiyama meets his former boss, who not only initially fired him on false accusations, which started his downfall, but also married his ex-fiancée. And Akiyama finally admits that at first, he wanted to use his position as a loan shark to be selfish and to get revenge, but got disgusted with himself after seeing some humanity and principles in the former boss.

So, here finally comes self-awareness about his actions. Interesting tidbit.

Another big part of the character building we see now: when he is alone in Osaka, without Hana around, he's a complete mess. His new office is dirty, he barely eats some instant ramen and clearly just uses the place to escape Tokyo and the responsibilities he created himself. If in Y4 we saw him within his element, managing Elise and doing loan business (with a messy table because he's just soooo quirky and lazyyy \s), then in Y5 we get to see a bit of what's inside his head. And it's not pretty.

He's clearly distancing himself - from Hana and his new yakuza friends, because they have their own lives to care about. (Tanimura too mayhaps, but this is a separate friendship that I also like to talk about a lot)

Aaand he escapes to his ugly nook to have his ugly depressive thoughts. Can't let them witness it, can he? They'd lose all the respect for him.

At the same time, he throws himself into helping Haruka with passion, because that's the thing he actually cares about, for the first time in a couple years. (He also provides her with some much-needed parenting about the importance of being selfish, because, being raised by Kiryu, she's entirely too self-sacrificing.)

And suddenly - he's lively and energetic again, he's bouncing off other characters, he risks his life for what he deems right, he's helpful, organizing, charming. He's everywhere.

(But he's also afraid to acknowledge that he's got too close to people again. So he's ready to literally die for them and Haruka's dream, but avoids calling them friends, settling for "acquaintances")

Not much needed to imagine that, after everything settles down, he falls apart again. Because in his head he's never really needed or too important for the people around. They carry on with their life and plans. Such as Eri, Arai, Yasuko. Even Hana got fed up and left at some point, and has been keeping him at an arm's length since. (Good for her, that was unhealthy)

He's not only not that interesting, his trauma is "ugly" (by his self-admission). It's not heroic and it's very mundane. There's no clear villains to blame, like with Majima's torture in Y0.

It's just - waking up is hard. Akiyama can't see the point in much of what he's doing anymore. Money is just paper for him now, they might have bought him the freedom of choice, but somehow it didn't help. Even with all the financial help to struggling people he can't buy healing for himself. Most alive he felt actually was when he lost the money briefly in Y4 - it made him work to get them back again.

Now it gets a bit tricky, hence the TW.

I think that a lot of things about him actually make sense, if while living on the streets, he had it bad enough to the point of selling himself for food. Like, I don't want to make it into torture porn or downplay the traumatic experience of homelessness overall, but something for sure ruined him and his self-perception. That's why he's bouncing between playing a self-righteous entity and hating himself.

Aside from his crippling depression from all this being shunned deep inside and not addressed, there's the attitude about sex work I've mentioned he has in Y4. He is distancing himself from the situation yet again. A little bit of a trick to calm his mind: "If I treat it like every other job, it won't feel as dehumanizing applied to myself". And also: "Well, I was not above doing that! I was not too proud to do it! Why should anyone else be?"

Now, of course he doesn't want to subject his former boss (and, by extension, Eri) to the same hardships. Even though he is, actually, a bit of a cruel person.

So here's Akiyama in Y4-5. Not super pretty and kind of greasy, but nevertheless charming, gallant and crazy smart. Fighting and dancing and singing and networking equally well. VERY annoying, because he considers himself an expert in all things he read about even once (I also hc him eidetic memory, which makes it worse). And with every year getting more secluded and miserable.

That being said, fem ryuaki has slightly different tone even in all-fem AU because of gender expectations. Akiyama's upbringing for example.

I hc his parents seeing him as this very "proper" son, encouraging his risk-taking neurodivergent activity ONLY when it helped to build onto that image. They happily bragged about their son - with prestigious business degree, good banking job and pretty fiancée. But ofc, when it's all came crashing down, they didn't want to hear about him anymore. Nowadays they acknowledge his existance with some disdain, because they care about reputation more then about him or his wealth. And he has some "disgusting jobs, no respectable friends and no wife".

(It's all kinda complicated from both sides, mb I'll get deeper into it in fanfic that I'm writing)

(And forgive me for saying this, but fem Akiyama is more interesting for me to write in this narrative, because she needed to balance fitting "proper little quiet Japanese woman" with her loud banking career, and while she was always openly feminine, she was never proper or quiet "enough". And now she's "not enough" among actual living legends.)

Well, that's all I have to say for now!

I'm always open for further questions and discussions 😊

[dadsbongos]

why did you ask me out? (3)

1 / 2 / chapter 3 - heartbroken but alive / 4 / 5

5.4K words

warnings - quick c-tier slur, jason carver is homophobic (go figure) and shoves you into a desk, eddie outs you to your friends in a convoluted and roundabout way (everything ends fine), speedrun enemies to friends to lovers trope

summary - You and Chrissy are long-lost best friends that join sides to pull one over on the girls hoping to make you prom queen as a bet. Things don't always go to plan - sometimes you realize you're in love and sometimes the girls shoot back at you.

~~

1986. Senior Year.

It felt pathetic to still be in love with her then. Hell, it feels pathetic now.

Chrissy isn’t one to lie, you know that after this she won’t let you go like she did over the summer of ‘82, but you’re sort of dreading that. Having to pretend you’re okay hearing about Jason Carver and his stupid hair and his stupid lips and his stupid body. 

You never understood how Chrissy and Jason started dating. Sure, she left and she stood by but she was anything except evil. Jason Carver, however, was evil.

“How’re you and Jason?”

“We’re not talking.”

You hate to smile, but she doesn’t seem too upset so you hope they secretly break up. Not because you’re jealous (a little bit because you’re jealous) but because he’s so terrible and she’s so good, you doubt that anything he could ever do would be worthy of her affection. Not that you think you’re much better.

“What happened?” Chrissy swipes a shade of red over your palm and quickly pairs it with a pink, then turns to her own forearm to do the same.

“We got into a fight,” she frowns, “I feel bad that I don’t…” you wonder why she bothered bringing you if she was just going to test the shades on her skin anyway, “I don’t really care.”

It’s whispered. Shaky. Like she’s petrified at the idea of being overheard.

“I mean, maybe it’s just… that time,” you mutter, hoping you can sound dismal enough to be convincing, “Jason’s an asshole, in case you haven’t noticed.”

She most certainly did. Chrissy picks out the palette from the shelf and moves to the lipstick. Her gentle fingers brush over a few until she crosses a vermillion shade and holds it up to your face. She squeezes one eye shut before nodding to herself and shoving the lipstick into your hand, then taking up a watermelon pink for herself.

You think you might’ve said the wrong thing, but you can’t bring yourself to regret it. Chrissy’s making a mistake with Jason and if it really hurts her to hear you say that, you’ll apologize - but you won’t be taking it back. He screams in the face of common decency and still gets to call himself the golden boy. He gets to claim that the tragedies of Hawkins fuel the basketball team and he gets to be selfish and he gets to call innocent kids with innocent passions freaks.

He’s worse than an asshole. You think he’s a monster.

She tells the girls that you two are done shopping and sits by a bench at the front of the store while they finish up. You join her and find it too awkward to look at her pensive face. Just before you can mutter a half-sincere apology, though, she’s speaking again.

“You wanna know what happened?” Chrissy’s voice is so quiet, you’re almost worried you imagined her speaking.

“You two fought,” you’re just as quiet, leaning closer so that the two of you can feel alone, “You just- “

“No, during the fight. What it was about,” she turns to face you and you have to force yourself to lean back, lest the other patrons think you want to kiss her (you do, but that’s not for them to know), “I haven’t told anyone and I don’t think he’s told anyone either.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“I want to,” her foot bounces and you remember a time when it was excusable for you to place a hand on her knee in public. Now you’re a little too old to explain it on not seeing the issue, “He found out I was smoking weed, and he almost punched a hole through my wall.”

“Jesus, Chris,” you don’t mean to gasp, but you couldn’t stop it before it flew from your mouth, “That’s bad. Like, insane bad.”

“I know. I wanna break up with him so bad,” she’s even quieter than before. Like it’s forbidden she have such a desire. Like she’ll be locked away if she’s heard.

“So, just do it,” you don’t understand the world she’s in, but you know enough to know that people like Chrissy more than they like Jason, “Your status as queen won’t change or anything.”

“I don’t wanna be alone, and if we break up then he’ll spread rumors or make it sound like I’m crazy,” she sucks in a sharp breath, “I can’t be alone like that.”

“You won’t be,” for the first time tonight, Chrissy’s shocked by how earnest you sound. You take one of her hands in yours, and she finally has the courage to lock eyes with you, “You won’t be alone. I’ll be there. The Hellfire guys will love you, too,” you turn away to cough awkwardly, “I- I know we’re not the cheer squad or the sports teams or anything, but we’re good people. I like to think so, at least.”

“No, I know you all are,” she presses her lips, “My mom would lose her shit, though.”

“Your monthly swear makes its appearance,” when she glares at you weakly, you look down, “Sorry,” she chuckles in good humor and you feel the tension leak from your muscles, “Fuck your mom, though. Not literally, but just, like, fuck her. You know? She’s not looking out for you.”

Not like I did.

You choose not to say that on account of how douchey it sounds.

“At the expense of sounding naive, I’ll admit that for the longest time I had no clue why my mom hated you,” Chrissy lets out a hollow laugh, “I just did what she said so it’d feel like she actually liked me.”

Your hand moves from hers to her shoulder, you’re careful - gentle, even - as you press your thumb into her skin.

“I don’t really care that much anymore,” she laughs again but it feels more lively, “I just want you.”

“That’s good, it’d be awkward if this were part of the bet, too.”

“Not so loud or they’ll know you know,” she giggles now, full and hearty and alive, leaning into your side, “I like this.”

“Me too.”

Chrissy suddenly bounds up from the bench and to the cashier. A row of nail polish was on display and she’s carefully examining it for just the right color (Chrissy never had enough nail polish despite having her bin and desk cluttered with the bottles, not that you were really complaining). You join her at the register as the cheerleaders flock out from the aisles and towards Chrissy.

She holds up the nail polish once it’s been scanned, “Black! I didn’t have any and I figured you’d wanna have some color for tonight.”

“What? You don’t like,” you hold up your hands, “chipped to shit, ugly ass moss green?”

“Not particularly,” she teases, nudging your hip with hers. You take the bag of makeup and nail polish from her hand and begin out the store with the other girls.

1982. Eighth Grade.

“Thanks again,” you murmur to Chrissy, “I know this isn’t your scene.”

“What? I’m happy to come,” she seems uncomfortable in the cramped bedroom of your family’s trailer, but says nothing.

The boys shuffle about in the room as you finish tuning your bass. Well, almost all the boys. Gareth was sitting out in what was technically your family’s backyard with his drum set. You bounced up from your bed and over to the open window he sat outside.

He had his walkman on, the tape for Corroded Coffin’s song of choice already loaded and ready. 

“Thanks again!” you cheer and he nods, lips pressed thinly and you can feel how embarrassed he is like this. You move into position with the rest of the boys and shoot Chrissy a nervous smile. She gives one back.

“Sorry if you hate it,” you look down at your hands. Callused and rough and sometimes you wondered if Chrissy would hold them anyway.

“Don’t be a bunny,” she waves off. She insists on the phrase even though it’s so dated by now. Cute, she calls it. 

Eddie signals off to Gareth and the two quickly find their rhythm. You don’t look back up at Chrissy, knowing full well that if you do then you’ll lose your nerve.

The middle school talent show was soon and Chrissy was more than willing to sit in and listen to what Corroded Coffin had lined up.

Chrissy isn’t much surprised you chose a KISS song, though she’ll admit that the choice of I Was Made For Lovin’ You did shock her. Although, according to you it was either this or Paranoid by Black Sabbath and she took your word that Paranoid was too long.

She doesn’t know that you chose this song for her and she doesn’t know that your hands shake because you’re in love with her and she doesn’t know how badly you sometimes wish you were a boy so that it’d be easier for you to love her. But that’s okay, the favor is returned eventually.

Because what you don’t know is that soon after this, she would slowly stop being your best friend. And after that, she’ll slowly stop being your friend altogether.

1982. Freshman Year.

The summer months have you scorching for a reason besides the heat. You hate to admit it, but you’re mad. Mad enough that when the boys are setting up their instruments, they can all feel the ick that radiates off you in thick rolls.

“Are you sure you’re gonna keep your cool?” Eddie narrows his eyes at you, as if he’d see through your lies if he stared hard enough, “This is our first gig and if you fuck up ‘cuz you’re all heartbroken your cheerleader best friend is gone, we’ll kill you. Collectively.”

“If this goes wrong it’s ‘cuz you’re slumming it with a bunch of 14-year-olds, not ‘cuz I’m heartbroken,” you grumble, making a point of staring at the shiny finish of your bass rather than looking at your lead, “Because I’m not, by the way.”

“So are,” Jeff instantly denies, “I saw you staring at her during lunch. And algebra.”

You totally were and you totally are.

“So what?”

“So, you’re upset,” Gareth jabs one of his drumsticks between your shoulder blades and you whip around to glare at him, “It’s fine, just own up to it.”

“I’m not even upset, it’s fine,” you look up as the nurses herd in the attendees of Corroded Coffin’s first ever gig, “How we even got booked at a nursing home is what you guys should be focusing on.”

Eddie shrugs, shooting you a wink, “I know a guy.”

The elderly didn’t appreciate Corroded Coffin’s rendition of War Pigs by Black Sabbath quite as much as you’d hoped they did.

1986. Senior Year.

The girls have disbanded and now you’re up in Chrissy’s bedroom as if she never left. Here you are, watching through her vanity mirror as she carefully, carefully, applies the red eyeshadow to her outerlid. Her lips are pursed and sometimes she bites her tongue when she’s focusing, it brings you back to every time you wanted to kiss her in this very bedroom. Right now being no exception.

You can’t help but roll over onto your stomach, just to stop staring at an image more beautiful than any painting in the Louvre. Quickly, you decide to busy yourself with her cassette player, rummaging through her tapes and shaking your head - hoping above all hope that she notices you.

“What’re you doing over there?” she hums, moving onto the pink shadow now.

“Searching for something good.”

Despite knowing exactly what you’re about to say, Chrissy opens the door for your jab anyway, “Find anything?”

Madonna - Like a Virgin Michael Jackson - Billie Jean Fleetwood Mac - Farmer’s Daughter ABBA - Angeleyes Madonna - Borderline Madonna - Burning UpMadonna - Crazy For You ABBA - Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!

Jesus Christ, maybe you’re as pretentious as Eddie.

“Nope,” your fingers continue to flick through tapes until you come to the end of the line, “Remind me to make you a new mixtape.”

“What? You think your music taste is better than mine?”

“Yup,” you reply without hesitation.

“Wow,” she turns now, looking at you as you lay back in her bed. Cat that ate the canary grin and crossed legs and fidgeting fingers, “Such a snob.”

“‘m not a sob,” you protest even though you’re partially convinced it’s true, “Just want my girl to have good music.”

For some odd reason, your heart doesn��t seize when you let the pet name slip. Not when Chrissy’s smiling as she turns back to the mirror and picks up the lipstick she got herself.

“Your girl, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, then come here and let your girl put on your lipstick, ‘kay?”

“‘kay.”

You slide off Chrissy’s bed and kneel down in front of her, your hands settle on her knees and she uncaps the dark red lipstick.

She holds up her hand to your chin, “Can I…?”

Without thinking, you nod, eyes falling closed, “Whatever you need.”

Carefully, her hand takes to your chin, and tilts your head upwards. The press of lipstick is gentle as she swipes it across the skin. It almost feels like in another life this could lead to something more. Smudged pink and red lipstick and frisky hands and Jason Carver never getting the privilege of so much as seeing Chrissy Cunningham ever again. 

But this isn’t that life and Jason will be going to prom, most assuredly. So you sit still until she’s done and when she is, you look in the mirror. Blinking away the bleariness, you grin and watch how the deep red accentuates your lips.

“If I was a guy, I’d kiss you,” Chrissy nods to herself. More so to say you look pretty than an actual desire, you’re sure.

“If I was a guy, I’d kiss you,” you repeat.

Chrissy hopes you mean it the same way she does, but she isn’t sure that you mean it genuinely - so she lets it slide as a compliment rather than voiced desire.

“Now, nails,” she grabs the black polish and shakes it while you lay your hands flat over her thighs. Repressing a shiver (a good shiver, she’s flustered to admit), Chrissy unscrews the cap and picks up one of your hands, “This way, it can dry and we’ll have time to put on the dress.”

1984. Sophomore Year.

You went on a secret date one time. With a girl. With Vivian Coord - one year your senior and captain of the tennis team. 

You two shared the same chemistry class and she was pretty and nice and you liked talking to each other. You found out she liked girls by accidentally finding old doodles of her and another girl in her notebook and she found out you liked girls when you told her in a split second attempt to calm her down.

This date was nice. You two went skating and got the pleasure of disguising the hand holding as her guiding you through the rink. But there was something missing, and you really felt bad.

“I don’t wanna lead you on,” you turn to her before she can let you out of her car, “I’m just…” one hand flies up in dramatics, “not over my ex.”

“Yeah,” she nods slowly, one hand bumping against the steering wheel, her lips press and she shrugs, “I’m not either.”

“Is she the one you drew, creeper?” you tease.

“Shut it,” Vivian jokingly pops you in the arm.

“She is,” you open the door and wave, “Good luck with that.”

“Good luck with yours.”

Vivian was funny and lighthearted and she could take it just as much as she dished it - you have no idea why your heart wasn’t in the rink with her tonight.

You’re lying when you think that.

Your arms are wrapped around yourself tightly in the chill that blows through Hawkins. You watch your feet hit the dirt road leading into Forest Hills and you can’t help but wonder.

Why would you lie in the car? Vivian barely knew you, why did it matter what she thought of you now?

Well, it was easier than admitting you were still in love with a girl you had no chance with. 

Vivian could swallow the ex response, but if you even tried spooning the Chrissy Cunningham schlop to her, she’d slap it out of your hand. 

Chrissy is so high above you now that sometimes it’s crazy to remember there was ever a time you two would practice kissing together. There’s a Chrissy-sized hole in your head when you think about your loved ones and there’s a Chrissy-sized hole that blares through your heart when you see her and Jason kiss in the halls.

A few months later, Vivian and the junior would get closer and when you’d spot them linking pinkies under the table at lunch, you knew what that meant. You’re happy for them, you are - you’d just rather not be alone.

You don’t know it as a sophomore, but even years later - you still go on to daydream about Chrissy Cunningham.

1986. Senior Year.

You know why you’re here. To fuck with Anne Mark and Lily Pham. You know that just as well as you know how sad it is to still be in love with the cheer captain dating the star basketball player.

But as Chrissy is applying the black polish to your nails, it feels different. Nobody is here to impress or trick and this is purely for you two. This isn’t about the bet or fucking over either girl doomed to peak in high school. This is about you and Chrissy and the fact nobody else is home. 

And the fact that Jason Carver is probably on his way out as a taken man.

She gently blows against the polish as if it’ll actually dry that much faster before switching to your next hand, “Do you want a top coat?”

“No, I like when it peels,” when she gives you a bewildered stare, you restrain a shrug for the sake of her work, “I think it makes me look cool.”

“You look cool all the time,” she grins.

Her hair is in pigtails that you helped do. It gently cascades down and sometimes it falls into your face, but you don’t mind. You’d spend forever with your face pressed into the gentle waves and loose curls of her honey blond hair if you could.

But you don’t admit that, instead you say something completely lame, “I forgot how to dance.”

“You don’t just forget how to dance.”

“Well, I did.”

“Don’t be a bunny.”

“That phrase expired like six years ago.”

“Well, I like it.”

“You do you, Chris.”

Keep on truckin’, she mouths and you roll your eyes, but there’s such an undeniable smile swiped over your red-stained lips that she doesn’t even care.

“No, but really, I don’t know how to dance.”

“Nobody knows how to dance,” she grins, “They just follow everyone else’s lead and think they look cool. But you know what?” hm, you hum, “I think the coolest people are actually the ones that don’t follow the others, and do what they want - they know how to dance.”

“What about the people who don’t dance at all?”

“They’re waiting for somebody to show them it’s okay to.”

You watched her carefully. Her soft eyes under this pink light. She sits so pretty and looks so kissable. You clear your throat, “Who do you think I’m waiting for?”

Chrissy looks away from her work on your nails, just for a moment, “To show you?”

“Yeah.”

It’s so ballsy to say me, but something about the way you’re looking at her makes her feel like that’s the exact answer you’re waiting for. If she’s wrong you might run away like she did. But if she’s right and she doesn’t say it, nothing will happen. That should be good, right?

Nothing changes if nothing happens and everyone’s happy.

So why does the idea make her want to roll into an early grave?

She’s tired of doing nothing, so she relents.

“Me.”

“Really?” if your tone weren’t so clearly teasing, she might’ve been embarrassed.

But there’s light in your eyes. She did well. So she doubles down and nods, “Yeah.”

“You’ll have to stick with me, then,” you watch her lips curl into an ‘o’ shape as she blows on your other hand’s coat of polish, “Show me how to dance.”

“I can’t show you, but I can encourage you,” she sets your hand down and you back away for her to stand, “like in fifth grade, during the winter dance.”

“You remember that?” 

“How could I forget?”

I fell in love with you that night, you both almost say.

…

Chrissy’s heels have advanced since elementary school. You’re fitted in a pair of black pumps she says are reserved for church and court and she’s got on kitten heels. 

“I always have trouble with the straps,” she pouted while pulling them on.

Looking back on it, you think it was just a ploy for her to not have to do anything. You don’t regret it, though.

You click one heel into place. Then the next.

Your fingers linger at Chrissy’s calf as you look up at her. She smiles down at you and leans forward, you don’t move.

“Thanks again for coming,” she whispers, so close you can feel her breath gently sweep across your lips.

“Sounded fun,” you lean ever closer, “I missed you a lot.”

“I missed you a lot, too.”

And just like when you guys were eleven, back in sixth grade in 1979, the last night of 1979, you both lean in. 

You’re both more experienced now, though. Heads tilted and lips soft, her hands cup your cheeks and yours settle on the tops of her thighs. Your thumbs press into the soft skin and she hums sweetly. She parts your lips with the press of hers and gasps when your hands just dare to climb a little higher.

Then, she’s pulling away, “We still have somewhere to be.”

You pull away, too and your hands settle onto your own thighs, “Probably best you fix our makeup.”

Chrissy’s head turns to the mirror and her eyes widen at the sight.

One minute you’re both laughing at the specks of red riddled into Chrissy’s pink lipstick and the pink faintly sprinkled into your red. The next minute? The next minute, Jason Carver is bursting through the window she forgot to shut and is calling you a carpet-munching freak.

All boyfriends have their way of apologizing, you suppose.

“What is she doing here?!” he shouts and Chrissy jumps away like you’ve been set ablaze.

You can only stare up at him in terror. The man who’s given Dustin and Mike twisted ankles. The man who’s given Jeff a black eye. The man who’s given Gareth two split lips over one summer. The man who chased Grant down the road with his lackeys. The man who dumps cola over you whenever he sees you’ve made an effort to look nice. The man Eddie swears is the real Satanist, despite all his prayers to God. He stands before you with an iron fist.

“She has no right to be here, she’s against God, Chris,” Jason storms over to you and winds a hand behind your neck, squeezing like you’re a kitten and he’s the mother. He pulls back until you’re sitting straight on your knees, “What the fuck is she doing in your room?!”

“We’re just hanging out, Jason,” she tries to reason, “Let her go!” now she’s firmer, heels harsh on the carpet as she stomps forward and pushes her boyfriend, “Let her go, Jason Carver!”

“Let her go? Let her go?” he laughs in her face and gives another harsh squeeze to your neck, “You’re siding with this- this freak?!”

“Yes, I am!” she shouts, “And we’re so over- so just let her go or I- “ her eyes dart down to you nervously and you know whatever threat comes next is a lie, “I’ll call the cops!”

“For what? Treating a freak the way she deserves?” Jason grins like a hyena before dying prey, shaking his head, “I’ll let her go, Chris.”

She doesn’t relax, though. If anything, she’s more tense than before.

Jason doesn’t let you go, more like he tosses you. The second his elbow yanks back you know you’re in trouble, his fingers slip from your neck and your head bangs into the side of Chrissy’s vanity.

A throb forms at your forehead as she screams and Jason pushes her back when she goes to lift you.

From your angle on the floor, you can faintly see up the Sixteen Candles poster Chrissy hung and you can see the hole in the wall that Jason did end up punching.

1985. Junior Year.

The five of you do this every year now. Well, maybe not this specifically - the beer part - but the five of you - Corroded Coffin, Hellfire, freaks, etc. - gather around Eddie’s trailer at the end of every single school year to shoot the shit and drink. This year the drink is beer, now that Eddie is lax enough to let you all have alcohol on his property. It’s a step up from whatever soda he has stocked in the fridge.

You all like to look back on good times and pretend that Eddie should still be in high school. This coming year, especially, since you’ll all be seniors when Eddie should technically be a sophomore in college.

Not that it matters to any of you. Judgment is hardly found between your quintet and you all look up to Eddie (in a half-brotherly, half-role model sort of way that none of you are willing to own up to). Yes, as the DM and face of Corroded Coffin he’s the leader, but he’s also the only guy willing to give four misfits a place to call theirs. Judgment and scorn are hardly a thing between you all, but now you wonder how true that is.

When it’s brought up, you can’t help but seize and wonder if tonight is the night that discrimination finds its place in your home across from home.

“Wasn’t there that rumor? That you’re gay,” Jeff chuckles against the lip of his beer, “God, that was fucking weird.”

“So weird,” Grant nods, then turns to you, “Where’d that even come from?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling heat lick at your skin under their collective gaze, “Dunno.”

Eddie’s smile falls at your mood change, his brows draw tight, “Do you really have no clue?”

The question isn’t insulting nor is it insinuating anything. Not framed as though he knows something he shouldn’t. It’s pure curiosity.

If there’s anything you want to tell us, now’s the time.

Not in a mean way. More like gentle (if annoying) prodding, like a sitcom mother.

“Yeah. No idea.”

Gareth is suspiciously quiet and attention turns to him. He simply stares at his shoes. Unmoving, unwilling to speak. All eyes return to you and you’re just the same.

Eddie scoots closer to you, he tilts his head, eyes squinting in that stupid way he does when he doesn’t believe you, “Is…”

Your eyes finally shoot up and he hates the fear he sees. It reminds him of how he used to be before his shell grew. 

No, this is different. Nothing like when the popular kids would sneer at him and make his life hell. You’re scared of him. You’re scared of your friends.

“Is it true…?” he’s quiet enough to where you can easily back out and just shake him away.

Jeff and Grant lean away as if you need the air to breathe. You swallow harshly and look to Gareth, who only stares right back. 

Gareth takes the bold move to whisper to you, “No matter what happens, I’m here,” when he can tell you don’t believe him, he continues, “Not joking. I’ll quit the band right now in outrage.”

That gets you to smile and the other boys mirror it.

“It’s okay,” Jeff finally hunches forward again, “if it’s true.”

“It’s perfectly fine,” Gareth adds as he pulls away.

Part of you is scared to come through with the truth - too scared to lose the boys you consider family. Another part of you is scared of hiding yourself from them. Gareth is with you, and if you two don’t have a place here then you trust him to follow you to another one. And if that place isn’t right, then you two can build your own. Maybe Jeff and Grant will even join you both.

But what about Eddie? The one that built the palace you all reside in? The one who held his hand out to you that day with an overly broad smile when Gareth said you could play bass. The one who stands up to Jason when you don’t have the energy. The one who said he wanted to run away with your group and be a traveling circus in his van.

If the boys were your family, Eddie was your bona fide brother. You can’t take the disappointment, but the question is out and he’ll know no matter what you say. The silence would double - it was true and you were ashamed. You’re tired of being ashamed, though.

“Yeah,” you huff and stand, starting to walk away only to turn right back.

They stare up at you. Whether in disbelief or shock or horror, you can’t ultimately tell.

Your hands shove into your pants pockets and you look at the starlit sky.

You decide to close up before they - before Eddie - can say something to shatter you completely.

“If you have a problem with it: fuck you, but please don’t tell anybody,” you kick up dirt from the road, staring down at your shoe rather than the band of boys, “Like it even matters, people already fucking know.”

Slowly, they all come to a stand in front of you.

“Nobody actually knows,” Eddie lays a hand on your shoulder, “and none of us care.”

“We care,” Jeff steps in, pushing Eddie to the side so he can look you in the eyes, his gaze is kind and his smile is reassuring, “just not in the way you’re worried about.”

“We just want you to be happy,” Grant pitches in, “It might take getting used to, but we still love you.”

“You’re one of us, little witch,” Eddie wraps you in his arms, refusing to let go even as you groan about the lingering smell of cigarettes on his clothes. His embrace is chain tight but you can’t bring yourself to want out of it.

Gareth sticks back in the hopes nobody picks up on the fact that he already knew. You two happen to spot each other from over Eddie’s shoulder, though, and he nods with a thumbs up - you return it. 

I’m proud of you, he mouths.

You spent years wondering what everyone in your life would say about you liking girls. What would your parents say? They were open-minded but you could never be completely sure. What would your neighbors say? What would your classmates say? What would Chrissy have said? Her mom would surely disapprove.

Your arms slowly come around Eddie and you squeeze, head lowering until it’s pressed against his shoulder.

Years wasted pretending your heart didn’t beat just a little faster when a pretty girl would smile at you (back when they did, anyway; before you were a total outcast). Months wasted pretending the welcoming bartender at The Hideout that liked to call you hun had no effect on you. Years pretending you weren’t in love with Chrissy Cunningham.

Chrissy was gone but her hands remained wrapped around your heart. If she couldn’t say she loved you then you were content to lay, heartbroken but alive, with the boys you knew were home.

You hate the way your lashes wet and the way you know Eddie can feel your tears blotting through his Metallica shirt. You feel hands rub your back lovingly and you feel Gareth join the hug with a “don’t tell anyone about this” as if his reputation actually matters to him.

You hated that Chrissy left, but you feel so loved - it’s all you could really ask for. Maybe a little more.

A heavy hiccup falls through you and Eddie presses a tender kiss to your head, just like a big brother would. You’re quiet, but you’re sure they hear you,

“Thanks guys.”

They just hug you tighter.

[youremyonlyhope]

The Star Beast

Am I excited for the 60th? Eh... I'm just glad to have Doctor Who to watch after a year of nothing.

Why in the world were my Disney+ subtitles set to Chinese?

Donna my girl. You are the only reason for me to be excited. This whole post has a lot of salt throughout.

Also, I don't know how I feel about the exposition to the camera thing. Twelve did it better. Interesting opening sequence. And I think I have said I like the retro logo. Ok Rachel Talalay directed. That's promising. Those robots in the background felt cyberman-esque. Ughhhhh I have so many thoughts about the choice to have Donna name her daughter Rose. Ugh. I like that the running gag of Donna not seeing the chaos for random mundane reasons continues. Glad she's still roasting him. Ok if this is supposed to be a NEW Doctor, I don't like him saying Allons-y. Please. New catchphrase. The same face doesn't have to mean the same personality. Plus I don't know French but isn't saying "Let's - Allons-y!" redundant? Ok shoutout to Nerys that's fun. Shaun's a good man. I'm very glad we get to see more of him now since he was a bit of a non-character in End of Time. OH GOOD UNIT IS REALLY BACK PROPERLY. Wait do I remember seeing pictures of Kate in promos... I was about to ask why the ship was right side up if it crashed. Ok. It landed. God I've forgotten Donna's mom's name but I'm really glad to see she listened to the Doctor and shows Donna appreciation now. I was just about to ask how long it'd been. Because End of Time aired in 2009/10 but the whole timeline of the RTD era was messed up. So does that mean that Journey's End was technically 2008? God let me not try to make sense of this right now. God I hate this Meep thing with a passion. I hate its eyes. So much. Ah. Nightmare fuel. I don't like the sonic reverting back to be so similar to Nine/Ten's either. It would have been funner if he was using Thirteen's. Plus he should have been in Thirteen's outfit but I've already complained about that for a year. Cowards. "Off you pop" I wonder if that's a reference to Clara in the 50th. What is that the Time Vortex or something? Does Rose crochet these toys? Love that. (For the record I got nothing against Rose at all I'm just mad she was named Rose for pure fan pandering purposes.) Ok now I see why it was hiding in toys in the promo. Sylvia you are totally right to be angry at the Doctor this time around. "Oh wow he's so cute" no, it's nightmare fuel. GOOD JOB SYLVIA. He deserves that slap. Oh poor Shaun. He's such a good man though. Sees the chaos, sees a literal monster, and decides to compliment his mother-in-law's cooking. Good job. "I loved that man." Aw. Me too. "He's not dead." "You idiot." Love it. Kate came in to help take care of Wilf? Oh. Ohhh. My heart. "You've got two hearts? So do I." "You've got what." Oh Donna. Hmm so the hypnotized soldiers are not on the same side as the Wrath... I don't know how I feel about this sonic force field thing but ok. Resonating concrete. I'll accept that reference because it's about Nine. "Or we've got things very, very wrong." Yep I agree that Meep is probably evil and as nightmarish as the Meep looks. A living sun. I'll accept that reference because it's about Martha. Please RTD, reference something OTHER than your era though for this 60th anniversary of the whole show. SEE I TOLD YOU IT WAS A NIGHTMARE CREATURE. "With your weird child." Ah so Beep the Meep is a transphobe too. SEE. SEEEEEE. I WAS RIGHT TO HATE THIS THING. "I'm just passing by" Ok I always liked that line. God I hate this thing. SHE SAID THE DOCTOR. Ok these random Winter Soldier trigger words would have meant more had they actually be put into the show at some point prior to this. Because I have absolutely no memory of any of this besides the repeated "binary binary binary." Donna Noble is descending. Fixing up all the burning caverns like that is nonsense. OK ROSE. OK.

Ok no wait now I'm mad again. At first when the show was in promotions the assumption was that Donna named Rose subconsciously. Because we weren't sure if Yasmin was playing a trans character or not. Then when this episode started I was like "Ok so Rose picked the name Rose by random when she transitioned and it's a coincidence. Fine I'll accept that." but didn't actually put it in the post. And now NO. SHE HAS SOME OF THE METACRISIS IN HER. SO SHE NAMED HERSELF AFTER ROSE. I'm mad all over again. Just let it go RTD2!

Ok the Keep Out on the shed might be a reference to Twelve's sign on his Tardis. Fine. Fine. I'll take that. Glad they didn't zoom in on the Adipose before that. that would have been too obvious. Because the toy is just straight up an Adipose. Also happy 10th birthday to Owen the Adipose plushie I crocheted around this same time. "We're binary." "She's not." "Because the Doctor's male" "And female" "And neither. And more." Ok ok confirmation of the Doctor being non-binary ok. This has been a rollercoaster of me being angry and me being happy. "My father would be impressed, I have no higher compliment" That is VERY true there is not a higher compliment than that. Oh is the episode going to be dedicated to Bernard... Oh and we're getting that Toymaker dude later right? And Rose makes toys. Ok I see why this random Old Who villain is relevant to this story. "Shame you're not a woman anymore, cause she would have understood." True. So they can just... let the time lord energy go... sure I guess? OK THE SIGN BY THE ROBOT THINGS SAYS CYBERDOG. I DIDN'T SEE THAT BEFORE. THEY WERE MEANT TO LOOK LIKE CYBERMEN. I do like Ten being insulted by Shaun saying "But not him." since I do somewhat headcanon Ten as being a bit in love with Donna.

Ok at this point I realized that Tumblr had stopped autosaving this draft around when we saw the Adipose. So let's see if I can even post this last half.

I don't mind this Tardis design. Kind of like One's mixed with Eleven's. Ok the set itself is actually impressive. I like it. Oh Donna. Ew I do not like the breathy Doctor Who theme nope.

No dedication to Bernard at the end. Did we already get something dedicated to him? Or maybe they'll just dedicate the episode he's actually in.

As an episode, it was cute and fun. I think RTD2 needs to take some of his own advice and let it go, specifically the Rose thing.

As a 60th anniversary special... Ok I was glad this episode wasn't just purely RTD era callbacks every other moment. But still, it's an anniversary special. Give me more about all 60 years. Or at least the very least more about the Moffat and Chibnall eras. I guess we'll have to see since all 3 episodes are supposed to be anniversary specials. But for the episode airing closest to the anniversary, I'm disappointed that it didn't feel like an anniversary episode.

Edit: I went to check the cast and at the time it had a 9.2 on IMDB and was above Blink as highest rated episode. It's now down to 8.2 which is more reasonable. But god I'm annoyed at the way some fans have just eaten up all this pandering.

[tkblythofficial]

Chemistry can fade if it isn’t natured but fondness might stay. X-files, I wanna believe so I’ll go with it tbh.

Oh, yin and yang mean harmony but lends well enough for lust and arousal. However, from what I googled, they can also have dramatic arguments, whatever that means.  Care to expand?

R’s a taurus, right? That’s a home sign? Sorry, I’m not very familiar with tarot lmfao. But the website I’m on said they prefer familiarity and comfort and it takes a lot to make them budge from a POV so J has for the time being.

BB won’t let Tom go easily though. If anything, I’m convinced she can pose more of a headache to him than J.

Now, I’m raising my eyebrows. What do you mean, “you don’t think T and R hangout too much without J?”  You mean to say he’s always lurking??  I call it coded tweets and shares but it’s more her ‘likes’ and the stuff she re-posts. So, she liked a post saying she wanted a co-dependent relationship with a friend. She liked a post saying she was feeling lonely (hello, she’s already in a relationship. Shouldn’t her relationship be providing her with solace?  She liked a post a months ago which said understood Ariana Grande and that desire can be all consuming. That it takes brass to go through such pain but sometimes pain is desire. I’m serious. She constantly sings Tom praises and every-time BB’s private account makes some airy literature quote etc. etc. 

 I love that! A forbidden fruit, but forbidden fruit also brings guilt, right? Flirting and rapport is normal amongst people who get on well. But guilt mixed with desire can get very masochistic, fast. Her freezing/clamming up is because she wants to sublimate her desire. She wants Tom to absorb her sexuality and have it fuel him when they interact but not actually do anything. That can be a difficult place for men. Take, that video where they are staring into each-other’s eyes on the red-carpet. R kinda bites her lip when she looks up at him and as if sensing it, T wraps his arm gently around her waist. There’s a brief moment where Rachel shivers, no it isn’t from the weather - but then she gradually leans onto his shoulder. Her body relaxing into him as Tom looks back at the cameras. Their dynamic is utter damsel wanting it but only with a baked in get-out clause.

I do wonder if they’ve ever visited each-other’s places? Like does R know what his apartment looks like? Does T know hers? The implication of this really gets the neurons firing.

Your friend’s got to elaborate. Are we talking passionate, I want your baby inside me hell (would that be hell? Lol) or chaotic-paparazzi/tabloid bloggy hell?

1. Dramatic arguments? I can see that because yin and yang are opposites so sometimes they can bump heads until they find a balance or compromise to their situation.

2. Yes, R is Taurus. They seem to love familiarity and stability.

3. BB isn’t letting go anytime soon either. She’ll stay as long as T wants her.

4. Yeah I don’t think R and T would hang out in a restaurant alone, ya know? J would be there too. R and T was alone during filming and certain events but if it’s not job related, I can’t see J wanting her to be alone with him. Why BB doesn’t go with them is a better question. Why is T always alone with R and J?

R always likes different tweets but I agree. Liking tweets about codependent friendships is eyebrow raising.

But I don’t get what you mean about BB? Can you clarify about “BB’s private acct making some airy literature quote?” Are you on her acct lol?

5. Interesting body language analysis. Which red carpet? From the below photo? If so, then yes, she was very flirty the entire time.

6. Since R has seen his motorcycle then yes, I’m sure she’s seen his apartment. T has visited her before so yes, he’s been in her apartment.

7. lol I’ll ask her!

[nyctophiliq]

SO REAL SO REAL WAIT

n imagine when she sees u again she snaps at u in front of the guards, puts on a lil show

she drags u into her office and slams the door, then holds up tight

grabbing at every part of ur body desperately

she’s like a woman starved

and u let it happen cs u miss her to much to care about anything else other than the woman touching u like ur an oasis

n she holds u on her lap and whispers sweet things and massages ur tense shoulders n caters to u

n she leaves purple marks on ur neck and savours YOU and the moment

i’m watching the menu.. ☠️☠️ so.. might be a lil munch-oriented

no because she would be a starving woman for you, god, she misses you so bad and it gets the better her. trying to be no feelings just sex is an act she can't put up cuz god she did miss you so bad and not just for sex.

maybe it doesnt even have to be sex at all sometimes for her, making out and the inappropriate touching with the hickeys and such. god the touch of that woman is like a whole bottle of wine and another few shots of vodka or tequila. and on the topic of alcohol, she probably tastes of a glass of wine or two by the time you arrive- she enjoys being buried in her books to fuel her passion for knowledge but it's been so hard, she misses you so much, she needs liquid courage to allow herself to fantasies, to calm herself that you will come home to her soon

[chiefbeifongcanrailme]

for linxzekou plssss

sfw 3, 4, 5

nswf: 1, 3, 5, 7, 9

Firstly, thank you so much for asking about my OC! Literally makes my day that you guys care so much🥺🥺

SFW:

3) Arguments headcanon:

I think their arguments often start off with something silly like Lin working too hard or Zek trying to do something nice that inadvertently goes awry. With them, unfortunately, their arguments can make mountains out of molehills, and given the current plot of Soul, Tenzin is a very strong contender in the calamity that's going to turn out of their relationship.

4) Playful/silly headcanon

Zek loves playing with Lin's hair. When she's lying in bed, half asleep, half planning her next day, Zek runs his fingers through her head, petting her slowly into slumber. Lin loves when he does this, but doesn't ever let him know how she tries to resist sleep just to enjoy his touch. He thinks her hair is soft, and he can't stop himself from loving her in his silly little way.

5) Night in headcanon

A night in typically involves cooking together, eating with some spunky jazz music playing in the background followed by dessert while listening to the probending match on the radio. They curl up together on the couch, Zek's fingers threading through her hair until she falls asleep in front of the warmth of the fireplace and the embrace of a firebender. He gives her a soft kiss on her cheek and whispers, "Bed?" and she simply hums in response as he carries her in, and together, they cuddle up under the sheets.

NSFW:

1) Positions/locations headcanon:

Zek absolutely loves holding Lin. His favorite position is sideways, with Lin's back against him so he has all the control in thrusting as well as drawing her closer and closer into his body. Lin likes to get on top of his lap for a ride while he's sitting with the newspaper or so. Naturally, the newspaper ends up on the floor, and Zek, on cloud nine.

Considering they only ever meet after their 50s, they aren't big on exciting locations as such. Between their bedroom, the couch, and the occasional passion-fueled rendezvous on the kitchen counter, they haven't quite had the need to look around for locations.

3) Favourite kinks/fantasies/toys:

Shibari? I'm only saying that because Zek's the captain of the ship and knows all the 1249082034802 different ways of tying a knot lmao. I think the use of bending may be a slightly prevalent feature of their sex life. Warm hands and metallic handcuffs make a good pairing. I'm not sure what kinda toys exist in the atla-verse during this time but I would say the equivalent of a vibrator may be invited to Lin and Zek's private parties.

5) Public play headcanon:

Oh, they're not into any kind of PDA. The last thing Lin wants is attention from the media for the wrong reasons or having her romantic life on full blast again so they keep a low profile. Zek respects this about her and makes sure to ensure privacy anytime they're heading out. With that being said, I doubt they engage in anything salacious in public, unless Lin has done a perimeter check using her seismic sense when the city is evacuated lol. Zek believes that they don't need that kinda excitement because their sex life is great as is, and would rather show her the best time in the privacy of their home than risk something out in the open.

7) Foreplay/turn-ons headcanon:

For Lin, massages are a huge turn-on. When Zek brings his warm hands on her shoulder, it's either going to relax her to sleep or have her fully ravage him in thanks. Zek likes to unravel her slowly: he's a gentleman like that, 'ladies first'. Kissing is a huge part of their foreplay since they're both great kissers and it quickly turns into a competition on who's going to have the other come undone with just their lips. Oral sex is also a huge plus. Zek loves giving more than receiving and Lin, well, Lin doesn't mind his preferences😉. Zek's scent is a huge turn-on for Lin and Lin's bare legs are a huge turn-on for Zek.

9) Who teases the other? Who’s more impatient? Who usually initiates?

Ugh this one's hard. I would say Zek's the one to initiate it with his "Oh honey, you look tired let me give you a little shoulder rub." He knows it's a hit or a miss, even though that's not always his intention. But then again, Lin's the one who turns her massage session into a sex and Zekou is just more than happy to comply. Oftentimes, Zek likes to tease her down there with his tongue, edging her along while she's looking for a release. In this circumstance, Zek's a tease and Lin's impatient, but when she's dressed up all sexy and pristine with buttons and bows and laces galore, Zek is wildly impatient and Lin enjoys watching her man all hot and bothered over lingerie.

Ask me about my headcanons!

[starrbar]

Okay so Yin Yang Yo! was my absolute FAVORITE fucking show when I was a young kid, like I dunno, 10 to 13 years old. I recently revisited the show and well, I've outgrown the writing QUITE a bit. I'm in my late twenties now. But it's still very nostalgic to me, and I figured hey, I got a few light-hearted ideas, so I'll scribble em down and post em somewhere.

One of my favorite characters from YYY was Yuck because he was cute and scruffy. I like scruffy. And I probably enjoyed his voice acting too.

Anyway, I spat out some ideas for how I might rewrite the episode "Yin Yang Yuck" for a fanfic or something, but I'm too busy to write a whole fanfic, so here's the raw juices.

So first, I don't like how flippant the beginning is. Yin and Yang fight daily, and often physically, so it seems silly that this one time only, they would create life. What's a specific thing Yin and Yang would do in this fight that's different from others?

Let's say they've both been learning a new move that's high level. Master Yo taught them the basics, but neither of them can successfully use it. Hell, Woo Foo Aura might be good for this? Putting aside Aura Or Not cause I'm just having fun here.

Yin has a partial grasp on the idea of it because she'll happily express love and passion, but Yang is too embarrassed to express himself and he tries not to feel those vulnerable emotions. So let's say Yin gets REALLY pissed at Yang one day (hopefully over something much less dumb than what started their fight in canon) and she gives in to using her anger for her aura instead, and Yang does the same, even though his anger is normally performative and light-hearted. The two of them genuinely set out to hurt each other in some way, which is what flares up their worst traits—traits they're directly channeling into physical Woo Foo energy.

Their auras reject them because of their misuse of their emotions to fuel the power, and instead they clash and combine. The sheer power creates a new being made of both of their worst qualities, topped off with hatred for each of those qualities and their good ones as well, because well, they were feeling some level of hatred for each other in those moments.

He calls himself Yuck because he is full of self-loathing and awful contradictions, and because the parts of Yin and Yang that love one another despite their differences did not get transferred to him. Yin and Yang are left without the ability to feel any negative hateful emotions. Maybe sadness? But not anger. Not the desire to harm.

I also just realized that yeah, I'd make Yuck nonbinary because he was made from a boy and girl who perform their genders in such AGGRESSIVELY normative ways, but I could buy that he uses he/him because nobody in this family knows what nonbinary is and Yuck isn't really concerned with it, but he still finds that he's completely being perceived either way. He doesn't care about his pronouns, etc.

He's also not really in a position to figure out what identity makes him feel right? Because again, he's just made out of awful traits. He's ashamed of ALL his interests and all his circumstances (and Yin and Yang's circumstances), so he lashes out any time someone tries to be nice and understanding towards him. He's disgusted by Yin and Yang's sugary sweet kindness. He's driven to violent rage when someone so much as steps in his way. He snaps at people when they seem to "have a tone" or look at him grumpily or don't respond to him quickly enough. He perceives every action someone takes in the worst possible light. He's miserable.

Master Yo is alarmed at what Yin and Yang did, and especially that it resulted in a new living person being made. He decides that it would be the most humane to split him back up and send his traits back to the twins, because they're incomplete without being able to work through them naturally, and Yuck is a being created purely to hate and hurt. However, Yuck doesn't want to die, of course. So he attacks.

Master Yo can easily kick his ass tbh. There's no reason little level 2 Yuck should be able to beat a Woo Foo master. But maybe Yuck has hostages. He doesn't attack Master Yo directly, he keeps him away by threatening others. Yin and Yang have to come up behind him and try to take him by surprise, and then they have to "kill" him to his face when their surprise attack fails. It pains them both to do this, but they have to be whole again.

After the fight, they're back to their normal selves and Yuck is gone, and they still feel like they just did something cruel....