#anyway! have the thoughts my brain has been unable to let go of

[animentality]

Do you think Gortash would still love Durge even after their bad ending (you know when they betray Bhaal and choose to surrender themselves to prison at the end) and they’ve gone mad?

For example, let’s say in an alternate scenario where Gortash survives at the end of the game. All the other companions have abandoned Durge, do you think Gortash would step in and try to help them? Do anything?

I've wracked my brain at night thinking about it.

On the one hand, the part of me that looks exclusively at in game Gortash says that Gortash wouldn't love them without power and without reason.

Because the more canon aligned Gortash is more pragmatic than emotional and although I do think his feelings verged into the impractical, he still fundamentally needs balance.

He's a domineering kind of guy, he gets along with Durge because they refused to be cowed in any way by him, and he dared not pity them or treat them with anything less than the utmost respect.

He can't sweep them under his tidal wave of personality, he crashes upon their shore, and they chip away at each other, grain by grain, in a tumultuous but steady balance.

they had a tango, you know. two partners working together. sex and love stemmed from something other than practicality, but it was practicality that brought them together initially.

He loves the Dark Urge for their power and reason, and without those two things... maybe he wouldn't seek them out.

especially not after they betrayed him.

and I don't know. the more assholish Gortash would see their alliance as having reached its inevitable conclusion. the more... emotional but distant Gortash would say, goodbye, old friend.

I wish you could've escaped your master, as I escaped mine.

and he wouldn't see them again.

but canon aligned Gortash is underwritten anyway.

so I'll do Larian's job for them and say...

well.

it could go either way.

I can see Gortash abandoning them because he is literally unable to look upon his former love, completely without freewill, and not feel soul crushing, life ending despair.

I could see it being too painful to see them when he knows he can't help them and they can't be helped by anyone, and they're gone, and he has to accept that.

again.

but I can also see...

a determined Gortash.

who has nothing now, except perhaps a desire for revenge against Durge. but as they are, mad and alone and insatiable, why even bother, right?

Bhaal has tortured them more than Gortash ever could.

maybe he keeps them locked in a basement somewhere, and at first it's just to lord it over them. mock their failure, their inability to prevent themselves from becoming like this.

in the beginning, he's still bitter about his plan failing and he blames them. to him, maybe it's a cosmic justice...

he says you could've ruled the world with me at your side and Bhaal and Bane at our backs.

but you chose this instead.

but as time goes on, his heart softens and he starts wondering if they're in there somewhere.

the only person who could understand him.

whom he could understand truly.

and maybe they're down there somewhere, trying to be understood again.

so he shows them things he hopes they remember about the life they shared together for a brief but important time. maybe books they talked about. blueprints he showed them of his future inventions. their notebooks, left behind. their old clothing, left over after long nights spend fucking and arguing.

maybe he tries to find a cure. he has some medical expertise, right? from dissecting people. maybe he tries to find a solution, some way to bring them back. maybe he pours himself into studies of bhaalspawn and deeper magic, trying to find some way to bring back a person whose mind has been ravaged into nothing.

but worst case scenario ...

he has to give up on all that... and give them the death he knows they would've asked for, had they been conscious.

so.

yeah.

anon. I've thought of it.

[purple-dahlias]

All houses are haunted. Everywhere I’ve ever lived has been haunted

1. Ash, Tracy K Smith 2. Anatomy, Kitty Horrorshow 3. Little talks, Of Monsters and Men 4. Doctor Who 5. Why are you haunted: a survey, Joan Tierney 6. I know the end, Phoebe Bridgers 7. Dark Places: The Haunted House in Film, Barry Curtis 8. The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, John Koenig 9. Things We Say in the Dark, Kirsty Logan 10. Ghosts in the attic

[tojisun]

biker!simon is slowly rotting my brain and i’m all here for it !! the way you write him makes me want to giggle and kick my feet 😵‍💫🫶🏼

so i just wanted to throw this idea out there…there was a tiktok video i saw (i couldn’t find it 😔) but it’s this couple on a bike and the backpack reaches forward and like…palms the the guy through his jeans and he holds her hand there for a sec and 👀 i just thought that fit for biker!simon

anyways !! love you and your writing

AHHHHH THATS SO HOT WHAT THE HELLLL??? no yea reader def does that <33 also? luv how u call her backpack!!! its such a cute nickname omgg!!! and thank u so so much my starlight <33 i love you too!

biker!simon mlist // suggestive - minors dni!! hinted exhibitionism bc simon n reader are nastily in luv!

you are simon’s good girl so, naturally, you usually don’t do this. but in your defence, it is dark outside, the roads empty except for sprinkles of other night riders that you two briefly share the road with.

it’s yet another late drive, you and simon having just left the meet up – easily one of the rowdiest you’ve ever been to. 

when you told simon how heedy you’re feeling from the buzzing energy, he laughed and told you that it’s even more packed this time because of the upcoming rally. you oohed and aahed, and simon fondly rolled his eyes at your obvious cluelessness before steering you past strangers to introduce you to his other friends – alejandro, rudy, and that one big guy who insists on being called konig. 

“nice to meet you katzchen,” he said, taking your arm up to bump it on the mouth of his helmet – something he never took off for the whole day. 

“nice to meet you too! although i didn’t quite catch that- what’s it that you said last?” 

konig’s eyes crinkled, his smile hidden by his helmet, before he let go of your hand and then disappeared into the masses.

what the fuck?

you turned to simon only to see him glaring at where konig used to stand. 

“si?”

“it’s nothin’, sweet girl. wanna come meet up with mactavish?”

simon slows down to a stop in front of a red light, one of his hands leaving his handlebar to reach back to your thigh. it is a routine at this point – simon’s hand caressing your leg, gently massaging, his thumb pressing into tensed muscle, before squeezing once, twice, three times, before pulling away to hold his handlebar again once the light turns green. 

it is a routine, but it still makes your heart jump to your throat, feeling the way his palm leaves burning trails at each glide. your arms tighten around his waist and you are sure that simon felt the way your breath hitched, but he continues on anyway – teasing touches gaining purpose, sliding up-down, before gripping whatever flesh he can. you bump your helmet to his back, a muffled whine sitting in the base of your throat, feeling your lungs wobble at his touch. 

then, he hikes his hand up higher – this is new, something simon has never done before. has never dared to try, especially on the open road.

he tickles his touch up, kneading your muscle until his hand bumps into the swell of your ass. he gives it a squeeze, just a quick pressure, then he rips his hand off now that the light turns green. he revs his bike as a warning – just enough that you tighten your arms around him again – before speeding away, acting like he didn’t just send heat coursing through your veins.

you feel his stomach contract, muscles moving underneath his shirt, and-

oh. 

simon’s laughing.

the haze in you shifts, snapping into something playful. teasing.

you wait until his silent chuckles dissipate, pretending to still be overtaken by his slyness and making him think that you are still unable to move on. well, perhaps there is truth to your lie because yes you are unable to move on, but you hope to hell he wouldn’t be able to as well.

he takes a right turn, his bike dipping close to the asphalt, the sound of his engine purring beautifully, and you think: this is it.

time to reward your big boy.

your touches start off slow. gradual. 

you loosen your arms around his waist, easing your gloved hands off from where they laid tangled together to plant the flat of your palms on simon’s stomach. you feel his abdomen jump, not anticipating the shift in your hold, and you bite on your bottom lip to smother a giggle. 

simon tilts his helmeted head, confused, but you ignore him, busy mapping the hard muscles of his abdomen with kitten-light swipes. one of your hands rises up to caress his chest, swiping a hand between his pecs before falling back to his belly. the other – and this one makes you breathless too – falls to his lap, rubbing at his thigh before swiping it towards his pelvis only to swipe it back out as though you weren’t close to cupping him through his jeans.

your chest vibrates with something guttural and it takes you a heartbeat to realize you were not the one emitting the sound. it was coming from simon, a sound so deep it reverberates between where the two of you are pressed.

the chuckles leave your lips this time around, unable to hold it in anymore. unconsciously, your hand grazes the half-formed tent underneath his jeans, and simon does that rumbling sound again that just heightens your elation.

you are still reeling over your mini revenge that you don’t notice simon taking a new turn, his bike roaring as it speeds through narrow roads and into a dimly-lit and certainly abandoned parking lot.

what-

“si?” you ask, confusion rising when simon turns his engine off before tapping your leg to signal you to get off.

you do, clamouring up, eyes wide as you watch simon follow. he pulls his helmet off and straps it on his bike before twisting his body to face you.

his eyes crinkle, glinting with something dangerous, and you know he’s grinning underneath his balaclava. desire shoots through your spine, realizing where he’s going with this.

simon laughs, seeing the way you straightened up, alert even when something carnal thrums within your veins.  

“that’s right, princess,” he rumbles, his voice thick with want, as he unbuckles his belt. “y’r gonna finish what y’started, aren’t you?”

you nod, already pulling your helmet off your head and wobbling towards him on weak knees. simon takes your helmet from you, his hands brushing against yours, and just before you can kneel down in front of him, simon coos, “knew you are my good girl.”

[princessbrunette]

I have been doing ballet rehearsals alllll day and I’m so soreeee!! just thinking about John b n his magical massage skills + dick like ugh he would make EVERYTHING better

this is so relatable bc after ballet john b n his firm hands n gentle ways is always who im craving <3

⤷ ‧₊˚ 🐶🩰🎀 ⋅ ˚⭑

john b can always trust that when you come home from ballet you’re going to be in a mood. it’s one of the more graceful forms of dance, so it always catches him off guard to see the comparison of your body language when you arrive back to the chateau, slumped and sore with a pouty attitude and permanent frown.

luckily for you, your boyfriend is a problem fixer. always has been, and dating you means he understands the formula behind getting you to do certain things. in this case, he wanted to rid of your attitude — and whilst you weren’t necessarily being mean or doing anything that warranted punishment, the only other option was that you needed your brain turned off for a little while. he knew just how to sink you into that soft subspace in the clouds.

he’s got you sat on his lap with his dick inside you to the hilt. yes, to the hilt. john b was big, obscenely so — which meant sometimes having him in all the way would be just enough to have you speechless, unable to form a coherent thought. having your tight walls warming his length wasn’t enough to get you to fully switch off though, not like this anyway. for special occasions like this, he reserved his magic combination. dick in your guts, and a little pink vibrator held to your clit.

your mouth is open but sound rarely leaves you, just small squeaks and little sobs of overstimulation. he’d already had you cum on his cock from just this, wincing and letting out bass-y hums from his chest as your soaked walls squeeze and flutter around him incessantly, your own release squelching and dripping down to collect beneath the two of you. he doesn’t relent with the vibrator, your body frail and trembling in his arms as he continues his magic on your clit.

“okay, bug. let it out. i knooow.” he cooes, voice deep and warm and comforting — the only thing grounding you. with the pleasure and sensitivity coursing through your body, you can no longer feel the ache in your back or the fresh bruises on your feet. “would i ever just let my puppy be in pain? must’ve known i’d fix you right up, sweetheart. daddies always got you, huh?”

his free hand slides up the centre of your body, fingers splayed and palm coarse. it makes you shudder, clenching around him hard as it continues its descent until his thumb is tapping at your lips, the rest of his fingers curling beneath your chin. “you might want something to suck on, sweet girl. gonna make you cum another couple’a times. you know, gotta make sure i really hit your off switch.”

⤷ ‧₊˚ 🐶🩰🎀 ⋅ ˚⭑

[risuola]

AFTERCARE — GN. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN

Sukuna would never say out loud that he enjoys taking care of you but he cannot deny it before himself.

cw: suggestive, mostly Sukuna being confused with his own feelings, smut... happened, but is not described, Sukuna has his own body, reader discretion is advised — 1,1k words

a/n: this one is a part of my kinktober prototype that didn't make a cut into the final lineup, but I thought I'll share it anyway :3

Ryomen Sukuna was never a man of excessive affection. Things such as love and care made for the foreign concept for the majority of his existence and it’s no wonder why when his heart, that he was certain was frozen for the last millennium, discovered the warmth of your existence right next to him, he was confused, to say the least. Unable to fully comprehend the reason standing behind his will to stay by your side after getting his own release.

“It could’ve hurt more,” he mumbled, smoothing his fingers over the aching muscles of your shoulder. In his head, it sounded reassuring – he wasn’t intending to hurt you, but his sheer power over your human body always caused some damage and it honestly made him wonder why he would even agree to be with you. 

You were drained, completely exhausted, half-conscious and panting over his chest where your head rested. It was one of those nights that from the very beginning foreshadowed some violence. That day Sukuna got home possessed by burning fury. It wasn’t often, he usually was good at managing his anger, at least to the point of not causing any damage to you, but sometimes, on the days like this, he was too gone for any kind of self-control. To his defense, first he declined your suggestion to take this to the bed where you wanted to make sure he’s going to let the steam off. He pushed you away saying that he will hurt you if he fucks you in that state, but you insisted that he’s not going to harm you.

And of course, he did. After many long and rough hours of the ruthless, punishing pace of his thrusts, after every harsh slap and strong grip, after all of the bites, sucks and scratches, your body was aching. It gave up under the sheer pressure of his demonic stamina and strength, and by no means you ever considered yourself weak physically. You were not some fragile human, but in the grasp of the king of curses, you were not much more than a mere mortal.

That night, Sukuna fucked a hole through your soul, with ease turning your brain into a boiling flurry, pushing your edges further and further until they snapped like a rubber band that’s been stretched a little too much. It hurt, but at the same time, there was a pleasure impossible to describe with words. Your body never failed to react to Ryomen, almost sadistically seeking lust where others would see malice and even in the state of absolute distress, he’s instinctively forcing those mind-numbing gestures all over the act. He knew how to angle his hips to hit the right spots inside of you, he knew how to operate along the sensitive places all over your skin to drive you crazy. Even while in the middle of releasing his anger, he unknowingly cared for you.

That care always become more vibrant when everything’s done. When you fall over his strong, toned frame breathless and sore, his mind immediately switches into the aftercare mode, which got installed into his software forcefully, violating every rule of being a heartless monster.

“It could have hurt more,” he cooed softly, failing to recognize his own voice, but it was alright. He accepted it long time ago. Somehow, to pamper you after he nearly broke you to pieces added up in his head and the absolute pliability of your body in his hands, the control he had tickled his ego. For Sukuna, it felt like a duty, like an inseparable part of the whole act of sex. When you two first started hooking up, he felt incomplete leaving you in the bed after he sucked out all of your life energy.

“That’s reassuring, ‘kuna,” you croaked out, your voice bearing a little bit of rasp from all the sounds he forced out of your mouth, and all the length that you took down your throat.

“I warned you,” he sighed, pulling you even closer before wrapping his hands around you in a way that allowed him to scoop you up from the bed. “Let me clean you up and you’ll rest, how’s that sound?”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Of course I will,” he reassured, turning on the water, somehow keeping you up in his embrace with just one of his arms. The strength his form held was unmatched, really. “I live here, after all.” Sukuna added, matter-of-factly, but truth was it wasn’t as obvious as it sounded. Even though your apartment was now a permanently shared space with the curse, he had no muscle memory to lay down every night to sleep. He was still learning how to act like a human, after a thousand years of living as a curse.

“Then, it sounds perfect,” you smiled softly and exhaled deeper feeling the hot water hitting your aching muscles. Relaxation began filling your system, the knots all over your body began to untie themselves and you wondered sometimes, how much of that relief was caused by the warm shower and how much of it was due to strong, manly hands that kept you up. You knew his abilities to heal and also, you knew that often he was using them to repair some damages you took during fights or due to your clumsiness – usually though, he would act like he didn’t do anything, brushing any questions off because admitting to willingly helping a human, even the one he loves, was still a little too much for him to settle for. So, you learned to ask no questions, only sometimes feeling a little playful to tease him about it, but overall, you chose not to bring up the topic.

Although Sukuna would never say out loud that he enjoys taking care of you, he couldn’t deny it before himself. It felt new to him to carry you so delicately and yet he was feeling the little contented sparks lighting up in his mind when he did that. He found it prideful to know you put your life entirely in his hands, that even though he’s a curse, you trust him with yourself when you’re vulnerable.

Washed and dried, the king laid you back down onto the bed as the procedure of aftercare continued. He allowed you to cuddle to his warm body, skin in full contact to skin and only then you began to fully relax, breathing in his presence and feeling the love he would probably never word right inside your veins. His calloused fingertips were painting shapes over the delicate skin of your body as he listened to your steady breath and the softest purrs, barely hearable through the sound of your exhales. He slowly circled around every bruise and bitemark he’s left on you that he had now access to and as he brushed over them, he made sure to heal them just enough for you to not feel any pain.

Sukuna’s aftercare isn’t all vibrant and flashy. He’s not the one to jump around you with blankets and hot chocolate, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

[avocado-writing]

Could I have Halsin x afab!enby!reader smut with some breeding kink, please?

notes: darling you're so polite when you request smut, like you're ordering from a menu of course you can 😌

rating: E. This is filthy. Minors dni

pairing: halsin x reader

words: <1k

It feels like every aspect of your existence has been narrowed down to this point - here, now, speared on your druid’s cock.

Halsin is an attentive lover; he fucks you like it is his duty. You’re laid out on your back beneath him, candyfloss-brained and pliable like clay, every aspect of you his. He unmakes you with his touch, brings you to ecstasy over and over, content just to watch your pleasure - he told you once that you were nature’s most exquisite sight and, given the way he’s staring down at you now with pupils so wide that his irises are obscured, you might just be able to believe it.

“Ahh… Halsin…” you manage, pawing up at his thick chest with boneless fingers. He takes your hand in a firm, sweet embrace, raising it so he can kiss you on your wrist, your palm, your knuckles. 

“My love. Perfect. I want you in every possible way.”

His eyes flash with a devilish delight, and in that moment you know what he’d ask of you. It’s something which you freely give.

“Halsin… put a baby in me…” you sigh, linking your ankles at the small of his back to drive his cock even deeper into you. He is thick, wonderfully so, and long too - he reaches further inside of you than anyone ever has before. You are full to the brim with Halsin, Halsin, Halsin; the warm rub of him driving you wild. 

But you want to be overflowing.

When he hears those words stumble from your lips his thrusting goes erratic for a beat, you can feel him throb. He makes a low, bestial growl in the back of his throat. A primal noise, possessive.

“Hmm… If you ask me to do that, I will be unable to stop having you until I’m certain that you’re pregnant. I can barely keep my hands off of you anyway. but if you want me to give you a child you… there is a chance you won’t leave our bed until I can see how round you are.”

You moan at the idea of him keeping you in one place and pumping you so full of spend that your puffy hole is constantly dripping with it. That he has to bring you food and water to keep you contented because you’re so cock-drunk that you can’t move. No room for thoughts. Just open legs and willing cunt until you can feel your womb quicken with him.

“Do it, Halsin, fuck. Mark me as yours. Show the world who shares my bed every night. I want everyone to look at me and know what you’ve done…”

Another growl, this one louder, and marked with the snapping of his hips forward into you. The sounds of wetness coming from your coupling are lewd and gorgeous as he pounds into you over and over. You don’t think that you’ve ever been this wet. 

His hand spreads out across the expanse of your stomach, warmth from his skin seeping into you. It is as if he is picturing his seed taking root inside of you. You are ripe, willing, and desperate for it, for him, and he is vicious about the idea of you swelling with a cub he breeds into you. 

Hips move faster. You’re going to finish. He’s going to finish, and as the head of his cock bounces into the sweet spot against your walls you feel him come harder than he’s ever done before - he lets out a bitten-off roar as he spills, filling you over and over with his hot jets. As the inside of your cunt is coated you follow him over the precipice and experience an orgasm so intense that it feels as if your soul has left your body for a moment - but Halsin brings you back with a fierce kiss.

He continues to ride out his release inside of you, tender little rolls of his hips until he begins to soften. Even then he remains inside of you, connected in the most intimate of embraces, forehead resting against yours as the two of you breathe the same air.

“Gods,” you manage eventually, and Halsin laughs, low and gravelly.

“Oak Father preserve us all. You will be the end of me, you know.”

“Yes, and won’t it be fun?” you say with a cheeky grin. He groans.

“I don’t know if my old bones can take it.”

“Well, I believe in you. Fancy trying again? I want you to make good on your promise, you know, and the more we try the better our odds are…” 

He lets out another low noise, and with glee you feel him harden again.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @infinitely-kate @trappedinlimbo15 @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget

[j0elmill3r]

Emotional Motion Sickness

Pairing - Joel Miller x Daughter!Reader, Ellie Williams x Miller!reader

Summary - Joel relives the worst night of his life when you are critically injured.

Warnings - Violence, blood, injuries, angst, sad Joel

Word Count - 2.5k words

Anonymous asked:

Hello! I wanted to tell you that I love your writing❣️ and by the way, I wanted to ask you for a petition for Joel miller x daughter! reader. Where his daughter is almost on her deathbed and has Deja vu with what happened with Sarah.

A/N - Okay what's going on? Why am I so motivated to write? Anyway, as always, thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy it! Feedback, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated!

Joel Miller Masterlist

You'd basically begged your dad to let you come with you, despite being 23 years old, Joel still very much babied you. You sometimes wondered if he still thought of you as the same person that you had been at the start of the apocalypse, an innocent child entirely dependent on her father - He made you think that he couldn't come to terms that you had grown up in this world, having had your entire childhood robbed from you. But if you were being totally honest, you didn't really know anything other than this world, and that's why you thought you bonded with Ellie so well, thinking of her as your younger sister - A bittersweet thought for Joel, since you were a younger sister, even though you had no older sister anymore and were now older than her, it was funny, you were now older than your older sister. He liked to think you and Sarah would share the same bond at that age that you and Ellie do now, even as adults.   

You looked over to the bed Ellie lay in as you heard her giggle to herself - That stupid joke book, you thought to yourself, but hey, it was the little things in this world. She looked over at you.

"Hey, do you wanna hear a joke?" She asked you. You turned over on your other side to look at Ellie and nodded, knowing that you didn't really have a choice in the matter. "Okay, Why did the scarecrow get a promotion?" She started.

"I don't know, why did the scarecrow get a promotion?" You amused her. Ellie giggled to herself before continuing on with her joke.

"Because he was outstanding in his field," You shook your head as Ellie continued giggling. There was something oddly comforting in her jokes, they reminded you of the ones your dad used to tell you when you were little when he was trying to get a smile out of you when you were grumpy. "Your dad doesn't find my jokes funny." Ellie whined. You laughed and shook your head, laying on your back.

"To be fair, your jokes are pretty bad," You broke the devastating news to her, hearing Ellie gasp, and you smiled in amusement.

"I, am gonna go to sleep now and pretend that you didn't say that," Ellie told you. "Goodnight, traitor." She said, trying to sound as offended as she possibly could.

"Goodnight, Ellie," You told her. You tried to go to sleep but felt a settling unease in your stomach that you couldn't explain. You knew you could never shake off your gut feeling, which was why you couldn't sleep. You couldn't seem to switch off, your brain running at a mile a minute, unable to shake off the unease settling in your stomach. The day had gone too well, considering your dad's reunion with your uncle Tommy had gone to plan, there hadn't been some catastrophic fuck up at all during the day, somehow unsettling you. Then came a thud from the front door. Quietly, you crept down the hallway towards the door, your body and breath shaking with each step you took. Another thud. This time, you didn't know if it was coming from the door or your heart thumping in your chest.

Thud.

Crash.

Before you had any time to think, a runner came launching through where the door once stood on its hinges, then sprinting towards you. You screamed out for your dad before being body slammed to the ground by the runner, trying your best to fend it off and protect yourself from being bitten.

"Dad!" You screamed out, fear evidently clear in your voice. Joel woke up at your screaming, immediately reaching for his gun as he ran out of bed and to the room that you and Ellie were sharing, where the aforementioned girl lay sound asleep. Running down the stairs, Joel found you fighting for your life. Without hesitation, Joel fired two shots into the back of the runner’s head. You quickly shoved the body off of you and scrambled to your feet, running to your dad and wrapping your arms around him. Joel let out a sigh of relief as he held you.

"It's okay, look at me, Y/N," Joel demanded softly. You met your father’s worried eyes with your tear-clouded ones. "Did it bite you?" He asked you, in a serious, yet comforting tone. You shook your head in response, rubbing your eyes of tears. It went quiet for a minute, only for it to be replaced by that terrifying clicking sound. More gunshots went off. Bang. Bang. It didn't matter how many times you experienced a hoard of infected, the fallout never ceased to terrify you. Joel knew that, feeling that your breathing had become quick and shallow. "Okay, go and get Ellie, we need to get out of here, okay?" Joel had both hands on your shoulders, looking you in the eyes. This was when he remembered that you deep down, were still a scared little girl.

"Okay," You said quietly, your voice trembling as you looked out of the front door, more gunshots ringing off in the distance. You went back upstairs to wake Ellie up, giving her a gentle shake at first. "Ellie come on, we need to go," You told her. She groaned in response, turning to her other side. "Ellie, I'm being serious. There are runners everywhere." Suddenly, the girl found the energy to get out of bed, quickly jumping into her shoes and slinging her red zipper on. You both ran down the stairs and out of the house, into the open air where herds of the infected runners overtook the commune. You looked around frantically for your dad or uncle Tommy, sighing in defeat when you found neither, deciding to quickly grab Ellie's hand and make a run for one of the trucks you could both take refuge in until it blew over. However, on yours and Ellie's beeline to the row of trucks, you heard one last gunshot ring out.

You stopped dead in your tracks. Everything had gone silent, but then it all came back, the blood rushing to your ears, Ellie yelling out for your dad, your dad calling out your name. You didn't know why, had something happened? Was there something behind you? And then you realized, the blissful unawareness of the gaping hole in your stomach dissipated, and was now replaced with excruciating pain.

"Joel!" Ellie cried out, her eyes filling with tears as she watched you collapse onto your back, hyperventilating as you clutched at your bloodied stomach. "Hurry!" She cried panickily, kneeling beside you. Joel came running over, skidding onto his knees beside you.

No, no, no! Sh-sh-sh-sh, okay, you're okay. Y-You're okay, move your hand, baby. Move your hand.

Memories of your sister’s death came flooding back to him, only it was you in the exact same position, 20 years later.

"Y/N, hey, come on, it's okay, look at me," Joel said loudly over your hyperventilating. "I need to pick you up baby, you're gonna be okay," He promised you, putting his arms under you, wincing as you cried out in pain.

I know, baby, I know, I know, I know, I know! I know it hurts. All right. Don't look down, look up, look up. Come on, baby. You're okay, you're okay…

You continued crying in pain as Joel ran back to the house, carrying you in his now blood-soaked shirt. You'd gone pale, shaking as you grasped at your dad's shirt. Tommy followed in suit as you were taken back to the house that the three of you had been allowed to stay in for the night before continuing your trail to finding the fireflies. Tommy swiped everything off of the table so Joel could lay you down on it. The commune's doctor came in with a first aid kit, rushing over to you.

"I need everyone out," She said, looking at your dad, Tommy, and Ellie. Joel wanted to scream at her. No. He wouldn't leave you alone. "Now, please, or she's going to die." The three had never left a room so quickly, but for Joel, everything was going in slow motion.

"I know, I know, I know, I know, baby. I know, I know! I know this hurts. You're gonna be okay. All right… Baby, baby, baby, listen to me—I gotta get you up, okay? I gotta get you up. All right? You c'mon. You c'mon."

You grabbed his arm the same way that she did - as if it were the only thing keeping you alive at that very moment. Joel sat down on the stairs, dropping his head into his hands, leaving Tommy and Ellie clueless about what to do. Tommy knew what Joel was thinking, he still remembered the night of the outbreak, remembered holding you, only 2 years old at the time - 4 days shy of your 3rd birthday - as your sister slowly died in your father’s arms.

She continually gasped, both for air and in pain as Joel tried to pick her up.

"I know, baby! No, no. I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know! Tommy, help me!"

Tommy watched on helplessly, holding an increasingly distressed you. Although you weren't quite old enough to comprehend what was going on, you knew it wasn't good - You could hear your sister crying and gasping, but Tommy held you chest to chest, you didn't need to see what was going on.

"Joel," Tommy said tearfully, looking over at his oldest brother and oldest niece, who now lay limp in her father’s arms. Joel looked back to his oldest daughter.

"C'mon, baby girl. C'mon, baby girl, I gotta get you up. C'mon! C'mon, we'll get up! C'mon, baby girl, wake up! C'mon… come—please," Joel gave up begging, collapsing to his knees in tears. Tommy put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, and it was then that Joel realized how distressed you were. "Give her here," Joel sniffled, rubbing his eyes and nose as he held his arms out for you. He held you close as you continued sobbing.

"Daddy," You cried, clinging to your father as though he was your lifeline. He put his hand on your back, trying not to let the tears in his eyes spill over as he rubbed your back.

"It's okay baby girl, daddy's here, I've got you," He assured you, sensing your fear. "It's all gonna be okay baby girl, I promise." Joel didn't know who he was assuring, him or yourself.

The tension was thick was the commune nurse came out of the dining room, coated in a layer of your blood. She made eye contact with Joel, remorse written on her face.

Oh, no.

You had ended up staying longer in Wyoming than the three of you had hoped for, but there was no way it could have been prevented, given that you had been put on ordered bedrest for at least 3 days, but Joel had made you do 4 - Just in case, he had said. Ellie had been more clingy with you than usual, which had reminded you that despite how hardened she liked to act, that she was still only a child who had been unfortunate enough to be born into this world.

You knew the night had been traumatic for your dad, resurfacing painful memories of Sarah's death, you didn't know if your dad would have recovered if he would have lost you in the same way he had lost her. Joel sighed as he watched you limp into the kitchen, holding your stomach as you did.

"Good morning," You said quietly, hobbling over to the chair so you could sit down. Joel shook his head at you and handed you a glass of water, and your last antibiotic. "Thanks." You popped the pill into your mouth and took a swig of water, then swallowing both.

"You're supposed to be in bed," He gently scolded you. "Another day resting won't kill you." He said. You sighed and shook your head, you knew why he was being like this, he just didn't want to lose you, he had already lost so much to this apocalypse.

"Dad, I'm fine, honestly," You assured him, looking up at him as he leaned against the kitchen counter. "Just still a bit sore." You said, rubbing your stomach as you moved. You had to be careful of how you moved, just in case you tore your stitches.

"Please go back to bed, baby," Joel pleaded with you. You knew he wouldn't relent in trying to get you back onto bed rest, you sighed in defeat and nodded. "Thank you, do you need me to carry you up the stairs?" He asked you. You blushed in embarrassment as you nodded - what 23-year-old still needed her dad to carry her to bed? Well, obviously you did since your large intestine had a slight tear in it. You whimpered slightly as he picked you up, and you saw the guilt immediately flood onto your dad’s face.

"'M fine," You mumbled, holding onto him as he carried you up to his bed. You didn't question it, but accepted it for you were in need of some comfort, and if sleeping in your dad’s bed gave you it, then so be it. You saw an amused smile on his face as you looked up at him, quirking a brow in confusion. “What?”                                                                                                                               "What's' Forrest Gump's password?" He asked you, a small smile on his face.

"Huh?" You asked, confused at who this Forrest Gump character was.

"1Forrest1," He finished. Then you realized - Ellie's jokebook, and how he used to tell you dad jokes when you were sad to try and cheer you up. You giggled at the joke as you looked at your dad. "You have no clue who that is, do you?" Joel asked you, laughing as you did.

"Not one at all, old man."

[chaoticbardlady99]

Yesterday I Felt like Dancing (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Synopsis: You have burnt both ends of the candle and haven’t been taking care of your mental health. Unable to get yourself out of bed, Astarion begins to worry about you…

Author note- I have been hardcore struggling with my mental health lately and writing my silly little fics has been the only thing pulling me along. I thought it might be therapeutic to write about my current feelings (I have ADHD, MDD, and GAD so it’s a party up in here). I hope you enjoy!

CW- Suicidal Ideation, symptoms of depression, brief outburst, mentions of mental health diagnosis and poor medical advice.

Title inspired by song “Into the Walls” by Griff.

*not my pic, could not tell you where I found it so I apologize in advance. If you think it might be your picture, please message me so I can give proper credit.

Your last day before backtracking from the Mountain Pass to the Goblin camp is a difficult one.

Not for the group as a whole- just you specifically.

Days before a Mindflayer kidnapped you, a healer back home had told you your brain was sick. You had been devastated- resigned to your miserable fate.

You had been struggling for years at that point with inconsistent motivation, exhaustion, nightmares, and irrational thoughts for months. You have been functional for the most part, but then an overpowering wave will hit you like Warhammer in the ribs and you are rendered useless until it passes.

The healer suggested sunlight, exercise, eating healthy, and spending time with friends to help your affliction when you hit rock bottom. You were wildly unimpressed with her. At the time, you preferred to self isolate so you stayed by yourself in the woods trying to find peace there. You would have to let her know that her “going out and enjoying the sun” message is not always wise- you may get a tadpole shoved in your head. You can’t be that mad though- the tadpole helped bring your pep back.

Anyway, you have been doing all of that for weeks now, you even felt great, but today? You could not have hit rock bottom harder even if you tried.

You woke up that morning unable to get yourself out of bed. It was a rest day so it wasn’t a big deal, but you also know that your companions are going to have things they need to talk to you about and favors they need you to take care of.

Gods you had tried to get up. You are grateful that your past self had the gumption to wash off and change into clean clothes last night, but your armor is still disgustingly sitting outside your tent and your hair is long and wild. You had wanted to braid it, but it all felt like too much work.

Everything feels like too much work right now- even staying awake- so you drift in and out of uncomfortable naps throughout the morning. No matter how many times you fall asleep, begging for relief from the painful brick wall sitting on your brain, it never leaves.

You can feel the midday breeze rustle your tent. You’ve been laying here for hours now. You are crying and you honestly aren’t sure why. You feel completely paralyzed by all the things you need to do to be ready for the Underdark.

You need to clean your armor, go over the Goblin Camp’s map with Wyll, find Gale a magical artifact, and probably comfort Lae’zel since she’s been branded a heretic- but you won’t. The shame and self loathing continues. You are a silly, worthless little human being.

Every person who knocks on your tent gets a simple, “I’m just not feeling well,” and then they walk away. You don’t know why it makes you more sad than appreciative. If you were in their shoes- you would be bending over backwards to make sure they had everything they needed and you wouldn’t let them feel alone. Then you resent yourself for feeling that way towards your companions- they don’t owe you anything and you were the one who chose to help them- you didn’t ask for anything in return. This is all your fault.

The only person who hadn’t come to visit you was Astarion- which hurt your heart just a little, enough that the numbness coursing thickly through your body wavered for a moment. You are quite smitten and he is obviously not. Another mistake to add to the swirling black hole your mind has fallen into.

You knew it was stupid to want his comfort and affections- you had merely slept together a little less than a week ago. Astarion has been quasi avoiding you ever since and when he does talk to you- he’s awkward. You constantly look for flying pigs- Astarion feeling awkward or being awkward is unheard of.

You have come to accept that you were just some tryst and obviously he hadn’t enjoyed it as much as he said he did.

Astarion isn’t to blame and the situation itself certainly didn’t contribute to the sudden lack of emotions. You knew that you were on the verge of a mental collapse sooner rather than later, but you had foolishly hoped you wouldn’t be alone through it. It feels less all consuming when you try to find a reason. It’s more comfortable to know than it is to give up and say, “my brain is fucked and there isn’t a damn thing I can do so I guess I’m stuck here.”

You are jolted out of your thoughts by another knock on your tent.

“I’m sick,” you say flatly.

“Ha- you act like that will deter me. I can’t even get sick, Darling.”

Before you even have time to register that Astarion is on the other side of your tent- he pushes his way through the flaps and stares down at you in confusion. And… concern?

Astarion steps inside and kneels down next to you- scanning you for evidence of illness or injury.

“I suppose I had been worried for nothing,” he smiles sweetly at you, “you are totally fine. Come on Darling, you have to get up and eat. Wyll is fumbling with that map.”

You look at him and begin to cry. Astarion’s face lights up with alarm.

“What- what did I do!?”

“Please don’t make me,” you sob, “I just want a break. I’m so tired. I want to lay in this bed forever and never leave, but there is so much to do and it’s paralyzing.”

You continue to cry and you cover yourself with the extra blanket- successfully hiding your face.

“Go away,” you whisper, “I need to be left alone.”

You say it, but you are far from meaning it. You want him to stay- to hold you- but he doesn’t want you so it will only make everything hurt worse once the numbness fades away.

You wait for several moments and then you hear him leave. Your silent cry turns into choked sobs and your body is shaking from the pain you are in. The numbness hurts. The numbness tells you that you shouldn’t be alive.

Maybe you shouldn’t be.

Everyone here would be able to figure it out on their own (eventually) and you would finally be free. Free of your uncomfortable brain, free of your ugly body- free of the expectations of others. You would no longer be holding them back like you are today- like you will again in the future.

You are sure they would temporarily grieve you, but that was the deal with this whole journey. You had all accepted that one of you or all of you could die at any moment. You will just put them in more danger by being here…

You shake the thought from your head, violently- your head is pounding from the growing tension headache and dehydration. The tears eventually stop and you just… well, lay in bed again. You stare blankly at a book over in the corner. You keep trying to convince yourself to get up and read the damn thing- do literally ANYTHING else than just stay here in your bedroll.

Instead, you fall asleep.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wake up to someone knocking on your tent post. You grumble incoherently, covering your head and you hear your unexpected guest sit down next to you. The smell of food fills the tent and your stomach grumbles.

“You need to eat, my Dear,” Astarion says softly.

You are stunned to hear his voice grace your ears. You slowly pull the blanket down to just below your eyes and look at him. Astarion looks distressed, like he doesn’t want to be here. Why would he? You’re a nuisance.

You sit up gingerly and grab the bowl from him. You manage to give him a lopsided smile.

“Thanks. You don’t need to stay, I will be fine on my own,” you say apathetically, staring into the broth.

“I want to stay,” he says, “if you’ll have me.”

The expression on his face is unreadable, but he seems genuine. You nod, your lips pressed together tightly. You eat as much as you feel like while Astarion studies you.

Usually your anxiety is at an all time high (in maybe one of the better ways) when you are around Astarion- he gives you butterflies, butterflies, and even more butterflies. Usually your heart is racing in his presence, but right now you just feel empty.

“Where is your hairbrush?” Astarion asks.

You frown with confusion, “it’s in my bag, why?”

Astarion gets up and goes over to the bag- digging out a few items. He pulls out a lantern, your hairbrush, and a hair tie. Astarion comes over to you and sits down behind you. You feel him gather up the stray pieces of your hair and get to work.

Astarion runs his fingers through your scalp and your tangled hair- the feeling is soothing and it opens something inside of you. Your body shakes silently with sobs and you feel the worm behind your eyes wiggle as Astarion asks for access. You aren’t sure.

“I want to understand,” Astarion says, “please.”

His voice is so raw and desperate- you swallow thickly before allowing him to explore your current emotional state. The silence in the tent is palpable and you feel tense, uncomfortable even. No one has ever cared for you while you are in this state before.

You feel him continue his hairbrushing after he exits your mind. Astarion leaves soft kisses on your shoulder as he gently pulls apart every knot. It helps- you realize- to feel cared for. The numbness still hurts, you still hurt, but it’s nice to not feel so alone.

After Astarion is done brushing your hair, you feel his delicate fingers begin to intricately braid your hair. You wonder when he learned how to do hair.

“Leon’s daughter, Victoria, used to ask me to braid her hair all the time,” Astarion says in a bittersweet voice as if reading your mind, “I picked it up so that she would stop bugging me about it. She said and I quote, ‘you have the perfect braiding hands!’”

You smile to yourself tenderly, “That’s very kind of you, Star. I am sure she appreciated it as much as I appreciate it now.”

You feel Astarion’s hands falter at your words and you are unsure if you have upset him or not. A pregnant pause occurs before Astarion finally clears his throat and goes back to braiding your hair.

“I’m glad that I can help,” Astarion’s delicate, vulnerable words hang in the air, “I’ve… been worried about you today.”

You feel positively flustered and bad for making him feel that way.

“Oh you don’t need to worry about silly ole me! This happens sometimes” you make your voice chirpier than it needs to be, “This is actually the longest I’ve gone for a long time without this happening. I have theorized that the tadpole might help which is kinda cool- I think?”

You laugh awkwardly- desperate to ease his worry.

“How often does this happen?”

Shit. That was the winning question wasn’t it? Astarion will surely never see you as anything less than broken now.

“I’m not really sure,” your voice comes out in a whisper, “I usually always feel a bit of it all the time, but it’s manageable. I function very well regardless.”

“But this one isn’t manageable and evidently you aren’t functional right now.”

You sigh, “No, it isn’t and no, I’m not.”

“What changed?”

“Nothing,” you say, maybe too harshly, “that’s the part that drives me crazy. Yesterday was incredible- I was on top of the whole world, felt like dancing and screaming from the rooftops, but today!?”

You inhale and hold back the muted scream that wants to fill the air.

“Today,” you hiss, “I don’t even want to deal with any of this shit anymore. I’m so fucking tired. There is too much to fucking do and too many people depending on me. Then everyone gets irritated with me if I ask to push off their problems so I persevere through it despite knowing I’m getting bad again. I’m a giant stinking trash heap that everyone keeps adding more to.”

Astarion finishes braiding your hair and presses your back to his chest, pulling you into him. He puts his arms around your waist and settles his chin and face in between the crook of your neck.

“I just feel like such a nuisance all the time- no matter how hard I push myself to prove I’m not. Sometimes I think everyone would be better off if I just… went away.”

You both sit there quietly. At some point he had taken one of your hands in his and he was tracing shapes into the back of it with his thumb. Your omission still hangs heavily in the air.

“I wouldn’t be better off,” Astarion says hotly, “I’d be stuck with all these weirdos by myself. That would be truly miserable, Darling.”

You shake your head, a half smile on your face.

“And besides- you are not even close to a nuisance,” Astarion states, leaving a kiss on your cheek, “at least you aren’t in constant need of magical objects to eat or blood to drink. Oh and you don’t require a painstaking amount of searching to prevent you from literally burning everyone alive.

“Oh and did I forget to mention, we have not one, but two women who despise each other and follow hateful Goddesses which was a fun choice for whatever sick bastard twisted our fates this way.”

You laugh breathily, closing your eyes and letting the sound defrost some of your insides.

“What I’m saying is- I think you are the least of everyone’s ‘nuisances’, my Darling,” he says, squeezing you tighter to his chest, “despite how little you think of yourself. We ne- no, I want you to stay. I know everyone else would say the same, but I must emphasize that I would be horribly distraught if you disappeared. Hells I’d even pay to have you resurrected.”

You gasp playfully, your voice falling slightly flat, “You? The most frugal man I have ever met would pay 200 gold coins to ‘Strike thy name from the record’?”

Your impression of Withers gets Astarion to genuinely laugh- the sound vibrating in your chest. You lean into him and he guides you back to laying down. Astarion entangles his legs with yours as he holds you tightly- your faces are mere centimeters apart. You love the way Astarion smells- rosemary, bergamot, and brandy. You wish you could be wrapped up in him forever. You are still in pain- everything still hurts and feels too difficult, but right now it feels a little less heavy.

“I would throw bags of Gold Coins at that corpse out of revenge, my Dear,” he teases, “you couldn’t possibly think I would ever let you rest peacefully in your grave- I would be far too angry with you and unhappy without you to let that happen.”

You lay there and despite yourself, you lean forward and leave butterfly kisses along his cheeks with your lashes. Astarion scrunches up his nose reflexively and smiles at you. You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips.

“Thank you Astarion- for everything.”

You close your eyes as he traces circles along your lower back. Your eyes begin to droop, and you fall asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When you wake up the next morning- you are disappointed to find that you are all alone in your tent. The heavy numbness is still there and you sigh. At least last night made it more bearable.

You look on the side where Astarion had been sleeping and find a note with a bottle attached to it. You pick it up and begin to read.

Tav,

Astarion had asked me about herbs for some relief regarding mental discomforts. I unfortunately don’t know many, but this is a mixture of St. John’s Wort, Valerian Root, and Ashwagandha. Historically, I know these have been used to alleviate emotional and mental pain.

Astarion didn’t tell me why he was asking, but I deduced it was you pretty quickly when he began shooing everyone away from your tent this morning.

I hope this helps- we are all here if you need us. May Silvanus light your path as you navigate this difficult time.

-Halsin

You sit in your own stunned silence for what feels like hours. Halsin knows and he wants to help? Halsin doesn’t think you are screwed or a nuisance? The man barely even knows you!

You are a bit embarrassed, but you can’t help but laugh at the image of Astarion telling everyone to leave you alone.

You open the bottle and a pleasant, earthy smell fills the tent. You drink the mixture (that definitely does not taste anywhere near as pleasant as it smells) and you do feel a slight bit better. Your apathy feels even more tolerable now. You will have to thank Halsin.

You slowly rise from your tent and look around. Everything is packed up neatly in the corner- your clothes from the previous day are folded nicely and you notice all the holes are sewn up.

You jump when someone enters your tent abruptly- the midday sun warming your skin. You turn around and Astarion is smiling at you, but looks nervous.

“I cleaned off your armor and your weapons,” he says awkwardly, scratching the back of his head, “I also packed up your stuff- as you can see. We have to start leaving unfortunately, but I’ll help you get on your armor like I usually do- I might still need help with mine though, but I can ask someone else if it’s too much for you right now. Lae’zel and Karlach offered to pack up your tent. Wyll and Shadowheart figured out the map- Wyll is going to be our ‘fearless’ leader for the day. Gale has some food for you to snack on while we travel- which you will be eating, by the way.”

Astarion is looking at you with a vulnerable expression on his face. He plays nervously with the gold coin in his hands.

You can hardly believe what you are hearing.

“Did- did you do all this for me?” You say with disbelief.

You never thought Astarion was capable of smiling shyly until he had admitted to you that you had been his first thinking creature- you certainly never thought you’d see him become shy twice in your presence.

“I did and it wasn’t a nuisance so don’t even begin to worry about that,” He walks over to you, gently cradling your face in his hands, “I hope this is all okay.”

You smile- the first genuine feeling of happiness you’ve felt in the last 24 hours gently sparks in your chest as you stare up at him. You get up on your tiptoes and bridge the gap between your lips.

“Thank you Astarion, this is perfect- you are perfect,” you are crying tears of joy, “this is the kindest gesture anyone has ever made for me. So just, thank you.”

“Of course, Darling,” he says smiling in between kisses, “I won’t let you lose to yourself. We’ll get through this together from now on- no more hiding.”

And for once? You actually believe someone.

-if you guys like this, please let me know if you would want a part two written from Astarion’s perspective.

Update- I did the thing you silly geese

https://www.tumblr.com/chaoticbardlady99/735969926279528448/i-took-all-this-love-i-found-and-i-hope-that-its

Tag-list: @spacebarbarianweird @domainoflostsouls

[non-stop-imagines]

Ok I'm not the nonnie that just asked that question, but I can 100% imagine Lance and Oscar being in a poly. And it's perfect cause they never cross paths it seems like. So a SMAU where the reader (Marsai Martin) comes to the paddock for a visit and everyone is just like wtf?! How did yall pull her?!

You have no idea how crazyy brain went when I got this. And then I almost immediately began working on it...and then I was unable to edit ask responses on my phone for almost a month and a half 😔. Also I absolutely did not mean to do this but my brain read it "Lando and Oscar" and I completely missed that it said "Lance and Oscar" and now I feel terrible but I hope you like it still! 😬😚

(A/n: Also I know I said Charles was next, but I was so excited I could finally edit this post I had to go and finish it. I have been working on my Charles fic though I promise 💖)

~~~~~♥~~~~~~

user_yn

Liked by landonorris and 492,807 others

user_yn Thank you Japan for giving my loves a double podium (and the epic celebration after) 🧡🇯🇵

View all 273 comments

user1 They are so wholesome it gave me clear skin

landonorris So happy our pretty girl got to see us (almost) win 😚

>user_yn And I'm very proud of your (almost) win ☺️

>oscarpiastri It was your beauty radiating from the garage that helped us stay in the top 3

liked by user_yn

>mclaren We agree 👍

user2 Exhibit B of how Yn is their good luck charm

>user3 Yes, but elaborate 🧐

>user2 The last race she was at was Silverstone, when they basically told the rest of the grid "Sike, here's our real car" and now double podium

>landonorris We've been trying to tell @/user_yn, right @/oscarpiastri?

>oscarpiastri If she listened to us, forgot about acting and just came to all the races, we'd be World Champions by now🤷‍♂️

>user_yn Os, baby, don't let Lando drag you down with him

landonorris

Liked by Oscar Piastri

landonorris Had to get that double podium for our lovely lady 😍 🏆(Also Note to Self: Never leave your phone alone with @/user_yn)

View 259 comments

user_yn The real note to self should be "post better pictures of Yn instead of whatever photo you have of her sleeping"

>landonorris But you're so pretty when you sleep 👉🏻👈🏻😚

>user_yn As sweet as that is, don't 🫵🏿

user8 Still accepting theories of how those two even met Yn

>user9 The configuration of the stars the night they met was the same as when the upgrades for Silverstone were finished. That was the most luck those two have every experienced int their lives and they will probably not have such luck again until it is time for their own respective grand prix race wins

>user8 Yes.

oscarpiastri Baby 🧡

>landonorris Couldn't be more proud of you 🧡

>user_yn And I'm the proudest of both of you 🧡

>user4 These 3 deserve each other and I mean that in the purest way possible

>mclaren we just want to join on the orange hearts (even though we love them too)🧡

user5 We stan Bert, Ernie, and their impossibly hot girlfriend

>landonorris Please tell me I'm Ernie 🤞🏻

>user5 Man do I have a treat for you

oscarpiastri

Liked by logansargeant and 193,703 others

oscarpiastri Had to place 2 and 3 because she's our #1 😊

View all 178 comments

user6 Logan's here, we can finally start the festivities

logansargeant @/user_yn is the really Japanese gp winner

>user_yn No don't talk to me you ignored me most of the weekend 😔

>logansargeant I JUST COULDN'T SEE YOU YOU'RE SHORT

>user_yn All I'm hearing are excuses 🙄

user_yn Such a cutie 🥰 So so proud of my boyfriends 💖

>user_yn (I swear if you don't smile with your teeth more often I'm telling your mom.)

>oscarpiastri Yes ma'am (Love you, don't tell my mom ♥️)

>landonorris THANK YOU I've been trying to tell him he has a pretty smile

user7 Yn, the fashion icon ✨

>user_yn It's the hat 🤠

One last thought: Hopefully this is the start of a spark of inspiration because I would love for the ideas I have for all of these requests to LEAVE MY HEAD AND WRITE THEMSELVES OUT ON THESE POSTS!! Anyway, I hope you all liked this and you're all doing well. 😊

[midnight-vixn]

Satan pushing you against the window next to his bed, pounding into you from behind. You're wearing this collar he loves, one hand tugging at your hair, the other playing with your sex or wrapped around your waist to hold you in place. Kissing, biting, sucking on your neck and shoulder and whispering praises into your ear. Fucking you hard and rough, making you moan and cry out his name each time you cum on his cock.

Eventually Lucifer, who's currently discussing sth with Dia and Barb in the backyard below the window, will notice Satan's little show and he'll give in to the urge to fill you up with his cum.

Lucifer/Satan threesome when👀 ANYWAY this made me feel things, anon you have such a big brain I’m smooching you for this. Happy Birthday Satan, glad to see some thirst for him💖 (should I do part 2??)

Gn!reader x Satan, Lucifer (separately)

“S-sa-satan, puh-lease!” You whine. Your chest pressed against the cold glass yet your whole body feels on fire, legs spread apart as Satan toys with your sex, the bell on your collar jingling with every thrust he gives you.

“Please, what?” Satan’s voice barely audible, his warm breath fanning against your back as he presses his head against your shoulder. He’s mesmerized watching his cock disappear inside you, lost in the feeling of you clenching around him each time he thrusts deep enough to hit your sweet spot.

“ ‘S too good, gonna—” you cut yourself off with a euphoric moan as your fourth orgasm of the afternoon runs through you. Your knees are weak and unable to hold you up anymore, your body is solely supported by Satan’s one arm wrapped around your waist to hold you in place and the window in front of you that looks over the back garden.

Your mind had melted somewhere between orgasm two and three but Satan was still taking his sweet time. You had to give him credit, the fourth born may be a hopeless romantic who much prefers love making to animalistic sex but fuck did he know how to hit every single spot and pull orgasm after orgasm from you.

You let yourself go limp, knowing the demon behind you was more than happy to have full control, and glanced out to the garden below. Panic set in.

“Satan.” His name coming out slurred thanks to your fucked out state.

“Feels good doesn’t it my love?” He closes his eyes and buries his cock further in you, rutting against your ass in a shameless way. He may be a romantic but he still has his carnal desires.

“Satan, s-stop.” You pleaded, trying to get him to pause for one minute to see what you saw. Down in the garden below, sat three figures having a nice chat it seemed. Two bodies with their backs toward you- luckily- and a third facing your direction with a full view of your naked body if he so happened to glance up.

Your eyes were watery and pretty hazy at this point but from size, posture, and who was sitting across from them you knew it was Diavolo and Barbatos sitting with their backs to you. Across from them in deep conversation was Lucifer. How long had they been out there? How had he not seen you yet? Satan had been fucking you against this window for an hour now and your moans and cries of pleasure were anything but silent.

Maybe it was the way Satan’s cock continued to graze against your walls but you suddenly found yourself aroused at the thought of being seen. The high and mighty Prince and his oh so loyal butler seeing you so vulnerable and exposed, you wondered just how Diavolo would react to seeing his precious exchange student being railed by a demon lord. You subconsciously start moaning at the thought, Satan biting down on your shoulder encouraged by the noises you make. You peer down once more in greed, only to be met with a pair of crimson eyes glaring up at you. “FUCK!”

“What?! Did I hurt you?” Your sudden outburst pulls Satan out of his lust filled haze. He looks up and turns your face gently toward his, wanting to know where he hurt you, but your eyes are fixated on something outside. The desire they once held was now void and in its place is a look of fear, concerned about what could have possibly upset his precious doll Satan looks out into the garden.

His eyes meet the icy gaze of the first born, a wicked grin forms on Satan’s lips and you feel his grip around your waist tighten. He rests his chin on your shoulder, you feel something wrap around your thigh and realize it’s his tail, you feel his cock twitch and grow inside you, spreading you even wider than before. Satan has only fucked you twice in his demon form before, he tends to restrain himself out of fear for your safety— clearly that’s left his mind right now.

“Tell me if I hurt you my love.” He whispers sensually, eyes still locked onto your new audience member. Without any prep or warning Satan begins to fuck into you ruthlessly, you always forget the added texture and girth his cock gets when he switches to this form. You suddenly feel incredibly full, he slides in and out of you with ease thanks to your cum that coats his shaft, you let out a scream of pure pleasure. Your mind goes completely blank and the only thing you can think of is him, the only words you can form are his name, chanting, screaming and moaning it as he thrusts into you. The bell on your collar ringing wildly, a sound that solidifies his ownership of you. “That’s right baby, tell him who you belong to.”

You glance down briefly and see Lucifer flinch in his seat, hands grabbing at the arm rests of his chair and brows furrowing in anger. Diavolo and Barbatos must have seen it as well as they attempt to turn and see what has him so upset, you feel your heart skip a beat but luckily Lucifer grabs their attention back. You’re impressed with how calm Lucifer is being, knowing that he can see every inch of your body pressed against this glass, knowing he can see Satan’s hand still making quick work of your sex, knowing that he can see Satan’s face now sucking on your neck while your mouth hangs open as you moan. You’re well aware Lucifer can read lips, so you know he’s able to see you calling Satan’s name over and over. You know he’s pissed.

Satan begins to pick up speed and your eyes fill with tears again. The last thing you fully see is the three demons below exiting the garden through the back gate, Lucifer’s suggestion no doubt.

“Too bad, guess he’ll miss the finale.” Satan growls in your ear. Squeezing your chest with one hand and gripping your jaw with the other, Satan pressed you against the glass harder. “Cum with me my love.”

Your shared moans and cries of ecstasy echo throughout the room, you cum around him once more and feel him pump you full of his seed. Your body is completely weak at this point, the fourth born carries you to the bed and lays you down gently, the two of you dozing off rather quickly.

You wake up a few hours later feeling ravenous, that’s what you get for missing lunch. You dress yourself quietly and decide to go search for food, doing your best not to wake the still sleeping demon. You place a kiss on Satan’s cheek and head out into the hall, halfway to the kitchen you suddenly feel a hand on your arm and are dragged into a nearby room. Your back is pinned against the wall, two large hands are planted firmly on either side of your head, a rather thick thigh is pressed between your legs, the lights are dim and you can’t make out much of anything, but that cologne lets you know everything.

“I’m glad I could attend your little show earlier.” His deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. You can’t see his face but you know he’s looking at you the same way a hunter does it’s prey. You feel his gloved hand gently tilt your chin up, his lips brush against yours lightly. “Now, why don’t you give me a private encore?”

[for-a-longlongtime]

So. I accidentally ended up writing a Frankie x Santiago x reader fic...

I say 'accidentally' because I was all in on writing my Javi P x Tim Rockford fic (which is still happening!), then wanted to write a short drabble for @legendary-pink-dot's birthday - and that's how things quickly escalated. Oops.

Shouldn't be surprised though considering Frankie and Santi are, hands down, my absolute fave pairing.

Right now it's looking like the final wordcount will be near 20K words, so I'm thinking I should break this up into two parts. Also because it's been taking over my entire brain and life living in my head and Google docs for 3 weeks already, and I'm overthinking everything because ngl I'm pretty nervous about posting my first fic. So, endulge me if you don't mind...

FYI, @morallyinept is currently feedbacking the first part - she is an absolute GEM! And I have to give massive props to @sin-djarin @magpiepills @imalrightllama @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin in particular who have been so damn encouraging and patient as I've been constantly running tidbits past them for the past weeks.

Whoever catches the reference in the title wins a cookie, btw.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Nothing That I Didn't Know (teaser)

Frankie watches you across the crowded bar, standing close to Pope as you’re talking while waiting for drinks. Something tickles in the back of his neck, raising the little hairs there, then all over his arms and everywhere else, like he’s been zapped by a little bolt of electricity. He knows he’s had plenty of tequila - probably more than enough for the rest of the night - but still he can’t help but reach for another shot, unable to tear his eyes away from what’s happening in front of him.

The liquor burns deliciously in his chest as it goes down smoothly, sinking into the rest of his body; undoing and releasing way too many safety clips that normally stay bolted down, and he has to work hard to not reach for another shot. Fuck, his head is loud. Much too loud.

Had been that way already earlier, at the beginning of the night, as he’d watched you and Pope at the bar getting shots for the table. Messing around with each other, and he’d smirked when he saw you triumphantly snag away the shot in front of him - you two were always at it. But then the tone had changed, and he knew it was happening before you seemed to register it - he recognized that look on Santiago’s face.

The set of his mouth, the way his chin would tilt up slightly, the little telltale signs right before he attacked. Watched as he’d suddenly grabbed you, sharply pulling your arms behind you as he shoved you against the bar with his body, and Frankie could feel his mind and body immediately responding in a diametrically opposed manner - his brain in loud protest, the "what the fuck, Pope" right at the tip of his tongue even though he was much too far away to even be heard - immediately protective of you. But his body betrayed him, blood suddenly rushing away from his brain as his cock stirred, immediately painfully trapped against the denim of his jeans. Fuck. Fuuuck.

He saw Santi say something against your ear as you struggled, and the roar in his head was suddenly deafening in a way that made him uncomfortable - there was the instant urge to go stop it, pull Santi off you and ask what the fuck he thought that he was doing. But the other part of him, the one that throbbed in his jeans, didn’t even want to consider interrupting this - just wanted to drink in what was happening, what was next, wanting to know how you felt being pressed against the bar by him like that. Wanted Santi to press him against the bar like that.

He swallowed heavily when the realization of that last thought fully hit him, a hot mix of guilt and desire at the same time, then felt the wave of anger that rolled right after it. It didn’t matter whether it was hot to see - Santi had no right to touch you like that. YOU, you had no right to push back against him like that, even if it was just to struggle and break free, as you ended up pressed even closer against Santi’s front - clearly though inadvertently positioned right against his dick.

Don’t touch her. She’s–

Don’t touch HIM.

Mine.

Mine.

Mine mine mine.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Tagging a bunch of you who might be interested in this (or is it tacky to do that when it's your own work? I don't know, man. Like I said, I'm really good at overthinking shit): @linzels-blog @goodwithcheese @maggiemayhemnj @rhoorl @goodwithcheese @undercoverpena @secretelephanttattoo @musings-of-a-rose @trulybetty @rifflovesjoey @avastrasposts @gemmahale @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @nerdieforpedro @ladybess-a03 @prolix-yuy @whatsnewalycat @ezrasbirdie @thewreckening @marisferasiop @perotovar @max--phillips @wannab-urs @idolatrybarbie @inept-the-magnificent @gasolinerainbowpuddles @alwaysmicado @romanarose @chronically-ghosted @alltheglitterandtheroar @boliv-jenta @covetyou @5oh5 @reallyrallyauthor @radiowallet @writefightandflightclub @exquisiteserotonin @pink-whiskey-woman @anavatazes @youandmeand5bucks @arcanefox207 @fettuccin-e @ghostofaboy @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

Want me to tag you when the first part drops? Leave a comment or rb and I'll add you to the taglist!

[bruciemilf]

brain go brrrrRRR buuut... BRUCE being forgotten on the day of his birth <33

Bruce tired from patrol, sore and aching forgetting HIS own day because he has been used to never celebrating it until his children show up.

Granted, Alfred has tried before. Greeting him on the occassion but never pushing, too scared that one day the flighty bat would break once again and he is left with oueces he can't fix.

But anyway, the kids celebrate for him in little ways when they were young. Maybe treats with dick, reading with jason, info dump with tim, art with damian (dami says he sucks btw but is glad for the activity), steph conjures a waffle contest (she wins), just yea spending time as a birthday present is enough just for him and the greetings "Happy Birthday B" or "Your birth old man" even the silent approach of cass's kiss on the cheek. So, he never forgot his day.

Yet lately, everything has been his fault. His relationship with the kids are strained. Everyone else is out of town or offworld or busy for days, weeks or months. Then his day comes, no greeting just a ping on his phone calendar. BIRTHDAY it said, knowing no ither notification will settle on his screen.

So he sits in the cave. Tired and aching, not unusual but the hollow ache of his soul hits him harder than the rough patrol. He finds himself alone, for the first time in a while and he accepts it. Welcomes the dark of his mind telling him what he always secretly believed in growing up from the boy in the alley to a man in a suit.

" YOU make yourself lonely B, WE deserve it but it's okay. Gotham needs the bat more than anyone will ever need YOU."

It aches but it's okay. Everyone forgot, they should eventually. Unable to sleep off the ache of the last minutes of his day he goes back to the grave and it's been so long since he'd done this but-

"Happy birthday" he sings, quiet and low to mama and dad and leaves quiet and empty parting with the words he thought he had long forgotten before-

"just- just another year, so please take me home soon"

*** ANYWAY i needed to brainrot because bruce having thoughts of awe that he lived past the age he thought that it would be the end feels so good, thank ü 😔

When Bruce steps back in the manor, he almost jumps out of his skin.

Jason's much bigger than him now, but he still jumps in Bruce's arms, mirroring his 10 year old self. "Finally! Thought you'd never come back."

Bruce blinks, "Wha..."

Alfred tuts. " Come now, sir. We mustn't let Master Grayson's baking go to waste."

"It's cake mix from Batmart, Baba. I'd rather eat a corpse."

"Come on, Damian! How would you feel if I told B you've been bringing stray cats home for a week?"

"They're my birthday gift. Baba and I will find them good homes, like this one." And bruce just wants to cry. He does. In Jason's shoulder. Even if Jay tells him only suckers cry (he cries in Bruce's shoulder, too)

[nana-mania]

“SPOILED” he loves being spoiled by his rich girlfriend

╰┈➤: ̗̀➛ oneshot

࿐*ೃ feat : izana kurokawa

࿐*ೃ fandom : tokyo revengers

࿐*ೃ extra : fem! reader, fluff

࿐*ೃ tw : cursing

╰┈➤: ̗̀➛ "IS IT JUST me or has Izana been acting odd lately?"

Kakucho spoke up, breaking the silence between him and the Brutal Generation, as well as the executives of Tenjiku. He was unable to contain his curiosity much longer. He pondered in his mind all the time; whether the others noticed this subtle change in Izana.

"Izana has always been unhinged, Kakucho. Since when he's not acting odd?" Ran casually remarked, finding his question strange. "You know him personally much more than we do. Surely, we can't give you any answers even if you demand one from us." Rindou added.

"What's so odd about Izana anyway?" Shion asked, his brain still trying its hardest to discern the meaning behind Kakucho's inquiry. "If you are talking about how he has been hanging out a lot on his own, I personally don't think it's strange." Kanji stated whilst he munched on a mochi.

"You know him. He doesn't like it when we question his actions." Muto advised, patting the younger male's broad back to reassure him. "I know, but...ahh, there is just something off about him. I can't get it out of my mind unless I figure it out." Kakucho argued, persistently staying true to himself.

"My gut feeling is too strong for me to ignore it... Alright, that's it. I'm going out to check on Izana. He went out to the city again today. You guys wanna tag along?" Kakucho offered invitation to the rest of the executives. Shion, Kanji and Muto were unsure. They didn't want to dig their own grave.

But the two Haitanis thought otherwise. They were thrilled by the idea of spying on Izana during his casual stroll in the city. They might discover something unbelievable.

"We are coming along~" Ran agreed to Kakucho's invitation, his hand resting on top of Rindou's head. Rindou wore a wide grin on his face, excited by the adventure they were about to experience. It could be a death wish but who cares! Life wasn't fun without taking risk.

Seeing two of them agreeing to this maniacal, suicide-borderline plan, Kanji, Shion and Muto sighed defeatedly and eventually agreed to Kakucho as well. Delighted by their cooperation, he smiled at the older males happily.

"Alright, let's go now!"

Meanwhile, in the city, Izana was strolling in a clothing store with you, browsing the various clothes and shoes sold in the store in complete silence. There was no way he would want to buy them as most the stuffs he wanted was overpriced.

His amethyst-hued eyes suddenly landed on a pair of shoes. He stared long at the said shoes, as if he was attracted to them. He was unaware of how long he was fixing his gaze at the footwear. Noticing his behavior, you smiled at him and picked up the shoes he secretly wished to have.

Shocked by your action, Izana looked at you in disbelief. "No, not again." He opposed your idea. He knew you too well; you were planning to buy the shoes for him. But you shook your head and brought the shoes along as you and your boyfriend made your way to the store clerk.

"Yes, again. I told you, just buy anything you want. I can pay for the goods."

"You're always spoiling me."

"And I love doing that. Especially spoiling you."

Izan smiled softly at you, his one and only girlfriend. To be honest, he didn't know you were from a wealthy family until he went on a first date with you. It was astonishing to figure out this interesting fact about you.

Izana reached out his hand and held your hand warmly. "That's why I love you so much, mahal." He whispered seductively into your ear, tightening his hold on your hand. Your cheeks heated up upon hearing his attractive voice. God, you always had a thing for voice. Hearing a sexy voice like his made you weak in the knees. "I love you too, sweetie."

You paid for the shoes much to Izana's happiness. He never, never even once asked you to spoil him with your wealth. You willingly did it for him and he appreciated it so much. Even though he couldn't buy any expensive gifts like you did, you adored every single thing he did or give to you as presents.

You weren't a picky and judgmental girl.

"So, where should we go now?"

"Mahal, I'm hungry. Can we stop by KFC?"

"Sure! And you better keep your wallet in your pocket. Today's date is on me."

"But..."

"No buts. I invited you to the date so I have the rights to spoil you."

Izana chuckled while rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. You were persistently stubborn when it came to this topic. It was no surprise to know you hated being the spoiled one during date. Only on rare occasion, you would let him pay during the date.

"If you say so, mahal." Izana leaned in to kiss your forehead. Your face went ablaze, delighted by his soft kiss. That was right, this was what you wanted. Receiving rewards in the form of physical touched everytime you spoiled him. Izana was the best when it came to showing love through physical touch.

Hooking your arm with his, you and Izana walked out of the clothing store as he flirted with you, effortlessly causing warmth to spread across your cheeks.

"After this...wanna come over to my place to chill, mahal?" Izana whispered flirtatiously into your ear. You could practically hear the smirk in his teasing voice as his arm found its way to snake around your waist. "I love to reward you for all the treats and spoiling...you deserve so much from me."

"Eager much, aren't you? I'm always up for it. I love to be spoiled by you later."

"Thought you hated being coddled by me, mahal."

"Your "spoiling" is different and that's why I love it."

The warmth in your cheeks kept rising up. You could never stop flirting with Izana when he started making his move. He would continue whispering sweet nothings until you overheated.

Unbeknownst to the couple, a group of curious delinquents were spying on them with the youngest having his jaw dropped to the ground in disbelief.

"I-Izana...since when did he— has a partner?" Kakucho gasped, his mouth agape wide open. Shion, Muto, Kanji, Ran and Rindou were left speechless as well. Izana, never once, showed the slightest bit interest in relationship considering that man hated "troublesome burden". Hence, seeing him all sweet with a girl was a miracle. This fact might take a while to be embedded into their brain.

"Let's go follow them. I need to confirm again—"

Much to Kakucho's misfortune, Rindou unintentionally slipped and brutally pushed Kakucho out of their hiding spot. Due to panic, all of them left the alleyway to help Kakucho and Rindou to get back on their feet.

Of course, this led to their downfall.

Thanked to the chaos, Izana and you were drawn to take a look. The Tenjiku leader was displeased to find his executives all hoarded together. He figured out right away that they were spying on him.

"You know them?" You asked, curious of his sudden change of facial expression. You were still linking your arm with his. Izana's face scrunched with irritation, aggravated by their rude interruption. You knew Izana was involved in gang activities but you had never found out that he was the leader of his own gang.

"What the fuck are you guys doing here?!" Izana yelled at his exeuctives. His roaring voice sent shivers down to their spine. He untangled his arm from your hold, dangerously walking toward the other elite delinquents of his gang. Shion was on the verge of tears, fearing for his life and safety.

"S-Shit, run! RUN! FUCKING RUN!!" Shion, being the most coward among all of them, made a run from Izana's wrath. Izana ignored the others as they were already frozen on their spots so he began chasing after Shion, catching up with his speed easily.

"Wait, you fucker! I'm gonna fucking kill you for interrupting my date!!"

The small chaos somehow turned into a big calamity as Shion, Kakucho, Ran, Rindou, Muto and Kanji now needed to face Izana's rage.

While you just stood there all confused but enjoyed the evening drama nonetheless.

࿐*ೃ thanks for reading this short scenario! likes, interaction and reblogs are deeply appreciated ♡

[corvidpaws]

🪻🦋 GENESIS. 🔮📋

kirby oc tournament entry.

“Lucky is she, who lives unaware, who doesn’t get bothered by all that’s unfair…”

PERSONALITY.

Genesis is a kind, caring figure haunted by a past only they remember- and it doesn’t matter too much in the grand scheme of things, anyway. They have taken on the role of a therapist, and their personality generally fits the stereotypical view of a therapist. Of course, they aren’t without their flaws- often trying too hard to reach a goal or blaming everything on themselves.

BACKSTORY.

Genesis is from the Forgotten Land. Or, as the residents prefer to call it, the New World.

Their origins are mostly hidden. I mean, you don’t really want to tell people that- well. I’m not going to tell you their secrets. That’s just rude. They’ll tell you when they’re ready.

Hopefully.

All I can tell you is that they have a strange connection to Fecto Forgo.

Oh, well, I’ll tell you a bit more.

Let’s see… I’m sure it was written down somewhere around here.

“Since it’s capture, ID-F85 has only shown activity once- it’s brain patterns seem to suggest that it is dreaming. But that is a fanciful observation, and we are not fanciful people. A monster cannot dream.” — Retired Lab Discovera Tour, Year Unknown

The creature known as Fecto Elfilis had split into two- Fecto Forgo and Elfilin. The Ancients had long abandoned the planet, taking off to Shiver Star. Imprisoned, alone, unable to move and lost in a world without any creatures capable of thought- yet, they drifted. They dreamed. And in their dreams surfaced memories.

A land of dust and fire. A trickster magician.

A world of flora. A sorrowful spindler.

And their own great form, lost to the cruel experiments of the people who lived here, so desperate to leave.

From those dreams, came Genesis. A creation of stardust and love. They wandered throughout the abandoned land, watching as the beasts gained intelligence, and talking with them. When trapped in a collapsing tunnel, they met Elfilin, who saved them. The two then became friends.

They also met Gamma Knight, who landed in the forgotten land after [REDACTED]. Genesis helped them flee to [REDACTED].

When the Beast Pack was formed, Genesis stayed out of the way, recognising the work of their progenitor. But when Elfilin was captured, they followed Kirby from a distance, leaving behind Maxim Tomatoes and vanishing without a trace.

When Elfilis was defeated, Elfilin and Genesis reunited, and the former took the latter to Dreamland, where they both settled.

And they decided to settle on a rather successful career.

It had been a solid five hours since Kirby had started telling Genesis about the 'monsters' they'd fought, with Dedede and Meta Knight himself chipping in when needed; sometimes to explain their actions while the puffball had been defeating the newest threat to Popstar, sometimes to correct him or add a detail. But instead of getting frustrated or tired, Genesis had only listened politely, nodding as they talked. […] "Those monsters you fought... I'd be terrified, honestly. But you've survived all of it, and you're still here, ready to face the next battle, and that means you're exceptionally resilient. But life isn't all about battles." Genesis continued. "It's pretty late, so I'll end the session here, but think about it. Come back if you need to." — Chapter Two, Session One, These Creatures I’ve Seen

Well, that wasn’t a bit more, that was a lot more. But there are still some mysteries. Will you uncover them? Let’s find out.

OTHER.

Themes:

The Dream Discoveries Tour Juliet - Cavetown Blow My Brains Out - Tikkle Me Gilded Lily - Cults Meteor Shower - Cavetown Treehouse - Alex G

Toyhou.se Page: https://toyhou.se/22030569.genesis Ginjka Design: Here

“Unlucky me, who knows way too much, and fights to make changes through music and such, unlucky me, aware of the pain, all ‘cause I happen to have some brain…”

@kirbyoctournament sorry about the lore dump! It will happen again

[bookyeom]

minghao + “I noticed.”

Sorry this took me so long my friend!!! Here you go!

A/N: If you read and enjoy this, please reblog and/or send a comment! I’d love to know what you think.

Pairing: Minghao x Reader Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: swearing, art slander

Rembrandts, Monets, Picassos, Cézannes. Art pieces you’ve been dying to see since you were young and dreamed of Europe, all replicated in full and brought together in one spot for you to be in awe of.

And yet all you can do is make googly eyes at the man next to you, and hope he doesn’t notice.

Minghao, your classmate. The one you’d had a crush on since he sat next to you in your Race, Gender and Sexuality in Art seminar. The one who had snorted under his breath at a pretentious comment made by your balding, white, British professor, and who had subsequently made the professor look stupid when he’d been called out. You were impressed at the audacity of the dark-haired boy, and you’d told him so. A simple ‘nice one’ was what you’d whispered after the scene had died down, and you’d been rewarded with a smile and a giggle so different from the persona he presented that it had stunned you. (You hadn’t done much but stare at him for a solid minute after he thanked you and turned back to the lesson, so confused as you were by this boy that you’d never met before in your life.)

Since that first day, you’d sat next to each other, and you’d quickly decided that your new goal for the semester was not to get good grades – it was to make Xu Minghao laugh. 

“Why is this class about race and gender being taught by an old, white man anyway?” He’d asked under his breath another day, and the snort you’d involuntarily let out was rewarded with another giggle from him. The amount of times the two of you have been shushed by your professor has quickly gotten out of hand, but you don’t care. Minghao tends to say exactly what you’re thinking, and you’re in awe of how easily he’s able to verbalize his thoughts. You’re in awe of him for a lot of reasons, actually; he’s good at art, he’s intelligent, he’s hilarious.

He’s also terribly cute, which has proven to be entirely devastating for you.

You’re friends, of that much you were sure, but you never could really read into it much more than that. The two of you had exchanged phone numbers early on, sending messages mostly about your homework at first, but it had quickly progressed into jokes about your professor and had snowballed from there. Soon after, the flirting had begun, and you had been incredibly confused and unsure because he had been so Minghao about it all.

Then one evening you’d gotten a text from him that read: ‘Do you want to go out with me to the City Art Show tomorrow? I got two tickets,’ and you’d nearly shit yourself. 

Y/N (7:56pm): just us two?

Hao (7:57pm): that’s usually what a date is, yeah ;)

And now here you are, almost exactly 24 hours later, entirely unable to focus on some of your favourite artwork because of him. It isn’t your fault that he looks so good. He always does, but you’ve never seen him like this before – dressed up far more than his usual baggy hoodie, looking every bit like your art hoe dream boyfriend. What are you supposed to do other than look?

Thankfully, you manage to make it out of the museum without him calling you out on it, much to your relief. He suggests a walk, and you’re grateful for the fresh air, trying your best to suppress all thoughts of holding his hand as you stroll. The two of you eventually find a bench, and you’re fidgeting with your fingers when he speaks up.

“Did you like the museum?”

“Yeah,” you reply quickly. Wish I’d gotten to see more of it without you distracting me, you gorgeous motherfucker. 

“What was your favourite part?”

“Um…” You wrack your brain in an attempt to remember something, anything, about what you’d seen. “The Monet one?” 

You watch as Minghao’s face falls. “Oh… yeah.”

“You know, the one with the flowers?” Why are you still talking?

“Right,” Minghao says, monotone, and you really wish you could melt into one of the puddles on the ground below you. It’s silent, and he doesn’t try again, and you turn towards him abruptly.

“Minghao,” you say, a little desperate, and you hope he can’t tell that you’re sinking right now as you try to come up with something to explain yourself. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I wasn’t really looking at the artwork much–”

“I noticed,” Minghao says resignedly. “That’s too bad. I really thought you’d like the exhibit.”

“I did,” you try to explain, but you know there’s no real way out of this without telling him the truth. “I mean, I tried to! I just didn’t… absorb much of it. I’m tired, I think, and I–”

“It’s okay,” Minghao says with a shrug that you think is meant to appear nonchalant, but you can tell he’s dejected by the way he’s leaning back against the bench, arms crossed in front of him. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not for everyone.”

You stare at him for a moment, brain running a million miles a minute. Then you snap.

“Oh my god, Minghao,” you whine, “I’ve been dying to come here. When you asked me, I almost levitated. I wanted to look at it all, but I couldn’t stop looking at you the whole time!”

Minghao blinks.

You blink back.

You’re absolutely mortified. 

Your hands fly up to cover your face, willing for the ground beneath your feet to open up and swallow you whole. 

“Hey,” he says, and you suddenly register the soft squeak of his giggle. 

You peer over at him through your fingers to find him absolutely beaming. Was he laughing at you? You hide behind your hands again, trying to figure out how best to escape this disaster. 

“Come on,” he tries again, “look at me.” 

You can hear him smiling.

You startle as you feel fingers gently curl around your wrists, but you don’t resist as Minghao gently pulls your hands down and away from your face. He lets go once he can see you again, one of his hands lifting to scratch at his ear, and you can’t help but watch the movement. Are the tips of his ears red?

“I’m sorry,” he starts, and you can tell he’s trying not to smile again as the corners of his mouth turn up. “I just really thought you were bored the whole time,” he explains, and you know you’re in for it when he smirks. “I have to say, I find this reason much more interesting.”

You groan, and he giggles again, and you hate how damn cute he is. 

“I’m going to go and hide my face forever now,” you announce, rising onto your feet so quickly that you almost trip. 

“Hey,” Minghao protests. He’s fast to stand up, too, catching your elbow before you can eat shit. “Don’t do that.” You look up at him in question, and he adds, “...Professor Mackenzie is going to miss you if you hide your face forever.” 

You gape at him for a second, and then you’re turning on your heel and getting ready to make a run for it.

You don’t make it very far before his hand finds your sleeve, pulling you back, and you’re surprised when you find yourself flush against his chest. He’s laughing, but his arms are around you as he squeezes you in a quick hug before he’s letting you go, so fast you can barely process, his hands on your arms as he grins down at you.

“I’m sorry,” he tries, and you pout involuntarily. “I was distracted in there too, you know.”

You scoff. “Sure.” 

“I’ve come here before, so I didn’t need to focus so much on the art,” Minghao continues, ignoring you. “What I had to focus on this time was not looking at you.”

It takes you a minute to process his words. “You’re just saying that because I said it first,” you finally say after a minute, ignoring the fluttering in your chest at the thought, and Minghao shakes his head.

“It’s true. I always feel like that when you’re around – in class, too. And you look really pretty today.”

You have to physically stop your mouth from falling open. What the hell?

“Oh,” is all you manage, and then he’s biting back a smile again.

“Yeah, oh,” he returns, squeezing your arms fondly. “So if you can forgive me for not focusing tonight because I was looking at you, then I’ll forgive you for it, too.”

“Deal.” You stick out your hand and he shakes it with another giggle. You feel a cheeky smile finding its way onto your own lips as you add, “And don’t worry about me not seeing the art… I found another subject far more riveting anyway.” 

Your new goal: to make Xu Minghao blush more often.

Tags: @savventeen @wqnwoos @starsstuddedsky @dejavernon @tae-bebe

Message me if you want to be added to the permanent taglist! &lt;3

[chaostheoryy]

Duly Noted (A College AU)

[Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X GN!Reader]

Summary: As a studious undergrad on track for graduating with stellar marks, missing class because of the flu was by far the worst way to start your week. Fortunately for you, there’s one bright-eyed classmate who cares about you more than his reputation as a C-minus college athlete.

Rating: General

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: Well, since my inbox has been dry as the Sahara, I decided to come up with an idea of my own. So, without further ado, here’s the college AU Rooster fic that no one asked for! (No beta, per usual. We out here raw dogging these mistakes.)

Where are you?

Still in bed…

You’re playing hooky without me???

I’m not playing hooky! I’m sick!

You okay?

Yeah I’m alright. Got the flu I think.

Need me to get you anything? I can bring you medicine or snacks after class.

Nah, I’m good. Thank you though!

If you change your mind, lemme know.

Bradley frowned. As benign as the flu was, the thought of you being ill left a bad taste in his mouth. He knew fully well just how much that course meant to you and your degree. While he spent every class lounging in his chair and letting his mind wander to God knows what, you would bury your nose in your notebook or laptop and take notes on everything the professor said as if your life depended on it. He could only imagine just how disappointed you were missing out on a whole lecture’s worth of information.

Dammit…

As much as it pained him to admit it, he knew right away what had to be done.

“Hey, ’Tasha,” he whispered. “Natasha.”

The dark haired woman one row in front of him turned. Eyes narrowed and lips pulled into a sharp line of irritation, her gaze made daggers feel blunt.

“The hell do you want, Bradshaw?”

“You got a pen I can borrow?”

The question took her by complete surprise. Her brow raised, the scowl on her face melting into an amused smirk.

“You’re joking.”

Bob Floyd, her glasses-wearing friend and study partner, was drawn to her disbelief. “What is it?”

“Jockstrap over here is actually going to take notes.”

Bob glanced between her and Bradley. It took him a second to process what was happening but as soon as it hit him, he cracked a massive grin that rivaled Natasha’s.

Bradley rolled his eyes. “Alright, don’t make a big deal of it. You gonna lend me a pen or not?”

“Y’know, part of me wants to say no,” Natasha mused, “But watching you exercise those dusty ol’ brain cells is honestly a rare treat.”

“Gee, thanks.”

She reached into her bag and grabbed an extra pen which she tossed back to him. “Give that back to me after class or I’m gonna beat your ass.”

Bringing two fingers to his temple, he gave a little salute. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, unable to hide smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

For the first time that semester, Bradley Bradshaw’s untouched notebook was stained with ink.

* * * * *

You had fallen back asleep within minutes of his last text. The previous night had been an absolute nightmare. Violent chills had racked your body and made it impossible to get comfortable. Combining the shivers with the upset stomach and stuffy nose, you were miserable. Any rest you could get throughout the day was God-sent.

Your early morning nap lasted a good two hours. It was the most sound, dreamless sleep you’d had in the past week and, if it weren’t for the fact that Bradley called you just after 10am, you probably would have slept three times as long.

“Hello?” You answered groggily.

On the other end of the line, Bradley hissed. “Shit. Did I wake you up?”

“It’s okay. I’ve got all day to sleep. What’s up?”

“I don’t wanna make you get out of bed but I kinda need you to open the door.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Well, I know you said you didn’t need anything but I stopped at the store for stuff anyway. Can you come let me in? I would have one of your roommates open the door but I guess they’re both in class or something.”

You blinked. He was outside of your apartment.

“Yeah, hang on. I’ll be right down.”

Despite the protests of your body, you hurried out of bed. You ditched the sweat-soaked pajama shirt in the laundry basket and threw on a clean tee before stepping out of your room into the main hallway. A short walk to the front door and you pried it open to find Bradley standing on your welcome mat with paper bags of groceries nestled in both arms. He perked up the second he laid eyes on you.

“Hey,” he greeted with a soft smile.

“Hey. Come on in.”

You stepped back to let him inside, closing the door behind him as he headed for the kitchen. It wasn’t the first time he’d come over and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. As one of your closest friends and long-time classmate—it was honestly crazy to think you’d been in classes together as far back as the 7th grade—the two of you spent more time together than apart. Neither of you would have had it any other way.

“I’d give you a hug,” you said as he started unpacking the grocery bags, “But I don’t want to get you sick too.”

He chuckled. “I think I could take the hit.”

“Just ‘cause you can, doesn’t mean you should.”

You spotted a bottle of Gatorade on the counter where he’d unloaded stacks of soup cans and Tylenol. Taking the bottle, you slunk over to the couch where you could watch from a safe distance. The last thing you wanted was to share your germs with one of the school’s star baseball players. As much shit as Jake Seresin gave you and Bradley, something told you that the dickwad would be all the more annoying if he found out you were the one to force Bradley onto the bench for a week.

“How was Simpson’s class this morning?”

“Oh, thrilling as always,” he replied caustically.

“Bob answer every question?”

“You know it.”

You laughed. “Figures. At least we know that means somebody besides me knows their shit. I’ll have to get his notes later so I can catch up.”

“No need. I got you covered.”

Bradley paused his kitchen organization and dug in the backpack he’d discarded on the dining room table. Grinning proudly, he pulled out his notebook. Yes. His notebook—the one and only busted red spiral notebook with a sticker of a goose in aviators slapped on the bottom right corner of its cover.

“Wait. Don’t tell me…You actually took notes for me?”

“Sure did!”

He strolled over and dropped the notebook in your lap before collapsing on the cozy little armchair across from you. The look on his face as he watched you go through his notes was priceless. With big eyes and a triumphant smile, he bore an uncanny resemblance to a golden retriever waiting for his owner to give him a treat. And boy did he deserve one.

The thoroughness of his notes left you stunned. With six pages of organized, neatly scripted notes, it was by far the most effort you’d ever seen him put into classwork.

“Jesus, Bradley,” you said, “You really went all out on this didn’t you?”

He chuckled. “If I wanted any shot at making something up to your standards, I kinda had to. Plus, Bob and Natasha were eyeing me the entire lecture.  I think I finally get what peer pressure’s like now.”

A dull ache echoed in the back of your head as a reminder of your crappy night’s sleep and irritating affliction. You should’ve gone back to bed but you couldn’t pry your eyes from Bradley’s notebook. It meant the world to you that he’d done that. To think that he’d actually put that much effort into notes taken on your behalf when he wouldn’t even have bothered to jot down a single bullet point for himself. 

You flipped through the pages again, unable to hold back an awestruck sigh. “God, I wanna kiss you so bad right now.”

The statement was out of your mouth and lingering in the air long before your brain processed the consequences. What on God’s green Earth compelled you to say that? Were you high on over the counter flu meds? Or had the fever actually fried your brain?

You wanted to take it back. Especially when you dared to glance up and found Bradley gaping at you. 

Oh, for the love of God, you thought as fresh, non-fever related color rushed to your cheeks. Of all the ways to confess, this is the one you go with?

In all honesty, you should have seen it coming. It was only a matter of time. 

He’d been your best friend for the better part of a decade. Inseparable from the moment you met. Every big life event from birthdays to buying your first car, he was the first one to celebrate with you. Hell, the guy passed up a full ride to play baseball at the University of Florida just so he could go to the same school as you. 

Slowly but surely, as the years rolled on and childhood faded into the past, the friendship that you treasured became the key to your happiness. The goofy, thrill-seeking kid you’d come to adore and trust with your entire being grew into a selfless gentleman. Though he never lost that edge that separated him from perfectionists and academics, he’d clearly come into his own. It would have been impossible for you not to fall for him.

“Did you just say you wanna kiss me?”

Bradley’s voice reeled you back in from the sea of your internal torment. He didn’t sound angry or even disgusted by the notion. In fact, he almost sounded delighted—a theory that was backed the moment you looked over and saw a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and, despite the outcry from every defense mechanism tucked away in your subconscious, you forced yourself to reply. “I did.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, voice registering just above a whisper.

“Good.”

Your brow furrowed at his reply. You wanted to ask what he meant, to see if your confession was something the foundations of your friendship could withstand. But he was on his feet and crossing the distance between his chair and the couch before a question was even formulated in your mind.

“Bradley, hold on. I don’t wanna get you si—“

The protest died on your tongue. Warm, gentle hands cupped your jaw as his lips met yours. It was a sweet kiss. There was no hurry, no hesitation. Just the taste of a decade’s worth of fondness and pent up intimacy. Between the soothing caress of his fingertips at the nape of your neck and the bristle of his mustache just above your upper lip, you swore his kiss was better than heaven itself.

His hands kept their post along your jaw when he pulled back to look at you. The smile on his face was unbearably reverent. Anything softer than that look in his eyes and you would have suffocated.

“How long have you been waiting to do that?” You asked.

“How long have we been friends?”

Both of you chuckled. Turns out you weren’t the only one who’d gradually fallen over the years.

“Well, thank you,” you said.

“For what?”

You patted the notebook still sitting in your lap. “For thinking of me this morning. And for not flipping out when I said I wanted to kiss you.”

“This may come as a surprise,” he said with a lopsided smirk, “But I think about you a lot.”

Your brow cocked. “Oh, really?”

While it was clear from his tone that he meant it in an innocent, heartfelt manner, you couldn’t help but toy with the more explicit connotation of his words. And let’s be honest, you were guilty of having thoughts that strayed a little too far off the path of purity.

“Hey!” Bradley’s hands fell from your neck and one of his palms playfully shoved you back against the couch by the forehead. “Settle down. You’re supposed to be sick, not horny.”

You reached out to smack his thigh. “And you’re not supposed to be kissing people when they’re sick, dumbass. Jake’s gonna kill me if you end up missing a single practice.”

“Relax, sweetheart. I’ll just OD on Emergen-C when I get home.”

He ignored your childish pout and plopped down on the couch next to you. Rather than drape his arm over the back of your seat like he normally did, he hooked it around your shoulders and pulled you into the warmth of his embrace. Your head nestled perfectly in the crook of his neck where the scent of his cologne lulled you into dream-like contentment. You’d always thought he smelled good but nuzzling into him like that made it hard to overlook just how right it felt to be engulfed in his presence.

“You need anything?” He asked after a long moment of agreeable silence. “I can make you some soup if you want. I also got some mac n’ cheese if you’re feeling up to it. I don’t know how bitchy your stomach is acting right now.”

“Bradley?”

“Hm?”

“Shut up and let me fall asleep on you.”

A delightful, weightless sensation twisted in your stomach when you felt a chuckle rumble in his chest. Now there was a feeling you never realized you wanted.

“Alright. You sleep. We’ll get you to eat something when you wake up,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You hummed your approval and closed your eyes. All of your senses zeroed in on him. The way he smelled of cedarwood and ocean breezes, the way his chest rose and fell beneath you with each breath, the way his thumb absentmindedly stroked your shoulder. All of it was new and exciting. And yet, at the same time, it was as if you’d been indulging in the gifts of his adoration your entire life.

In a stark contrast to the evening prior, you fell asleep in record time.