#horse people piss me off sometimes

[toomanymessythoughts]

this garbage showed up on my tiktok fyp and i think this is a good time to talk about how sick and tired i am of how arabians are treated

This horse is very clearly extremely stressed and angry and yet people choose to poke fun at it because „omg arabians are so crazy and mean lol🤪“.

No. Arabians are neither crazy nor mean, they are intelligent, loyal, unbelievably kind and sensitive horses. The reason they get so much hate is because contrary to some other breeds, the „i‘m your boss and you better submit to me or else“-mentality that too many equestrians have often doesn't work on them. An arabian will not only see right through your bullshit, but also call you out on it and demand that you listen so if your behaviour/attitude makes an arabian act like this, it’s a sign that you need to change, not that the horse is crazy. It breaks my heart to see that attitudes like this seem to be so normalised in the horse world. Arabians deserve so much better

[thedisablednaturalist]

Tw for weight loss mention

The whole exercise will cure your disability thing is a fucking joke. Yes exercise is beneficial for your health, but only if you aren't already on shaky foundations. You need to be on a treatment plan that WORKS before going into the maintenance phase. You wouldn't do regular maintenance on a broken item, you'd work on getting it up and running first. And maybe it would even need specialized maintenance afterwards if it's especially fragile.

I have fibromyalgia and acute degenerative disc disease. My immune system attacks my nerves and discs in my spine are slowly calcifying and causing the bones to constrict and damage my nerves (i think thats how it works). I have days where it feels like my body is on fire from nerve pain and days where it feels like my spine is about to rip from my back. And days where I have both (like today!). I get numbness in my hands and feet. I have horrible migraines. I can no longer walk unaided more than maybe 5 minutes without severe pain. I have something wrong with my knees and hips but the doctors don't know what yet.

You'd think I live an obviously seditary lifestyle correct?

Hell no.

I walk aided on average 6 miles a day over difficult terrain OUTSIDE of regular activity almost everyday. My legs are muscular and strong. I get my heart rate up and a good sweat, like all the gym rats swear on. I am often doing physical labor such as weeding, digging, sample collecting, pruning trees etc.

I'm not saying this to make other disabled people feel bad or prove that they can do anything if they just tried harder. This is an extremely painful lifestyle I've chosen that takes a lot of lifestyle management AND BOUNDARIES to keep up with the work. I also have an extremely forgiving boss who is also physically disabled and knows what I'm going through (deciding between your passion and your health and having to do so each and every day) No one should ever be expected to do what I do. I'm not even sure if I should be doing this myself.

This is to prove that exercise? Has not cured me. My muscles are strong but still hurt as if they're broken and I have to take more breaks than my coworker. I am constantly getting out of breath and I flare up regularly if I'm not careful. I am in excellent physical condition outside of my disabilities. I go to different doctors several times a month to get checked out.

I previously went through a diet program and lost a lot of weight (basically starving myself and got off my depression meds which cause weight gain but are also the only ones that work) and guess what? That didn't do shit either!!! I still felt horrible!!! I've since gained back the weight anyway after switching to focusing on adding more nutrient dense foods than taking stuff away from my diet (also muscle weighs more than fat, and fat helps cushion my aching joints and spine).

The muscle doesn't do shit for my disabilities outside of maybe some stability. Exercising everyday doesn't make the pain go away. Without my medications and aids and nutrition plans and steroid injections and spinal adjustments and physical therapy (that takes my fibro and spine into account) and alternative work methods I WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO DO WHAT I DO. Exercise alone is like trying to make a car run with no oil. Yes it'll go but it'll get more and more damaged till it can't and will need its entire engine replaced!

And yet I see new doctors and they look at me and the first thing out of their mouths is do I exercise? I should try doing a little every day :) and then i fucking blow their minds when I tell them about my job. No longer can they use that fucking cop out on me. I've been through this rodeo. Ive tried their suggestions. If you are in pain and nothing is helping? Exercise ain't going to do SHIT. You need to get to a point where you can move without severe pain first (if that's even possible). Then and only then should you consider implementing regular exercise if you can. Also weight loss talk is a red flag and a cop out. They made me lose 50+ lbs before they would look into the reasons behind my pain. Weight loss did nothing for me and exacerbated my pain.

I am living proof that all that shit is a lie and a cop out. That is the point of this post. I cannot believe people with serious medical conditions are being forced to put their bodies through extreme duress just to be believed. You are not disabled because of laziness or because you sit a lot. Plenty of people live seditary lifestyles and do not live in constant excruciating pain (they may develop disabilities later in life due to this however, and should be doing preventative exercises to maintain their health)

Please, share my story with doctors. Use me as an example. I am proof that "exercise first treat later" does not work. I should not have had to wait years to have my pain validated. I'd rather hundreds of fakers get (what? A blood test? An MRI?) than one chronically ill person get told to try yoga and go away by a doctor.

[familyvideostevie]

you have me, you have me only

joel miller x reader you get (minorly) injured on patrol. joel does his best to patch you up and not worry too much. | jackson!joel, hurt/comfort, wound-patching, some blood, a jesse cameo, joel being joel, all that good stuff. | 4.2k a/n: part of the just and just as verse. not too soft but not too angsty, either. just another day after the end of the world, you know? thank you @mrsmando for your eyes on this! <3

___

"Almost there," you mutter. "Fuck."

The icy winter wind dulls the stinging in your palms to a numbness. The leather gloves you've had for half a decade stay tucked in your pockets. You don't want to ruin their lining with dirt and blood.

"How's the head?" 

Jesse pulls up alongside you in a trot. The adrenaline from your patrol-gone-wrong pulses heavy at the top of your spine, your vision sharp and the whole world a little too loud around you as Jackson comes into view at the bottom of the hill. Your head, like the rest of you, throbs.

"I'll live."

He scoffs and his horse snorts as if agreeing with him. In truth, you're more pissed than injured, though it certainly looks like you lost a fight. Jesse's cheekbone will no doubt bloom purple tomorrow and his lip is still bleeding sluggishly. His jeans are splattered with gore, same as yours.

"Thanks for back there," he says.

You shrug and wince when it pulls at the skin of your side where you fell. 

"You, too," you tell him with a grimace. "That was quick thinking with the brick."

You like him -- he's good at his job and he's a good friend to Ellie. You know Tommy and Maria are not-so-subtly training him to run this place someday if he wants to. As a patrol partner, you can't ask for much better. He knows all the routes and he's a good shot and his mom knows everything there is to know about everyone in town and sometimes he passes tidbits on to you.

But knowing your shit doesn't mean a damn thing in this world, sometimes. You can still get ambushed by infected on patrol and it can still fuck up your day.

He waves you off. "I just can't believe an elk chose our station to fucking die in."

"Tommy is going to shit himself when you tell him," you laugh. It pulls at your ribs. God, is there any part of you that didn't take a beating?

"He'll just be pissed he wasn't here."

Your horses reach the bottom of the hill and Jesse hesitates, the green scrap of cloth in his hand. The red one indicating an injured party peeks out from his pocket.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the clinic?"

"I'm fine," you say firmly. "I can patch up at home."

He eyes the cut on your forehead and your scraped palms but caves under your glare and waves the green flag.

"Joel makes the same face," he mutters. "Ellie does, too. Freaky."

The gates open and you grunt when you get off your horse, palms back to stinging.

"Joel's two expressions are pissed and annoyed," you say. “Not hard to pick one up.” You press the back of your hand to your forehead and it comes back tacky with blood. "Fuck."

"I don't think you'll need a stitch." Jesse holds his hand out for your patrol rifle and pats the neck of your horse. "I'll debrief and get these guys settled. You go home."

Normally, you'd protest. But you really just want to take a hot shower and sleep for twelve hours, so you nod and shoulder your pack carefully.

"Make sure you tell Tommy about beating a stalker to death with a brick," you call over your shoulder. "He'll be impressed."

Jesse laughs.

Snow crunches under your boots on the way home. Fuck, you're exhausted. The adrenaline fades with each step and the aches become sharp pains. There aren't too many people out today on account of the cold but you nod and wave, ignoring the double takes at the blood on your clothes.

It'll be a pain in the ass if you can't patch the ruined knees of your jeans. Maybe you can convince Joel to carve something for the woman down the street who can sew better than anyone in town. Finding new pants is damn near impossible.

You’re practically dragging your feet by the time you reach your house. The mailbox labeled Miller, the wind chimes gently swaying on the porch, all of it puts you at ease. You made it home.

The porch steps groan as you climb them and the front door opens from the inside as you reach the top. Joel steps out, hand still on the knob when he looks up and sees you. His eyes widen.

He was on patrol today, too. You left at the same time but he had a shorter route and must have gotten back a while ago.

"Are you coming to meet me?" you say with a grin that's genuine despite the way your body pulses with pain. He does this sometimes -- milling around the gate, chatting with people on the wall as he waits for you to return. You never really feel like you're home until you see his face.

Joel does not smile back. His eyes rake over you the same way he surveys a room, cataloging all of the important things. The gash on your temple, the rips in your jeans, the way you're favoring your left side. The blood, too -- it's everywhere, you're sure. Palms, knees, collar. Jesse helped you wipe your face before you rode back so that you could see without blood in your eyes, but you must look pretty fucking rough.

"Jesus," he says. His hand twitches like he's going to reach for you. "You okay?"

"I'll be better when I'm not standing out in the cold."

His nostrils flare and he heads back into the house, you on his heels. You dump your pack and sit down heavily on the bench to take off your boots. Joel beats you to it, lowering to one knee with a slight groan, fingers working at your laces.

Normally he'd ask how patrol was, how Jesse did, if you saw anything interesting. Instead, his cheek twitches like he's clenching his jaw so hard it hurts. He unties your double knots with practiced ease and his silence fills the entryway of your house.

In another life, the sight of him on one knee would set your heart aflutter. As it is, you want to run a hand through his hair and smooth the worry lines on his forehead. You know him and this is how he handles it -- he chews on blame that doesn't belong on his shoulders until he can fix it.

"I'm fine," you say softly. You open and close your hands, resting them on your knees. You got most of the gravel out but there's dirt and god knows what else embedded in the tender flesh. Joel pulls off one boot with a firm hand on your calf and then the other before finally looking up at you.

"You wanna explain...this, then?"

His hand waves up in your general direction. There's no tremble in his palm but his brows are furrowed, his shoulders set in that way of his, like he's bracing for bad news. You have a rule about not lying to each other. So if you say you're fine, you're fine. Achey, bloody, and gross, sure. But you made it home in one piece and now you'll let him take care of you and he has to be okay with that.

But you don't mind reassuring him. He worries, and you know the feeling.

You shrug and fail to hide your wince. Joel wraps a hand around your ankle and squeezes lightly.

"I've had worse," you say. "I'll tell you about it if you patch me up."

He softens a little and sighs. It won't do anything to remind him that he can't go back in time and stop you from getting hurt. Joel knows he can't fix everything, can't keep everyone he loves away from harm, can't save the world. Won't, if it comes at the expense of the people in his heart.

But you can give him something to do -- a way to make it better. You could probably bandage your hands and your forehead and the rest on your own but it'll help him just as much as you if he does it.

Life in this world is a constant give and take. You have to be okay with some things, with cuts and bruises and ruined clothes if it means you survived. There's no safety, not anymore.

"Alright, c'mon," he says, standing with a groan. "Upstairs, 'fore you bleed on the furniture."

He holds out a hand for you to stand but you show him your mangled palm. Joel clicks his tongue and grips your forearm gently instead as you rise.

"Gotta clean that," he says.

"That's the plan." You leave your coat and pack behind in a heap and head for the stairs. "A hot shower sounds so fucking good right now."

Joel stops you with a hand on your elbow and you turn on the bottom step. He traces the cut on your forehead with light fingers and you try not to wince.

"Shower," he says.  "I'll patch you up after." His tone leaves no room for argument.

You ghost your fingertips along his jaw and smile at him.

"Yes sir, Mr. Miller, sir."

More tension melts from his shoulders and he rolls his eyes at you. You laugh all the way to the bathroom, even though it hurts a little.

It's been a while since one of you returned from patrol with any sort of injury. Winter means the hoards are sluggish and easy to track and tends to keep groups of people from coming to the valley and making trouble. Today was bad luck and could have been much worse.

You both know how quickly all of the good in your lives can be snatched away. Everyone does.

But you just can't dwell on it. Joel knows it, too, and letting him fuss over you in that way of his will remind him. You're home. You're okay.

You leave the bathroom door cracked as you shower under the gentle spray. Your various injuries sting but you manage to clean the scrapes on your knees and hands and wash the blood from your skin and hair, the water rusty brown as it swirls around the drain. 

Joel knocks when you're almost done and the hinges groan when he steps into the bathroom.

"Leavin' you clothes," he says, voice raised so you hear over the spray. "You okay?"

"Still alive," you call back. "Almost done."

The water starts to turn lukewarm so you switch off the stream and drag back the curtain. Joel is nowhere to be found but he's left you loose shorts so your knees are exposed and a big, faded graphic t-shirt that you brought home for him as a joke last year as well as fresh underwear and warm socks. You gently pat your skin dry with an old and scratchy towel and do your best with your hair before sliding them on. 

Joel knocks again and this time he has the bag with all of your first aid stuff in his hands. The steam from your shower rushes out into your bedroom and you shiver.

He jerks his chin at the counter. "Wanna get up there?"

You haul yourself up with a groan and he stands between your knees, arms crossed and head cocked.

"What're we dealin' with, here?"

You look down at your messy palms and rattle off what hurts.

"Cut on my forehead, bruised rib, probably, fucked up hands and knees, and..." You look up and find Joel running a hand down his face. "That's it."

"You sure?"

You glare at him. He glares back. His eyes drift to your forehead gash.

"Cut could use a stitch." 

He's still tense, you can tell, probably will be until he wakes up tomorrow and you're still next to him in bed. Until the wounds turn to scabs turn to scars. Maybe not even then.

"I think I've had enough cuts over the years to know what needs a stitch."

His eyebrows rise just a little bit, turning his expression from interrogative to exasperated, but he knows better than to tell you to do something when you’ve set your mind against it.

"They're offerin' medical degrees on the Creek Trails, now?"

"Joel."

He holds his hands up in surrender. "Fine," he says. "Let me feel your ribs."

You raise your arms a little and he slides his palms under your shirt and up your torso, pressing gently as he goes. Braless as you are, he brushes the underside of your breast, and your breath hitches. His eyes are soft with quiet amusement but he doesn't tease you.

"Your hands are warm," you murmur. He reaches the place on your side that took the brunt of the impact and you hiss.

"Sorry," he says. "Doin' real good. Deep breath for me." You obey and he withdraws, satisfied.

"Nothin' broken," he says.

"Told you."

He hums and pulls out the precious few disinfectant wipes from your first aid kid. You can get Joel to do a lot of things just by asking, but arguing with him about wasting supplies on you never works. He washes his hands in the sink and glares are you like he knows what you’re thinking.

"Forehead first, then hands, then knees," he says. "Okay?'

You nod, eyes fluttering shut. He grips your face with gentle fingertips to keep you still.

"How was your patrol?" you ask him.

He makes a noise low in his throat that's halfway to being a laugh.

"C'mon," he says. "You don't want to hear about mine. I know you're dyin' to tell me what happened."

The alcohol wipe stings as he swabs at your forehead and you tense. Joel's thumb rubs slow circles at the corner of your mouth and you press your knees into his hips.

Funny how you've had broken bones, been stabbed, shot, pretty much everything over the last twenty years but it's the small stuff that hurts the most. Stubbed toes, sliced fingers, alcohol wipes on shallow wounds. Some things just don't change.

"Okay," you say. "Well, you'll never believe it, but a damn elk decided to die in the station where the logbook is."

You tell him how you and Jesse rode up and saw the blood trail immediately and heard the moans and groans. You kept the horses on the other side of the fence and checked the first floor and the overlook, but the elk had weaseled its way under the collapsed staircase.

It smelled like death, rust and decay heavy in the air. The animal must have died just after the last patrol.

But it wasn't the problem. It was the group of Infected it attracted -- two runners and four stalkers. You have no idea where they came from but, since you were on patrol, the priority was eliminating them. The runners were easier, although one of them was responsible for the gash on your forehead when it managed to push you into the wall. You and Jesse cleared them quickly, one bullet each.

You thought you got all of the stalkers. One of them was munching on the carcass and went down fairly easily with your good aim. Jesse helped you clean your forehead so you both could clear the passage to get to the upper level and sign the logbook. The corpses went over the side of the station into the forest below. The Infected had eaten so much of the elk that it wasn't too heavy, though you both were sweating and dirty by the time you finished.

"Lemme guess," Joel says. You open your eyes as he carefully pulls the wound closed with two butterfly bandages before he gestures for your hand. He holds your wrist gently and tilts your palm side to side, looking for dirt. "There were infected inside the station, too."

"Look at you," you tease. His eyes flick to yours for just a second, intense as always. "It's like you were there."

"Smartass," he grumbles. The disinfectant stings on your palm, too, but you keep talking and keep your gaze on his face.

"Jesse climbed the rope up to the control room first but had to fend off a stalker at the top so he didn't see when another one grabbed my ankle and pulled me down mid-climb, which fucked my hands. The fall is how my rib got bruised and I tore up my knees fending it off."

Joel's cheek twitches. He wraps one of your palms in gauze and turns his attention to the other.

"Fuckin' hate those things."

"Me, too. When I got to the top, finally, Jesse was tugging a pipe from the head of a corpse. There was one more -- it jumped out of that supply room on the side, the one where Ellie found a bong, once, I think. I dodged it but my gun jammed and my hands were bleeding."

"Should've been wearing gloves."

You tap his leg with your foot and ignore him. Not taking your bait about the bong means he’s still pissed. "And then Jesse killed it with a brick."

"I taught him that," Joel grumbles.

He ties off your other palm and as soon as he's done you frame his face. Joel allows it, allows you to stare at him for a few seconds like you're memorizing him. You're telling the story like it was a fun adventure -- and it was. You're plenty capable and he knows it, too.

But you were scared. You don't tell him that right now, instead grounding yourself in the man in front of you. His hands are rough and dangerous to most, but tender and careful to you. The broad, firm line of his shoulders, always braced for the next hit.

The gash on the bridge of his nose, the lines at the corners of his eyes. His beard, greyer every year. You swipe your thumbs along his cheekbones and he sighs.

"Lucky me," you say softly.

You lean in to kiss him, just a light press of your lips to his. His wide palms rest on your bare thighs and he kisses back with a kind of desperate firmness, as if he's proving to himself that you're real. That you're here in front of him, under his hands, in his care.

Joel drags his lips along your cheek.

"Knees," he says.

He steps back and releases your thighs with a squeeze. He treats more of your torn skin, a frown back on his face.

"I do want to hear about your patrol, by the way."

He shrugs. "Not much to tell," he says. "Didn't even get to shoot anythin’.”

You swing your foot back and forth, tapping the side of his thigh with every pass.

"But you had the nice route," you whine. "Tell me what the lake looked like."

"Quit distracting me," he grumbles.

"Like you don't have the steadiest hands in all of Jackson," you say softly.

He snorts. "Are you flirtin' with me?"

"I'm always flirting with you, Joel Miller."

You lied to Jesse earlier -- Joel has hundreds of expressions. He just keeps most of them for you. For Ellie, and Tommy, too. You know every one of them by now.

The look on his face now says he's thinking about kissing you again, maybe just to shut you up.

You grin at him. "Tell me about your patrol, now, seriously. Unless talking and using your hands at the same time is too much for you."

He smirks back. "Think we both know that ain't true."

"Now who's flirting?"

Lazy heat curls in your belly but fatigue stops it from turning into anything. Joel must see that in your eyes because he simply taps your chin with a knuckle and starts talking.

You start to slump as his Texas drawl wraps around you. He tells you how the lake was still, how he and Astrid saw bear tracks but no bear. How he found a tape for Ellie that he's going to give her tomorrow, how he wore his gloves today like you've been telling him to.

Some people might say that Joel is a man of few words. You thought he was the quiet type when you first met him, another stoic survivor in a world that demands hardness of everyone. But not shy, never shy. Just...waiting. Watching.

He and Ellie can shoot the shit for hours -- a dynamic they've fallen back into easily enough since they started spending time together again. He's funny, he's clever, he's annoying as shit when he wants to be.

And Joel is quite the storyteller. If you had to guess you'd say it comes from having to entertain Tommy when they were kids, from getting Sarah into bed on his own over and over. Keeping Ellie occupied, keeping her talking when things were scary and hard and fucking awful.

It's just another way he takes care of people.

"Still with me?" he says. You realize your eyes have closed. When you open them you find Joel looking at you with tenderness and a spark of amusement. The tense line of his shoulders is nowhere to be seen. "All done. Tired?"

"And hungry."

He washes his hands and throws away the various wrappers and blood-stained wipes.

"Sure you're awake enough to eat?" he teases.

You roll your eyes at him. He laughs.

"Joel," you say, catching his elbow. "Thank you."

"C'mon, now."

He looks like he wants to argue with you for saying it but reaches for you instead. He traces the cut on your forehead just like he did at the bottom of the stairs, brow drawn again. You can't tell what he's thinking as he drags his thumb down and around your eye, cupping your cheek fully for just a breath before releasing you and stepping towards the door.

"I'll heat some soup."

Dinner is quick and quiet, your energy sapped from you to the point of exhaustion. Everything aches, despite Joel's thorough care. When he suggests turning in early you don't protest.

He takes longer than you to get ready for bed. You slide under the worn duvet and wait, trying very hard to keep your eyes open. Your bruised ribs throb in time with your heartbeat and when Joel finally turns off the light and gets in bed next to you in his threadbare sleep pants he practically hauls you into his embrace.

You go willingly, tangling your legs and laying your head on the juncture of his neck and shoulder. You press your palm to his chest, fingers threading in the coarse hair. His heart thuds and it grounds you.

"I didn't get any good gossip off Jesse," you whisper. "On account of the whole surprise-infected thing."

He yawns. "S'pose it's a good excuse."

"Can I tell you something else?" you whisper. "A secret?"

Joel hums, lips brushing your temple as his hand snakes up your sleep shirt to press against your lower back.

Even though you know each other down to the bones, some things remain inexplicable. Parts of your pasts that linger in the darkest parts of you, the parts that stay shrouded until the moments like this. You don't have to be brave in the quiet hours of the night, entwined with him as you are. It's the safest place you'll ever be. Safe enough that you can crack open and let Joel in, let those steady and worn hands keep you together.

"I was scared today," you say into his neck. "When the stalker dragged me off the rope. I panicked, I --"

You don't tell him how your initial thought when you hit the ground was of him, how you closed your eyes tight and thought of your name from his mouth, of his smile when you come through the door. The stalker had its bony fingers digging into your ankle and you wondered if you'd ever feel Joel's hands on you again.

Death will come for you sooner or later and when it does it'll be Joel's face that you hold in your mind before it all ends.

But today, you kicked death until its stupid fucking mushroom skull caved in.

Joel presses his lips to your temple. You can feel his heart beating faster, as fast as yours. It's the only thing that betrays his own fear.

Wounds in this life often go deeper than the skin. When Joel comes home with bloody knuckles and shuttered eyes it's one thing to stop the bleeding, to bandage him and get him to eat something. It's another to hold him, to coax out the story, the fear. To follow him downstairs when he has a nightmare, to look for him in every room. It's all part of what you do as partners, as lovers, as people in this world. You take care of each other.

Neither of you can fix a lot of things. But you can ensure the scars heal into something light, something you can barely see.

You can hold each other in the dark.

"Scared me, too," he rasps. A secret for a secret. "Lotta damn blood."

You kiss the underside of his jaw. "Can't get rid of me that easy."

Joel pulls you closer, somehow, mindful of your side.

"Rest, now," he says. "You ain’t goin' anywhere."

It's a command, a promise. You hum your agreement and let sleep drag you under.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[f1byjessie]

HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part four.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, and 24,727 others

yourusername here’s a sneak peek of the photos from a shoot me and my beloved did for hermès! i’m so honored to get to work with so many skilled and talented people! none of this would’ve been possible without them

view all 1,981 comments

user these are stunning!! 😍❤️

user I MISSED THE RIDING CONTENT

user genuinely had no idea y/n was a rider

↳ user no fr cuz the sargeants are all athletes in some way it’s crazy!!

↳ user i think she just rides casually now 🤔 but she used to compete when they were in europe

logansargeant do i get to brag and say my sister modeled for hermes now?

↳ yourusername there’s plenty of other brands i’ve modeled for that you could brag about 💀 and it was technically my horse that modeled

landonorris ok so are you gonna take me for a ride sometime?

↳ yourusername only if you promise to do the same

↳ user WAIT HOLD ON WE'VE MISSED SOME CHAPTERS

↳ user is y/n not with oscar???

↳ user this bitch is homie hopping the mclaren boys 😒😒

You have barely enough time to respond to the knocking— or rather pounding— on your door before it's being flung open and Logan, looking very much the part of an angry brother, barges in.

“Is it true?” He asks in lieu of a greeting.

“‘Hi, Y/N,’” you begin sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “‘So good to see you, Y/N. Sorry for barging in, Y/N. Can I have a moment of your time, Y/N?’ Why of course, dearest brother of mine. What can I do for you?”

Logan doesn’t seem amused by your antics, though. His eyebrows are furrowed, his mouth is pinched into a frustrated frown, and his hands are clenched into fists at his sides. He’s in his running clothes, and there’s still sweat keeping his hair plastered to his forehead, which gives you the impression that whatever he’s asking about had been deemed important enough that he couldn’t even be bothered to shower and change before confronting you about it.

You wonder, briefly, if his new trainer is downstairs in the living room or if he’s gone home already. You almost ask about it just to piss him off even more, but he looks genuinely serious and you’ve— mostly— grown past the years of purposefully picking on him to get a reaction.

Instead, you sit up further in bed and look at him expectantly, prompting him with a wave of your hand to elaborate.

“Are you dating Lando Norris?”

The question, and the sincerity with which it’s asked, startles a laugh out of you. The flash of hurt in your brother’s eyes, however, forces you to bite back the immediate retort. Logan isn’t asking to be a dick, you remind yourself.

Before you answer, you pull your legs up to your body and pat at the now free space in front of you.

He purses his lips, but eventually, he closes the door— softer than how he’d opened it— and moves to sit on the edge of your mattress. For a moment, as he looks at you, he doesn’t look like the nearly 23-year-old that he is. When you were younger, he’d come into your room and talk about his races, what all he did wrong, and what new things he was going to try next time, and the young man that sits before you now reminds you a lot of that little boy.

“No,” you answer him simply. “I’m not dating Lando. He and I are just friends.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “But do you want to date him?”

You shake your head and sigh, before grabbing your phone off the bedside table and pulling up the brief text conversation you had with Lando last night after he’d tipsily called you. There’s a frankly obscene amount of typos and more emojis interspersed throughout than you thought a guy like him would use, but the majority of it is all the details of his supposedly foolproof plan.

You take a deep breath, weigh the consequences of your actions for a split moment before throwing caution to the wind, and turning the screen to face Logan.

“I don’t want to date Lando,” you admit. “I want to date Oscar, and he’s helping me.”

Logan’s silent, and you pray that it’s just because he’s too busy reading through the messages to focus on reacting to what you’ve said. But the silence stretches on, and on, and on, and suddenly you regret saying anything. Maybe you should’ve just agreed and said it was Lando all along—

“I know Oscar better than Lando,” Logan suddenly says. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t just ask for my help.”

It’s your turn to be silent now. You open your mouth, close it, open it again, and close it again. You probably look like a fish, but you’re so taken aback by what he’s said that it doesn’t even matter.

“You’re not, like, mad?” You pull your phone back and let the screen fall dark, eyes focused on Logan.

He looks at you like you’re dumb, or like you’ve actually turned into the fish you were momentarily mimicking. He shakes his head— “Why would I be mad? Oscar is, like, the only driver I’d want you to date.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“I mean, the others are all nice, don’t get me wrong,” he clarifies. “I’m sure they’re all very good partners, and I bet Lando would be an amazing boyfriend. Probably. But I know Oscar. I trust him more than I trust the others because I know for a fact that he’s a genuinely good guy. That first year that we met him, he asked me what your favorite color was to make sure his mom knit you a hat that you would like.”

“That was years ago, Logan…” you trail off.

He shrugs. “So? It’s not like he’s changed that much. When we were still at Prema, and you went through that vegetarian phase, I caught him once looking up restaurants that have vegetarian options so that you could eat with us when we went out to celebrate.”

You glance down, avoiding Logan’s eyes. Picking at a loose thread at the bottom of your shirt, you say, “That was still years ago.”

“What about all the flirting in the comments,” he asks.

You shrug. You’re not even sure yourself. The way Sophia and Lando had explained things to you, it had certainly seemed like flirting, but the lack of his presence on your posts as of late has made you reconsider your initial beliefs and now you’re not sure what to think.

Realistically, all of this could probably be solved if you just texted him and asked— womaned up, as Sophia would say, and confronted him about your feelings. But there’s still that underlying fear of rejection, and you would never be able to live down the mortification if you did something so bold and had your confidence thrown back in your face.

“So you’re just gonna play pretend with Lando and hope Oscar gets jealous and does something about it?” He sounds genuinely confused. “Isn’t that… mean?”

“That’s what I said!” You exclaim, burying your head in your hands with an exasperated groan. “But Lando and Sophia are so adamant that it’ll work, and they have more relationship experience than I do. I don’t wanna manipulate him at all, but I don’t know what else to do to get his attention again other than talking with him, and I think I might actually throw myself into the ocean if I have to do that.”

Logan’s face scrunches up, “‘Again?’”

You purse your lips and awkwardly shrug as if that’s a good enough answer, but his silent stare persists, so you heave a sigh and fall backward against your pillows, glaring miserably up at your ceiling. “We kissed. Once. In Bahrain.”

He stands from your bed suddenly, pulling your gaze back onto him. His hands are on his hips, his brows are still furrowed and his mouth is still turned downward ever so slightly, but he looks less upset and more determined than anything.

“I’m gonna go get cleaned up. Be ready in thirty minutes,” he says. “We’re going out.”

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tagged: yourusername

logansargeant sometimes it’s just you and your sister against the world, and sometimes that means last-minute trips to the beach to remind yourself that it isn’t all that bad

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yourusername you didn’t really give me much choice tbh 🙄

↳ logansargeant yea ok well someone in this family has to have a sense of spontaneity 🙄

user wholesome sibling content is what’s keeping me going fr

user i’m so happy we’ll be getting more of y/n in the paddock in 2024!! 💙💙💙

landonorris is twin telepathy real?

↳ logansargeant totally

↳ landonorris you’re messing with me no it’s not

↳ yourusername it absolutely is that’s why me and logan are always on the same page

↳ landonorris fuck that’s so cool

user i’m ugly crying the fact that they’re twins makes them built-in best friends i can’t do this rn 😭😭

user the sargeant twins are keeping us fed this winter break

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yourusername sometimes self-care is sunsets and petty gossiping with your brother 

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logansargeant emphasis on the petty

↳ yourusername obviously

user girl idk how you can stand how cold the water is rn

↳ user i mean they kinda grew up in europe so maybe they’re used to it

user i wish i had a brother to gossip with 😫😫

user i NEED to know who they talk shit about PLS

alex_albon hopefully the east coast is having better weather than the west coast 🥲

↳ yourusername sunny skies as far as the eye can see 😌

user I’M REALLY WATCHING THESE TWO LIVE MY DREAM RN

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oscarpiastri ☀️.

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━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl

━━ a/n: we're going places! i'm very excited for what's in store with the next part! beyond that, though, i am seriously so thankful for how nice everyone has been with this. the reception was so much nicer than i ever could've anticipated, and i'm very excited to keep writing more!

[kayesfanfics]

Belmont! Reader with a hint of x Alucard

You and your brother could be a lot alike; brash, sometimes arrogant, cocky, sometimes lazy. You were less sarcastic and rude to other people and usually saved that for banter with him, as Trevor would %1000 start fights with his siblings no matter how old he was, he’s always going to be somewhat of a man child. You were always the more mature one even if you were only a year or two older than him, you often had to save his ass from people or vampires he pissed off. You enjoyed traveling with Sypha as the two of you could gang up on him and give him a taste of his own medicine

After joining Alucard in the mission to kill Dracula, you and your brother led the two to your family’s hold to find proper weapons and information to carry out said mission. You sat in the back of the wagon with Alucard while Sypha sat up front with Trevor, directing the horses and leading the way back to the Belmont estate. Alucard was often watching as the trees passed by, deep in his thoughts as you boredly tapped your foot on the wood of the wagon floor, eventually annoying him enough to send you a glare and make you stop

“So like…how can you be in the sun?”

“I am half human. Some things don’t effect me the way they do full blooded vampires.”

“Do you have to drink blood?”

“Sometimes.”

“Can you have garlic? Or is that just a myth?”

“Is there a point to all these questions?”

“I’m bored.” You shrugged, tired of listening to your brothers and Sypha’s squabbling about directions. Alucard simply raised an eyebrow at you, before continuing to answer any questions you had about his physiology and his father and the castle

Once you all stopped to make camp for the night, you collected firewood with Trevor, who immediately started bugging you

“I heard you two getting quite personal back there.”

“I heard you and Sypha getting quite personal up there.” You repeated, shoving him away from you as the two of your carried firewood back to camp

“I’m just saying, you seemed a bit too curious.”

“And? This is any of your business because?”

“Because I’m your brother! I’m supposed to look out for you!”

“I’m older than you! I can handle myself!”

“So? I’m stronger than you!”

“I’m smarter than you!”

“I’m taller than you!”

“I’m-“

“Are you two bickering again?” Sypha interrupted as you both reached camp. You both froze and cleared your throats awkwardly before setting the wood down for her. She rolled her eyes at the two of you, but mostly towards Trevor as you too rolled your eyes at him, before huffing and sitting next to Alucard, who side eyed you but didn’t say anything

After a couple days you finally reached the Belmont Estate, feeling a pang of nostalgia and grief hit you when you saw it in ruins as you left it all those years ago. You and Trevor led the speaker and the vampire down into the Hold, beginning to search for information to aid you all in battle. You watched Alucard gaze at a display of vampire skulls, including one the size of a child, before searching for books near him

You heard your brother gasp and rush over somewhere, before dragging out a large chest. Your eyes widened and you rushed over, your eyes widening in disbelief when you saw the glorious weapon inside

“The Morningstar…” You both breathed, amazed by the artifact as Trevor gave it a test swing

“It’s mine.”

“No way, I found it!”

“I’m older! It goes to me first!”

“Does not! Go find your own weapon!”

“Are you two fighting over that UGLY thing?” Sypha asked, looking at the weapon in disgust. You gasped dramatically at that, before telling her about how glorious it truly was. You bickered with your brother over it before you finally lost the argument, glaring at him before storming off to find something else to use

“That is quite childish, Belmont.”

You turned and saw Alucard flipping through a book behind you as you opened another chest of smaller weapons. You poured and ignored him, which made him chuckle at your slightly puffed out cheeks and furrowed brows

When night fell, you found a rather uncomfortable place to rest, finding a large cloak that belonged to an ancestor to curl up in next to a small fire in a lamp you made. It felt weird being back home, it was too quiet and still for it to be home, but yet it was. Alucard must’ve noticed the melancholic look on your face, as he brought his stack of books over and sat across from you, reading by the lamp light. You smiled at the gesture and sat with him in the comfortable silence, watching the fire flicker and listening to him flip the old pages of the books

“Alucard?” You finally worked up the courage to gain his attention. He didn’t look up from the pages of the book, but acknowledged you with a response.

“Please, call me Adrian.”

“…Adrian?”

“Y/N?”

“Will you be able to do it? Will you be able to…to kill your father?”

He looked up from the book, but he didn’t look angry or sad. He looked determined and deep in thought like usual, carefully searching for the right words.

“Yes, I will. It needs to be done, and I’m afraid I may be the only one that can do it.”

You looked up at him solemnly, looking into his eyes and seeing a hint of premature regret and sorrow. You could tell this would be harder for him than he was letting on, after all, just because he was a genocidal maniac, Dracula was still a father. You gently took the book from his hands, and he let you, before moving over to sit with him. You offered part of the cloak to him, to which he accepted and sat closer to you.

“I know we don’t know each other very well yet, but we’re all here to help you. I know my idiot brothers been giving you a hard time about it, but I know you can do it. Even if it’s going to be hard.”

He gave you a small smile, before quietly saying, “Thank you, Y/N.” You smiled back before resting your head on his shoulder shamelessly, feeling him stiffen up a bit but slowly relax to your touch as you began to doze off.

“Goodnight, Adrian.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

[peqchys]

❥ obey me demon form headcanons!!

these are a month or so old but i realized i never posted them so here we go!! [headcanons under cut!!]

lucifer!! ⁃ for the love of god he’s not goat boy he’s peacock boy ⁃ do i think he would let mc keep a pretty feather or two? yes. ⁃ i think he would spread his feathers when he’s super pissed ⁃ on a similar note, i think the boys would have some animalistic instincts related to their demon forms. so yes, lucifer WOULD try to use his pretty pretty feathers to attract mc [it works, somehow] ⁃ i don’t think he could FLY, per se, but he could probably lift himself off the ground a bit

mammon!! ⁃ a weird mix between bat and bird?? ⁃ he preens for sure!!! why? because i think it’s cute. ⁃ ^ he tries to “preen” mc also, if they’ll let him [just him playing with or brushing out their hair] ⁃ he has small claws/talons even out of his demon form ⁃ the whole bird demon thing just makes him like shiny things even more than he already does ⁃ ^ you may offer the mammon coins and jewelry to win his heart

levi!! ⁃ my favorite sea-monster-snake boy!! ⁃ LOVES water. likes to go swimming and showers + takes baths super frequently just to be in water [yes, the gamer boy showers] ⁃ sometimes hisses like a snake if he’s frustrated ⁃ has a super long tongue and can unhinge his jaw [because i’m a weirdo and i think it’s cool] ⁃ will wrap his tail around mc as a sign of affection ⁃ has sharp, shark-like teeth ⁃ curls up with his tail around himself like a snake!! ⁃ while he isn’t ahletic normally, he’s very good at swimming and super fast when he’s in water!!

satan!! ⁃ unicorn cat boy?? again a weird mix ⁃ will genuinely kick people like a horse if they piss him off or startle him. i’m not kidding ⁃ one of the RAD newpapers did say that satan’s birthmark was on his back, so i like to think that he has fur of some kind that we can’t see ⁃ his tail follows cat tail language!! so for example he wags his tail when he’s mad and curls it when he’s happy to see someone [probably mc] ⁃ will let mc pet his tail as long as they’re very careful ⁃ he can purr i will not take criticism on this

asmo!! ⁃ scorpion boy!! also has bat traits like mammon!! ⁃ CAN sting someone in self defense. ⁃ has more bat traits/behavior than mammon ⁃ ^ vampire bat to be specific!! yes, he can and will suck blood. ⁃ vampire bats are very cuddly with each other, which i think makes sense for asmo!! ⁃ ^ they also groom each other, so i think asmo would do the same with mc [regularly checking in with them and helping to fix their hair and/or makeup]

beel!! ⁃ my silly silly bug boy ⁃ y’know how flies rub their little hands together before they eat? yeah, beel does that too and he doesn’t even realize it. ⁃ in my take of his demon form, he has multiple sets of arms and eyes ⁃ flies are attracted to body heat, and so is beel. he’ll follow mc around the HOL and just hover around wherever they choose to settle down

belphie!! ⁃ funny little cow boy!!! ⁃ cows will follow around humans that they like, and belphie does the same thing!! even if he’s sleepy, he’ll follow mc around until they sit down and then he lets himself nap ⁃ ^ adding this together with the beel thing, the twins are basically completely attached to mc. you could go into any given room in the HOL and just see the three of them cuddled up in a pile. ⁃ ^ speaking of cuddling, cows like to be hugged and cuddled, and you can bet belphie does too!! he tries to fall asleep the same room as mc so that maybe he’ll get some cuddles. sometimes he’ll even force himself into their lap to ensure that he gets their attention. ⁃ i think that belphie wags his tail when happy or comfortable. i know that cows don’t actually do that but let me have this lol

[judasgot-it]

i would like to know what hunting dogs would do when they want reader sits on their lap?👀

I am so late to this request but in honor of learning that Tecchou is 6 foot today.... mwah

Scenario: What they do when they want reader to sit on their lap (Jouno, Tachihara, Tecchou) Also slight NSFW elements but like it's mostly jokes. Thought I'd let y'all know ahead of time.

Jouno

He's not one for physical touch usually since it overstimulates him, but once and a while he likes to be warm and would definitely be some weird cheesy guy to use it as a sort of intimidation tactic. Like mafia men who pet cats.

If it's in any sort of public setting, it's because he is well aware you're hot and sexy (everyone who reads this is, because I said so) and loves to cuck people sometimes. He's probably into some shit like that idk

He probably does it in the most obnoxious way possible too - you'd think you're in some dark romantasy with the way he's acting. It's all a part of some evil scheme to piss off some dude that he's mildly annoyed by

Definitely does it once and a while though whenever you're in fancy af places. Dude likes to be praised and has a lot of money, don't tell me he wouldn't love to have someone pretty in his lap calling him nice things

Especially if you're his partner, he wants to show off that he won - he's blind, not stupid. He knows people are jealous.

Pulls you in by the waist and talks as if it's the first time he ever met you. He'll pull out some poetry and shit while tracing your hipbones, he does know how to make you feel enamored.

At home? In private? He probably likes his space but when he wants to have you in his lap, he just does it.

What are you? Too busy for your boyfriend? Nuh-uh. He just takes you. Are you going to punch a gift horse in the mouth?

Jouno has a big ego sometimes, thinking his mere touch is so special.

Although I think it's less of a physical want for touch and more of a security thing. He needs to know that you're there and aren't going to disappear from him

I think sometimes he is a little insecure and he just needs a hug, but it's hard to ask so he just. Pulls you into his chair and buries his face in your shoulder

I also headcanon that he gets cold easily, so once and a while he gives in and just uses you as his portable heater

Tecchou

Is all up in your space all the time, doesn't even realize how it might look to others.

Touching you, kissing you, practically glued to your side and staring at your face. If he's not on a mission, he is obsessed with you no matter what.

If you can't sit next to each other he'll just have you sit on his lap - he has big thighs, he makes a better seat anyway. Or he'll sit on the bench and let you sit on him if it's too cold for you - he's a gentleman, even if it means freezing his own ass off.

Isn't super handsy like Jouno is, he just wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady and hold you close to him.

Definitely manhandles you though, makes you feel like you weigh nothing when he just casually holds you in one arm like a cat

He's more casual about it, but that's because PDA can be pretty easy for him. As long as he can have one hand on his sword, he's happy and feels safe

At home he can sit like that forever, but that's also because when he's on his time off he becomes the laziest dog around sometimes. If he's allowed, he would just cuddle up with you and do nothing but sleep

Has fallen asleep with you in his lap, which was cute but also you both avoid making it a habit since he is heavy and will hold onto you so tightly as if you're going to drown or something.

The best option he has is to pull you into his lap and spend time with you like that, even if all you're doing is reading a book or mindlessly scrolling through tiktok

He just wants to feel you there, since he spends so much time away from you

Admittedly he is most likely to get carried away from simple cuddling to other things...

Tachihara

He only asks when y'all are alone - like REALLY alone. He is used to his mafia image, and even when he doesn't have to keep it up at headquarters, he's scared of being teased.

Likes to hold you in his lap and just talk about each others day, it's one of his favorite forms of cuddling since he can just hold you with him while you're both in the office

He's a little lanky, he's built but he is shifting around a lot and it's hard for him to have you on his lap for so long. He doesn't have the biggest ass in the world (unlike some other dogs on this list)

Like Jouno, is really touchy though - he kisses you, teases your skin, and plays with your hands

He wants to enjoy the time he is spending with you, and if he could he would memorize your entire body with just his fingertips

It's almost like a massage when he does it, tracing your thighs in little patterns while you quickly fill in forms you both needed to do yesterday. He's enjoying his time, what can he say?

At home?

Dude is having you on his lap while you both play games or do your own thing. Parallel play

He want his time, but he doesn't want to lose time with you

It's a compromise, so he can sit on his computer playing PalWorld while you scroll your phone

It's warm, so y'all have the AC down and a blanket on just to enjoy each others company

Almost like a casual date lol

Idk if these were good tbh, I feel like they're very general? IDK

[literary-motif]

I Don't Forgive You

Asirel Cain x Reader

Warnings: misogyny and profanities (you get to kill the guy that does it)

His sister's despicable ex shows up at Asriel's home. You get dinner.

“What?” Asirel asked curtly, picking up the phone.

His employee stammered, clearly taken aback by his harshness. Asirel was not usually this brash with the people working for him — being calm, collected, and polite fed his image better — but today his schedule was rather busy and he did not care to be inconvenienced by frivolous things. 

“There uh,” the employee cleared their throat nervously. He rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue impatiently. “There is a ‘Richard’ here to see you, sir.”

Asirel frowned, his eyes darting to his calendar. He had no meeting scheduled for today, least of all at his own home. “A what?” he huffed, distantly recalling the name being dropped in conversation before. 

Richard. It sounded familiar. His sister had talked about a Richard when they had last met.

“Send him up,” he said, placing down the telephone.

“Oh and Richard, that jock-type bad boy I was seeing?” she had said, waving her fork in the air between them as she got excited about spilling some tea. “He’s history. Never met a man that entitled in my life and that’s saying something considering the dudes I’ve met. Anyways—”

He had smiled fondly at her, continuing to eat the spaghetti as he listened to her talk about the cute woman she had met at the butcher shop. 

How had his sister’s ex found his way here?

The door to his study was thrown open violently, bouncing off the wall with a loud bang. A disheveled man stepped inside, not bothering with an introduction as he barged in.

He rubbed his forehead, already feeling a headache forming. He did not have time for this nonsense or whatever the hell this Richard wanted. He could see you standing in the doorway, silently hovering by Richard’s shoulder as you took in the scene before you and gave Asirel a raised eyebrow. 

You looked both incredulous and amused. ‘Who’s he?’ you mouthed, pointing to the guy and chuckling quietly at his behavior. Most of all, you were shocked at Asirel for allowing it. 

He rolled his eyes at your question.

“Listen, man,” Richard said, slamming his hands down on Asirel’s desk and looming over him in an effort to appear threatening. Out of the corner of his eyes, Asirel could see you slap a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing. Impassively, he continued to look at the Buffon in front of him as you licked your lips in anticipation. 

Oh, today you would have a feast.

“Listen, I don’t know what that bitch told you” — Asirel blinked, expression unreadable — “but I didn’t do shit to her, alright? She can come off her fucking high horse and call me back, yeah? Damn man, tell a woman to suck you off once and she gets all pissy, right?”

Your mouth hung open in shock, eyes wide as you looked at the Richard guy. Shit, the tea was real. Shit, oh that guy was dead. 

“That whore can’t tell me anything, yeah? Fucking slapped me when I pushed her to her knees, you hear me? Can’t believe I took her out for dinner for that. See, I’m a nice guy, but sometimes sluts just piss me off.”

Asirel did not betray his thoughts. 

The silence in the study was thick, laden with tension that the guy only now seemed to catch up on. His slight panting was the only thing breaking the silence as Asirel pinned him in place with a look. 

Richard suddenly grew uncomfortable as he took in the room around him, catching up to the fact that he was standing in Asirel’s quiet but threatening presence, whose aura seemed to darken with every second he breathed in his company.

He chuckled nervously. “Right, man?”

You could not contain your laughter anymore, snorting as you heard the guy’s heartbeat pick up in a sudden surge of fear. “Can I?” you asked, giddy with excitement as you tried your best to give Asirel convincing puppy eyes. “Oh please, I am literally begging you.”

“Just one moment,” Asirel said, slowly rising and taking one of his overflowing binders to slap it down on the guy’s hands, successfully getting them off his desk as Richard jumped back. He stared into the confused and fearful gaze of the scum sullying the peacefulness of his study.

For a moment, he contemplated ending Richard himself. 

It would be an easy thing. Asirel could beat him to death with one of the iron rods he used to tend to the fireplace beside him. He could probably beat him to death with his bare fists as well, watch as the life left his eyes and the useless jerk went limp in his grip for daring to talk about his sister in such a way.

He could kill Richard. Draw it out and have his screams of pain echo through the mansion until he tore his throat to shreds and all he could muster would be a strangled plea for mercy that Asirel longed to deny him.

He could do all that if he wanted to. 

Taking a breath, Asirel sat down again. “You’re not worth the effort,” he said, returning to his papers. “Don’t make too much of a mess,” he added as you stepped up to the guy, making him jump as he felt your breath on his neck. 

“What the fuck?” he exclaimed, trying to take a step back. You took hold of him, pushing him to the ground with no effort. 

His death was quicker than you’d liked, but Asirel did say not to make too much of a mess and the screaming and desperate pleading was annoying both of you. 

“Think I need an aspirin after that one,” you said, wiping the remnants of blood from your mouth. You were quite proud of yourself. Not a single drop of it had stained the carpet. 

“Agreed,” Asirel said, shuffling his papers.

“On a scale of one to ten though, he was maybe like a three?” you said, snatching some papers from his desk and disinterestedly leafing through them. “Tell your sister to get in touch with tastier people next time.”

“I’ll pass on the request.”

You laughed, tossing the papers back to him. Asirel reassembled the stack with a groan. “He had some balls showing up here.”

“He had no brain,” he said, resting his head on his hand and looking up at you sitting on the edge of his desk. “What kind of idiot thinks it is a good idea to seek out me to insult my sister? That is insane.”

“People are insane sometimes,” you said, stretching. “So, any crazy ex I need to be worried about when it comes to you?”

“Certainly not.” 

He fished out an aspirin, passing you the container. You took it in amusement, relishing that Asirel had not caught up on your joke. He would grunt at his absentmindedness come morning when you reminded him that drugs did not work on vampires. 

“I’ve never had the time for a relationship. You see how work takes up most of my life.” 

You hummed, running a hand through his hair, which he quickly batted away. “Good thing you’ve got me then, boss.”

“That’s not what you should call me.”

“Oh, I meant to tell you, but then I totally forgot. Sorry about that,” his sister would say the next time he called to check up on her, “I gave Richard your address. He wouldn’t stop bothering me and I honestly couldn’t take it anymore. Also, I thought your little pet would appreciate a home delivery, my treat.”

“They told me his blood left something to be desired and that you should choose your partners more carefully from now on.”

“Really? Well they’re not one to talk.”

“Play nice.”

[nexusnyx]

heyyy. so what if reader and joel got in a really big argument because he wasn’t being safe and putting his life on the line and that pissed her off. so joel gets on a horse, and rides off into the sunset in true cowboy fashion. when she’s on a supply run with some of the other people from tommy’s town, they find joel, injured and hiding out in a barn. she didn’t recognize him at first, and pointed her gun at him but when he’s like “it’s me.” she’s all like “for fuck’s sake, joel. i almost shot you.” “someone already did.” and yeah feel free to take that anywhere u want <3

that's such a cinematic idea!! you've got a good imagination, Sof. thanks for the request. — main masterlist | 🏷️: established 'situationship', post-outbreak, mentions of past attempted suicide, hurt/comfort, fluff. [WC: 1.7k]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ˗ˏˋ꒰ foolish ꒱

All of his recklessness had a direction. A purpose.

Joel had no reason to tend to his own life with careful hands. Not when those same hands had inflicted so much damage already. When they'd caused so much destruction. He knew how to direct his anger and reckless behavior well—to protect, evade, survive.

All of that kept him away from building any kind of real relations, but that goes up in flames after Ellie. And then it really disappears after you.

Joel's scared again. He panics. He cares, and he talks about himself, and he lets spill out secrets he never once spoke about.

He's just not ready for what comes after they're out in the open.

“I just can’t concentrate if I’m worried about you going in with your knuckles and elbows to someone’s fucking face instead of at least trying to keep it cool. y’know? I don’t know. Call me crazy, Joel. I thought you could control yourself.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. That just ain’t fair. Was I supposed to do nothin’?”

“Yes! Exactly. If you’d given me at least one second—”

“He asked if you up for offer. I should’ve fuckin’ killed, him.”

“Joel, he could’ve asked ‘if the little bitch worth a quarter or 10 bucks’ and I couldn’t give less of a shit—”

“You—I swear to god.”

“He’s an animal! And a fucking idiot. But he was the idiotic animal with the goddamn information. Which we needed. And now we don’t have, ‘cause he and his buddies have ran back to wherever the hell they’re hiding and we’re never gonna see them again. And they had the real deal—they had medicine we need that are lacking in the stock.”

“I know. I know. Fuckin’ hell, I know.”

“... you know I’d help you do anything you wanted, right? I don’t care about what they say. And I’d wanna kill anyone who disrespected you like that, too, but we gotta be at least smart before we’re emotional.”

“...Tommy’s gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

“No, he won’t. I’ll talk to him. Make something up.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I know. But I’m gonna.”

“...thank you. … I really am sorry, ‘kay? I’m still gettin’ used to—I just. I saw red.”

“And I get that.”

“...you really do, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Remember how I acted at that river trade? Because of what that man said about you?”

“Couldn’t forget it if someone blew my brains away. … You’re a lil’ crazy, baby, y’know that?”

“Coming from you, Miller. That’s rich.”

“Yeah… It’s kinda beautiful. You’re like—a force o’nature, or somethin’. Fuck, I’m sorry—I’m drunk—but listen. I won’t fuck up again.”

“I know you’ve got my back. I just want you to have yours, too. I worry about you and how you dive head first into dangerous shit ‘cause when it comes to you, you don’t think.”

“... had no reason to, ‘till recently.”

“Well, now you do. Should’ve always had, but now you really do ‘cause there are people, like Ellie, like Tommy, like me, who are gonna be pretty pissed off if you’re stabbed again anytime soon. Don’t make me go feral and have to kill a fucker ‘cause you know me by now. I have the whole thing where I have to bury the bodies I’m responsible for and, honestly—have pity on my back’s sake, Joel. I don’t got the back for that shit anymore.”

“You’re so—can’t believe your fuckin’ jokes sometimes.”

“You’re laughing.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m crazy too, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“‘don’t got the back for it’. You’re—You know, I never thought I’d be this happy I didn’t blow my brains out. Last time I thought that Ellie was standin’ on top of a fuckin’ dinosaur and—”

Joel shivered.

You found him as you were searching a barn on a supply run with Tommy, the day after he ran away on Shimmer’s back.

A stom had followed his departure, not minutes later, and he was still out of the gates when the time to close them came by, which meant he’d been locked out. Tommy was the one to give the ‘ok’ for the gatekeepers to shut them down, his face twisted into a painful twist and an apologetic look sent your way, but it was also Tommy who nodded his agreement to go with you when you announced you were going out the very next morning despite the horrible weather and the feet of snow making everything ten times harder.

It was obvious to you he couldn’t have gone far.

When you find him, Joel speaks up first. “It’s me.” He somehow heard you coming before you saw him.

Of course he did. It’s Joel.

The voice still makes you flinch—Joel was kneeling on the ground with his thickest jacket wrapped around him and his knees pulled up, and—”Jesus Christ, Joel. I almost fuckin’ shot you.”

As you’re lowering your gun, he goes. “It’s happened before.”

It’s such an oddly-timed joke that it halts your steps toward him, but then, his eyes find yours and it happens, just like always. You two share a private, ‘this is a fucked up joke, but we find it funny either way’ laugh. The same one that bonded you two.

You kneel beside him, taking out the blanket you brought in your backpack exactly for this, and wrap it around his shoulders, rubbing him up and down on his arms and his back.

When you’re satisfied with your job — he quit shivering — you finally make eye contact.

“You got stuck because of the storm, right?” your question comes out in a whisper, and your breath fogs up the air between the both of you.

You didn’t run away, right?

Joel takes a deep breath, and nods. His eyes close for a moment before he leans in slowly until his forehead is touching yours.

“Told you I wouldn’t do that.” Joel said those words a couple of months ago, and you still had trouble wrapping your head around them. I ain’t goin’ nowhere. I like it here. With you.

“‘kay.” Your lips search his in the dark and find them waiting for the kiss already. With your hands still on his shoulders, you can feel a lot of tension dissipating when you sigh into the kiss, and Joel seems to fully come back to his body. You pull away against your will, and take a few seconds before you’re able to open your eyes.

His warmth always spreads through you like an oven slowly heating up.

“‘m sorry if I scared you.”

It’s inevitable—a smile blossoms in your face, and you start laughing.

“What?” Joel asks, confused and serving the biggest doe eyes in your direction.

For someone who punched first and asked questions later, a night stuck with the howling story winds made quick work of reminding him he was cared for. “Nothing.” I love you. “You did scare me. I spent all night thinking about whether you were okay or not.” The doe eyes seem to glisten with the soft light, and it pulls you in to seal your lips on his again. “But it’s ok. I just wanna go now and run you a hot bath and massage… all of your body. Is that ok? Can I do that?”

Joel’s eyes said I’ve never felt more vulnerable and that’s going to be a lot, but it also said it’s exactly what I need and I don’t know how to say that out loud. From his lips, it came out, “I… yeah. Yeah, ya can. I wanna… Wash your hair. And—you. ‘s that weird?”

“It’s not.”

“I like that smile on you. ‘s my favorite.”

“I am so happy I left Tommy behind.” Joel laughs at that, and he makes a move to get up. “I’m serious. We’d never hear the end of this.”He gets up with your help, and you two can walk side by side, leaning on each other and not speak of the storm that passed and carried more than just heavy snow all around. The things that are rising and growing between you are deep-rooted somewhere—nothing seems to shake you and Joel away. Only closer together. Tighter. Realer.

🏷 @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeiaaa — @levylovegood — @simply-sams-things — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 — @averysblog — @pedrostories — @fleursirvart — @sirtommyholland — @capbrie — @hawsx3 — @superflymaterial — @ashleyforeverareject — @girlofchaos — @queerponcho — @am-3-thyst — @nyotamalfoy — @my-tearsricochet — @ponyboys-sunsets — @peqchsoup

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ* . join my Fireplace celebration. * | send me mail 💌

[teddybeartoji]

"I HUNGER TO COMMIT THE ACT OF TOUCH" HEADCANONS

here are some facts about prince!gojo and knight!reader and sugu and shoko!!!! some of these might've been mentioned in the previous parts but i just wanted to go over them anyway!! also some of these are very random but they feel right so i needed to add them hihihi enjoyy!!

+ the "i hunger to commit the act of touch" masterlist

`♡、THE PRINCE

— a sensitive, sensitive boy; cries easily.

— touch starved out of his mind; his mother kisses his forehead and his cheek and suguru's arms more often than not falls around the prince's shoulders but he needs more.

— very curious; he loves going outside, he loves people staring, he loves learning (dislikes reading though bc that can be a bit boring).

— hates staying inside the castle; has escaped into the forest behind the estate many-many times (usually suguru is the one to bring him back).

— gets cold easily.

— his eyes are also sensitive - the reason why he has to wear a blindfold; he doesn't like it though. so he often goes out into the blinding sun without it and later bares the terrible migraines because of it. he says it's worth it.

— hates his father but adores his mother.

— is actually very devoted to becoming a good king; he loves the town and the people a lot and he wants to take care of them.

— he loves all of the kids in the town aswell; they play ball and have tea-parties together.

— he loves hot cocoa.

— he has brought in a lot of stray cats; they all run around the castle freely and the king hates it (the prince doesn't care).

— the maids and the servants of the castle absolutely love him!!! he takes good care of them!!!! treats them like family and loves joking around with them.

— once fell down some stairs and just laughed it off.

— he's really good with a sword and he likes to fight!! he often spars with suguru and he just thinks it's so exciting and fun.

— he has known suguru almost all his life and he cares for him very deeply (the feeling is mutual).

— the prince has only been taught soft touches all his life so he kind of seeks out action and violence to feel something New.

— also loves shoko a lot a lot a lot. he thinks that she's just so cool and their humor is very similar which sometimes pisses suguru off. which in turn just makes them laugh even more. it's a vicious cycle.

— is absolutely enamored with the knight. they're the fresh breath of air that he's been missing from his royal life and he's determined to keep them in it forever.

— does know how to speak like a proper prince but thinks it's very funny to swear and make dirty jokes.

— despises the smell of alcohol.

— gets attached rather easily. they can't get the knight out of his head for the life of him (he isn't even trying).

— loves flowers of any and every kind; buys them regurarly for his friends and his mother.

— he, of course, has a snow white horse (his name is John?).

— is terribly terribly eager to please. he just wants to be good.

— would gladly get into a real fight just for the thrill of it.

`♡、THE KNIGHT

— rough and scarred hands.

— they used to live in the same town but moved away when they were twelve.

— they know shoko; she was their best friend until they left.

— used to get slashings and beatings from the castle guards because they were hell-bent on taking the blame for just about every other stray kid in the town. they were just trying to protect them...

— just as touch starved as the prince but unlike the latter - they're more afraid to seek it out. let me rephrase - they don't seek it out, quite the opposite - they're more likely to pull away at genuine touch than to accept it.

— but as a protector, it is part of their job to offer their hand to people. a helping hand to pull the prince back onto his feet, a helping hand to wipe the blood from his face, a helping hand to get him onto the horse, a helping hand to keep him from falling - it's just what they're supposed to do. they also need more - just like the prince.

— they're determined that they're scary and that everybody should stay away from their bloody hands and their scarred face (they're wrong).

— confused about their feelings; only being familiar with anger and bitterness - everything else comes as a complete surprise.

— a brutal fighter - blood and guts are nothing new to them. nor are beheadings and dismemberment, slit throats and bashing in faces. if that's what it takes to save a person - they'll do it without a second thought.

— very very good with a sword. they've been carrying that thing around for years now and it feels a bit weird to be without it.

— despite the way they act towards the prince - they do think he's gonna be a great king. they're mostly just jealous.

— loyal to the Cause even though they don't even exactly know what the cause it. is it protecting people? is it running away from them? is it just violence?

— they act tough as shit but inside they just want to be held. well, first they want to get over the fear of being held.

— they can't wait to see shoko again. they might be a bit nervous but ever since seeing the doctor and hearing that she's in fact well and is now living in the castle??? they can't wait to see her little smile.

— they want to hate the prince. but they can't (they're not even trying).

— a big scar running across their eye. it makes them look badass. and hot.

— the armor they wear is a bit rusted but good nonetheless. it has carvings on the front and the back.

— clearly has some sort of authority issues.

— cats really like them. they always come up to them in the town, swirling around between their legs and purring. they always smile back at the kitties.

— loves eating bread.

— picks at their scabs and wounds all the time; shoko always slapped their fingers when she saw them doing it bc that is a really fucking bad thing to do especially with dirty hands... they can't help it though.

— is surprisingly (it's not surprising at all) popular with the brothel ladies. they always seem to try and invite them in and it's one of the few things that actually manages to fluster the knight.

— thinks that the prince acts like a child, like a puppy and no matter how much they try to convince themself that they think he's annoying - it just doesn't work. the prince is the only one who's gotten a smile that big out them anyway.

`♡、SUGURU

— the prince took him in when he was just a kid; convinced the queen that suguru should stay and well who is the queen to say no to her little prince - they've been inseperable ever since.

— trained to be a knight so he can take care of his best friend.

— cares for the prince a lot A Lot (probably a little bit too much).

— the prince and suguru fooled around when they were younger and they got caught once; the prince managed to sway the king with the argument that he was the one who made suguru do it - suguru felt very bad after that incident and tried to distance himself from the prince but it didn't work. the prince was clinging to him like his life depended on it and soon after that everything was almost back to the way it was before.

— very good friends with shoko; they often sit in the tavern together after a long day.

— has a sensitive nose and the prince likes to tease him about it.

— likes sparring with the prince - he's stronger and better but he lets the prince win sometimes because he likes his smile.

— when he does decide to keep his win - straddling the prince while holding the sword to his throat - his own smile shines so bright that the prince thinks he's gonna get a migraine just from that.

— massages the prince's face whenever he has a migraine. his hands are almost magical, he's too good at it.

— all of the cats that the prince has brought in fucking love him.

— he also lives in the castle!!! he has his own room and it's very close to the prince's one. you know.. for safety reasons.

— loves drinking tea.

— sometimes shares a few smokes with shoko but he keeps glancing over his shoulder to make sure that the castle people or the other knights can't see him. the prince always sighs very dramatically when they smoke.

— knows all of the prince's hiding spots in the forest.

— the three of them have gone skinny dipping together (the prince screamed like a little girl when a piece of kelp touched his leg).

— even though he is a knight of the castle, he - just like the others, is not a fan of the king or his ways. they all think that he's a cruel old man and they're all ready to help the prince become a better king.

— he understands the knight like nobody else.

— gets along with the queen really really well and shoko constantly teases him about it by saying that she has a teeny tiny crush on him. suguru always gets flustered by that (he's just very well-mannered okay).

— accidentally once heard the king say that he should cut his hair ("it's not suitable for a knight") and is now more than ever determined to never cut it.

— has a black horse and takes really good care of it!!!!

— likes to read whenever he has a free moment. which isn't too often, so he usually reads during the night in the moonlight.

`♡、SHOKO

— childhood friends with the knight; neither of them had a home and had to take care of each other.

— a doctor took her in and began teaching her so she'd become her apprentice.

— always patched the young knight up after a fight or a beating.

— she was very upset when the knight left.

— around the age of 16/17, a prince with a bloody knee and a teary eyed little soon-to-be-knight knocked on the doctors door - they made her put bandages on his knee and they've been friends ever since.

— now lives in the castle; the prince got her her own room with a little balcony. they all often eat breakfast together there.

— learned how to use a bow just for the fun of it.

— braids the prince's hair when she's bored.

— the cats also love her. there's one that always sleeps in her room and on her bed. she named the cat Horse (suguru has never rolled his eyes so dramatically).

— she misses her childhood friend terribly; she thinks about them a lot.

— mainly lives a very quiet life and doesn't really interact with the other people in the castle. she also fucking hates the king.

— has a big scar on her lower back from her days on the streets. it was the one time where the knight had to patch her up, hence the "ugly" scar. she doesn't think it's ugly though, she quite likes it actually. she flexes it to the prince, calling herself a tougher guy than him. the prince pouts at that every time.

— the only other person she talks to in the castle is one of the maids. she has a scar across her face and shoko thinks she looks beautiful. shoko also thinks it's very funny when she cusses out the prince. shoko likes to play with her hair.

— is surprisingly bad at riding horses. she tried it twice and fucking hated it so she never did it again.

— works at the doctor's office. not full-time because she likes to just Be but she is very interested in blood and guts and wounds so she genuinely loves the job.

— used to be a regular at the brothel but ever since she met the scarred pretty little maid - she hasn't stepped a foot back in there.

[rongzhi]

what do you think about the fact that people are always arguing about the morals of the Chinese government in your replies when you just post vids of people being cute and funny?

That's just the Chinese-specific reality of being a POC or non-Western European person on the internet I think.

One simply learns where to dodge the psychic blasts of casual racism and xenophobia and whatnot. Sure, it still pisses me off sometimes but more often than not it's in a "you guys are so stupid" way. A "why the fuck are you sitting on such a high horse inside a house of glass" way. It is what it is.

I don't internalise literally anything (LOL) but it makes me :\ as well because I know some people see the rhetoric on these normal ass posts and do feel bad and can't help but take it a little personally, which sucks because they're just trying to chill and watch dumb haha videos on the internet. Nobody wants to be reminded that there are people out there who hate them and literally (pardon the pun) see red at the most harmless reminder of their existence.

Ah but I forgot... They just hate the government. "Just the government". Right right. That's why it was necessary to race to bring it up under a random post unrelated to the government. Abolish the idea that anyone manage to humanise the brainwashed robots being puppeteered by the eViL cEEcEEpEE for even one COVID-negative second, right? Makes sense.

[hxjikonn]

(Artist: @/haaaaaaaannn on twtr)

Second Years Headcannons that I strongly believe is true:

☆Staring☆: Riddle Rosehearts, Ruggie Bucchi, Kalim Al-asim, Jamil Viper, Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech and Silver

Synopsis: Headcannons with the Second Years cuz why not?

Kalim has a habit of clinging to the Floyd or Jade’s leg, why? The two don’t find it annoying, just amusing.

Floyd can get too amused though…one time he started wiggling his leg really quickly to see how long Kalim would stay stuck to it💀

Jamil got him to let go before he flew across the room dw

Floyd like putting stuff on Jamil’s hood, like whenever he’d pass him or sit behind him at a class he’d put something in there, Jade sometimes join in too and put mushrooms inside his hood.

One time Silver and Riddle convinced Azul to ride a horse…..don’t worry he didn’t fall off…in fact he couldn’t let it go😭😭😭 My guy was holding on for dear life

They both had to chase him and the horse to who knows where…anyone within a mile could hear Azul’s cries for help

Azul’s new fear: Unlocked: Horses.

Silver likes Jade…cuz Jade made Mushroom Risotto once while studying different mushroom dishes

Ruggie finds Silver asleep almost anywhere, He thinks Silver and Leona would become great friends if there weren’t so many birds flocking around Silver all the time💀

Silver pats Ruggie’s head thinking he’s one of the animals who comes to him when he’s still half asleep and doesn’t realize what he’s doing

Jamil, Ruggie and Jade have secret club where they complain about the people they take care of 😭

Riddle hides inside Kalim’s cardigan when Floyd chases him around and Kalim finds it endearing and funny

Jade took Kalim and Jamil mushroom searching once (Kalim volunteered and Jamil got pulled in cuz he cant leave Kalim alone with Jade)

Jamil looked away for one second, suddenly Kalim was high on mushrooms and Jade was looking that the mushroom that he bit into 😭😭😭

“WHY DID YOU PUT IT IN YOUR MOUTH KALIM??!” “Oh! Jamil look it’s a genie~” “that’s Jade….”

Silver helps Riddle with anger management 😭😭😭 “it’s okay Riddle, just hear the birds and bees…” “All I can hear are bees and it’s pissing me off…”

Whenever Jamil and Azul pass or meet each other Floyd plays the Keeping up with the Kardashian’s drama background music💀

Whenever Floyd passes by sleeping Silver he’d either balance something on top of Silver’s head or write on his face and walk away satisfied

Silver once considered making a contract with Azul to make Lilia’s cooking bearable💀💀💀

Whenever the Second years would be grouped together there’s never a dull moment…literally anything and everything that could happen is either already happening or will happen soon enough

Silver can surprisingly sleep through the chaos though🥹

A/N: Mostly Crack and is a lot shorter than most of my previous works but this was a lot more funny to make. But the tags were a pain😭😭😭

[misrepresentedmorallygrey]

PROPAGANDA

Goro Akechi

have you seen this man. the fandom doesn't seem to grasp that he can have a "good" goal but still go about it absolutely the wrong way. he's not baby but he's not evil incarnate either, he's just 18. being 18 is just like that

People who are like "he's an irredeemable psychopath who became a serial killer just because he has daddy issues" piss me off. People who are like "he's the only person who ACTUALLY cares about the Protagonist and all of the Protagonist's other friends are fakes and users" piss me off even more. He's a foil for the entire main cast. He has faced all of their traumas with none of the support. He believes that he's responsible for his mother's suicide, and that he's unlovable. He was abandoned by everyone. He made some bad decisions when he was like 14, and his abusive father manipulated him into being a hitman. He lies all the damn time, so you can't really tell when he's being genuine or not. He's a double agent who befriends you and then tries to kill you, believes that he's succeeded, and shows absolutely no remorse. He dies to save your life (and then gets sorta resurrected and then dies again to literally save the world). It's complicated! He's complicated!

Loki

hes just like that

He is not the Norse equivalent of the Devil! People keep trying to fit Norse mythology into a Christian mindset and that's NOT RIGHT!! Loki is complex. They're mischievous and some things are bad and some things are good and sometimes they are just a chaotic being that has sex with a horse.

I just think it’s funny that someone submitted this already, and I kind of want to see where that goes

[splatooshy]

tvdu headcanons

yes these are completely correct, no i do not take criticism. either compliment me and my clever thoughts or walk away.

damon

- pretends his initials stand for ‘damon fucking salvatore.’

- Humanity isn’t something Damon lacks. He ignores it sometimes, but he did that when he was human too

- shy. so PAINFULLY shy. that didn’t change until post 70s.

- fav colour is jade green.

- born in italy, then lily had multiple miscarriages over 5 years and giuseppe decided they would move to america for better prospects, and stefan was born in mf.

- giuseppe despised anything ‘foreign’, and would lock damon in the cellar when he slipped up. never mind that damon didn’t really know any english.

- named his first horse (a shetland pony) sir handsome. loved his horses. hated people, loved animals.

- bibliophile. brains over brawn.

- gets banned from new orleans every few decades. marcel HATES him. also was in nola in 1914, freya and kol both took pity on him/ befriended damon after he managed to piss off the witches AND marcel in one day.

- always had the most inconvenient crushes as a human. the first was the daughter of some middle class storekeeper when he was eight. the second was emily bennett (his secret bff) and the third was a dude with a horse when he was a teenager. stablehand/riding instructor/ young gent passing through, named sebastian. giuseppe caught the boys fooling around one day and promptly shot sebastian in the head, before beating damon within an inch of his life (WOAH I WROTE THIS SO CASUALLY). damon never fully recovered.

- finds grimoires to bring to his favourite witch at the time. often the spells are super wacky and mostly useless.

- chatty and clingy drunk.

- after augustines, physically cant sleep alone, and half the time wakes up only to realise he’s killed his bedpartner (strangling, decap., suffocation etc.)

- in the 30s, he became a professional dancer.

stefan

- fav colour is an icy, glacial blue.

- nobody knows what his first language is. His first few words were either Italian or French, but it’s not certain which one. of course, giuseppe locked damon in the cellar for that.

- first horse was sir handsome, a hand-me-down from damon. loved both people and animals, but most of all loved when damon was introducing him to the animals.

- actually the cutest little child ever. big green eyes and floppy blonde-ish hair. looked like a five-year-old until he was 13? 14? and then suddenly shot up really quick.

- bull in a china shop. brawn over brains.

- the ‘ripper’ was created by lexi. she isolated and abused stefan, manipulating him into whatever she wanted.

- chronic migraine sufferer.

- as a human, he physically could not eat when nervous, which just so happened to be 80% of the time.

- rarely gets drunk but is a very outgoing and slutty drunk.

- lizard brain blood lusty ripper stefan only speaks italian.

- model aeroplane / train / car kind of guy.

- tumbled down into a well twice as a human.

- built the engine for the first automobile, passed it onto henry ford.

enzo

- likes the challenge of getting his way without resorting to compulsion (which is cheating.)

- has the stickiest fingers. he didn’t become a little street urchin in london without picking up some skills.

- turned by jack the ripper in 1888. approached him mid-murder.

- physically incapable of hating damon. and believe me, he’s tried.

- after augustines, physically cant sleep alone, and half the time wakes up only to realise he’s killed his bedpartner (strangling, decap., suffocation etc.)

klaus

- went to college a few times to study art. ended up stabbing the teacher [with a paintbrush] because they critiqued his work.

- was tsar nicholas 2 as a joke, purposely ended the dynasty.

elijah

- slipped ecstasy into klaus’ drink in the 80s just to see what would happen.

rebekah

- had a habit of accidentally wandering as a kid.

- clairvoyant / clairsentient.

- very partial to throwing knives.

kol

- bffs with charles 2, gets knighted (inspired by that episode of parks and rec where ben and andy meet the rich british guy)

- refers to stefan as klaus’ estranged paramour

- mixes vervain and wolfsbane into joints and such to get klaus to chill the fuck out. and mixing vervain into other drugs and stuff so that they’d affect him - damon joins the operation in 1914.

- was jack the ripper in 1888, saw a man drowning in his own blood in an alleyway, just watching as kol disemboweled a prostitute, before approaching him like ‘please sir, can you spare any change?’ and kol was delighted.

- damon pissed off marcel in 1914 and kol decided at that moment they were best friends.

- BIG fan of the ottoman empire. it only collapsed because kol was daggered.

- has grimoires full of odd spells.

alaric

- owns vervain coated knuckle dusters

- basically begs damon to talk history with him.

elena

- pre-accident: queen bee and she knew it. at her core, she is self-centred and used to getting her way. this only changes with her parents’ accident, but eventually elena reverts back into her old self.

- refers to katherine as her identical grandmother

[ - bitchy stares. not even an rbf, her face is just super expressive and you can tell when she’s judging you ]

caroline

- was second to elena all her life, and elena knew how to fuel that envy of caroline’s. but then elena’s parents died and caroline was finally #1, except stefan shows up and it’s back to the elena show again.

[ - well-meaning but tone deaf ]

both elena and caroline are just those bitchy popular girls.

[ bonnie ]

[ i have so many for her but a lot are completely against canon so here’s the ones that could be ]

[ - best cheerleader on the squad // the older girls adopted her as their flyer from day 1 ]

[ - because she’s tiny, yanno? ]

[ - known as the ‘i dunno her but she seems nice’ one, the ‘quiet, seems really sweet but i think she hates me’ one and ‘elena’s minion’ ]

[ - but she’s actually more popular overall ‘cause she does all the volunteering / xtra curricular stuff with caroline and she’s not in your face about it ]

[ - has very weirdly specific daily rituals as to what she eats and when on which day (waffle wednesday), what pyjamas she wears, how her pillows are arranged, etc. ]

[ - she didn’t even notice she did all of that until she was at a sleepover and the other kid’s mum made a different breakfast to what she would usually have on that day and bonnie was like ‘hmm. i seem to be uncomfortable with this. why is that?’ but sucked it up and ate her breakfast without saying anything ]

[tvgals]

‘ GOOD GRIEF ! ‘

pavitr prabhakar x black! fem! reader

— the two times pav could’ve confessed to you and the one time he did .

Ⅰ.

the time you two were at the park . —

you and pavitr were walking down the street towards the park eating ice cream. “then hobie came out of nowhere! it was crazy!” your bestfriend says, waving his hands around for dramatics. “really? y’know, pav, sometimes i can’t help but want to see you in action.” you smile, biting the top of the cone to get access to the rest of the ice cream. “maybe one of these days, y/n.” pavitr grins, leaning into your frame. “hopefully.” you giggle.

while you two were making your way to the benches seated inside the park, pavitr couldn’t help but stare at you. you were so…majestic? is that the right word to use? or does that make you sound weird…like you were a horse or something…maybe he should just blurt out his feelings now then run away..before he could open his mouth, pavitr’s train of thought was interrupted when you snapped a few times in his face, a smile on your own. “hellloooooo? i asked you a question!” you laughed — a frazzled look on his face. “oh..yeah, yeah! i agree!” pavitr tried to cover up his embarrassment with fake sneezing. “you had to sneeze this whole time?” you ask, cocking a brow. “yep!”

Ⅱ.

the time you called him . —

pavitr looked down from brushing his teeth to his phone ringing ‘y/n 🌟’ it read. he immediately spit out the remaining toothpaste in his mouth and picked up the phone. “y/n!” pav answered, “pavi’!” you replied, a grin on your face. “what’s up?” pavitr asked, washing his face off.

“just wanted someone to talk to while i got ready for bed.” you shrugged, tying your bonnet in the back then pouring moisturizer onto your hand. “glad to be that someone. so what’s up? anything new happening in the oh so interesting life of y/n?” he asked, walking into his room and plopping onto his bed as he listens to your spiel of stories about people that pissed you off, or something funny that happened — and all pavitr does is stare at you with love.

after almost an hour of being on the phone already, the two of you agreed to fall asleep on the phone — you falling asleep first. once pav made sure you were asleep (by calling your name multiple times) he fell asleep himself. but not without a whisper of, “i love you.”

Ⅲ.

the time he confessed . —

you and pav were staying after school to finish homework together, although he claims he could’ve done it in “1.2 seconds” he decided to wait on you. “so..i carry the two..” you ask, looking up at pavitr with those beautiful eyes of yours. “no, no, no, you carry the six, the three stays there.” pavitr points to the numbers on the paper. you threw your head back in annoyance and groaned; “this is too hard! i don’t get it, pavi’!” pavitr looks at you and starts giggling uncontrollably, doubling over in laughter.

“why are you laughing?!” you ask, brows furrowed in confusion. pav takes a deep breathe and whispers out — “you’re so cute, i can’t help it!” and he starts his uncontrollable fit of laughter again, wiping tears from his eyes. “cute? you call me not being able to do math cute?” you ask accusingly, crossing your arms. “yeah,” pavitr started once again, “i just — i just love you so much!” pavitr said, his laughter dying down. you stare in shock. he loved you? seriously? “really?” you ask picking the hangnails off of your fingers.

“yes, really!” “oh. well, i love you too.”

[tojitsukaisen]

Dramatically in love with you.

Toji x reader

genre: flufffff fluff fluff i need more Toji fluff

warnings: none, a tiny little bit suggestive at the end.

notes: hi, this is my first ever fic, i've never really written anything like this, so I hope you like it. let me know in the comments. no i will not apologize for the cringe title. oh yah the reader is a bit oc (ok just me) but i hope it's still relatable. hope you enjoy lovelies

Toji swears he loves you. He loves you so much he puts up with your weird domestic habits. He puts up with the fact that you leave cupboard doors open after you’ve used them as if it doesn’t even occur to you to close them as your mind is already focusing on your next task. He puts up with the fact that he’s bonked his head more than once on those damn things when he steps into the kitchen. He doesn’t say a word when you leave clumps of your hair on the shower walls. He only curses inwardly when steps on yet another fucking bobby pin. He doesn’t consider himself a neat freak; he’s lived, slept, ate and shat in a whole lot worse, so he puts up with a bruise here and a sore toe there. He deals with your high-pitched screams and the fact that he is yet again on jar-duty as he chases a spider through your shared apartment.

Domesticity the way you present it is something foreign to him. While your warm personality sharply contrasts his stoic demeanor, your brazenness is something you two have in common. You don’t hold back on who you are, and he doesn’t really mind the fact that you piss with the bathroom door open sometimes, while continuing some inane story about your day, or that you don’t bother going outside to fart. He honestly loves you and your little quirks and the fact that he gets to call you home. His cute little girlfriend who broke down his walls and managed to sledgehammer through them with your bold moves, your kind eyes, your sharp tongue always followed by a loud laugh, the strokes of your fingers on his calloused hands and his scar-littered body, the morning kisses and the daily effort you put into making sure he feels loved and cared for as well. He swears he will love you until the day he gets dragged into death by the ankles. And beyond that.

He's reminding himself of all these things while fighting the urge to groan, roll his eyes, and throw a pillow at the TV that’s currently displaying a drama series you’re rewatching for the umpteenth time, and with one sharp look from you he’s reminded that he lost that fight.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” you pout at Toji.

“Ya know before ya got here I used to watch actual good shit, right? Something that’s actually fucking interesting. Not this yappy supernatural cry fest.”

“Okay, grandpa. I bet those horse races were real titillating.” You spit back sarcastically.

Toji tsk’s as a response and kicks your feet off the coffee table and reaches for his beer. It never ceases to make you laugh how your 6 feet tall tank of a boyfriend can throw tiny temper tantrums like these. You pause the show and go to retrieve your pillow.

“If it bothers you so much, I can watch it on my laptop, and you can watch the news or some old people program like bingo or some-“

“It’ just..” he interrupts you “I don’t get why she kept that information from him when she knew she was pregnant at the time.” He lectures while pointing his beer at the TV.

“I- what?”

“The chick from the show! I get that he’s an asshole, but you’d think she’d get off ‘er fucking high horse an’ tell him about the pregnancy, definitely knowing she’s cursed or some shit, wasn’t that her? The one who got cursed last season? Or was that the evil twin sister or something? I can’t fucking listen for one more second about how- what?”

You can’t control your giggles as you hop into a squat on the couch next to him and poke his cheek.

“The fuck you laughing at, brat?” he warns.

Your giggles die down a bit before you crawl over to him and he instinctively places his hands around your waist and pulls you into his lap.

“You’re such a cute hypocrite, Toji. My big strong scary man who supposedly only likes serious content” you chuckle.

“ ‘s not my fault you put this shit on every day, it gets in my head”

“Yeah okay. ‘s not like you're actually invested” you grin at him.

He snorts at that. “You’re a fucking headache, y’know that, sweetheart” he sighs while kissing the top of your head.

You lean into him and smile into his broad tobacco scented chest.

“Yeah right back at ya, dollface”.

Oh, he swears he’s going to wipe that smile off your face later that night when he gets his payback in the bedroom. Or the dinner table. Or the couch after just one more episode. So, for now, however..

“Put the damn show back on, so I can at least know how this shit plays out."

You stifle a laugh as you shuffle in his lap so you’re facing the TV and you press play.

He swears he hates these things, he really does. He’s not invested. He’s putting up with your weird habits. Because god, does he love you. And maybe your dumb little drama series as well.