#how can this be compared.. JUDGED?? against anything else??

[tutuandscoot]

This has got to be some of the most raw, emotionally beautiful practice footage there is of them. Is it even a practice? or is it a performance? or is it the most human, physical visualisation of two intrinsically connected souls communicating with each other??? I honestly don’t know, but I love it.

I’m the first to justify literally everything they do that seems unconventional for a supposed platonic relationship with the basic facts of the work and care they put into building trust and respect. But the amazing thing about what they do is you can not know all that, or know it all and just ignore it and watch them dance. Believe whatever you want to believe-whatever story they themselves are seemingly entranced in.. so let’s do that this time.

The way she falls on that 4th piano key. A legitimate trust fall- she falls so far off before he makes contact with her. The actual reaction in both of them, feeling the heavy weight of struggles they are navigating. How once she falls and he takes her weight, that causes his blades to slide open and back, his head inclined to look at her as if there’s nothing he can do but carry her through her pain.

The dynamics of the first lift. I’ll confidently say their lifts are so stunning because T is doing so much more work than any other girl does in lifts, she literally initiates the whole thing with her momentum, then the almost, stormy ocean current-like shifts in dynamics between the spin to her throwing and almost falling again back in his arms to again thrown up over his shoulders.. but it happens so seamlessly because they are both so strong.

The freaking dancing in their circle step sequence.. I don’t give two fucks about the skating they are doing- I know it’s amazing and I have all the respect in the world for them as technically brilliant skaters, but the skating is the blade in contact with the ice, above that, and the way they skate.. they are dancing. They are Ice. Dancing. Even when they don’t have their eyes on each other their eyes are still somehow on each other.. when thy look away they are still connected.. it’s so god damn intimate. What audience? If there was ever a program that proved they shut all the 7billion or so people on this earth out when they dance it’s this one. The suspension following Scott’s twizzle at the centre back of the rink and he reaches out to the front, only momentarily entertaining the idea that anyone else is actually there to save them. The way they play with the music as if making certain notes freeze in time, then race to catch others like their lives depend on it.

Even when they break.. the way they take a good 5 seconds to stay in that bubble, the way he gently fondles with her.. like with their hug just settling their heart beats back down, coming back to each other to refocus while still connected to the yearning violin drawing them back to start again.

Then just as they dipped briefly out of character, letting the story overtake them and they phase back into it in that beautifully soft little cradley hug, spinning in their shared energy as the lyrics start to emphasise what their bodies are yearning for each other, the movement signifying them stumbling over their own two feet as the other is their save them.

The exquisite, time standing still pause as the whole arena breathes with them, realising the euphoria flooding them as finally their stunning smiles emerge.

I don’t know if anyone has noticed at this point, but this pause, only along with twizzles are the only times they have been out of contact with each other. They stretch and intertwine like elastic silks, their limbs only an extension of each others.

That minuscule throw where Tessa becomes airborne, only for her feet barely to touch the ice as she’s intentionally dropped back, not at the mercy of his control, but their own energies saving each other’s whether in the air or on the cold ice.

Then taking off, he like an eagle with her flying on his back. Landing again and her being tossed around because euphoric happiness isn’t all light and gentle- the essence of their love is that physical expression of which part of the fun is seeing how far they can push the boundaries of movement together.

Joining in an expansive waltz hold which should look so out of place in a contemporary routine but instead represents how their closeness and bond remains as they navigate through life taking them all directions- holding each other close just to almost completely release, only their fingertips left in contact, to pull each other in again as they grasp for their person.

That brief moment where he has to chase after her in the middle of a required technical step sequence, they are now just dancing. What audience? what coaches? what other skaters? are they- TS even here? As if dna under a microscope- they are just two lost souls who found each other in this big wide world.. communicating the best way they know how, doing the thing that brings them the most passionate joy in this life.

Tessa arching up to the heavens in their straight lift, thanking whatever powers brought them together.. embedded in music the slightest sound of angelic choir voices during that lift as she exhales.

The music then settling as they too quieten down. That last spiralling lift, expansive to nestled.. them both almost folding around each other in a foetal-like position as she hangs on closing off the world around them. Wanting to be as close as they can he reaches down to give her the most gentle little kiss on the first spot he reaches.

It truly brings tears to my eyes.. how special they must feel in a moment like that. Her unable to do anything but hang on and he confirms the magic of that moment with a gesture far too intimate to be considered platonic. But in these moments that label means nothing to them.. what is any label you can put on a feeling this special?. In the middle of a rehearsal for a competitive program, at a competition with a result so important in their plan for 2018.. let alone completing their gold collection. In this moment none of that matters, nothing else in existence matters except them in their little world. I can only imagine, for her in that moment spinning in her lil tucked position, being met with a kiss she has no control over receiving. Receiving it from someone she trusts with her life, she knows exactly what that kiss means in the context of who it’s coming from, but also in that moment it has no meaning, it is just an expression of overwhelming love.. how freaking loved must she feel in that moment??

As they come to a stop, not reaching the end of their journey, but just another step in realising their essential role in each other’s existence, these two.. sometimes emotionally disturbed (borrowing that from their description of Stay), maybe even by their own emotions together, have made it though another chapter alive, safe, still in each other’s arms.

Laying her back she takes one last exhale, him resting on her beating chest, hopefully in time with his own.

Yes, this was just a practice.. just another run of their FD. These two great athletes, this terrifying, formidable team… so good their practice just becomes a conversation.. just them communicating, synchronising, feeling anything and everything they want to feel.

[onmykneesformatt]

🍒cherry candy🍒 -m.s.

synopsis: one of your biggest insecurities is matt’s favorite thing in the entire world. so what happens when you go on a shopping spree?

warnings: SMUT, softdom!matt, fem!reader, no use of y/n, semi-public sex, PRAISING OH MY LORDDDTT, unprotected p in v (safe sex is great sex, betta wear a latex), boob play for DAYS, mentions of body dysmorphia, i don’t think anything else???

a/n: this is a lil slow but i'm hoping y'all like it anyways >-<. y’all were HEAVY on the tittyguy!matt shit, so i decided to treat y’all and give y’all a fic😛🍒🌺 ENJOY SLUTS!!🍒🎀🌺

“let’s start at target! they have those billie eilish shirts for her newest album!”

you giggled like a little girl, practically skipping into the target while holding matt’s pinky.

“alright, your choice.” he smiled, happy that you’re finally getting out of the house more.

you’ve been staying inside for the past couple weeks.

he picked up on signs that it was about something someone might’ve said at your family reunion. he loved your body, and he thought anyone who didn’t was insane.

you admitted to him after the first week straight of not having sex or even being half-naked around him while getting dressed everyday.

-

“what’s up with you? you used to love putting on fashion shows every morning while changing, but you haven’t for, what? two weeks now? it’s so cute, and i love it. what’s wrong?”

“it’s nothing.”

“it’s something.”

he stood up from the edge of the bed to stand in toe-to-toe with you, your back almost touching the closet door.

“uhm.. i-“

“you can tell me, pretty girl. i wont judge you.”

“mhm, okay. well, do you remember my dads side of the family?”

“oh, god.”

he scoffed, knowing what you were about to say.

“well, at the family reunion, they wouldn’t stop bringing up how i was looking ‘more exposed’ than a college girl should, and kept staring at my boobs. i didn’t take any of it to heart at first, but then my cousins started whispering to eachother. i mean, i get it, i might’ve gained some weight since the last reunion, but it still hurts. and i can only imagine how they felt seeing my thighs and stomach. i went swimming! they practically saw everything they needed to make fun of me!”

he grabbed your waist, pulling you into a hug against his chest while you caught your breath.

“baby. are you kidding? do you know how often i imagine myself between those thighs while i’m at meetings? how i love pressing on your stomach to push you closer against me when i’m behind you? and, oh my god. those boobs. i would lay on them all day if i could. have you ever noticed how when we’re laying down, my hands just ‘happen’ to move up to your chest? or when you’re.. y’know.. on top of me, i use them to relieve ‘stress’?”

he was helpful whenever it came to compliments. more than helpful.

“i know. but almost every girl in my family has the perky, slim look. i don’t think i’m overweight or anything, but compared to them i must look huge.”

matt shook his head at your comment, knowing that no matter what you wore, you looked like a goddess to him.

“you’re not, baby. you’re perfect.”

he backed up, having a cheesy grin on his face. the same face he makes when he’s about to say something funny but kind of corny.

“i mean, you’re like cherry candy to me.”

you giggled, wiping away the light tears on your face.

you felt safe again.

the morning after, you started doing your fashion shows again. matt smiled knowing he was able to bring you so much comfort, and also bring back your confidence.

-

”how about this?” you grabbed the light brown, one-piece bathing suit that had a sheer cover-up attached to it.

“you would look amazing in it. but, i thought you didn’t like one-pieces because of the way they felt on your skin?”

“i don’t,” you looked down, starting to fidget with the price tag. “but, i don’t know. there’s gonna be a lot of girls at this pool party.”

“so?” it slipped matt’s mind. again. he thought you were perfect, so he saw no issue with the way you looked.

“oh.” he remembered. the comments from your dads side of the family shouldn’t have stuck the way they did. he tried to keep his composure, trying not to imagine the way you must’ve acted after they would say things like that. he started to regret not going with you. it was only a few hours, but those few hours affected the next few weeks of your life.

“well, i think you should forget about what people might think. as bad as this may come off, you can’t change anything about your body. i mean, i love it. if you couldn’t tell.”

his hands landed on your waist, pulling you in.

“and, personally, you have the best body i’ve ever seen.” that meant a lot coming from a guy who’s friends with people like madison beer, nessa barrett, and multiple other attractive female influencers. not that you thought he would ever go for them, but he worshipped you. like, worshipped you.

“i love you so much, matt. you have no idea.”

“i love you more.”

~ after about 15 minutes of scouring through the target to find more bathing suits to try, especially two-pieces, you found the dressing room.

matt sat patiently on the bench right outside, waiting for you to walk out.

“uh, matt?”

“yeah, babe?”

“i don’t really wanna, y’know.. walk out there.”

“okay, that’s fine.”

his eyes widened slightly when he saw the opportunity approach.

“do you want me to.. go in there with you?”

you honestly thought nothing of it. i mean, he's your boyfriend. he's seen you naked like a thousand times.

"sure. maybe you can actually help me get this shit off."

you giggled, and he smirked at your offer.

you unlocked the dressing room door, hiding behind it as you cracked it open making sure no one could see you.

as you stepped out from behind the door, matt's jaw dropped at how the beautiful blue bikini hugged you in all the right places. all the right places.

"holy shit."

you accidentally covered your cleavage with your left hand nervously playing with your necklace, while the right rubbed your forehead.

"you think?"

without a word, he grabbed your left hand and threw it to your side. he was drooling at the sight of his favorite thing in the world.

your tits.

"i- uh.. just.. wow."

you blushed, covering your face with both hands.

"stop doing that."

he threw both of your arms down to your side with a stern look on his face.

"sorry, baby. do you.. maybe wanna help me change out of it?"

in an instant, he turned you around and quickly untied your top.

he slid the straps down your shoulders, admiring the soft skin.

his breath was heavy on your ear while he praised you and stared at your chest.

"god. what could i ever do without you? without these?"

his hands slid from your lower belly all the way up to your chest, playing with them like he needed it.

leaving hickeys all over your neck, he slowly turned you to face him. he tugged at the side of the bathing suit bottoms, signaling for you to take them off. after you did, he was quick to proving that you were everything and more.

"jump."

he had you pressed against the wall, your legs around his lower waist and arms slung over his shoulders. he started kissing in the crook of your neck until he reached your chest. he pecked anywhere he could reach, leaving behind little praises.

"i don't deserve you."

"i can't believe you're mine."

"you look more and more perfect every single day."

after about a minute, you both grew impatient.

he slipped his sweatpants and boxer down to his mid thigh. he kept heavy contact with your lips, making sure you knew just how much he craved your sweet taste.

he teased your entrance, slowly slipping his length into you. after adjusting to not only him but also the new position, he started going at a sweet and sultry but quick pace.

he somehow slipped a free hand, squeezing any amount of your tits that he could while kissing your neck. you fell into a high that left claw marks at his upper back, only motivating him more.

"you see how much i care about you? how perfect your- fuck.. your body really is? you had me folded from a bikini."

you giggled while still keeping your heavy breaths.

"try to stay quiet. don't need some rando knowing how great you really are. you're mine. you're my candy."

light groans and quiet sighs both escaped your mouths as you tried to keep from screaming each others names.

"i love you. i love what you give me. i don't deserve it. god- fuck.. i love you."

-

the coast was clear after walking out of the dressing room, both of you sweaty with slightly messy hair.

you walked to the register, smiling and holding matt's hand.

"just these, please."

"great choices, and i'm sure the boyfriend approves."

the cashier giggled while giving a look that made you blush knowing what just happened five minutes prior.

matt pulled you closer to him by your waist.

"trust me, i do."

-

HAHA YALL BETTER BE HAPPYYYYY

now time to move onto subnerd!matt which might be out by next week!!!

bye sluts!!🌺🍒

[cutielando]

Can we have a Lando x reader who's a little chubby?

chubby | l.n.

warnings!!: reader is described as being chubby, self-consciousness

my masterlist

You hadn’t always had doubts regarding the way you looked.

Seeing so many models around you at every step, feeling the eyes burning into the back of your neck and scrutinizing you for simply the way you looked. But you never cared about any of that.

You weren’t ugly, far from it. You were as beautiful as they come, but slightly a little chubby. You had some meat on your thighs and you weren’t afraid to show it off or feel confident in your body.

Well, that was before.

Ever since you started dating Lando, everything changed.

The amount of eyes that were on you before was nothing compared to the moment when you were introduced to the world as Lando’s girlfriend.

You had decided to keep your relationship a secret for the first couple of months, just until you tested out the waters and figured out what would come of the whole thing. You had tried to limit your expectations from the very beginning, knowing that Lando could leave you for anyone and nobody would ever know.

But it didn’t happen, and you were sure that what you had was real after months and months of expecting the worst.

After many talks, both you and Lando decided that it would be best for you to attend the Silverstone Grand Prix as your first official race as his girlfriend. It was his home Grand Prix, at the end of the way, he wanted you there with his family, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Are you sure you want me to come? I can stay back, I don’t mind” you said as you were waiting for Lando to finish getting ready so you could all leave for the track.

He looked at you, blankly staring at you. You’d had the same conversation 10 times since you guys woke up, and he didn’t know how to stress it well enough that he wanted you there with him.

“Baby, I don’t know how else to say this. I want you there with me, my family wants you there as well. Why are you so nervous?” he was holding your arms, softly running his finger up and down your soft skin.

You had the answer, but you didn’t want to give it to him. You already knew what he was going to say and how he was going to react, but you couldn’t lie to him when he looked at you with those eyes of his that stared deep into your soul.

“I know what people are going to say when they see you with me” you mumbled, staring down at your shoes.

Lando frowned, not understanding what his fans had to do with anything. Why would you care about what his fans would say? He didn’t, why would you?

“What do you mean?” he asked, bringing you closer to his body.

You sighed against his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist loosely.

“People are going to say things when they see you with me” your voice was small, unsure of your own words.

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed, confused as to what you meant. But he didn’t say anything when you sighed, letting you get everything off of your chest.

“I don’t look like the girls you are usually seen with, and people noticed that. They always have something to say about the way I look next to you and that I’m not like your exes and that you don’t really like me and are using me for clout. I know it’s not true, but sometimes they get to me” you confessed, a weight slowly lifting off of your conscience.

You weren’t used to being in the public eye as much as Lando, so you’d never before had to deal with people commenting about your appearance and judging every single thing you did or said.

It was something you took a while getting used to, but it was worth it if it meant being with Lando. And Lando was very grateful for all the sacrifices you had made for him.

“Baby, look at me” he said, taking your face in his hands so you would look him in the eyes. “I don’t care what anybody has to say about you. I love you for who you are, just the way you are. You’re gorgeous in my eyes and nobody could ever convince me otherwise” he said, speaking slowly so you could absorb his words carefully.

You looked at him, biting your lip as you studied his face and especially his eyes. They were sincere, holding more honesty and love than you thought you could ever comprehend.

“You mean that?” you whispered, feeling hot tears building into the corners of your eyes.

Lando smiled and leaned down, kissing you deeply. “I love you, and I don’t care what anyone has to say about us. We’re happy, nobody else matters”

You bit your lip again but nodded, prompting a big smile to break out on Lando’s face.

“Then let’s rock Silverstone”

♡♡♡♡♡

The paddock was buzzing when you arrived with Lando and his family. Dozens of fans were screaming your boyfriend’s name, and even though he smiled and waved at them while keeping his distance, you could tell his smile was not 100% honest.

You tried not to look at his fans if you could help it, knowing you would be met with some looks you’d be better off not seeing. Lando saw that, and he only wrapped his arm around your shoulders to keep you even closer as you made your way together to the garage.

“How are you feeling?” Lando asked once you were in the safety of his driver’s room, away from the screaming fans and photographers.

You smiled, your heart warming at the fact that his most pressing concern, even on the toughest race weekends, was you.

“I’m okay, you don’t have to worry about me” you reassured him, smiling lightly.

He looked at you for a moment, studying your face and eyes intently. He didn’t like knowing that his fans were not supportive of his relationship and of you in particular, he thought it was absolutely ridiculous.

“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable being here” he said, sighing before pulling you into a hug.

“I’ve known from the beginning that being in the public eye wouldn’t always be sunshine and roses. This is just an example of that, we can’t control it. People are allowed to have opinions, I just have to learn how to deal with them” you said, enjoying the warmth emanating from his body.

Lando nodded, but still felt like he should make it clear how wrong everybody else was about you.

He pulled away from the hug, only to take your face in his hands. “I want you to know that, no matter what anyone might say, I love you just the way you are. I don’t care if you’re skinny, if you’re a little chubby, if you have short or long hair, I care about you in any form. I love you for who you are, not for the way you look” he said, making tears well up in the corners of your eyes.

You had always known Lando loved you, but this right there proved it to you 1000 times over.

Not being able to resist, you practically threw yourself against his body, kissing him so fiercely you both became lightheaded. Pouring every ounce of love you felt for one another into a kiss, sealing a promise that you would always be there to lift each other up, no matter what.

Why?

Because nothing else mattered besides you two.

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[delulujuls]

his eyes | mv33

hi! you asked about part two for the mad dutchman and the fearless dutchess so i delivered (its still hot, fresh from the oven). i'm not sure if i like it but don't worry, for sure i will write something about the mad dutch duo in the future. but now enjoy this one!

summary: eyes can say a lot so where it comes to reveal feelings there is no place to hide

warnings: none, mentions of car accident

pairing: fem!redbulldriver x max verstappen

Max's eyes were beautiful.

They were always beautiful when they had small wrinkles around them caused by smiling. Always then, they were the color of a cloudless sky on a warm july morning. They were beautiful even when there was a storm raging inside. They were dark and agitated then, but still beautiful. But they were beautiful in a terrifying way, because at that moment there was no trace of a smile on Max's face, and the only warmth was the rage burning in his veins.

Y/N could have sworn she had never met another pair of eyes like Max's, so whenever she could, she allowed herself to drown in them. Even during arguments, when they were shouting and calling each other names, his eyes were beautiful. However, they lost all their beauty when they were struck by fear.

When Max was scared, his eyes faded. The july sky was covered with clouds and the turbulent sea was shrouded in fog. Y/N stopped noticing the fear in Max's eyes when he managed to break free from his toxic father and their karting years ended, replaced by Formula 1.

However, on that day when she woke up in the ambulance, the first thing she encountered was the cloudy sky in his eyes. Max wasn't scared; he was terrified to the core. When, after a few seconds, his brain acknowledged that his friend was alive, he sighed with relief. The sky began to clear.

"I never thought I'd be so happy to see those deceitful eyes of yours."

Verstappen smiled, squeezing his friend's hand.

"What happened?"

She asked with difficulty. Her throat hurt terribly; the hot smoke and fumes had taken their toll.

"You had an accident and lost consciousness. We'll be at the hospital soon."

"Accident is an understatement," a paramedic interjected, removing her drip from the hanger "You did a Grosjean from Bahrain 2020."

Y/N blinked several times and it took her a moment to connect the dots. Judging by the man's comparison, her accident must have been truly unpleasant.

"How's the car?"

"Just needs a wipe."

She rolled her eyes at her friend's words, and a moment later, she coughed. Quickly, she put her oxygen mask back on.

"Don't worry about the car," Max said, still holding her hand. "The most important thing is that you're back with us."

"At what cost? At least, being unconscious spared me from looking at you."

She replied sarcastically, pulling the mask slightly away from her face. Max chuckled quietly at her words, relieved that she still had the strength to joke after everything. She returned his smile. She still didn't fully grasp what had happened or what she had been involved in, but the feeling inside her body told her it must have looked bad. The last time she saw fear in Max's eyes was years ago.

But something had changed after that. Since her accident, she noticed that Max's eyes looked at her differently. In a way she had never seen before, a way she couldn't compare to anything else. They looked at her with unimaginable gentleness and tenderness. They looked at her with love.

"You're damn stubborn, you know that?"

Max said when barely two weeks after the accident Y/N, using crutches, appeared in his garage. He didn't say it maliciously; he was just genuinely worried. He put down his water bottle and approached his friend, gently hugging her and pulling up a chair for her.

"I'm glad to see you too."

She replied, leaning her crutches against the chair and sitting on the workbench.

Max sighed and shook his head. Since the accident, Y/N had been a constant source of concern for him.

"What?" she asked, glancing at him, "I'm not getting into the car, don't worry."

"You should be resting."

"I am resting, see?" Y/N pointed to her makeshift seat, "More comfortable than a bed."

Max was about to reply, but he was called to take his place in the car. Friends exchanged glances one last time and as he left the garage, Y/N hopped off the bench and approached Christian's workstation, taking a seat next to him. He smiled at her and handed her headphones.

"Good to see you, Y/N."

"Some would prefer me not to be here."

She replied, glancing at the monitor. Christian smiled at the thought of Max, who was very concerned about his friend.

"He was really worried about you, like we all were."

"I guess I'm just not used to Verstappen seeing more than the tip of his own nose."

The man laughed at her words. She was absolutely right; Max's reputation could be unpredictable. However, lately, his behavior had changed noticeably, evident to everyone in the paddock.

When the training session ended, friends returned to the hotel. Max kept pace with Y/N, ready to catch her if she stumbled. Moving on crutches wasn't problematic for her, though.

"Don't look at me like I'm an eighty-year-old grandma."

She said, seeing his gaze as they reached her room and she plopped onto the bed with a heavy sigh.

"I'm not looking at you like that. We both know that you are slower than this only in a car."

Y/N grabbed a pillow and threw it at him and he laughed, effortlessly catching it. They looked at each other for a moment in silence, but Y/N lowered her gaze when she noticed his eyes doing it again. Looking at her in that way.

"Christian said you were worried" the girl said, after a moment gathering enough courage to look at him again, "Really?"

"I thought I was pulling a corpse out of that wreck. Of course I was worried."

She lowered her gaze again, focusing on her hands. Max squeezed the pillow in his hands and sat next to her.

"Thank you."

She said softly. Even though she had thanked him earlier, she knew that no amount of gratitude would match the level of his deed. She turned her head towards him and their gazes met again. He smiled.

"I knew you'd do the same. You've always got my back, no matter how angry you are with me."

Y/N snorted and nodded. Max was absolutely right. Although some time had passed since the accident, they hadn't had a chance to talk about it. Not about the accident itself, but about what changed between them. Because something definitely had changed.

"Can I ask you something?"

She spoke up, glancing at him. He nodded.

"Did what happened change anything between us?"

"What do you mean?"

Max tensed a bit. Although he didn't move an inch, after so many years spent together, you could pick up every detail.

"You're behaving differently toward me."

She explained. He looked at her attentively.

"You're more affectionate. I've never felt something like that from you before."

Max lowered his head and interlaced his fingers. He wasn't sure how to put into words what had been swirling in his head for some time and growing stronger with each passing day. So, he decided to go for honesty.

"When I was pulling you out of the car, I had no idea if you were alive. Riding in the ambulance, I wondered if I would ever be able to talk to you again and apologize for that senseless argument."

He took a deep breath and rubbed his face with his hands.

"When you woke up and looked at me, I thought I'd cry with happiness. That's when I realized how much you mean to me and how important you are."

Y/N stayed silent, trying to absorb all the words he had spoken. She could feel the emotions quickening her pulse, so she decided to lighten the mood a bit and probe whether they were on the same page.

"If you had kissed me, I probably would have woken up faster."

Max felt as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water on him. He blinked several times and looked at his friend. She just smiled slightly.

"Kissed?"

She nodded.

For a moment, Max struggled to open his mouth to say something, but to no avail. He was in too much shock.

"Are you setting me up now?"

"I'm not setting you up, Max."

"Yes, like if I had kissed you back then, you would have woken up faster. But only to punch me in the face."

She laughed and fell back on the pillows, pretending to be dead.

"You have to check it yourself."

Max wondered for a moment if she was joking, but he didn't have time for further contemplation. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him toward her. He leaned on his elbow next to her head and looked at her face. Her gaze and a faint smile indicated that it wasn't just a silly joke.

Without hesitation, Max lightly touched her cheek and kissed her. She smiled and hugged him around the neck, returning the kiss.

When they separated for a moment to catch their breath, the eyes of the two met again and Y/N once again allowed herself to drown in the boundless blue of his eyes. The turbulent sea was calm and the july, sunny sky was cloudless. Everything was fine.

Everything was just how it supposed to be.

[silverskye13]

"So I'm about to say something really... Hmm... Weird," Joe said as he leaned against the building, arms crossed.

"Is that supposed to be news to me?" Cleo asked, rifling through her bag and pulling out two apples. She passed one to Joe, and he took it.

"If it were, I don't think we'd be friends."

"I figured."

"Anyway it's a little weirder than normal."

"I'll be the judge of that, I think."

Joe shrugged, took a bite of his apple and said, "So, one of the arguments against a benevolent God -- don't look at me like that I told you it was weird -- anyway, so, if God was so nice, would he have put a bomb in the Garden of Eden?"

Cleo blinked at Joe for a long moment.

"Sorry, I'll back up a little," Joe smiled apologetically. "How much do you know about human theology?"

"I've been human before Joe," Cleo glowered, pulling a knife from her pocket and cutting a small piece away from her apple. "That's just a really strong lead."

Joe shrugged. "Did you expect anything different?"

"No, it's just a little early for theology today."

"We can talk about something else, if you want."

A shout interrupted their conversation. Grian sprinted past, laughing maniacally and apologizing in the same breaths. Doc followed quickly after him, shouting curses and insults. Joe and Cleo both took contemplative bites of their apples and watched the two run.

"No, I want to see where this conversation is going," Cleo said finally, slicing another piece of her apple off.

"Okay, so, some people believe God is all-knowing, all-powerful, and also, all-benevolent," Joe continued, twisting his apple stem with every adjective. "But if He were all of those things, why would He make a bunch of curious humans, tell them they could touch everything except one specific big red button, and, knowing they would definitely press it, just sit back and watch?"

"I wasn't aware buttons and bombs existed at the same time as the Garden of Eden."

"One could argue the whole Soddom and Gammorah thing was bomb-like."

"That was definitely, definitely meteors, Joe."

"Also the bomb thing is an analogy, and you know it's an analogy."

"What are we analogy-ing?" Mumbo asked, flaring his elytra as he landed beside them.

Cleo pulled a third apple from her bag and passed it to him, "Pretty sure Joe is comparing you to God."

Mumbo took the apple, looking incredulous. He gave a laugh that was half nervous, half confused. "I-- well that's-- that's very flattering Joe. I didn't realize you thought so highly of me."

"You would think that," Cleo smirked, slicing off another piece of apple.

"What?"

"So the question stands," Joe continued as though neither of the interruptions took place. "If God is good, why did he put a big red button in the Garden of Eden?"

Mumbo opened his mouth, and then deciding he had no idea what this conversation was about, actually, he closed it again.

"Maybe God was feeling optimistic that day," Cleo offered. "Or maybe even gods need to screw around and find out sometimes. For instance, I know this apple is definitely going to rot in me later, but I'm also definitely still eating it."

"Fair point," Joe said, twisting off his apple stem and flicking it to the ground. "So maybe God can make mistakes, or He was curious, or there was something ineffable going on at the time. But if God did it twice," Joe gave Mumbo a sideways glance, "would that be screwed up or what?"

Mumbo opened his mouth again, closed it, opened it again.

"Mumbo a fly is going to buzz in there if you aren't careful," Cleo said.

"Okay, okay. I can see where -- okay. So, first off, I'm not God," Mumbo said, and then paused, because Scar was screaming and running past them now, followed shortly by Grian, who was followed shortly by Doc. Then he continued, "Also this isn't Eden."

"It's an analogy," Joe reminded him unhelpfully, smiling warmly.

"Also how was I supposed to know this would happen again?"

"That Grian would push a button, or that Grian would push a button specifically to mess with Doc?" Cleo asked innocently.

Mumbo opened and closed his mouth again eloquently.

"You've gotta admit, at this point it is starting to look intentional," Joe pointed out.

"What's starting to look intentional?" Jevin interrupted, landing amidst the group standing on the fringes of the shopping district. Cleo offered him another apple.

"A malevolent God," Joe answered.

"My button," Mumbo grumbled at the same time.

"The hubris of man," Cleo added, because it seemed relevant.

"I HAVE BEEN STANDING HERE FOR THIRTY-SIX HOURS GRIAN. THIRTY-SIX." Doc screamed, passing so close to the four onlookers in his chase, they could no longer talk over his yelling. "I WANT THAT CROWN IT BELONGS TO ME."

Grian slid across the grass, narrowly dodging Doc's thrown axe. He threw the gaudy purple crown he'd stolen to Scar, who sprinted off in another direction with it. Doc roared angrily, "I LET YOU TOO OFF EASY LAST TIME BUT NO MORE! I WILL RAIN TNT AND FIRE ON YOUR BASES! I WILL TEAR THEM APART BLOCK BY BLOCK I WILL--!"

"I'm sorry Doc!" Grian cackled, not sounding sorry at all, "It's just -- you're so fun to mess with!"

He and Scar spread their elytras and leaped into the sky, followed shortly by Doc, who was still shouting.

Jevin, Cleo and Joe all turned to look at Mumbo, who rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Okay so... Maybe it's possible, yes, I could have foreseen this happening," Mumbo said begrudgingly. "But I mean, it's not all that bad, is it?"

"We do have a lot of fun fighting wars," Jevin agreed, shoving his entire apple into his face. It hovered blue-tinted in his opaque slime for a moment before rapidly dissolving.

"You would, Jevin," Cleo smiled.

"Sleep with one eye open, Cleo," Jevin replied conversationally.

"Some of our best mini games came out of the Mycelium War," Joe observed, taking one more bite out of his apple.

Mumbo looked down at his apple contemplatively.

"So the question still stands," Cleo said, after a long pause had passed between them, "is Mumbo evil for inflicting The Button Game on us the first time, or the second time?"

Joe shrugged, "I think like all religion, the answer is subjective. Doc would argue yes. Grian would argue no."

"That wasn't a yes-or-no question," Jevin said.

"I would argue I'm still not God, so this is a terrible analogy, actually!" Mumbo shouted defensively, and then took a bite of his apple, closing the subject.

[stromblessed]

Mizu was wrong to let Akemi be taken because they both deserve better

First, a confession. When I saw this for the first time:

I was relieved. I knew that was what Mizu was going to say and I felt like it's what I would have said in that situation too.

When Akemi does this:

I cringed, because if we know anything about Mizu, it's that she (1) isn't quick to make friends (though to be fair, even though Akemi did try to kill Mizu, so did Taigen - multiple times! - and look how that turned out lol), and (2) doesn't take orders.

So when Akemi and Ringo and later Taigen get angry at Mizu, are they being unfair?

Sure, Mizu isn't obligated to treat Akemi - or Taigen or Ringo or anybody else - nicely, or to serve them, or to be honorable, or be a hero to them, or whatever. No human being is obligated to any other human being. We all have the choice to do whatever we want to anybody else. But the point of flawed characters in storytelling is the tension between those characters and their potential. Their growth into someone who can choose the higher, harder path, who chooses to be obligated to others, who chooses kindness and compassion.

Because Mizu's problem isn't revenge. Nobody is preaching at Mizu that revenge isn't the answer. Her circumstances do suck, her life has been incredibly unfair, she is marginalized, and as far as we and Mizu know for most of the season, she is a child born of violence and no one is saying that that violence doesn't deserve to be repaid in kind.

Mizu's problem is isolation. And the fact that she thinks she has no responsibility toward her fellow human beings, because her hatred of her own circumstances and her having no life outside of her quest devours everything else. This is a problem because it turns Mizu into the worst version of herself. A version that hurts the people who like Mizu, the people who care about her.

Practically, Mizu has just taken on an entire army almost by herself. She's hurt. She's exhausted. If she were to defend Akemi now, it'd be yet ANOTHER fight, this time against horsed and armored samurai.

But that's not the reason Mizu gives Ringo. Mizu's ability or willingness to fight isn't even on her mind. All she says is, "She's better off."

"She's better off" is Mizu deciding what's best for Akemi. Akemi's entire story is about her being a caged bird longing to fly free.

One after the other, every man and woman in Akemi's life makes her decisions for her. She has to grovel and smile prettily and lie through her teeth just for the chance to be heard. Mizu judges Akemi for being a rich princess who isn't being more grateful for what she has, all without understanding Akemi's situation, and without any curiosity for why Akemi feels the way she does. From Akemi's perspective, Mizu is just one more person (one more man!) in a long lineup who ignores Akemi's wishes and (casually!) makes a decision for her that impacts Akemi's life greatly.

In the end, even Seki concludes that Akemi should get to decide what's best for Akemi. What others think that Akemi SHOULD want does not matter compared to what Akemi wants for her own life. As Madame Kaji said - Madame Kaji, who despite calling out the weirdness of Akemi's situation as well as the childishness of her decision to run away - is the only person Akemi meets who doesn't try to make decisions for Akemi, but instead only challenges Akemi to work for and be worthy of what she wants - she needs to decide what she wants for her own fucking self, and then take it.

Mizu being born female does not make her automatically wiser for letting Akemi be taken, and it does not preclude her from having a hand in giving Akemi back to her jailers. A patriarchy that Mizu knows full well would stop Mizu from achieving her own goals if she didn't present as male.

Mizu is still understandable here. She just had to kill Kinuyo, a disabled girl sold by her father into prostitution, a girl in a situation so far beyond Akemi's worst imaginings that I can practically feel Mizu's world being rocked just by comparing them in her mind the way she most likely is. That still doesn't make it right for Mizu to let Akemi be carried off to be sold into marriage by her father against her wishes. Those "good options" Mizu thinks Akemi has don't exist, no more than they ever existed for Mizu. Akemi and Mizu both have to get creative, make the best of their circumstances, take dangerous risks, and break rules in order to have any control over their own lives.

Even on my first watch, when at first I thought that Mizu had made the right decision and that Akemi was being unreasonable, Akemi screaming Mizu's name while being dragged, LITERALLY DRAGGED, back to her father was haunting as hell.

Mizu had the power to help Akemi, and simply chose not to.

Mizu lets Akemi be taken, Akemi who has just begun to trust Mizu. Mizu calls Ringo weak and quickly - seemingly easily - turns her back on him. Mizu values her quest over Taigen's life, after Taigen has endured days of torture to protect her, and she not only risks his life in the process, but doesn't tell him that Akemi is engaged to someone else, or that she came looking for Taigen, or that she is in danger.

Mizu's sword breaks because it is too brittle. Too pure. Too singleminded. Mizu only melts down the meteorite metal when she mixes the metal with objects from parts of her life that have nothing to do with her quest. Objects from the people she cares about, and who care about her.

All I'm saying is - Mizu doesn't have to be a hero. But she is the better version of herself when she reaches out to help and connect with others. When she's just a decent, kinder human being. And I think that's what this story is telling us that we should want for Mizu.

[bluee08]

Astro observations 《3》

Disclaimer : Not an astrologer, take it with a grain of salt, only for fun.

🫧 Asteroid Orma in 8th house might be the people to leave an impression of being hella reserved in a mysterious way. Like they might tell you a story and you will always feel like there is something more to it.

🪩 Mars in 3rd house people often say something offending without meaning to and regret the very next second. Trust me it's not their fault, they wanted to say something else and ended up saying something totally unexpected. They also feel guilty about it for days and feel sad that they might have come off rude for no reason.

🫧 Neptune conjuct ascendant, they are the real chameleons. They can mold themselves as per the situation demands. Ngl it comes handy sometimes. Like I remember when I was in 6th grade I was caught into a very serious matter but I pretended as if nothing happened and flew away. When the other guys rattled me out to the teacher, she said It's impossible that I was involved and that she doesn't believe them. She didn't hear a single word against me. Lol no, I wasn't her favorite student or something. It's just that I had maintained a certain reputation among different sect of people as per my own convenience. Call it manipulation if you want, if that doesn't explain the planet itself.

🪩 Pluto trine Lilith, it's not always sexuality that comes to the mind when we hear about these folk. Lilith here is aware that pluto is her benefactor. But it takes time for her to feel comfortable in her own domain. She is powerful here and knows what she wants. Definitely won't take anyone's bullshit. Her transformation can be scary and ruthless if someone tries to pin her down.

🫧 Jupiter sextile Pluto have a deep interest in forbidden things. Learning things that often people consider taboo is their thrill. They may or may not share the knowledge but they are always resourceful about topics relatated to dark themes of life. Feel free to discuss anything with them, they won't judge you infact they will help you inhance your own boundaries. You will be surprised how normal they'll sound while talking about things that might trigger other people even if they have gone through the same.

🪩 The one guy I had a Aphrodite-Eros synastry with made me feel like...idk strange. I was on a constant pedestal. I cared a lot about him. His Eros conjucted my Aphrodite and I looked out for him a lot. There was a thick sexual tension but also comfort. He also made me get a taste of jealousy. Which I don't usually feel. I used to constantly compare myself with the girls he used to interact with. We were not dating but I just couldn't help but feel insecure. Not because of him....idk why I was acting like that when I knew I was pretty enough.

🫧 Mars opposite Venus people get sudden mood swings from doing absolutely nothing to doing everything in next one hour. Oh and they'll do it again if it ain't asthetically pleasing to the eye.

🪩 Sun sextile Saturn, trust me they do know how to control themselves and take things with a grain of salt. Their ego is well maintained and not fragile unlike others. Very understanding and real mature people.

🫧 Sun sextile/trine Moon are the most compassionate and intuned with their selves. They know themselves better than anyone else. Also they always know exactly what they are feeling at any given time. Even if they are depressed at some point they won't give up easily.

🪩 Neptune negatively aspecting Saturn, dreaming big is easy, isn't it? But when you start implanting those dreams in real life your dreams remain dreams only. Don't worry though. It's a lesson. Don't give up, try harder. Dream as big as you want but at the end of the day remember to open your eyes and start afresh with new motivation. And please don't listen to those who tell you to quit it down. Your dreams are not weird or impossible or too much. Those people are just jealous because of how big your ambitions are and how far you are willing to go for it. Don't restrict your imagination for someone else. Believe yourself, you can do it!

🫧 Pluto in 10th house solar return chart can indicate a huge change in academic life or anywhere you are working at. For better or worse you better take precautions before hand. I am having it this year with mars in 3rd house and trust me from an above average student my grades are becoming poor. If I were to describe my graph I can see it coming downhill like a water slide which is creating quite an impression on my parents as well as my teachers. Note the sarcasm.

🪩 Saturn in 7th house could indicate having no interest in relationships at first or people being afraid to ask you out but when you grow up, settle well, you find yourself looking for your better half, resulting in either meeting them late or doing an arrange marriage.

🫧 Saturn opposite ascendant are the people who often get told that they look unapproachable on first glance. Kind of the 'out of league' vibe surrounds them. Which is not always true but I have noticed people do think twice before approaching them. These sweeties are also damn soft on the inside but for only those who do dare to talk to them. They rarely take the initiative themselves. But come ask help from them and they will risk their lives for you.

🪩 Mercury aspecting chiron could indicate healing your wounds by diving into the world of books. You might like to read or write journals when you are feeling down. There might be a small diary or pages that you have written when you were at your lowest. Its also possible that you start writing a novel or something to help you voice out your pain through written words.

🫧 Sun conjuct asteroid Medusa. Damn! You could have curly hair or hairs that are a lot wavy, thick and voluminated. Highly blessed in hair department. Many people might have praised you or complimented on your hair from a very young age. This could also indiacte a lot of body hair. From top to bottom you have body hair and trust me its not a bad thing. Its a blessing of being powerful, embrace it. It's just a hunch but some may have complimented you on that too.

🪩 Mars in 3rd house can't watch porn without audio or no communication during the deed. They always want to hear the sounds, no, they NeeD to hear the sounds raw! Only visuals is boring for them just as adding some weird music to the video. No, its not creating the mood, its ruining my experience, pls stop it.

🫧 You don't wanna hear someone moan who has their personal planets conjucting asteroid Sirene. Trust me you will get addicted. Its insane and I am not bluffing. Their voice may or may not be as addictive in general but in bed? Or when they want to take something from you? You will be trapped even before you blink. It's dangerous.

🪩 What's with Taurus Mars and Laziness? So much potential and still they study few hours before exam, complete assignments few minutes before submission and still have the audacity to say they will easily pass. Like bro if that's how you pass then I can't imagine how you will top....

🫧 Moon in 4th house people are highly invested in family matters. Family comes first to them and then the rest. The kind of people to tolerate an unhappy married life for the sake of their kids because they can't see their family being split apart.

🪩 Mars aspecting Pluto. It doesn't matter if it is positively aspected or negatively aspected, there is a lot of pent up frustration and anger issues underneath this placement. If provoked or underdeveloped could result in a very sudden and violent rage from this person. Better to leave them alone in such situations.

[highdefhoetry]

tags: NSFW!!! female reader, hand kink, vaginal fingering, finger sucking, penetration (fingers in vagina), g spot stimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, tasting your own cum

Geto noticed everything.

Your silent admiration of his hands. The path of your eyes as they followed the lines on his palms. How you always needed your fingers intertwined with his. You had never been with someone who had such beautiful, captivating hands. Hands that were gentle, yet firm. Big, but delicate. When you first pressed the palms of your hands against his, the sensation stole the breath from your lungs. His rough, calloused skin against yours. His long fingers folding over your fingertips. His strong grip, powerful enough to hold you in place if he so willed it. Your mind ran wild with impure thoughts, the only thing he couldn’t see with eyes alone.

You imagined his thick fingers pumping inside you, his index curling up as it sought out the elusive G-spot deep within. You wanted to taste yourself once he was finished playing inside, put his fingers in your mouth and lick them clean, exchange your cum for saliva. You wanted his big thumb to rub the hood of your clit, slowly and meticulously, until the gentle teasing drove you to the brink of insanity.

However, you were much too shy to tell him about your little “fascination”, fearing you’d weird him out after only a few short weeks of dating. You were still getting to know each other, and there were still some things you thought were best kept secret for now.

But he was an observant man. Nothing got past him, especially when it came to pleasing his girl. 

“Something on your mind, babe?” he asks you one day while you’re sitting at home on the couch together. You hadn’t realized you’d zoned out; you’d been too busy playing with his fingers again to focus on much else. You peel your eyes away and meet his gaze; he welcomes you back to reality with a warm smile.

“...Huh? Oh. Sorry, babe. Just zoned out for a second.”

“What were you thinking about?” he asks again. 

“Nothing, really,” you lie. 

“Is that so?”

He puts his hands on either side of your waist, lifts you up, sets you down on his lap. It happens so quickly you don’t have a chance to protest. He slides his palms down your sides and rests them on your thighs. You put your hands on top of his, feeling the rough, cracked skin on his knuckles. They look so small compared to his, almost like a doll’s. 

Everything about him was so damn big. It really turned you on.

“You sure it was nothing?” He gives your thighs a quick squeeze, causing you to jump slightly from the sensation. 

“Mhm,” you nod, heart pounding as your hands rest on his forearms. You see the muscles in his arms contract and feel your pussy clench in anticipation.

Geto slides his hands back up your body, sneaking them under the hem of your shirt and pausing only to caress your chest. You let out a small gasp, press your chest further into his grasp.

“You know,” he says as he tweaks your nipples. “You can tell me anything. I won’t judge.”

“Mmm,” you close your eyes and nod again. “I know…”

“And you don’t need to be so shy about everythin’.”

He leans forward to give you a kiss, and you feel him smile against your lips.

“Although it is really cute, seein’ you get all worked up over my hands.”

Your heart jolts, and for a second it feels like the air’s been kicked out of your lungs.

“Huh?!” 

Geto throws back his head and laughs.

“Come on, baby. You really didn’t think I noticed? You’re always starin’ at them. What, you got a thing for hands or somethin’?”

You feel your cheeks heat up as he speaks. 

“...Was it really that obvious?”

He nods, grinning cheekily. “Yep.”

“And you’re not weirded out?”

“There are weirder things in life, babe.”

He places his hands on the tops of your thighs again, rubs your soft skin, chuckles when he hears you whimpering softly. 

“What do you like about ‘em?” he asks, taking your chin in hand and rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip. Your breath escapes you again, your mind starts to go fuzzy.

“They’re big,” you say in almost a whisper, kissing the pad of his thumb. “Much bigger than mine. And they’re strong.”

“Is that it?” he caresses your bottom lip again, tenderly stroking the petal-soft skin. It’s so close, just a little more before it went inside…

“I like the shape of them… I like the roughness of your skin. And I like how I can see your veins pop out.”

“Yeah?” he cocks his head to the side, smirks at you with mischief in his eyes.

You can’t take it any longer. You grab his wrist, press your lips against his thumb, kiss his palm upwards until you reach his index finger. Then you take it in your mouth, sucking on his finger just as passionately you suck his dick. He looks a bit surprised at first, but that cocky smile returns almost as quickly as it disappeared. 

“My, my,” he narrows his eyes. “How long have you been wanting to do this?”

You moan in response, too focused on his taste to say much else.

But he doesn’t accept your silence as an answer. You feel his other hand caress your inner thighs, causing your skin to quiver slightly from the tickly feeling. It slips under your skirt, strokes your bare pussy lips in a slow and teasing fashion. You’re glad you decided not to wear underwear that day. You start grinding your hips, beckoning him to come inside.

He places his thumb on the hood of your clit, just like you imagined, and starts massaging it with fervor. You moan louder, writhing in his lap as he plays with you. his grin only growing wider. He moves downward, feels your wetness and takes it as a welcome sign. Then, he slides a finger into you, thrusting slowly while you cry out in pleasure. It’s enough to distract you from sucking his fingers; they fall out of your lips as the sensation takes over.

Your eyes roll back when he inserts another finger, now pumping two of them in and out of your hole. Your body bounces up and down, enjoying the way they curl up from time to time. He’s searching for it, the spongy spot hidden inside your walls, and it doesn’t take long to find it. With the tips of his fingers, he strokes the textured skin until you come, and you come hard. You feel yourself squirt all over his hand uncontrollably, too overcome with ecstatic pleasure to be embarrassed. He chuckles quietly as he listens to you moan and cry.

“Damn,” he resumes the slow, steady pumps inside you once more. “I’ve never seen you come that hard before, babe.”

“Haaa… haaaa…” you try to speak, but only air comes out. 

You figure it’s over and done, but he doesn’t stop his rhythmic thrusts. Instead, he goes a bit faster this time, still curling his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion as he fingerfucks you harder and harder. It’s almost sensory overload; only a couple more minutes pass before you orgasm again, squirting on his fingers once more. You didn’t think there was any more left in you, that he had milked you dry, but as he keeps on thrusting you find yourself coming over and over and over again, screaming louder with each round.

You lose track of how many orgasms you have. By the time he decides to stop, your skin is damp with sweat and your voice is slightly hoarse. He takes out his fingers, but before he can wipe them off you grab his hand and force his fingers into your mouth. You close your eyes while you taste the sweet fluids on his skin. It’s saccharine, yet pleasant. You were glad there was nothing off about it.

He lets you suck on them for a bit longer before pulling them out of your mouth. He leans forward, kisses you deeply, presses his tongue against yours. His large hands grip your ass, giving both cheeks a quick spank. 

“Now it’s my turn,” he croons, pulling down his boxers as he prepares to take you.

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

@getoswife14 hope you enjoyed 🥰

[ponett]

Recently, I've been looking back at MLP FIM. I was in high school when it began and was at the height of it's popularity. I was never a super fan or anything and watched a few episodes, but never every one, mainly in the first few seasons. I mostly experienced the fandom through fanart and fanfics, oddly enough. I think I stopped paying attention around the time Starlight Glimmer was introduced. It actually wasn't until a year or so after it ended in 2019 that I realized the show had finished lol

One thing that always bothered me about FIM was how it handled non-ponies and their cultures. The early fandom from what I remember, NEVER liked to talk about racism in the show. Not a surprise given it's 4chan roots. It's only fairly recently, on places like Reddit and Tumblr, that these conversations can happen.

From the early seasons, the most egregious examples were Zecora in her debut episode Bridle Gossip and the Buffalo from the episode, Over a Barrel. I have to wonder what exactly were Lauren Faust, the team at DHX and Hasbro thinking. Zecora is pretty much a magic negro stereotype and the Over a Barrel episode was offensive bothsidsing of the historical conflict between settlers and Native Americans. I could see that the writer intended a "don't judge a book by it's cover" lesson in Bridle Gossip, but that's kind of undermined when Zecora is an insensitive racially-coded stereotype.

Later on, it was nice they focused on non-pony races and diversity, but there was this weird cultural imperialism that showed up with the ponies needing to teach everybody else about friendship. Pretty much every society they visited was dysfunctional or were villains. It was like a pony version of the White Man's Burden. They even installed their own Equestria-friendly leaders. It's a good thing the Native American-coded Buffalo never came back for the Friendship School.

I can only imagine that a lack of diversity in the production crew let these things happen. I can see how the staff didn't think through the implications of the Pony's Burden stuff, but Zecora and the Buffalo are a lot less excusable imo. Lauren Faust and co in Season 1 really should've known better

Believe me when I say people have always been critical of the weird racial coding of the non-pony species in MLP, going all the way back to 2010. Especially here on Tumblr, where you'd find more progressive corners of the fandom compared to, like, /co/ or Equestria Daily or wherever. I guess there's less pushback against those criticisms now, which is good, but they aren't new. It's always been one of the show's most glaring flaws, and something that I hope future iterations of the franchise can improve upon.

[kingkat12]

I have had this idea for a fic forever but it's probably lame. What if witch!reader met Olivia Godfrey and could tell she was rotten. That she just had the worst intentions for everyone. So the reader spelled protection charms (like jewelry or trinkets) for Roman, Peter, Letha, Shelley, ect. to try to keep them safe?

now this... this is something I can work with lol, enjoy!!!<33

safe (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: none lol (can you believe it)

summary: when you get confronted with your boyfriend's mother, your existence is threatened. but no matter the dangers, love will always prevail; your love will always come first to you.

word count: 1,191

"So you're not going to tell me what happened?" Letha said, watching me with a worried look on her face. I could barely sit still, watching other students pass us by as I anxiously ripped at my nails, hoping our lunch break would never end. 

"Well, dinner with his family went well," I mumbled, making myself comfortable on the bench in the courtyard. "But I could just feel it in my bones that something was... wrong."

Letha put away her lunch, turning to me. "In what sense?"

"His mom-- Ow, fuck!" I hissed, realizing I had ripped too deep into a nail. I also didn't know how to explain this properly to Letha without giving away too much about my identity. "It's just this... This feeling I haven't sensed before. I can't put my finger on exactly what was wrong with her, but it was something dark, something ancient." 

"Okay..." Concerned, Letha put her hand on my shoulder. She obviously thought I sounded like I was having a manic episode, but Letha being who she was, she still found a way to approach me with kindness; "I hear you, and I get that meeting Roman's mom must've been quite intimidating for you... However, I still think you should answer his messages. He's going a bit crazy," 

I shouldn't. "I don't know," I breathed, reaching into my purse. I had spent the whole night trying to put some protective spells on a couple of rocks I had found in my backyard, having found nothing else. Finding a small, round rock, I handed it to Letha; "Keep this in your purse. Or in the front pocket of your jeans. Just... keep it close, okay?"

Understandably, Letha grimaced, taking the little rock into her hands. Judging by her facial expression, I realized I probably sounded absolutely insane. Still, she smiled back up at me with the same soft smile as always; "Uh... Thanks. It's very sweet of you to give me this... rock, but--"

"No, I'm not talking to Roman," I said, getting up from the bench. "I can't. I seriously can't." Having been born into ancient magic myself, I knew I couldn't get involved with anything as big as upirs without any backup. And currently, I didn't have any. After having been forced to move from one state to another because of a neighbouring witch-clan, I somehow found myself in Hemlock Grove, once again feeling remnants of something supernatural in the one guy I had somehow gotten feelings for. However, I had forced myself that I was just imagining it, that I was being paranoid, that upirs were just legends-- until I met his mother. I had sensed specks in Roman, but nothing compared to her.

Even worse, I knew Olivia Godfrey could definitely sense something in me as well, and that put everyone around me in danger. I had to protect them somehow, didn't I?

--

My locker slammed shut right in front of me just as I was about to take out my history book. I yelped, taking a startled step back as my eyes darted up at the culprit. 

Roman's big, green eyes were staring down at me with anger I hadn't seen in them before. It made me want to turn around and run for my life, save myself from whatever was about to come, but instead, I froze. I couldn't move, not even if I wanted to, as my eyes widened with a mix of both shock and fear.

Roman stepped forward, cornering me back up against my locker. "What's wrong with you?" he said, voice low. "You think you can just disappear on me like that?"

I succumbed to a slight tremble, at a loss for words. I knew a guy like Roman wouldn't take a situation like this lightly-- he had his pride to protect, after all. 

"You think that ignoring me for two days is okay?" he sneered, his eye twitching just slightly. "That's not how this works. You don't get to do that."

I held my breath-- he was right. My heart thumped hard in my chest as I pushed away all thoughts of how gorgeous he looked right now, his hair styled back as always, his pink, plush lips pursed in anger.  "I'm sorry," I breathed, not knowing what else to say. This was absolutely killing me; I was crazy about this guy. This was not how I wanted this to go down. 

"Seriously? That's all I get?" Groaning, Roman ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated with me. "The one time I take someone seriously, and you pull this crap on me?"

It felt like he was ripping my heart into hundreds of tiny pieces, the remnants scattering across the floor of the busy hallway. Roman had been the one good thing in my life since I left everything behind and moved-- I didn't want it to end like this. I didn't want it to end at all. 

I just didn't want to move again; I didn't want to have to never see him. In my mind, it would be better to break it off now and watch him bloom from afar, than to get myself deeper into the dark shit I knew would follow if Olivia found out her son had serious intentions with a fucking witch. I doubted that she wanted anyone foreign like that in her territory. 

"Roman, I..." With a sigh, I reached into my purse once more with a trembling hand, fishing out another protective stone. This was all I could do. I had to do something to protect him, didn't I? I was praying to all the Gods in the world that Olivia wouldn't find it in his pockets or anything along those lines, but I couldn't let him walk around unprotected with a creature like her roaming the halls of his own home. "Take this. Keep it close. I can't explain, but I need you to not let your mom find this."

With a huff, Roman took the rock into his hand, our fingertips touching during the exchange. If only we could stay here like this forever, touching, close-- but I knew fate wouldn't allow it.

"A rock? A fucking rock? And what does my mom have to do with this?--" Suddenly, he froze, eyes rounding out as he balled his hand around it. Something told me Roman could feel the spell, that he knew what it was and why I had given it to him, but I told myself that it was just my wishful thinking trying to soothe me. 

"I'm sorry I can't explain," I breathed, letting out a shaky breath. "You're wonderful. You're gentle, you're kind, and I... I just don't think we should be together. I don't think it would be good for us."

Roman stared down at me with an expression mixed with disbelief and shock. His hand clenched around the rock, slowly opening his palm to glance at it once more. "You... Wait, is this thing seriously what I think it is?--"

I frantically shook my head, stepping away from him. "It's nothing. Just stay safe. Please," He didn't need to know. It wasn't safe for him to know.

And I needed him to be safe.

[silent-sanctum]

HIII I LOVEEE YOUR WORKS !!! can i request jotaro x reader but where by a stand attack jotaro was now part 6 jotaro with the teen reader ? How shocked and flustered would be rrader by seeing jitaro in his 40's ! Ty!!!

hiya anon! Thank you for the kind words 🥹 Sorry it took so long for me to get your request out. It was supposed to be yesterday but then some mishaps happened and it was delayed to today. But here we are! Hope you enjoy this quick lil crack(?) fic I wrote 💌

A Mild Inconvenience- 6!Taro x Reader

word count: 2.7k

You have no idea where he went nor when he disappeared.

It was strange as it happened when you think about it again; one day, you and Jotaro were out and about investigating the area for any suspicious activity, and then out of the blue a random stranger jumped out from the shadows and made a weird proclamation of sorts about taking down the Crusaders.

It wasn’t anything surprising given he was the nth enemy Stand user they faced throughout this trip and judging by the way he presented himself, he’s also boasting a fragile ego thinking he was all that.

But an enemy was still an enemy so you and your delinquent partner had no problem beating him to a pulp. It was rather easy compared to the previous opponents they faced. His Stand wasn’t anything grand at all; just a small ratty pouch filled with sparkling purple sand.

The weird aspect of the whole situation was when the guy was about to tap out after being at the receiving end of Star Platinum’s punch barrage, only then did he decide to get a fistful of sand from his tiny bag and throw it straight at Jotaro’s face.

Some of it ended up on yours and caused you to close your eyes for a brief second, covering your face as an extra barrier, and when you opened them, you furrowed your brows at the sudden lack of both Jotaro and the knocked-out Stand user.

“What-”

You waved the remaining plume of sand away from your face as you surveyed your surroundings. Don’t tell me- You double-checked the structures surrounding you, the locals walking about, and the general weather. Nope. I’m still in Cairo. The possibility of me in an alternate universe can be crossed out now.

But that didn’t answer the prevailing question of where the fuck did those two go?

“Jotaro-ssi?” You called out to him as you headed your way somewhere. You don’t know where but anywhere will do if it helped finding him. Not that it would be hard to spot a 6’5” tall teenager among the average-height people. “I don’t know if you’re trying to get back at me for teasing you but leaving me by myself isn’t exactly the best decision, asshole.”

You kept scouting the area for any signs of him, turned corners, and explored every alleyway. And still… nothing.

This went on for what felt like 45 minutes and at this point, you sweated a lot and your thighs started to cramp. With your hands on your hips, you groaned in frustration, head tilted to the sky. “Wah, who would’ve known you’d use Mr. Joestar’s family technique against me. Foul play,” you scoffed. “I get it, alright? Just show yourself already.”

Just as you were about to call it quits and assume he just went back to the inn where the others were, something caught your eye at the corner of your vision. In the midst of a parting crowd, you could spot someone standing out from the rest. Someone with a signature ripped hat and coat.

You smirked. “You and your tall ass.”

With a confident stride, you stalked past the unbothered locals and made your way to the towering figure. However, as you neared him, it was only then you noticed the stark difference in his appearance; instead of his primarily black school uniform, he was decked in a purple-dominating outfit with gold accents all over. The design of his chain was different too, changed from the simple golden hoops to one that ended with a golden hook or anchor.

But aside from his grandfather, you knew no one else as tall as the delinquent, so you pushed forward and poked the man’s shoulder. “Hello, I believe you left something valuable back there.”

“Excuse me?”

You stepped back and gaped at the subtle difference in his voice. Not like there were any major differences. It’s still deep and gravelly, but somehow his voice was… milder for lack of a better term. As if it was polished to be more refined.

And as he turned around to look at you, you gaped at the visible changes found in your supposed 17-year-old boyfriend.

Jotaro looked older… way older than he’s supposed to. His cheekbones were more prominent, his eyes a bit sunken, gray streaks of hair lined segments of his head underneath his purple hat, and his hair was trimmed short. Not only that, it seemed that underneath his new flashier coat, he seemed to be built… a bit more. Resembling that of young, about-to-be silver foxes?

You cleared your throat and hoped the warmth in your cheeks faded as instantly as you wished. “Jotaro-ssi?”

He squinted at you, equally confused. “Y/N-ssi?”

“I don’t know if it’s just the heat starting to make me see things, but you look really different… and older.”

“Likewise. You look like your vibrant, youthful self.”

You coughed, trying not to succumb to bashful flattery from the compliment said by the gruff voice of this seemingly more mature Jotaro. “Clearly- well first off, thank you for that- but I’ll have to clarify some things.”

Jotaro tilted his head in curiosity. “I have questions to ask myself. But go on.”

“This might sound stupid but how old are you?”

“40.”

You remained silent, speechless with your brows furrowed and mouth agape as you processed what he said. “F-Forty? 4… 0?”

But he dismissed your surprise and simply asked, “What year is it today?”

“1987?”

Jotaro cursed under his breath, crossing his arms. “Figured… how the hell did this happen?” He let out a deep sigh. “Good grief, I’m too tired for this. Just as I was about to finish paperwork as well.”

“Hey Jo- err mister,” you said. “Can we talk about whatever the heck is going on somewhere that’s not in the open?”

He turned back to you and with one sweeping look around his surroundings, he nodded. “Sure.”

---

It was out of nowhere when he found himself standing in the middle of a marketplace.

Not even a minute passed and with a blink of an eye, Jotaro was no longer in his office signing documents but found himself getting pushed and shoved by a passing crowd of dark to tan-skinned locals. He recognized these buildings and streets. With a cock of his head, he said to himself, “What… Why am I here?”

Just then, someone poked his back. “Hello, I believe you left something valuable back there.”

Wait. “Excuse me?”

He turned around and he grew even more confused as he saw you- or rather, a younger you- behind him, looking up at him with an expression that mirrored his.

This was odd. The last he saw you was mere hours ago as you- a 40-year-old version of you- kissed him goodbye as you headed off to the Foundation to resume work while he stayed behind to focus on tasks related to his day job as a biologist.

But then he considered a couple of things: The buildings of Cairo, the locals, a stunned you being a teenager…

It meant one thing and as he asked you that question, you confirmed it and he was appalled. Nothing happened to him in his timeline, but it wasn’t the case for his younger self.

You offered to bring him back indoors where they could continue the discussion somewhere more private, and with nothing else giving him any solutions to his dilemma, he agreed.

Hence, here they were- sitting a couple of feet apart in a room of an inn with the rest of the Crusaders out still doing their agendas for the day. You sat on the foot of the bed while he remained leaning against the wall, finger under his chin as he tried to figure out what to do.

“Knowing you, I guess you’d rather we talk about possible solutions to your current situation?”

“It won’t be necessary,” Jotaro said. “As it always was with the others, it’s a Stand attack and it caused your Jotaro to swap with me, a future version of him. And since I’m here it means that the ability is currently active. The usual solution to this is to find the user again and tamper with his Stand to bring everything back to normal.”

“We’ll simply approach the old man or the agent currently working with him now to find the latest intel on the Stand user. That way, we can track him down faster. However, since they’re currently out wherever, we’ll simply just wait for them to arrive here and then we can ask for the important details.”

You stared at him with awe. “Woah, you’re much more knowledgeable about this whole Stand business than I thought.”

He shrugged. “Years of experience do that to you.”

“I mean yeah but it’s just wild how age can change a person because look at you!” You said as you made a sweeping gesture over his body. “Not only did you age like fine wine, but you actually grew out of your ‘tough guy’ act into this sage-like adult! Look at you openly sharing a strategy that isn’t just punching.”

Jotaro might have blushed at the ‘fine wine’ comment but pretended to not notice it and said, “I’ve always thought about strategies ever since my teenage years. It’d be dumb if the only solution to everything was a heavy punch or two.”

“I did say ‘openly’, didn’t I?” You raised a brow at him. “Let’s be honest, you did often resort to a classic Star Platinum barrage when it’s offered on the table.”

He thought back to his youth and took into account how often he resorted to simple violence as a quick solution to everything. Huh. I guess you weren’t wrong. “Well… you have a point. But let’s say it’s simply me still learning how Star worked. He did just manifest the same year as the trip.”

“You also called him an evil spirit,” you said. “Poor Star when all he did was protect you.”

Jotaro rolled his eyes and he could’ve sworn a part of his soul did the same thing in him. “I didn’t know better. Besides, he’s grown to be a reliable companion over the years. That I can acknowledge.”

Then there was a moment of silence where you just stared at him without a word. He kept silent as well, staring out the window as he waited for time to pass. “Oh by the way mister,” he glanced at you. “Is that a wedding ring snug on your finger?”

Admittedly, he never expected you to bring up that specific observation but he should’ve seen it coming when he had his arms exposed and crossed for you to eventually see. “Yeah. What about it?”

With a smug look, you interlocked your fingers under your chin and said, “Who’s the lucky person Mr. Kujo?”

Jotaro stared at you and various images of an aged version of you flashed in mind; memories of you during your wedding day, to when he accompanied you as you joined the Speedwagon Foundation, down until you brought your daughter Jolyne into the world and watched her grow into a confident woman with him by your side.

He broke his gaze with a cough and feigned casual stoicism. “I can’t disclose future events.”

Being the same perceptive individual as he knew you in the future, you smirked with a knowing look. “I see. I must say, how lucky they were to bag someone so intellectual and strong. What do you do again aside from tracking Stand users of course? I’m curious.”

“Primarily, I work as one of the leading marine biologists in the institute I’m under, but I part-time as a biology professor at a university in Florida as well.”

“Ooh~” you drawled with an impressed yet bashful smile growing behind the hand covering your pink cheeks. “Such accolades. Guess that interest of yours really took off, huh?”

Jotaro curled his lip, proud of himself for once. “It appeared so.”

“Gotta take notes for when 17-year-old you return,” you snickered. “Got any kids?”

“Perhaps.”

“How many? Girl or boy?”

“A daughter.”

You cooed, holding back a squeal of wholesome adoration. “I knew it. I figured you’d be a girl dad! I can only imagine how cute she is.” Jotaro smiled again. Jolyne was his little bundle of joy indeed. “Though if I’m gonna be honest, I thought she had siblings.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, weren’t you going at it as passionate lovers?”

Jotaro choked on his spit, caught off guard at the sudden question. “Well we are busy adults so we didn’t get many opportunities, but in the occasional moments we do, it is indeed… passionate. You did have the stamina and vigor to ravage me when you could.”

You stared at him, stunned. “What?”

He stared back, not registering what he said. “What?”

And then silence again between two staring individuals.

“Y/N! Jotaro! We’re back!”

Both you and he snapped out of the unintentional staring contest, each of them covering their embarrassed faces behind their hands as they looked anywhere but at each other. You dumbass. Why did you say that?

“W-Well,” you started. “They’re here now. I guess we start finding the guy responsible for this?”

Jotaro reeled from his minute-long foolishness and put his default stone-faced expression back on. “The sooner the better.”

---

Just as he said, beating the enemy Stand user the second time did the trick.

To start, upon seeing one of their companions aged up significantly, the Crusaders reasonably questioned both of you about what the hell was going on and you explained half of what had happened, only for Jotaro to help you out by continuing the other half of the conversation.

And you weren’t going to lie, but learning that he was able to voice out his thoughts more openly than before was both admiring and attractive. But your apparent affinity for hot older men with kids will be tackled on another day. Probably never.

After disclosing the need to locate the pocket sand Stand user, Mr. Joestar and the agent working with him were able to track his current location and the first second it was revealed, both of you wasted no time and hurried over to the man responsible.

Luckily for both of you, you didn’t have to resort to any more violence as the user- already beaten down and recovering from his injuries- complied with whatever you wanted out of him and let him hand over his magic Stand sand.

You and old man Jotaro said your goodbyes. It was nothing too special nor was it anything emotional. You were surprised to see a future version of your boyfriend, got fascinated by his progress in life, and now not only were you about to meet up with the current Jotaro and spill the news about what he was to become, you also got to bring back the adult to his timeline.

A win-win for everyone.

Little did you know just as the sand struck him again, the plumes still managed to fly onto your face and caused your eyes to shut and your brain to fuzz out momentarily.

When you opened them again, you were met with the classic punk delinquent Jotaro that you knew and love.

He coughed and waved the remaining sand cloud hovering around you and said, “What the hell was that?”

“An inconvenience that’s what,” you said. “Oh! By the way, I have something to share with you!”

“Same. You go first.”

“Alright, so…” You started with enthusiasm, only for your words to trail off as your mind ran blank. “I… uh, I don’t remember what I was about to say actually.”

Jotaro crossed his arms. “Oh really?”

“You know I don’t joke about this,” you whined. “Well, how about you go ahead and tell me about your day then, hm?”

He didn’t say anything as he looked elsewhere, eyes deep in concentration as he was trying to search for a specific memory in his brain, and after a minute or two of nothing, you smirked at him. “Well? Where’s the story time, Jotaro-ssi?”

“Fuck, I can’t recall anything.”

You chuckled. “I thought so. Serves you right for doubting me.”

“H-Hey, can I go now?”

You and Jotaro turned to the meek ex-enemy Stand user, hands up under the heavy weight of your stares. He looked at you and cocked a brow. “Your call.”

At that, you shrugged. “Sure.” You turned to the delinquent with a content smile. He, in turn, averted his gaze away from yours with faint reddened cheeks. “I already got what I need from you.”

[haerin1]

hcs you have for Scara? Love seeing new writers around here 🫶

꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱ SCARA HEADCANNONS.

note: omh ty for the req !! i did 2 versions bcause i got carried away UM anw enjoy xoxo kisses hugs :33

[wanderer!scara, modern au!scara x gn!reader] fluff, pinches of angst, mentioned mommy issues and trust issues !!

modern au scara !!

Scara is definitely a band kid and in my opinion, he'd absolutely be an electric bassist. He carries around the band-aids you gave him so he can use one whenever his fingertips get cut from the tough strings of the instrument.

Scara loves judging everybody in his classes and making people uncomfortable because he's a menace like that. His narrowed sapphire gaze following certain people with ill thoughts and a slight grimace; you already know he's judging them real hard.

It's simply impossible for him to go a day, no, even an hour, without his headphones and downloaded music from his favourite artists. Scara's music taste consists mostly of Chase Atlantic, Artic Monkeys, TV Girl, Cigarettes After Sex and he's a closeted Mitski listener.

Mommy issues and miscommunication trope with Ei. Scara aspires to be anything else but the occupation Ei suggested for him. Ei compares Scara to his sister, Raiden, without knowing it hurts Scara's feelings because she's bad at communicating and getting her words right overall.

Shops at Hot Topic and Miniso. Miniso, because he only goes there for the Kuromi stuff that reminds him of you (since you're always telling him how you and him are literally Kuromi and Badtzmaru) and Hot Topic is self-explanatory.

Adding onto the Kuromi and Badtzmaru topic. Ever since you made that comment, Scara ended up loving that specific pair of cute Sanrio characters. He now owns a Badtzmaru hoodie (yours is a Kuromi one: hashtag couple goals), five Kuromi figures and more than thirty things consist of Badtzmaru in his bedroom.

Scara's bedroom is neat but messy at the same time. The room is fairly big and he has his bassist on its stand in the corner of the room with a huge Badtzmaru plushie sitting on the floor by it. His bed is filled with your gifts of plushies from past dates or occasions.

Scara has an area dedicated to his favourite music artists with posters of their albums plastered to the black painted wall. You bought him TV Girl's French Exit vinyl for his birthday, which he always plays on the record player whenever you come over or when he's missing you (by missing you, I mean whenever you're not with him).

Everytime you mention a new song you like, Scara immediately learns it on his bass so he can impress you. You find it so cute how these little gestures of his are all for your compliments and affection when all he could do is breathe and you'd be head over heels for him.

Scara is unfiltered, cunning and a tease. He'll say whatever he wants at any given time and doesn't mind what people think at all (he fights back the urge to rock someone's shit when they disagree with him.) He's your cute little drama queen.

genshin au scara (wanderer) !!

Wanderer's favourite time of day is when the sun starts to set and he gets to have his long awaited tea time with you. You know the perfect way on how to make his tea and it's so natural to the point of when Wanderer tastes any other tea, it just can't compare to the way you make it.

Despite loving you very dearly, and he'd never admit this last bit aloud, he still has some sort of doubt against you. Should something happen to you that marks your permanent disappearance that neither you or him could prevent, what would he do? Wanderer simply does not know. And he certainly wouldn't want to know.

Wanderer enjoys the feeling of your hands in his hair. Whether your hands are soft, rough, cold, or warm, he doesn't mind. He just loves feeling your gentle and affectionate touch against his head as you play with his hair or even braid some strands together.

In general, Wanderer loves physical touch. Holding hands, soft kisses and hugs; It's all so wonderful to him. It makes him feel wanted and loved, like you actually think of him dearly. He loves it especially when you initiate it first. After that, he'll be more than comfortable doing it without waiting for you to do it ahead of him.

Wanderer keeps all of the silly trinkets, gifts and letters you've given him in a box that's kept in a very safe place where no one knows, not even you. Everytime he comes across it, unknowingly to him, a soft smile forms on his lips as he remembers the fact that he's this important to you.

Wanderer absolutely adores it when he makes you smile or laugh. He'll proudly smirk and throw in a teasing remark at this but is hiding the fact that he's just an embarrassed doll with an adorable lover. He loves making you feel good, both verbally and physically, as it feeds his ego and reassures him that he's doing great at being your beloved.

Wanderer's gifts for you are usually handmade, like the cute doll that looks like you which he got to keep so he could give you a doll that looks like him in return. He loves seeing you carry the doll around with you when you want to take it out of your messenger bag, holding it so gently as if it were Wanderer himself.

Whenever you're not paying attention, Wanderer looks at you and observes you. He loves noticing new little things about you, like the way you make little popping noises with your lips when you're bored or the way you subconsciously reach out to hold onto his hand. He adores every, single, little thing.

Wanderer often finds himself trying to impress you. If he sees you walking about, he'll immediately find something heavy to pick up and "coincidentally" run into you so he can make sure you see his amazing skills. You find this habit of his somewhat adorable as you smile and praise him for his strengths. He ends up getting quite flustered, in the end.

Depending on Wanderer's mood, he'll be very flirty one moment or very shy the next. If you manage to outdo him with his charming comments, trust me, he turns into the cutest blushing mess ever. He'll look away as he denies your question about whether he became timid or not.

🐾🍫🍮 : © haerin1 (do not translate, steal or take too much inspo from my works)

[miss-hyoko]

Hello there! I'd like to order a "childhood arranged marriage" gado gado with Leona please! Thank you very much 💖

"This is your order, dear customer. A plate full of [The Lion's Fiancé(e)] gado-gado. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No? Then, I hope you have a pleasant meal."

The Lion's Fiancé(e)

Character: Leona

Summary: You were betrothed to Leona since childhood

Tag(s) and warning(s): GN!Reader, fluff, romantic, reader is NOT Yuu, arranged marriage, a bit spoiler about Leona's past, Leona being a little shit (affectionately)

Note: AAAH, MY FIRST REQUEST IS HERE! Thank you for requesting, anon. Your idea is so wonderful that it almost made me get a brainrot for this lion 😩✋

To establish a good relationship with the royal family of Sunset Savanna, your family then decided to make you the betrothed of Leona, the second prince of Sunset Savanna. Because of that, you often visit Leona at the palace to deepen your relationship.

The first time you met little Leona, he's kind of... a brat. He didn't hesitate to show his disdain towards you, his forced fiancé(e). Starting from the way his tail always twitching in displeasure at the mere sight of you, his ears that drop flat, and even the angry expression that adorns his face every time he senses your presence. Little Leona thought he must look very intimidating. But in your eyes, he's no different from a grumpy kitten, it makes you just want to stroke his fluffy-looking ears and tail. And how could Leona miss the way your eyes twinkle following every movement of his tail? The audacity you had!

The next meetings you spend trying to coax your grumpy kitten fiancé. Leona constantly tries to hide every time you come to visit, but somehow you always manage to find him, as if you put a tracking device on him. Over time, Leona himself felt tired from this silly mouse cat game, and he decided to give up on his fate, which was to be your fiancé. Now, every time you come to the palace, you just need to go straight to Leona's room without having to bother looking for him again around the palace.

Since getting engaged to you, Leona started to develop a new habit. And that habit is that he always deliberately sleeps on one side of the mattress, while the other side he leaves for you. He did that not because he's kind, alright? He deliberately left a place on the mattress so that you wouldn't crush him again while he was sleeping, using a stupid excuse like 'you also want to lie down, but you can't because he sleeps right in the middle of the bed'.

Leona knew he was disliked and feared by the palace attendants, all because of the frightening power he has. There were even times when Leona himself hated the power he possessed. For him, turning everything he touches into sand is a curse. But you, you say that his terrifying power is a blessing. When a disaster occurs and debris is scattered, his power can turn all the debris into sand, thus making it easier for the rescue process. And as if to prove the seriousness of your words, you held his hand, pressed it against your face, and looked into Leona's eyes with a small smile, in such a way that say 'look? I'm fine, aren't I?'. And really, that was the only moment where Leona tried his best to keep his tears in their place, hoping they won't stream down his cheeks (and he failed miserably).

Leona may never say this, but he actually enjoys –no, he loves– the time he spends together with you. All this time, he was used to growing up compared to his brother, insults and ridicules had become his daily consumption. But when you come into his life, seeing him for who he is without judging him, looking at him with eyes full of wonder instead of fear, how can Leona's heart not be open to you?

Almost all the beastmen in Sunset Savanna know that their second prince has a fiancé(e) and he's very a bit protective of them. Every time the two of you went out for an outing, Leona would put his hands around your waist or shoulders to let people know that you're with him. If someone dares to stare at you a little longer than necessary, Leona will immediately growl at that poor fellow until they take their eyes from you.

When you come to Savanaclaw to meet your fiancé, all the students there will surely greet you in a very friendly way. Gone is their usual brashness, replaced by a sickeningly polite smile. All because Leona has given them orders to treat you with an utmost respect, even they should be more respectful to you than to him. If someone's being disrespectful to you, then Leona himself will personally teach them a lesson or two about respecting one's fiancé(e).

You may not know, but Leona always tries very hard to control himself to not 'eat' you every time you do something he finds adorable, like holding his hands, sleeping on his chest, giving him a peck here and there, and other things that can make his heart beat faster than it normally does. It's not just once or twice that Leona has dirty thoughts about you, and every time those dirty thoughts start popping into his head, Leona will rush away from you to 'take care' of himself first. He may be a beastman, but he's still sane enough not to force himself on you before the marriage. Well, unless you don't mind?

All in all, Leona treats you pretty well as his fiancé(e). He may not be the nicest fiancé you can have, but he's not the worst either. He can respect your boundaries, listen to your opinions on some things, and take good care of you. The downside may be that he's not very responsive, sometimes ignores you, and also easily irritated by small things. But despite it all, you should know that Leona really cares about you. His high ego makes it a little hard for him to apologize and admit his mistakes, but if you talk to him first, he will definitely apologize in the end. Albeit, with a voice so small that you can barely even hear it.

[rinneroraito]

Candy Man

Seated at one of the benches, gripping my phone with both hands on my lap, my accessories clinking together as I fidgeted. Couples continued to walk past me, oblivious to anything else besides each other. I sighed.

February 14, 2016, 2:46 pm. Sunday at a park. And on Valentine's Day, nonetheless.

Forty-six minutes have passed since our scheduled time to meet. My “date” hasn’t arrived yet. He hasn’t responded to the message I sent him fifteen minutes ago. Nor to the other messages I sent him before I even got here. He hasn’t picked up my calls either, and it took all of my strength to try calling him, my hands shaking as I did. I figured I’d give him a little more time, he could have been in an emergency and had no time to answer me but..

No.

No… Face it Rinne. He bailed out on you. Stop making excuses for people. Why do you do this to yourself?

I stared into the crowd of people walking past me, not really focusing on anything, just gazing at nothing. The background fades into a blur as I entertain my thoughts and a hand comes up to my mouth on instinct, squeezing my cheeks together in an attempt to collect my thoughts.

What went wrong this time? Was I too forward? Did they actually come here, see me and decided I wasn’t worth the shot? Was it my outfit that looks nothing like what I wear on my personal social media? Was this experiment even worth it? That if I presented myself differently compared to my social media, I can gauge how interested they are to pursue a relationship with me? Wait, it’s reasonable, right? Not everyone even actually posts all of their pictures on the internet. And these are the usual clothes I wear when I feel like spending time and effort to look how I like… Why are they not here? I thought things were going well. We talked about and planned this date a week ago and…

Out of the blur of the background a heart-shaped lollipop meticulously held up by someone’s thumb and forefinger comes into view and I snap back into focus, not even realizing I’ve been staring into space, zoning out.

I blink a few times, looking up from the hand with which the candy extended out of and I see a young man wearing a white long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans, with wide piercing dark eyes set on a pale face. His thick hair stuck out on the ends and it shifted ever so slightly as he leaned towards my direction. I was so taken aback by his motion that I just noticed how he had dark shadows under his eyes when I looked up at him again.

“Hi, I saw you staring and judging by the way you're holding on to your phone anticipating a reply, you look like you could use something sweet.”

My mouth hangs open as he speaks in an oddly monotonous cadence.

“I was- Pardon?”

“Sugar is known to boost one’s mood due to the fact that consuming it increases serotonin, a neurotransmitter that regulates it. Please, I insist.” He reaches the candy out to me again, beckoning me to take it. I gingerly bring my hand up towards him to hold the candy by the stick. Once he was sure that I had a firm grip on it, he lets go and proceeds to take the space on the bench right beside me. But he doesn’t sit. He leaves his sneakers on the ground and brings his feet up on the bench, his knees pressed against his chest. Then, he takes something out of his pocket, another confectionery? Oh, fruit roll-ups. Strawberry fruit roll-ups. He daintily shreds the wrapper open using only his thumb and forefinger on each hand and proceeds to take a bite out of it.

I caught myself staring and tried to recover my senses by twirling the heart-shaped lollipop as I held it. “Um, thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome,” he answers while chewing. “There was a man giving them out to people who didn’t come with a date.”

“Ouch,” My brow furrows in pained amusement. “Adding salt to the wound, aren’t you?”

“Just stating the facts. Most people would have been offended by me pointing out their companionless state but you seem to be taking it well.”

Staring at the candy I received, I replied.

“What good would it do to me if I got offended by it? I’m already quite frustrated with today’s events, I don’t feel like entertaining another negative emotion.” I turn towards him and find him scanning me from head to toe, the fruit roll-up hanging by his lips as he chews the rest of it up to his mouth.

“I can see how your fashion sense could intimidate men with a lower IQ,” he speaks as he chews.  “You should filter your dating pool better.”

“Perceptive, I see. I guess I was being obvious,” I chuckled. “Trust me, it’s filtered enough. Although this time, I did try to cast my net a little wider by considering seeing someone recommended to me by a friend.”

“So, I am right. You got stood up by your date.”

A laugh escapes my lips as I turn to my side to look at him. “Yea, you are. And on Valentine’s Day of all days, too.”

“How very unfortunate. I suppose your date lacked the integrity to carry through the plans you’ve previously made and have agreed on.” He takes the rest of the fruit roll up out of the wrapper and pops it into his mouth. “If I may be bold, I’d say you’ve dodged a bullet.”

“I suppose I have. Hold up, I’m going to block them now.” I put the lollipop in my mouth so I could use both of my hands to scroll through my phone and block the guy. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I thought to myself. Oh wow, that’s a strong strawberry flavor.

“A good decision. I firmly believe that sincerity is essential between two people who plan to pursue a relationship with each other. If one cannot reciprocate nor hold themselves accountable for their errors, it’s just going to cause problems in the long run. It’s only rational.”

“It is, it is,” I say with the lollipop in my mouth, removing it so I could say more. “ Are you here just to see the sights? You don’t strike me as a person who has a date.” I teased.

“There’s plenty of limited-edition candy during the celebration of Valentine’s Day. I, for one, am fond of all the strawberry flavored confections and how they come in more interesting shapes. That is all.”

“You sure do like sweets, huh?” I looked at the heart shaped lollipop on my hand. “And yeah, you’re right,  there are more ways to spend Valentine’s Day than just going out on a date.”

He stared at me with his keen, dark eyes and even though they were quite intense, I couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Again, thank you for this! And uh, just to be clear, I wasn’t staring at you. I was zoning out.”

He seemed to be surprised with this confession, evident by the slight widening of his eyes, like he raised his eyebrows that were somehow… nonexistent? Huh…

“Oh, is that so? And here I thought you were staring at me out of your lonesomeness and jarring lack of confectionery despite it being Valentine’s. Forgive me for imposing and taking your time.”

“No, no! Don’t worry about it, in fact…”

The heart shaped candy glistens as I twirl the stick between my fingers, a smile playing on my lips as I purse them together before I continue my thought.

“This has, indeed, boosted my mood. Thank you so much.” I looked back at the strange, yet charming young man, beaming at him. His sharp eyes, accentuated with the shadows under them, seemed to relax as he stared at me in response, now with a thumb pressed to his lips.

“You know, it’s such a shame your date didn’t proceed with his decision to go out with you today. I would date you.”

The way he said something quite sweet in such a monotonous voice caused me to laugh, my shoulders bouncing in glee.

“Why thank you, but I think I’m gonna spend the rest of this day with a friend. I’m closing my dating book for now at least. Although…” I pressed the back of my fingers to my chin.

“I am compelled to give you something back for this lollipop.”

“You are? Hmm… I actually wouldn’t mind receiving anything of equal value.”

I twirled the heart-shaped lollipop between my fingers for a moment, thinking of what to give to him. Of course, giving him money would be weird and would make our encounter awfully transactional, so I figured I could do the next best thing.

Smoothing out my skirt I got up from my side of the bench and walked over to him. He kept his eyes trained on me the entire time, his thumb still pressed to his lips.

It was honestly adorable seeing his mostly impassive demeanor break slightly when I laid a hand on his shoulder and leaned closer to him, planting a kiss on his cheek.

When I pulled away, I realized my lipstick wasn’t as “transfer-proof” as advertised, leaving a bright red kiss mark on his pale cheek. He sits sort of frozen in place wide-eyed as he brings a hand up to where I kissed him.

“Oh, shoot, and it was supposed to be transfer-proof… Oh well, at least now you'll give everyone else who sees you today the impression that you weren't lonely on Valentine's,” I chuckled.

“Are you sure I can’t take you out to dinner?”

He asks, his expression seemingly more excited.

“It’s fine, really. Besides, I got a friend I have to call and demand an apology from since she was the one that recommended I go on a date with the guy.”

I bring my free hand up to my face, squeezing my cheeks together as I take a deep breath.

“You know, if things were different, I would go out with you.”

“You would?”

“Yea, I would. Maybe if we meet again next time.”

His eyes light up at my statement and as I was about to add more to what I just said, my phone rings.

“Oh shoot, that’s the friend I just mentioned. Anyway, thanks again for keeping me company.”

I smile and wave the candy at him before popping it into my mouth to answer my phone, walking away.

“Hikari,” I greeted the caller, taking the lollipop out of my mouth again to talk to the caller. 

“So I guess you found out he bailed on me?... You knew from the start??? Then-”

Resisting the urge to yell at the phone, I inhaled deeply then looked at the heart-shaped lollipop on my hand.

“You’re lucky there was someone kind enough to…”

My eyes widened as the realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

 “Oh holy shit, I never asked what his name was!”

By the time I turned around to look where I came from to at least get a glimpse of where he was headed, there was no trace of him. I had already walked a considerable distance, too. The caller’s voice snaps me back to the conversation and to the heart-shaped lollipop on my other hand.

“Sorry, I’m still here. Don’t worry,  I’ll tell you about a ‘Candy Man’ when we meet.”

[moonshynecybin]

context here and here... short fic (~1k words) about reporter au marc, turning over what their sepang could be... unspeakably divorced vibes to this one...

Marc lays the recorder down in front of Valentino. He starts, carefully neutral:

“So. You were a little bit shaky on the braking this weekend, was there any specific reason? It looked like you were having trouble with grip?”

Vale crosses his arms, narrow posture folding.

“Marc.” He counters. Face serious.

Marc ignores him. Ignores the tornado shredding his stomach. He scribbles something in his notebook, mindlessly underlining a question he doesn’t even want to ask. He’s been trying to keep it more professional, after the last few weeks. After—

“Do you need me to repeat the question?” He says.

Vale doesn’t give an inch. “Why did you write that article?”

So he did see it. Marc flicks his eyes up from his notebook, quick. Vale’s eyes bore into him. unerring. Feline.

He shrugs a little. Sucks on his teeth.

“Did you have a problem with it?” He shouldn’t, really. Wouldn’t if it were anyone else. Marc’s just doing his job, he won’t compromise that for anyone. Journalism isn't about making people happy.

“No.” Vale says, and Marc’s asked him enough questions at this point to know what he looks like when he lies.

He fingers the end of Marc’s recorder. Long hands against shitty plastic. He switches it off.

“You didn’t tell me this was going to be off the record.” Marc says mildly, like he’s joking. He doesn’t know what Vale wants from this— apparently not an interview—and judging by the expression dragging at the corners of his face, the chances of Vale indulging the small part of Marc scaffolded on hope are slim. In fact, a picture is starting to form, uneasy and edgy, lighting the barely-dormant spark of hurt in his gut.

He can’t be serious.

Vale laughs, brittle and hard.

“So you don’t regret it?”

He is serious.

Marc puts his pen down as something in him clenches, sick and determined. Vale can’t— he shouldn’t get to do this, after the last few weeks. shouldn’t get to be mad at him for the sort of article that he wouldn’t care about if anyone else had written it. Not after how he's ignored Marc, skipping over him in press scrums. After how he implied Marc was overstepping, too familiar. Not professional. After how Marc— after they—

After.

Marc feels like an idiot. Whatever. His piece is still good, his writing stands on its own. It asks valid questions, makes the correct comparisons, and gives Jorge Lorenzo a few hard-earned compliments. It's an incisive article. Interesting. Impersonal. Entirely professional.

Just like Vale wanted.

“Why would I?”

Vale keeps studying him, and Marc thinks a muscle jumps in his jaw. He meets him head on, intense. That same chemistry that they’ve been building for the last few seasons turned sour now, crackling like a live wire. Vale’s eyes drop to Marc’s mouth, then back to his eyes. His expression sets.

Marc sees him arrive at some sort of conclusion.

It can’t be just about the article— others have said worse, gone farther. Marc was careful to stay in bounds, tame and even normal compared to some of the other journos in the paddock. No remarks about his personality or his age. Just a few observations about how Jorge is steadily gaining in the standings, and how Vale is slowly losing the lead he’s had all season. The facts, as Marc sees them. Objective.

But Marc has also never written anything like that before. Has built a name for himself on complex opinions and strategic analysis. On the experience he has as a former racer, and as someone who was supposed to be on the other side of the recorder— supposed to be answering questions instead of asking them. On interviews strengthened by the easy, genuine relationship he has with Valentino Rossi.

But it’s not like he can exactly rely on that last one anymore.

Vale tilts his head forward, eyebrows up. A wry little expression plays across his face, there for a flash, before he shakes his head and pushes back his chair.

“Eh, I guess you are right.” Vale stands, nods. He leans over the table and waves a hand in the air, face animated. Cheerful, if you don’t know him. Studied nonchalance. “Why would you? It’s your job.”

He says the last bit like it means something, extra emphasis on each syllable.

“It is my job.” Marc agrees.

“Right.” Vale says, after a moment, tension threading through them both, taught as a bow string.

He says it like it’s final. Like it’s the end of something. It's exactly the same tone of voice he used a few weeks ago in Phillip Island, when Marc had stumbled out of the cold bed in his crappy hotel room and saw Vale fully dressed, looking for his wallet. About to leave. His head had whipped up when he saw Marc awake, and the look on his face was crystal clear. Had made Marc abruptly feel like he was about to vomit, cold rising from his toes as Vale started to speak.

Too young. Too close. Too unprofessional.

Right.

“Right.” Vale says again now, confirming whatever he sees in Marc’s face, blue eyes clear and remote. The hinge of his jaw is wound tight, day-old stubble blurring his sideburns.

Marc’s chest throbs.

He doesn’t say anything, lets the silence fill the room until it’s about to burst.

Vale stares at him a minute longer before he turns and leaves, door swinging behind him.

Marc sits there, staring at his notebook for a long time.

He doesn’t end up writing anything.

[gloomyearthling]

Scars - A BG3 One-Shot

WARNING: story implies/ references SA, discussions of emotional and physical trauma, descriptions of scars and self-harm-related themes, mild references to violence, and mild sexual themes.

WC: 2765

PAIRING: Astarion & my OC Alluna Duskfire

RATING: Mature -- meaning people 18 and up can only read this.

SUMMARY: In a quiet moment under the stars, Alluna Duskfire and Astarion find themselves confronting the emotional and physical scars left by their pasts. What begins as a meaningless encounter turns into a vulnerable exchange of pain and understanding, as both realize they share more than just battle wounds. Together, they discover that healing doesn’t always come from solitude, but from finding someone who understands your brokenness.

Astarion was supposed to be just another one-night stand, another meaningless encounter with someone who wanted to use her for something. The spawn pretended to genuinely care for her, but Alluna knew better. It was a game she had played since the… incident. So, when he approached her with his signature smirk, his voice low and husky as he described the wonderful night they were going to have, how he was going to make her feel, Alluna accepted. She knew damn well it was all a façade. He didn’t want her—he wanted her protection, her loyalty. And she? She just wanted a night to blow off steam, to feel something that wasn’t the empty hollowness that had taken root inside her.

Someone, a long time ago, had taken her happiness, her self-respect, her will to live. These days, she was careless, impulsive, with little regard for her own life. Her companions often chastised her, accusing her of endangering not only herself but the mission as a whole. But Alluna didn’t care. It was all a means to an end.

Thankfully, the pale elf didn’t judge her. If anything, he revelled in her self-destructive tendencies. Whether because he saw himself in her or because he enjoyed watching her unravel, she neither knew nor cared.

He didn’t try to save her like Wyll and Halsin, didn’t scold her like Shadowheart or Lae’zel, didn’t offer comfort like Karlach or logic like Gale. He simply let her be, sometimes even partaking in her reckless escapades. His ambitions were separate from hers, but they both shared that approach-life-with-careless-abandon attitude, and that was all she needed. In fact, she found herself enjoying things more when he was around. He was a breath of fresh air compared to the other killjoys in the party.

But Alluna knew their blossoming friendship wasn’t real. They were both using each other—he needed protection against his former master, and she needed a companion to be reckless with.

As evening approached, she mentally prepared herself. This is just a means to an end. It’s transactional. That’s all. Yet despite the pep talk, her nerves tingled. She felt... nervous.

Alluna chalked it up to the long, trying day and settled into her bedroll. She noticed Astarion grinning at her, his eyes raking up and down her body. Tonight’s the night. She matched his seductive gaze, even biting her lip for added effect. Everyone else she had been with reacted in kind—desire, lust, hunger swirling in their eyes. Some would blow her kisses, others winked, but they always reacted.

Astarion was different. Even though he smiled, there was something behind his eyes. It wasn’t lust. It was something else. Something Alluna was familiar with but had long since buried.

I’m imagining it. You’ve got him wrapped around your little finger. She shook her head, pushing the thoughts aside as she lay on her back, staring up at the stars. They were breath-taking, but she felt nothing. She rolled to her side, her mind drifting back to when she used to stargaze with him. It had been their favourite pastime. They’d lie beneath the stars and talk about the future they’d build together. He had wanted to marry her, to have children with her.

No. Don’t give him the time of day. She clenched her jaw, forcing the memory away. He’s far away now. Forget him.

She focused on the fire instead, watching the flames dance, casting a warm glow over her companions’ sleeping forms. The sound of gentle and loud snores soon filled the camp. Everyone was asleep. Astarion seemed to notice too, because he stood and slowly made his way over to where Alluna lay.

Showtime.

He knelt beside her, gently shaking her shoulder. She peered up, grinning at him.

“We’ve waited long enough, darling…” he purred, his voice like velvet.

Alluna sat up, her smile growing. “I agree. But where should we go?”

“Oh, I know a place…” He stood and slowly made his way toward the forest, pausing momentarily to glance coyly over his shoulder. “Follow me, lover.”

She rose to her feet, careful not to wake her slumbering companions, and quickly but silently chased after him. He led her through the woods until they reached a clearing. Along the way, he whispered sweet nothings, his words soft and seductive, carefully crafted to draw her in. Alluna knew exactly what he was doing, sweetening her up so she’d follow a literal vampire into the dark woods under the pretense of pleasure. And she went willingly, knowing he wouldn’t harm her. Strangely enough, she trusted him.

“Stay here,” he whispered in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “I’m going to get myself ready.”

He pulled away, his smirk never faltering as he backed into the shadows. Yet, beneath that grin, there was something else. A flicker of effort, as though he were hiding something. A mask carefully curated for this moment, but underneath... something stirred. Something that tugged at a familiar place deep inside Alluna.

She forced herself to stay in the present, tuning out the sensation. As he disappeared behind a tree, she began undressing, assuming he was doing the same. Once she was down to her undergarments, she adjusted her top to cover her chest just as Astarion reappeared, stepping out from behind the tree in nothing but his pants. Alluna’s eyes wandered, taking him in. She had to admit, he was beautiful—the way his hair curled around his ears, the lines that formed in the rare moments when he laughed. It always made her heart flutter.

“I see you’ve partially undressed yourself for me. Do you need help with the rest?” His voice broke her trance.

Alluna glanced up at him, forcing a smile. “No, I like to keep my bra on. Just a preference.”

It was the same thing she told all her past lovers when they asked. The bra covered her chest, concealing her scars, which some found infuriating. But not Astarion. In fact, if anything, he looked... relieved. No, that can’t be right. You’re just misreading him.

He stepped closer, stopping just inches from her. They stood like that for a moment, taking in each other’s presence before Alluna reached out and gently ran her hand down his chest. The anxiety she’d felt earlier returned, bubbling up, refusing to fade despite her best efforts to push it away. She actually felt nervous about what was about to happen with Astarion, though she couldn’t understand why.

“So, are you ready for the best night of your life, darling?” he whispered, his fingers tracing lightly down her arm, sending a shiver through her.

She nodded, tilting her head up to meet his kiss. The moment their lips touched, her heart fluttered in a way it hadn’t in years—not since him. Alluna pushed the thought away, burying it beneath the desire she felt for the vampire. She pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him to deepen the kiss. They broke apart only briefly to shed the rest of their clothes—aside from her bra—before their lips met again. Astarion lifted her effortlessly, and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he pressed her back against a tree.

The bark dug into her skin, but she didn’t care. She pushed against the tree, making Astarion stumble backward and fall to the ground. Grinning, she straddled him, leaning down to tenderly kiss him. He responded in kind, rolling them over so she was beneath him. She chuckled, wrapping her arms around him—and froze when her hands brushed over his scars.

Her brows furrowed as she traced the rough, angry marks on his back. Astarion tensed beneath her touch. She explored the scars further, her fingertips lingering on the damaged skin. Alluna’s heart skipped a beat as she pulled away, looking into his eyes.

For a fleeting moment, something unreadable flashed across his face before his mask slid back into place. “What’s the matter, darling? I thought you were enjoying yourself.”

Alluna hesitated, torn between ignoring the scars and asking him about them. But the ache from her own long-healed wounds throbbed, reminding her of that horrible night.

He must have noticed her expression because he pulled back, his grin faltering into a frown—not one of anger or disappointment, but of fear, like a child awaiting punishment for a crime they hadn’t meant to commit.

“Astarion, what happened?” Alluna’s voice was soft, cautious.

He crossed his arms over his chest, as if physically closing himself off from her. His eyes flicked away, avoiding hers as he shrugged. “Something Cazador gave me,” he muttered, his voice small but tinged with anger—though it wasn’t directed at her.

She hesitated, sensing his unease, his weariness. Alluna had spent so long in her own trance, feeling hollow, numb. That emptiness had driven her to act rashly, to seek brushes with death just to feel something. She had built a wall around her emotions after what he had done to her—an impenetrable barrier that kept everything locked inside.

“Why did he do that to you?” she asked, though it wasn’t the question she truly wanted to ask. She didn’t feel like it was her place to ask to see his scars.

Astarion scoffed, sitting back on his heels. “I don’t know. He said it was a poem.” A haunting look crossed his face. “He made... a lot of revisions that night.”

A cold chill ran down her spine, bringing with it the phantom ache of her own scars, as though they were freshly carved into her skin. An unwanted memory surged to the surface, threatening to pull her under, no matter how hard she fought against it.

The night she got the scars. The night he took everything from her.

Her breath hitched as the weight of the memory pressed down on her chest, suffocating her. She could almost hear his voice—the same voice that once promised her everything, only to destroy her completely. She remembered the emptiness, how the world had closed in on her, how the walls of her reality had collapsed, shattering her sense of safety and self like fragile glass.

She had never felt so small, so helpless, so... lost.

And then, as the night had dragged into morning, she remembered lying there, motionless. He hadn’t been finished with her yet. He had wanted to leave a parting gift. A memento for her to remember him by—scars carved into her chest. A reminder, he had said, of the night she wished she could forget.

Even now, the ghost of that night haunted her, lingering in every reckless decision, every impulsive act, every time she shoved the pain down, refusing to let it rise to the surface.

Hot tears streaked her cheeks, pulling her back to the present. Astarion was watching her. She hastily wiped the tears away, but the confusion in his eyes was clear as they sat there, illuminated by the pale moonlight, surrounded by the quiet forest. Her hand, which had instinctively rested over the scars on her chest, finally fell to her lap as her bottom lip quivered.

The silence between them felt heavy, suffocating. Neither of them dared to speak, as if the words were too fragile for the moment. But Alluna knew that this silence wouldn’t last forever. Eventually, they would have to face it. They couldn’t stay in this moment, frozen by fear and uncertainty, forever.

An idea popped into Alluna’s head—one that felt absurd, but in a way, made sense. “Y-You’re not the only one with scars, Astarion…” she whispered.

His brows furrowed. “What?” It was all he could manage, and she didn’t blame him. The night had been confusing for both of them.

Reluctantly, and with trembling hands, she began undoing her brassiere. Her nerves screamed at her to stop, but her body refused to comply, as though acting on instinct. Deep down, beneath the anxiety, the pain, the uncertainty, she trusted him. Somehow, she knew he would understand her plight—her pain, her fear. As his gaze softened, she saw the same emotions reflected in his eyes. It was as if he felt exactly what she did.

“What are you doing?” he finally asked, his voice tentative.

“I don’t know,” Alluna murmured, shaking her head. “I just… feel like this is something I need to do.”

With that, she removed her shield—her protection.

Her body tensed, and her arms instinctively rose to cover herself. She fought against it, forcing herself to let him see her wounds, her shame. His features softened as he looked from the scars on her chest to her eyes. Part of her had expected to see pity or disgust, but instead, there was only understanding. He knew her pain. He felt it himself—just as she had known he would.

“What did that to you?” he asked softly, though Alluna hesitated. She didn’t want to answer. But a part of her felt compelled to.

“His name is Romaran,” she whispered, his name tasting like poison on her tongue. “We were… engaged to be married. He promised me the world.” Her voice caught in her throat as she stifled a sob. “The bastard promised me everything. He said we’d have a beautiful future together, with a big house and children.” She let out a bitter laugh, and Astarion listened patiently, giving her the space to continue at her own pace—something she was grateful for.

“One night, he… I don’t know, he just snapped. He…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it. “He had his way with me. Then, he carved these into my chest. ‘A reminder of the beautiful night we spent together,’ he said.”

Alluna’s fingers grazed the mangled flesh. While she carried the physical and emotional scars of that night, Romaran was living comfortably in Baldur’s Gate. He had the house. He had the wife and children. What did she have? A worm in her skull and a mountain of baggage shoved into a box deep inside her mind.

Astarion's voice broke the silence. “Cazador forced me to lure pretty things back to him with my body. I had no say in the matter. I had to obey him or face his wrath…” His face twisted with rage as he looked down at his hands. “I must’ve sent hundreds to their deaths.”

He paused, his voice quieter now, almost trembling. “I hated every moment of it. But I had no choice. I was just a tool to him, nothing more. I was... disposable.” His fingers curled into fists, nails digging into his palms. “Every smile, every word I whispered—it wasn’t me. It was him. And I’d watch as their trust in me became their doom.”

He looked away, shame etched into every line of his face. “I didn’t even get to decide when I fed. That was his choice, too. I was nothing but a puppet, a body for him to use, again and again.”

Alluna chuckled bitterly, though there was no humour in it. “Looks like we’re both damaged goods.” She wanted to cry, but there were no tears. Only emptiness.

Astarion nodded solemnly. “It would seem so.”

Alluna glanced over at him and exhaled shakily. “Not how I imagined this night going.”

He laughed softly, a genuine smile tugging at his lips.

“D-Do you think it would be okay if… if we just lay here for a while?” Her voice was barely a whisper. “We don’t have to touch or anything, I just… I don’t think I can go back to camp feeling like this.”

Astarion nodded, looking like he was on the verge of breaking himself. She gave him a shaky smile as he moved closer. They lay down side by side, their shoulders barely touching as they stared up at the stars. As the night stretched on, they gradually gravitated toward one another until Alluna was wrapped in his arms.

For the first time in a long while, both of them felt a small measure of safety. Of peace. Tonight, they weren’t fighters, or lovers, or survivors. They were just two broken pieces of a puzzle that somehow fit together—not perfectly, but enough to pass as whole.

They stayed that way until the sun peeked through the trees, bringing the forest to life. Birds chirped, squirrels chittered, and unseen creatures scurried about their morning. Eventually, they pulled apart, slipping back into their clothes. They smiled at each other—not the false, guarded smiles they had perfected, but genuine ones.

Whatever this was between them was uncharted territory—scary and uncertain. But it was also exciting, filled with the promise of hope.

A/N: Man, I'm so nervous about posting this. But this has been an idea I've had for a few days now. Also, this is my first one-shot I've ever written. So, lemme know what you thought! But, be gentle, I did my absolute best to be careful with how I describe things. I wanted to go more into the emotional aspect of this story rather than the trauma. Anyway, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed reading it.