#i couldn’t even come up with a good comparison for this post because i don’t know where the line is

[cl6teen]

p-power ❀ op81

in which a tense breakup with a well known driver sparks a new beginning with an up and coming rookie

contains: social media!au, exbf!daniel, multiple time skips, heavily inspired by the lyrics ‘the pictures i seen i’m like “damn he got lucky”, take it from him and i leave him with nothin’.

note: this has been in my drafts for ages so i might has well post it anyways

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f1wagupdates f1 wag y/n l/n and mclaren f1 driver daniel ricciardo caught in a hearted argument while vacationing in new zealand for the short beak in light of a newly surfaced cheating scandal between daniel and a model during a monaco gp after party

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danielrjpg omg, so the cheating rumours were true??? i feel so bad for y/n, she was the best wag on the paddock in my opinion

iheartmclaren during the monaco gp?? she couldn’t make it to that one right?

papayaluv yeah, but she was still posting him on her story that whole weekend :(

ynstyle genuinely she’s too good for him anyways

user now that this has been brought to life can we talk about the weird ass age gap between the two??

dr3ily i love daniel but he’s 33 and she’s 22?? and they started dating when she was 20? that’s kind of icky

l.l.l.lando to be honest, i don’t think it’s true? like he doesn’t seem like the type to cheat! couples fight all the time

user yeah, monaco gp is notorious for exposing and cheating scandals that usually aren’t true, yall will believe anything

4everstappen then why did she already delete their photos together?? like all trace of daniel gone

givemedr3 but daniel still has all of their photos up, and he still follows her ?

madebymax it’s because he’s delusional LMAO, and I would be too if i fumbled someone like y/n??

user his karma will definitely come back to him, one way or another

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yourinstagram boy bye.

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landonorris let me come visit you please

yourinstagram you know you’re always welcome down under lan <3

user lando and y/n’s friendship still holding up is so cute to me

bsfsinstagram you’re too bad for anyone in this world

bsfsinstagram whoever gets you is so lucky

yourinstagram i love you more than anything babe

drxyn waitt so they’re actually broken up 😭

luvyn tbh the post breakup glow is eating, i was crying for a month straight after mine

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mclarenbby oh my god daniel in the likes is so embarrassing like please stop your delusion

newuser please go back to daniel y/n i loved you two together!

yourinstagram lol no thanks

k1ll4lando daniel get off your burner account LMAOO

iluvf1 y/n continuing to post like nothing ever happened and being all normal in comparison to daniel’s social media literally going black out like he’s grieving is so funny?? like the disabled comments are really the cherry on top

user i just know he has his pr team working overtime

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f1 some surprising news from mclaren this silly season, wouldn’t you agree?

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user honestly thank god, i don’t think mclaren was daniels team, but it’s sad to see he might be out of a seat now

user the karma from cheating is literally so real

user and he wasn’t performing well at all because of it

user YN LIKED IT BYEEE

user love that for her though

mclaren excited to see our rookie in action!

early february, 2023.

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lando.jpg friendly outings before the new season (ft. y/n’s photography skills)

tagged yourinstagram & oscarpiastri

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yourinstagram thank you for the photo credits on the last one lando

oscarpiastri very nice photos lando

lando.jpg always so serious oscah

papayaluv yn still hanging out with mclaren is so nice to see, she has so much chemistry with the team even without daniel

op81ln4 seeing yn get becoming friends with oscar is so funny like omg he took your ex’s seat in f1

mcl4ren honestly i think that yn is milking this whole daniel situation to still keep the attention on her, how is she still attending mclaren events?

yourinstagram please stop making assumptions about me, thanks ❤️

user do you forget that she’s been friends with lando?

user can’t lie, lando posting yn at mclaren knowing daniel follows this page is wickedddd but funny

oscar

hey, it’s oscar from earlier :)

you

hi oscar! i had so much fun meeting you tonight

did you grab my number from lando?

oscar

yeah..i hope that’s alright?

i was just glad to see a fellow australian and lando suggested i have it

you

i really don’t mind it, i’m happy to have a new friend that i have smth in common with

i was surprised when your mclaren signing was announced, but i’m sure your rookie season will be amazing

oscar

thanks, it really does mean a lot

i wasn’t really expecting the mclaren offer in the first place but i was open, and they’d just let go of daniel cause of his performance

wait sorry i didn’t mean to bring him up

you

please don’t apologize, i couldn’t care less about him anymore

i see what happened in the second half of last years season as karma, im glad it’s you who’s in the seat now :)

oscar

yeah, but if you ask me what he did was an asshole move

you didn’t deserve that at all, i think he lost something good

you

it’s been so long now that it’s nothing important to me, but…did you want to meet up for lunch or dinner tomorrow? my flight back home leaves after that

oscar

yeah, i’d like that

and i’ll hope to see you again in australia as well?

you

you can count on it ❤️

april, melbourne australia.

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yourinstagram reunited down below 🧡

tagged landonorris and oscarpiastri

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ynluv it felt so nice seeing you with mclaren today !!

mclaren we second that!

yourinstagram it’s just a one time thing, i never miss a home race! but i was happy to be there!!

landonorris who’s that cool guy in the sunglasses?

yourinstagram a toad that drives for mclaren you do NOT want to talk to him

oscarpiastri missed hanging out

yourinstagram come back home more often then duh

landonorris or you can just visit us instead

you

you did so well in the race today oz

ozz

P8 isn’t the best though, could have been better

lando was good

you

he was, but we’re not talking about lando

P8 on your third race as a rookie is amazing

take the compliment oscar 🙄

ozz

thank you for the compliment miss

you

ugh shut up

ozz

im glad you were here this race weekend, i really did miss seeing you

you

it’s not like you haven’t been texting and calling me for two months straight 😭

ozz

but that’s different

you

mhm

when do you have to fly out to baku?

ozz

i leave in the middle of the night on wednesday

you must want me to take you out on a date before i go?

you

don’t be smug oscar pisstree

facetime dates are nice but it would be nice to go on a real one again. we don’t always have to hang out with lando

ozz

i know y/n, im only teasing you

there’s no way i would be here and not think to plan one, you know me better than that

but pisstree is a little painful

you

i know i know, sorry

ozz

so get ready and i’ll come pick you up once i’m done with these team debriefs

oscarpiastri updated their story (15 mins ago)

you

girl.

omg

pls whatever you’re doing stop it

TEXT ME BACK PLEASE 😭

bestie 🧸

oh my god

hi

i’m here

are you dying ? kidnapped?

i thought you were on your date with oscar

please respond???

how are you not responding after just texting??

istg i hate you

you

i was on my date with oscar

he just dropped me off

and

bestie 🧸

and??

you

i am a girlfriend !!!!

😖😖😖

bestie 🧸

OH MY GOD???

OSCARYN NATION UPPP

he’s so good for you yn

IM SO HAPPY

you

ME TOO

however. there is one problem

he asked me to spend the summer break travelling with him

bestie 🧸

what did you say?

yes? right?

you

i didn’t say anything actually…

he said he’d let me think about it

bestie 🧸

okay so tell him your done thinking about it

and say yes!

august; summer break.

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, bsfsinstagram and 89,245 others

yourinstagram all types of summa lovin

landonorris you got him to wear pink ????

yourinstagram doesn’t he look yummy in it

user WHO’S HIM????

bsfsinstagram oh not you posting himmm

yourinstagram i had to let them know i’m spoken for babe

oscarpiastri what psychopath straightens their hair like that

yourinstagram the hot kind

landonorris yeah right

dannybae is that daniel in the last photo?

yourinstagram no

user was posting this after daniel said he missed you on that podcast intentional????

user that’s so embarrassing for him but at least now he’s gained some self respect and unfollowed her 😭😭

luvyn i’m so happy she’s happy, literally living her best life

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oscarpiastri summer

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user oscar when was this this ?????

oscarpiastri i just said this summer🧍‍♂️

landonorris 💀

yourinstagram oscar in his soft launch era??

landonorris you were the one who taught him that

oscarpiastri is that what it’s called

user not oscar getting a girlfriend over the break

oscarspastries i sort of suspected this after that story he posted after the australia gp

user omg so she’s probably from australia

op4prez the second picture kinda looks like yn

user no it doesn’t ur jumping to conclusions 😭

user she’s only friends with the mclaren boys she has her own man

user oscar literally drops off the face of the earth for the entire break and then comes back to post this??

user im severely unwell

user oscar’s already falling into the girlfriend effect of looking exponentially finer and im here for it

october; qatar.

yourinstagram updated their story (2 hours ago)

you

congratulations on winning the sprint race babe <3 i knew you could do it

baby 💕

where are you?

i want to come see you

you

i’m in the garage with the team

are you coming with lando

baby 💕

no

you

you shouldn’t come without him

you know that people would talk and it’ll be annoying to deal with

baby 💕

i just got the first win of the season for the team

quite frankly i couldn’t give a shit what they said, i want to celebrate with my girl

you

oscar i want to celebrate with you too, but it might be best to wait

oscar are you there?

oscar ?

read 2 mins ago

yourinstagram updated their story (10 mins ago)

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oscarpiastri thanks qatar

comments on this post are limited

mclaren 🧡

landonorris it’s about time you made it public

oscarpiastri i never hid it though

landonorris didn’t you?

yourinstagram you’re lucky i love you enough to let you hard launch

oscarpiastri just can’t keep you a secret

[cherrieflavouredheadcanons]

Hi! 😊 Your rules post was very useful before I send my ask through, thank you for that. If you ever feel inspired for it, may I ask for your thoughts on Wriothesley? It's alright if nothing comes to mind, thank you for taking the time! <333 Have a good day/night!

I am glad you found my rules post helpful! This was written way before his release in 4.1 so things may be OOC now.

Since you didn’t specify what kind of thoughts you wanted I made this into cuddling headcanons, hope that's alright! (I wanted to make these nsfw and not fluff cause y’know…that one handcuff idle but I didn’t know if you wanted that so I went with fluff)

CW: None GN Reader

Wriothesley cuddling headcanons

Due to his occupation his work days are really stressful, and often he is only able to come home very late at night. He told you multiple times that you don’t need to wait up for him and that you should sleep early, but you refuse. You always greet him at the door when he comes home, even if it is 12 at night. 

While he does feel guilty that you stay up late just so you can greet him, he has to admit it makes him feel extra loved. Coming home to be greeted by you as soon as he opens the door helps him melt all the stress of the day off. Though be prepared to be carried to bed by him, he refuses to let you walk up the stairs late at night, especially if you seem really tired. (As a chubby person I will die on the hill that this man can carry anyone regardless of weight) 

Once he lies down in bed with you, he will pull you on top of him, letting you rest your head on his tiddies, i mean his chest. You swear his heartbeat always picks up a bit when you do it, but he always tells you you must be imagining things. 

Wriothesley keeps his arms around you when you two sleep, you may change sleeping positions but he will keep a hold on you in some way. You genuinely don’t know how he does it, especially during nights where you have restless sleep and move a lot. You once asked him about it, and he couldn’t give you an answer simply because he didn’t even realise that he does it.

While he has to wake up early on days he has to work, on his off days he sleeps in for as long as he wants and needs, which will most likely be longer than you sleep. If you try to leave his arms to go to the bathroom or make breakfast he will tighten his grip and grumble something in a half asleep state that you can’t understand. Guess you are trapped until he is ready to let go or you are somehow able to convince him to loosen his arms around you.

When you do your chores around the house, expect Wriothesley to suddenly come up behind you and wrap his arms around you. He rests his head on your shoulder or your head depending on your height in comparison to his. The closeness and intimacy of it is his favourite part of it.

If he sits on the couch while you are walking around the house and walk by him, he will grab your wrist and pull you into his lap. He craves as much physical touch as possible on his off days so whenever he can he will cuddle you. He loves it when you relax on his lap and cuddle into him, it makes him feel loved and cared for.

Play with his hair while you sit on his lap and he will be in heaven. You can feel him lean his head into your touch. Due to how much he loves having his hair played with he makes sure that it is always as soft and clean as possible, just so you will continue playing with it.

[lxinesux]

i’m holding my breath for you

Characters: Tasm!Peter Parker

Relationships: Peter Parker/Reader

Summary: Reader regrets her time with Peter and attempts to push him away to get her friendship back. Peter does not take it well. Smut ensues.

Warnings: Blood, Fingering,Loss of Virginity, Floor + Counter Sex, Creampie, mildly dark!Peter, Possessive Sex

A/N: There’s a read more because this gets smuttyish pretty early. love creepy peter, hes just a liddle freak 😭. this is the unexpected second part of a story i posted in june-ish. read the first part here!

It had happened, it was real.

He got to touch the untouchable-make you cry out and cum and squirm. He did that. He had been the first to do that.

He’d wanted to fuck you-either with his fingers or his cock-but you were way too spent. He teased you relentlessly in the shower-chasing water droplets that ran over your body with his mouth, touching you all over, kissing you roughly against the shower wall.

You were irresistible, adorable, as you shied away from him, trying to keep his hands above your waist.

“I don’t think…I can’t…”

You could. You could come again. Over and over and over until you couldn’t stand. But he didn’t want to push you. That had been your first orgasm with another person. Stamina could be worked on later.

You were in your head, too. He could tell. You were never the most talkative but there was something going on between your ears he desperately wanted to know about.

Did you regret it? What happened?

Fuck. Did you not trust him anymore?

Was there a way for him to regain that trust?

-

He corners you in the kitchen, the smallest room in the entire apartment. It was very easy to do, given how small you were in comparison to him.

“We have to talk.”

“About what?” You turn away from him, trying to organize the groceries you bought on your measly paycheck. There wasn’t much, and he could tell you were avoiding him. You could only pick up and put down the same clementine before it became personal.

“About…that.”

“No, we don’t.”

His heart breaks a little.

He thought he’d made his case very clear and apparent.

He was in love with you. Had been for a very long time.

“I haven’t felt the way I do about you since…”

The silence lingers heavily in the kitchen. Your spine is ramrod straight, shoulders tensed. And you’re not looking at him.

Looking like a perfect soldier. Looking like you weren’t human, but a perfect robotic clone. The portrait of frigidity.

His stomach twists. Okay. Alright.

“Forget I said anything. We can just…we can go back to where we were before.”

“Can we?”

The knife between his ribs twists. Wonderful. Great.

“I don’t see why not. We can just..forget this happened.”

“Peter…”

He brushes past you, “Gotta head out.”

“Peter, wait-”

“‘Ts fine. There’s nothing left to say, fresh restart. Factory settings. Just…stop.”

And you do stop. You watch helplessly as he crawls out of the window and into the frigid night air.

-

Peter was avoiding you entirely.

You attempt to wait up for him, now that he’d made a habit of going on patrol without you. But more than once, you would fall asleep.

You found yourself missing him. The smell of his skin, his hair tickling your nose, the feeling of his arms around you while you slept.

The few times you saw each other in the apartment, he was curt if he made conversation at all. Not even a good morning or good night, just ‘hey’ and ‘bye.’

You’d rather be in the basement at Oscorp getting your brain scrambled than deal with this pain.

-

You had gone on your own patrol and had gotten back way past mid morning in an attempt not to run into Peter. You’d changed into your civies and walked through the front door-

There’s a stranger in your apartment.

She must have not seen you or if she’d seen you, she didn’t care. The entire apartment smells like breakfast-smoky and sweet alongside the bitter sting of coffee.

And she’s wearing Peter’s favorite t-shirt.

It’s fucking Lucy. Lucy from fucking accounting. She couldn’t figure out how to use the copy machine. The goddamn copy machine!

And she was in your shared apartment.

She had slept here, had slept in Peter’s bed, your bed.

She fucked your Peter.

The kitchen isn’t that large, the aisle blocking off the living room is short enough that the two of you make eye contact as soon as she turns her head.

“Lucy, I told you to-” Peter’s voice comes from behind you.

“Get the fuck out of our house.”

How dare he. How fucking dare he. Fucking sleep with some random girl beause you wanted space? You wanted his friendship back and he fucks LUCY?

Her lips are parting, like she wants to say something. Her hand is on her hips, like you’re just some girl in competition. Like you didn’t know how to break her neck in a millisecond, like you didn’t have the training to ruin that pretty face.

In an instant, she was an enemy and your programming slams into overdrive. You’re up and over the counter in a millisecond, the t-shirt bunched into your first.

Superhuman strength is a blessing and a curse. You only mean to maybe shove her lightly.

What you do instead is leave a Lucy sized hole in the cheap door to your apartment. She lands at the end of the hall. Every door on the floor is flung open, revealing shock and amused faces alike-all of them turned to you.

-

“You’re so lucky we weren’t evicted,” He sighed, “And that Lucy was only a little bruised.”

A little bruised was an understatement. Lucy has a contusion in her shoulder that’ll take weeks to heal.

You tried not to look too pleased at the news as you helped Peter install the new door.

“She’s lucky she was only bruised,” You breathe through your nose.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Why did you even bring her here? Couldn’t you guys shack up at her place or something?”

“I didn’t think you’d be back before morning.” He actually has the grace to look guilty, maybe a little sad.

“Whatever.”

More silence.

You chew diligently on your bottom lip until he speaks.

“I’m sorry. It’s been weird these past few weeks. I think…I think it’d be best if I moved out?”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on, you’re actually comfortable like this? We nearly fuck, we kiss. You mauled my one-night stand! You push me away, you try to reel me back in. Forgive me for getting mixed signals!” His hands move into his hair, running his fingers through it, “I can’t do this anymore, I really can’t! Seeing you, it’s like…it’s fucking torture. I can’t do it.”

“You don’t talk to me for weeks and this is what you have to say!? You think this is easy for me?! God, Peter! I don’t know how to feel about you! I’m a fucking lab experiment gone rogue! I’m barely a person! What part of that screams girlfriend material to you!”

“I’ll let the landlord know I’m getting off the lease. I’ll be out at the end of the month.”

“So that’s it?”

“I can call Stark back, so you aren’t by yourself. I know you hate that. I don’t want you to have to be alone. We just…can’t be alone together. Not like this. Not until I’m over this…”

“Fuck you, Peter Parker.”

The new door slams, the hinges cracking.

-

You’re awake for hours, waiting for him to come home. You smell him before you see him.

Blood. You smell blood, thick and salty, and wrong on Peter.

His suit has been shredded along his abdomen, the blood making the spandex cling to the open wounds.

He nearly falls through the window and you catch him before he hits the floor. Guilt is swift and immediate.

Wordlessly, you help him to the bathroom. He doesn’t fuss, doesn’t put up a fight.

You peel off his suit gently, careful of the-are those claw marks in his chest? Before you can grab the first aid, his fingers are loosely wrapped around your wrist. He pulls you towards him. Pressing you against him, his sweaty bloody body touching your skin. He lets out a tense breath.

“Peter-”

“Just let me hold you. Just for a little bit.”

You can’t say no to him. You let him run his fingers through your hair, rub your back. Gently, you lay your head on his shoulder, trying to be careful of his wounds but selfishly trying to soak up all the emotion and touch you haven’t felt in weeks.

“I’m sorry,” He breathes out after a long stretch of silence.

“I..I’m sorry, too.”

“I kept trying to push you.”

“I was trying to protect you from me.”

He takes your face in his hands. His blood feels tacky on your cheeks. He brings your foreheads together, his breath warm against your lips. You remember what it was like to kiss him. How he’d begged for it, begged for something so simple as that.

The thought makes your body pulse in ways you don’t want to think about. Not right now. His thumb rubs against your cheek, leaving your flesh tingling in its wake.

“I don’t need you to protect me. Let alone protect me from something I want.”

“I told you before, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

He chuckles weakly before letting you go. You grab the first aid kit out of the medicine cabinet but still feel his eyes tracing along your back. When you turn, he doesn’t shy away from his staring, a goofy smile still plastered on his face.

“I wanna kiss you again.”

“Peter, can you focus?”

“So mean to me,” He pouts when you come near him, “I’m injured and you won’t kiss me better?”

“You’ve lost a lot of blood. Healing factor is making you loopy. Sit up straight, I’m going to disinfect your wounds.”

“Yes ma’am,” In the same scratchy voice that he had when he-

Ugh. You are not thinking about that right now. Even if he’s being too handsy, running his hands over your hips, up your sides. Trying to pull you into his lap.

“I can smell it, ya know? Super senses.”

You want to dose him with the rubbing alcohol bottle just to get him to stop talking. His blood was clotting nicely and you’ve since surmised that most if the blood on him wasn’t him as you feared.

“Smell what?” You dab him gently instead. A tight, clean gauze dressing and the deep marks should go away in a few days. You apply the clean cotton and begin to wrap him up, seconds away from applying skin safe tape.

“When your cunt’s wet, when I turn you on. Like now. Can smell it, always have. That’s how I know you want this too, you’re just scared.”

Your noses touch when you look at him earnestly, “I am scared.”

“I’m scared, too,” His fingers move through your hair, his eyes scan your face, “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t wanna lose your trust.”

It feels good. The silence surrounding you doesn’t feel as oppressive knowing that you’re both in it together. Your eyes close without your permission, lounging once again the comfort of just having Peter touch you again.

“I trust you, Peter.”

You feel his face move further toward you, his lips inches away from yours.

“Say that again,” he whispers breathlessly, “Please, say that again.”

“I trust you.”

-

It was the closest thing to confirmation he was ever going to get, but he’d take it.

His lips press against yours, a soft peck. Another and another until he can feel your body relax. He’s been so starved of you, greed fills him when your lips part. He lifts you up, possessive hands firm on your ass.

God, you were soft. So soft and warm. He wants to devour you, piece by piece.

He puts you on the bathroom counter, your legs hike up over his hips. Your pussy is pressed against the tent in his pants through your thin sleep shorts.

He won’t pull away. His lips leave yours only briefly to catch his breath. Your shaky hands move through his hair and he shutters.

“Missed you so bad,” He whispers, “Missed you so fucking bad.”

His hands move up your shirt, his warm hands traveling up to your bra and then running back down to your thighs.

You whimper, your flesh breaking out in goosebumps. His lips trail pecks from your mouth, across your cheek, and down your neck. The soft noises you make control him. You’ve never experienced pleasure like this and he wanted to be the only one to give it to you.

The only person you’ll ever have. The idea of anyone else seeing you melt like this makes him suck the sensitive skin of your neck between his teeth.

“Peter-“ Slightly desperate. Begging almost.

He pets your hair, “Shh, baby. I’m right here. Do you feel me?”

He pulls your hips tighter to him. Your fingers dig into his shoulders. When you hiss between your teeth, he can feel himself leak precum.

“Y…yeah…” You move minutely against him, “Yeah, feel you. Feels good…”

He kisses you again, just to taste the words. He pulls away just to get your shirt off. New skin for him to put his mouth on. He unhooks your bra easily, how starved he was for your flesh. He mouths along your collarbones, leaving bruises with his mouth that would linger on your skin.

He kisses down your chest. Your nipples are hard and pink and distracting.

“Peter, Peter, I-“

His tongue swirls around a nub, the other is tortured by his fingers. He pulls it away from your flesh. You try to move your chest further into his face. Christ, you’re so fucking adorable. You gasp and writhe.

Fuck, you’re getting so wet too. He can feel it against him, dampening the front of your panties and his Spidey suit.

His cock aches. He needed to be inside you, couldn’t take getting pushed away again. He was going insane. He was going to jump out of his skin if he had to wait any longer.

“Get down.”

“Wha?” Your voice is thick and heavy. Your eyes are glazed over. It’s making it so much worse.

“Get down, lean over the counter.”

For the first time in weeks, you do as you're told. Your panties are around your ankles before you realize it. He spreads your ankles apart.

Your pussy is pink and glistening. His mouth waters while he admires it. You whine.

“Nah baby, don’t be embarrassed. Most perfect thing I have ever seen…” He kisses along your shoulders, down your back.

His hand moves between your thighs, “You’ve never had anything inside this sweet pussy, have you?”

Your cheeks are flushed, “No…”

He smiles, reaching around your front and pressing against your clit.

“Oh my god-“

“Breathe, baby,” He presses the tip of one finger against your opening, “Gonna open you up so I don’t hurt you. It’ll feel good, I promise. Just breathe.”

One finger slides in instantly. In and out, hearing the sound of your soaked cunt. He can see your legs lock at first as you feel the awkward pressure. You relax again when you get accustomed to one finger. Another slides alongside and you keen as the press against that spot inside you.

“Too much…” You whimper.

“Pretty girl, I know you can take more,” His fingers speed up slightly as you leak against him, “Fuck, you’re so tight. Been dreaming about you cumming around my cock…”

Your eyes flutter closed, your mouth opens just slightly. Your hips move back against his fingers. You might be trying to say something, but the only thing Peter can hear is-

“Ah, ah, fuck, please…”

Your face in the mirror is gonna make him lose it. He gently tilts your head back.

“Look at yourself,” He whispers in your ear, eyes locking with yours in the reflection, “Look at what I’m doing to you…”

Another finger, his free hand returns home to your clit. You don’t avert your eyes, even though you really want to. Watching your own skin flush, your pupils unfocuses, your jaw slack.

“‘m so close…so close…”

Embarrassing for you, arousing for him.

He pulls his hands away from you. You whine, your chest rising and falling rapidly. “No!”

You feel the tip of him press against your hole. Protests die in your throat. He’s big. So big, you don’t know if he’ll fit. He might tear you apart. You feel so empty though, open and ready. If he doesn’t do something, your heart is gonna explode in your chest.

You trust him.

He’s trying so hard to be patient. You’re a fucking velvet vice around the head of his cock and he wants to feel you all around him. He pushes in farther, letting out a strained moan.

Your breathing picks up, your eyes squeeze shut. He knows before you say. He can feel your walls pulse, your thighs quivering-

“Cumming, Peter, fuck I’m gonna-“

He nearly finishes right there and then. Your cunt tightens impossibly around him, trying to milk him for all his worth. Your body crumples, nearly hitting the floor. He holds you while you shutter through it, kissing along your temple.

He guides you gently to the floor, laying you on your back before boxing you in with his own. He guides your thighs over his hips.

He slides in much easier after your first orgasm. By the time he’s fully seated inside you, you already accept your fate. He takes a minute to look where you're conjoined, your puffy pussy taking all of him.

He pulls out just enough before slamming back in, watching your face. Your groan, your head lulling back. He does it again, and again. Shallow, slow thrusts to get you used to the weight of him. He’s seeing stars behind his eyes, watching your face contort while he overstimulates you on purpose.

“You’ve got more in you,” He pants out, “I know you’ve got more in you.”

Those swallow thrusts change into deeper, faster ones. Hitting that spot inside you over and over. Your skin glistens with a light sheen of sweat, his blood is drying on your body. The sight of it is making him insane. Peter leans over and starts sucking bruises into the soft flesh of your neck. His teeth trace your jugular.

“One more,” He breathes in your ear, “Gimme one more…”

Your abs are twitching underneath him, whimpering and whining and clinging to him. You say his name over and over, like it’s the only word that exists in your brain.

His thrusts get more sloppy, feeling your own second impending orgasm build pushes him toward the edge.

“Gonna cum inside you…” Not a question, a statement.

No going back.

You only cry out, seeking out his mouth to drown out the embarrassing noises you’re making. He licks into your mouth just as you tighten and gush around him again.

With one final thrust, he cums deep inside you. He bites down hard on your lower lip.

Now, he’s got your blood on him. No matter how small the amount.

“I love you,” He whispers against your skin, “I love you…”

You nod, struggling to catch your breath. You lean your head against him.

“If you love me, really, you’ll help me clean up.”

He laughs. It’s the prettiest sound you’ve heard in weeks.

“Fine,” He presses a noisey kiss to the crown of your head, “Shower?”

“A shower shower,” You say, “No funny business.”

“I promise nothing.”

“Christ, Peter, at least wait until I can stand…”

It’s a start.

[sexyandhedonistic]

Faith (and feeling) is the secret: A small success story and what you can learn from it.

Hello, my loves. It’s been a while since I’ve made any sort of post on this blog. Today I’m going to be bringing you one of my many success stories. As someone who’s very private, I’m always skeptical about talking about any of them as they tend to be quite personal and oftentimes require me to disclose details to provide context. Even in this one, I’ll be keeping it occasionally vague and change a few insignificant details to preserve that privacy. Nevertheless, I feel good about sharing this one because I remember drawing so many comparisons and turning to a lot of what Neville himself said in his lectures and I applied what I’ve learned from beginning to end. Anyway, let’s get to the story:

This happened some time ago, it doesn’t really matter when but I had found out that a favorite artist of mine was having a concert after tickets had started going on sale. The concert was in one of my favorite cities which was a bit of distance from me so I was open to going, but not particularly compelled to. When I first heard about it, I looked up how much of the seating was occupied just to have an idea of how popular this concert was. 

I couldn’t even see the seating chart because it would halt me with a “there are no seats available at this time”. Knowing the law, if I really did want to go, what I had just read meant nothing in the slightest, so I wasn’t discouraged. I continued to check from time to time to see if anything had changed and I would bump into the same exact notice. But again, I was still open to going and what I had read held no value and my reaction was no different than if I had seen a stadium full of blue sections. It didn’t matter one bit. This went on for two months.

During that time, I found out that some of my friends were going, so now I was more interested in going as well. I hadn’t particularly assumed I would go throughout, I was always thinking of the idea rather than from it. So, although for the most part I had no solid desire to actually be there up until now, I still knew that if I wanted to, I could be. Not once through this entire time did I feel stressed nor desperate. I always had faith.

It was the month of the event and I still didn’t have seats, and then they announced a giveaway which I entered. The span to apply was approximately two weeks and they would announce a winner a week before the event. That very morning, I was still hopeful about winning. I felt good, I kept thinking about what it would be like to be in one of my favorite cities hanging out with my friends and seeing one of our favorite artists. And then I decided to induce the state akin to sleep to really place myself into that state of consciousness.

I would like to mention something very briefly here that I’m not sure whether or not I have previously brought up, but whenever I imagine during the state akin to sleep, I see it as death. What I mean by that is that I am conscious of being something I don’t want to be before I induce the SATS, and the goal should be to come out of that imaginal act conscious of being something else. That’s how you should always approach the state akin to sleep. Die to the old state and identify yourself with the new one. 

 Having already been in Los Angeles on numerous occasions, I drew the feeling from that. I recalled what the weather was like at that time of year, I remembered all of the landmarks I would pass by, I thought about how happy I would be to see my friends, how excited I would feel to see one of my favorite artists perform, and I mentally placed myself in that city. I was no longer sitting in bed within four walls miles and miles away. I was in Los Angeles. I was surrounded by the hot weather telling my friends how happy I was to see them and I heard them say it back to me. I saw the lights and the streets, I felt the butterflies of making my way to the venue and finding my seat. I took all of those feelings and really let myself sit and become fully drenched in them until I felt happy to be there. (And I remembered to think from the end and not of the end. Remember that this is key. If I simply thought about being there, it would create no shift in consciousness.) I kept focusing on that feeling, I didn’t have a particular scene in mind, I was simply focusing on the senses and the emotions of being there. I felt happy that I was able to make it, I was thinking about how glad I felt for not taking no for an answer and the memory of the present moment of me inducing the SATS was something I had done last week.

I wasn’t keeping track of the time I was in that state, but it was roughly an hour. I hadn’t slept and the sun was starting to rise when I pulled myself out. I felt satisfied with my prayer and I reminded myself that if for whatever reason I felt uncertain I could simply do the same, so I felt good. I wasn’t anxious about whether or not I had done enough because I knew praying and accepting that it was happening was all I had to do and soon enough I’d be making my way to LA. 

Then I went to sleep. The winners were to be announced in a few hours and shut my eyes assuming I would wake up to the good news. However, I didn’t win the giveaway, but I was a runner up and I was given access to purchase tickets at a heavily discounted price, which in itself was a good start to my trip to LA. I didn’t have a particular seat in mind when I saw myself there, but I did want to be close and I was (4th row from the stage). A seat that would’ve cost me about $230 went down to $60, so I snagged it. If you’re familiar with the You Are In Barbados story, this was my “Good news, Mr. Goddard” moment. It was happening.

I had my trip, I booked my flights, I prepared everything and within a week I was on my way to see so many of my favorite people in one city. I was ecstatic the entire time leading up to it and I enjoyed myself to death. The concert was on a weekend and I was back home by the time the week started. It was Tuesday and I was checking my inbox and for some reason I felt like going through my spam folder. And I came across an email that stood out to me.

It was an email from the event telling me that one of the winners hadn’t responded so I was next in line and I had won two tickets plus the opportunity to meet them. Now, I admit that I did think the giveaway was going to be the how in my story. When I induced the state akin to sleep, I didn’t visualize myself winning, I visualized myself being in LA because that was the actual end. What I most wanted was to attend the concert so that was the end I was living in. Yet, that email served as a reminder that if I really did want to meet them, I very much could have. That would’ve been the part where Abdullah would’ve told me, “Who said you are only attending? You are in Los Angeles and you met them.” If I had that desire in my heart, I would’ve remembered to remain faithful to that even after the giveaway had ended. Remember that it always comes down to persistence and brazen impudence when it comes to whatever it is that you really want. Know what you want and reject anything that isn’t it. Nothing more, nothing less.

I hope you guys enjoyed this little success story of mine and you can learn a thing or two from it. I know I’m always here providing advice to the best of my ability and this particular success story attests to the fact that I practice what I preach to you all. I’ve also told you guys before that when you all start having successes of your own, your faith in the law will only grow more and more. I speak from experience! 

So my advice to you from this story, as I always have advised:

Know what you want. Have a clear idea of your desire.

Facts aren’t important. The 3D isn’t important. 

Go straight to the end. You don’t need to become conscious of things in steps. (This is why I focused on being in LA and not on winning the giveaway.)

Have faith. Always walk by faith and not by sight.

The takeaway is to not worry about the how in the slightest, only concern yourself with what the end of your wish fulfilled looks like. It is yours if you truly want it. Focus on the end only, not anything in between. If you know circumstances don’t matter and you are limitless, that you don't need to worry about the how, the when, the why or the if, the only relevant question you should be asking yourself is the following:

Do you want it?

[ghostie-dude]

A Royal Quarrel -

In which ; Princess Anya is on a mission. Prince Damian was forced to be here. They clearly do not get along. royal au!damianya! they are both aged up in this.

word count ; 1.6 k

notes; one of my first one shots. inspired by this post by @anishake! i hope i did this au justice </3 reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated!

As the maids add the last touches to her hair, braiding her pink locks, she glances at her father, standing to the side; his crown glistening in the sunlight filtering through the windows of the grand bedroom.

“Is it going to be common for you to need me to help you during your missions, papa? You usually never let me interfere,” She teases, grinning. His highness shakes his head, smiling back at his daughter.

“Don’t count on it, princess. You’re still much too young for this,” He walks forward, patting his daughter’s hair with affection. 

“Hah?!” She exclaimed, her expression souring within minutes. If any words could be used to describe the young princess, all the castle staff would agree; reckless, dramatic, lively. She sunk her head, making contact with her dresser, acting dejected beyond comparison. “Papa never fails to hurt my feelings.” 

The maids who are helping her get ready giggle, patting her hair as they had so many times throughout her life. They had, afterall, watched her grow up here; amongst these castle walls, causing trouble ever since she was born. 

“Come on, Princess Anya. We need to get ready for the prince, don’t we?” She says with a humorous tone. Anya sticks her tongue out at this. “As if! I’m just helping papa here. Nothing more, so don’t spread gossip!”

The king looks at his daughter’s antics affectionately, watching her bicker with her maids as if they were family. Momentarily, his anxiety regarding the evening settles; he breathes, calming down in the familiar presence of the young princess.

~ - ~

The prince stands in front of a mirror, the gloom in his face matching that of the darkened room; his hands outstretched, he watches his reflection with unmoving eyes as a servant fixes his suit, adding touches here and there. It was unnecessary; the prince was good looking enough to make anything work, everyone knew, and yet his father made sure hours were put into his son's appearance before any lowly event he forced him to attend in his place.

“Lord Damian, if you’d please move a bit to the right. . .” The servant asks in a meek tone, his head bowed.

Wordlessly, the prince grimaces, shifting a bit and sighing. He’d been here for ages already. He begins to resent his highness, his father, and the fact that the only reason he was being sent to this event was because the king couldn’t bother to attend. 

“Save face, make name,” He mutters to himself, his expression changing; he looks forward, just as the king enters the room, two guards flanking him. Everyone in the room bows as he approaches, stopping before his son. The prince lowers his head.

“Your highness,” The prince says, not daring to look up.

“Damian. I trust you understand your role in the evening?”

The king trains his sharp gaze on his son, and the prince doesn’t fail to pick up the malice that laces his tone.

“I do, your highness,”

“Don’t get too immersed in the evening. Do your job,” The king narrows his eyes, leaning towards his son’s lowered head. In his ears, he mutters softly. “They’re nothing but lowly rulers from a nameless kingdom. A peasant king from a peasant kingdom. I expect you to maintain an image.”

The king stands up straight, causing the tension in the room to reach a peak. Prince Damian shivers under his fathers gaze.

The castle staff watch as the king leaves the room.

The prince’s gaze never left the floor.

~ - ~

The evening is as boring as Princess Anya had expected it to be. She swirls her drink in her glass, her expression clearly displaying all her boredom; she never was good at hiding how she felt. Her highness, the queen, sits next to her daughter, giggling at her clear distaste. The Forger Monarchs were known for their tight bond, and it was clear how much the princess’ parents cared for her, even through these small actions. The king shakes his head at his daughter’s antics, as they sit at the front of the hall, each in their respective throne. He clears his throat, nudging his slouching daughter and mouthing at her to sit up straight, to which the princess pouts, causing the queen to smile and share a glance with her husband.

The room was lively, the event an obvious success, and it was finally time for the evening’s festivities. The king stands up, clearing his throat once again, louder in order to catch the attention of his guests. The king’s presence is overwhelming; immediately, the large hall quiets down, a light atmosphere around the evening; it is a comfortable event, one meant to celebrate.

“I thank all of you who graciously attended. We offer our utmost respect and gratitude to each and every one of you, standing in this hall before us today.”

Queen Yor and the princess stand beside the king, and all three curtsey in unison, sparking applause amongst the guests. 

“And now, without further ado; My dear wife and I-” He affectionately embraces the queen, who laughs. “- will start the evening’s dance off.”

The two face each other, hand in hand, and bow. Then, they make their way into the crowd, who move away to clear space for the pair; they begin the traditional dance, always sparked by the rulers of the kingdom.

“And now, we’d invite all guests to graciously join the king and queen,” One of the castle’s staff announces after a few minutes, clapping; the lights in the grand hall dim, allowing the moonlight from the floor to ceiling windows illuminate the hall, giving it a magical tint.

This is the signal the princess has been waiting for. She makes her way through the crowd, her eyes never leaving her target - Prince Damian, the second born of the Desmond Monarchs. She was, after all, on a mission. 

She reaches him, stopping a few feet away. His dark hair shines in the moonlight, she notices, his eyes trained on her parents as he gracefully handles his glass. Most of the guests have joined in the dance, yet he was alone, standing to the side.

She glances at her parents, who give her a masked glance back. It was all planned out, to the very second; the Forger Monarchs had this evening dotted to the T.

The clears her throat, leaning towards the prince with a friendly expression on her face.

“What’s a prince like you doing here all alone, Mr. Desmond?” She teases. “Care to dance?”

He glances at her. His first thought, immediately, is pride; ‘Fallen for me already, has she? Well, I can’t blame her, I am truly the most handsome prince to grace these halls.’

He is so easy to read that Anya has to move her head to hide the scoff that graces her features.

“Why, I guess I could spare a dance for a desperate princess like you,” He teases back, his face contorted into a smirk. “No shocker you have no partner for yourself, huh?”

At that moment, the princess forgets all about the plan. Her mind is blank. All she understood was that she had just been insulted by the prince, who was here all alone, that too.

She smiles sickeningly at the prince, turning around. She moves towards the gates to the garden connecting to the hall; she knows she can’t get upset at his behaviour, or she risks ruining the plan. 

Her parents notice her leaving, and look at the prince, who was gazing at her retreating back with a dumbstruck expression on his face.

‘Did she just . . . smile at me? Did she just smile and leave?’ His exasperation knows no bounds. Does she even know who he is? Does she know what a big deal it is that he agreed to dance with her?

Out of pure exasperation, he follows her swiftly, exiting the hall and entering the garden behind her.

“Do you think we should follow them?” The queen mutters, her face on her husband’s shoulder.

The king stays quiet, thinking over the situation. He evaluates quickly, reaching a conclusion within seconds. 

“She’ll be okay. She knows what to do.”

The prince calls out, causing the princess to stop in her tracks. She hadn’t expected him to follow her out.

“Do you even understand who I am?” He continues, reaching her. He stood inches behind her, facing her back. The princess thinks, trying to figure out what to do next.

“I’m talking to you! You should be grateful I even agreed to dance with you, a lowly princess like you should cower before the likes of me. You’re forgetting your place,” Once again, the princess pauses, her mind going blank.

“Do you not hear me?” He grabs her shoulder, turning her around to face him. “Answer m-”

Within the next 2 seconds, the princess twists his arm, throwing him over her shoulder and pinning him to the ground. His hands are pinned over his head, and her other hand holds his face up towards her’s, as her legs straddle his hip, holding him down. She leans in, her face centimetres away from his. He's too shocked to move.

“Some lowly princess I am, huh?” She scoffs, causing his eyes to widen and his cheeks to redden at the sheer closeness between them. “Don’t worry, Desmond,” she spits. “I know my place. Maybe I should remind you of yours.”

She stands up, brushing the grass and dirt off her gown and fixing her crown. 

“I don’t want to see your face near me ever again.” She sneers, forgetting her mission. She enters the hall, her scowl never leaving her face.

Meanwhile, the prince lays frozen in place, his face red and hot.

“Shit,” He mutters to the sky, clutching his chest as his heart races.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

So as you answered how you don’t understand how Mostro Lounge is still working is there any other thing or storyline in twisted wonderland you think which doesn’t make sense? Like logically or in any way?

[Referencing this post!]

There’s lots of things, but I tend to overlook them to sustain suspension of disbelief (or out of hoping it gets explained better in the manga/light novel adaptation or later in the story) 😂 To name a few (“few”):

Who brought Yuu back to Ramshackle after feral Grim attacked them?? Adeuce seem to think Yuu was sleeping as per usual when Yuu woke up, so it couldn’t have been either of them.

Crowley says Yuu will be able to help the boys get along in the prologue, but then after that we rarely get to see Yuu actually doing this so it feels like a shallow line to shoehorn them into the story. Even though the boys squabble, they are still the ones that push the story along (as both instigators and problems solvers) without Yuu’s presence or help in most instances.

Basically all the lenient consequences for the OB boys’ actions (something the light novel somewhat remedies, as it goes into more detail about how Riddle faces expulsion and faced social repercussions for his behavior).

The same thing about the easy sentences carries over to some events like Endless Halloween Night; how come no one is punished for the danger the students were put in, even if fabricated or done with good intent 🤡

Most of book 2’s plot. Just very poorly done overall.

Yuu’s friendship with Malleus. I get why Malleus would consider Yuu important to him, but I don’t understand why Yuu would reciprocate because in their eyes, they have barely hung out at all with him. Yuu spends much more time with Grim + Adeuce and has a stronger bond with them. By comparison, Malleus is just a quirky acquaintance. The friendship seems like something that’s artificially made not because Yuu actually thinks of Malleus as their bestie but because the players that project onto Yuu have a personal attachment to Malleus. (And there’s nothing wrong with doing that! It’s just that when the relationship depends on the player’s own attachment to strengthen it, then the relationship falls flat if the player themselves doesn’t attach to Malleus in the first place.)

… Why does Malleus need guards if he’a already very powerful on his own?? Is it a formality…? Is it because he’s the only heir to the throne…?

Some Groovy illustrations having no context or making little sense with the vignettes that pair with them.

What was the dirt Azul had on Crowley? Or was that a bluff to catch Jamil’s attention?

What deal did Leona make with Azul (that he sanded the contract for)? What did he offer as collateral??

How did Rollo find and breed crimson flowers when it was believed they were all destroyed??

Any non-human race’s anatomy and physiology (which is a topic I’ve discussed every so often in a number of other posts) 😭 As I science nerd, I must know how they work—

I’m sure there are lots of other things, but these were the most immediate ones that came to me. As you can see, I think a lot about TWST—

[andkisses]

♡ warmth, gold, and honey | jungwon ♡

prompt: You’re actually a really friendly and chill vampire and at night you float around outside of my bedroom window to talk with me about the universe and stuff

♡ jungwon x gn!reader | wc. 1.8k ♡ genres/tropes: vampire!jungwon, human!reader, college!au, some fluff, some confessions, a kiss ♡ mentions of/warnings: mentions of a cheating ex, i think that’s all? also one pet name usage ♡ a/n: meant to post this at halloween but forgot i had it lol a rewrite of something i had written a long time ago but never posted, enjoy <3 tfw u extend a drabble from 517 words to nearly four times that lol

♡ masterlist ♡

When you first met him, you were terrified. Who wouldn’t be? Everything you’d ever heard about his kind sent chills down your spine and made you want to curl up and hide and never leave. You didn’t even know what he really was then. He was just there, tall and intimidating as hell. You really shouldn’t have come to this party. You should be back at your place, studying for your next exam. A boring life was a safe, vampire-free life, yeah?

But after you met Yang Jungwon and learned his secret truth, your perspective on things changed quite drastically. It happened quite fast, actually, this change of heart. Vampires weren’t 100% scary anymore—though, don’t get it confused, Jungwon, as fair as he may be, could turn scary in an instant. They were merely beings who had memories of great history, and an incredible knack for storytelling.

On nights you couldn’t sleep—because of life, or a test, or that stupid boy who cheated on you—you’d call him and ask for a story. And every time, without question, he’d oblige, honeyed voice coming through the receiver. The stories Jungwon told were so fantastical, so imaginative, it was hard for you to believe they could have ever been true. But, then again, you were hearing them from a real life vampire, so who’s to say what’s real and what’s not?

Eventually, though, your restless nights start to concern him. You try brushing it off, say it was just a phase because that’s just how life is, or an important incoming exam, or because your stupid ex who cheated on you really, really hurt you. You stop calling, too, spending long moonless nights alone and in silence with nothing but the darkness to keep you company. You could try to remember the stories he told you, but your memory always dulls in comparison.

But if there’s anything you’ve learned after meeting Yang Jungwon, out of everything he’s told you or shown you, it’s that he’s good at reading people.

And he’s especially good at reading you.

Another restless night, paging through a chem textbook you’re too exhausted to even try to understand. The only light coming from your desk lamp, and whatever moonlight could filter down through the fire escape. Not that it was much escape, though, with the last bit of ladder broken and still not replaced. Maybe you should have splurged a little more for an off-campus apartment, or gone halfsies with someone else.

But you do enjoy your apartment, as small and as dingy as it is. It’s yours, even if you still feel like you have to clean extra hard because of him.

When you hear a tap on your window and see him floating outside, a happy smile on his face with a teasing expression to his eyes, you really aren’t as surprised as you expect yourself to be. As you should have been. You let him in, pushing the window up before Jungwon slips in like a lithe Peter Pan. He’s feet gently land on your floor, and while he’s still tall, there’s nothing intimidating about Jungwon now. You dare say he’s the exact opposite for you.

He surveys your room with a blank expression before another smile overtakes his features.

“No wonder you can’t sleep,” he says, a small tsk-tsk in his voice. “The front of the building from when I dropped you off is much nicer. Your room is boring—no stories at all.”

“That’s not true!” you reply, pointing to your shelf full of knickknacks and memories and photographs you’d taken over the years. Some places decidedly empty, a symbolic representation of your heart, but nonetheless–stuff!

“Not those stories, silly,” Jungwon chides. He reaches to take your hand, and it sends a chill straight to your heart, the spark it causes and the warmth you feel. Another thing you learned from knowing him–those stories about vampires being cold? Just a silly myth. Jungwon squeezes your hand again. “I mean stories like these.”

With a wave of his hand, a glittering scene appears in the empty space in front of you. An ocean slowly eats away at the shiny shore, everything bathed in the warm, vibrant colors of sunset. You can even hear the waves and smell the salty sea air, seagulls cawing in the distance. The golden glow of the image warms even the darkest corners of your room. You reach for the image, but your hand falls through.

“How did you—?” You look up at him, mouth slightly agape.

Jungwon laughs, a small one that lifts your heart, and uses his free hand to tap at his temple. “Magic,” he chimes with a wink, and now you’re both laughing.

By three in the morning, long after he’d shown up, you’re side by side on your bed, staring at the ceiling as Jungwon plants image after image. Each with their own story he whispers just for you. He even teaches you how to bring them back on your own, with your own brand of mundane magic.

“For whenever you need them,” he whispers, holding your hand close to his heart. “For whenever I can’t be near.”

You blink, and your throat catches at the idea of Jungwon not being here. You scan his face, the features you’ve made yourself very familiar with. You may not be able to recall Jungwon’s stories in color, but you’ve always been able to recall him in sparkling detail. You start to wonder about things, creating a timeline in your head as you gaze back up at the ceiling. Jungwon had told a story of star crossed lovers who actually ended up together. The glittery image of them sitting side by side, staring out into the ocean, curled into one another stares back at you.

You think about the night you met Jungwon, the night you’d your ex–then your boyfriend–making out and cheating on you with someone else in the corner of the kitchen. You’d gone in for more ice, and ended up shattering your reality as you knew. Then, you met a vampire, so maybe that night was destined to be odd.

You think about what’s happened since, the tentative friendship you find blossoming between you two. Jungwon attends your university–which you find stupid because why would you voluntarily submit yourself to such torture as organic chemistry–but Jungwon tells you it’s to see people, see how they’ve changed and how they’ve stayed the same since he’d turned.

“Besides,” Jungwon had said, tapping his pen against his temple when you’d gone to study together after class, “I already know just about everything. Makes test taking really easy.”

You think about how much you truly enjoy being in Jungwon’s company. How he sets you at ease, makes you laugh. The stories he tells, how he seems to have them only for you. You think about right now, his shoulder and knees pressed against your own. How he holds your hand against his heart. How he’s still watching you when you turn back to him, eyes soft and delicate.

As are his words when he asks, barely above a whisper, “What are you thinking about?”

You decide to be honest. “You.”

Jungwon blinks, eyes quickly going over your face, a small smile teasing the corner of his lips. His hold on your hand tightens just that much. “Why?”

“Because…” Your words fall short. Is this really where this conversation is going? You could overthink it to the moon and back, but you already know it would change your mind. There’s a reason you can feel the tips of your ears burning, a reason being so close to him makes your heart race. You stare into his eyes, so sweet and homey, and tell the truth. “I think I like you, Jungwon. A lot.”

He flashes you that brilliant smile, the one you know is just for you, the one that makes your heart lurch. “You like me?” he echoes through a smile. Then, he tilts his head, teasing. “Or my stories?”

You pull your hand free to whack him in the chest, earning you laughter. “I pour my heart out and this is the thanks I get?”

Jungwon’s hand, now free from holding yours, reaches across to cup your cheek. “Darling,” he says, and you feel your skin beneath his touch burn, “you did not pour your heart out. You told the truth, which is good. But pouring your heart out?” He shakes his head softly, turned towards you against the pillow.

Somehow, you’ve both gone from flat on your back to on your side, facing each other. You pout, even if your heart sings at how Jungwon is looking at you. “Then what does pouring your heart out look like, hm?”

Jungwon smiles, something sly and cunning, as if he’s waited a long time for this. “Well, I think it would sound something like this.” He pauses a moment before going on. “It’s how when I first saw you at the party, I thought you were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. Then I gathered you were already seeing someone, but then to see you cry? Because of what he did to you?”

Jungwon frowns at the memory. “Then we found each other at school, and we kept talking, and talking. And somewhere you found about me, but you didn’t care. And I told you stories every time you called because I needed an excuse to hear your voice or make you laugh. Because it was the best thing I could hear. Then, you stopped calling. And I didn’t expect it to hurt so much.”

“Why?” you ask without even trying. It slips out in a pause in Jungwon’s speech.

He smiles, using his thumb to softly rub back and forth on your cheek. “I didn’t expect it to hurt because I’ve done this before–shared stories with people,” he says. “To be honest, it took me a while to figure out what was wrong, because I hadn’t felt it. At least not in a long time. When I realized it’s because I like you a lot, I had to figure out something to do.”

You can’t help but stare. “You like me back?”

“I fear I may love you,” he says softly, and you feel a knot in your stomach. He moves closer, using his hand on your cheek to tilt your chin up towards him, his lips a breath away from yours. You try to remind yourself to breathe. Your hand reaches out to cling to his shirt. “I’ve met so, so many people in my years, and then I met you. And you were suddenly everything that was missing, and I can’t help but think that…”

“That we’re meant to be?”

In the time you’ve known him, you’ve almost always associated Jungwon with warmth. First, him dispelling that silly legend about vampires being cold, or even heartless. You’d heard it the first time he enveloped you in a hug, when you broke down crying explaining what your ex had done to you. Then, his stories, his honeyed voice painting fantastical stories over the phone. The magic he has, producing the glittery golden scenes around you. His hand, so tender and gentle as it cups your cheek, fingers pressing delicate against the nape of your neck.

But Jungwon’s kisses? The warmest of them all.

[sunny-speaks]

First Kiss

Characters: Henry Morgan (@homecomingvn) x Reader

Pov: you’re just chillin’ with your good buddie Henry, your best friend. One you may have had like a tiny little crush on… You’re whining about how you haven’t had your first kiss, complaining on and on about all these hopeless guys who’ve never liked you back.(Am I indulging myself? Ofc i am) or relationships you couldn’t pursue because you had academic pressure on your back? (ok now im totally projecting)

Fic under the cut! Have a good time reading !!

You were sprawled out on Henry’s bed, whining about how post-secondary school was kicking your ass, how life was kicking your ass, a lot of things that were kicking your ass. To be fair, adulthood seemed much better in YA novels and shows compared to… ugh, reality. Honestly, why do they produce such bullshit to make it seem fun?

“Buttercup, I’m sure things’ll get better for you! Just give it some time, mhm?” Henry added on while you noticed you had grumbled that last line of thought out loud. They then turned all his attention back to his FNAF game before you let out a wistful sigh.

“At least they make it seem so… rose-tinted. What I would do to actually have a love life, I swear to God.” You combed your hands through your hair, the summer heat making you perspire more on your friend’s bedsheets as you groaned at the thought. “Dude, I can’t believe I’m this old and I still haven’t had my first kiss. God, what am I even waiting for at this point…?” You dejectedly mumbled the last part to yourself.

Henry, albeit barely noticeable, perked up at the word ‘first kiss.’ They could hear the discouragement in your voice, ears picking up on that last note. “Well, guess we’re both hopeless romantics then…” 

“I don’t know, I’ve always thought that there’d be this great guy waiting for me when I got old enough. He’d want nothing more than to be the best partner, and he’d just sing my praises. I know it’s kind of…” You flushed a little at your wording, “Self-serving. I know you care about me and all! But it’d be nice to have someone care about me romantically. Ugh, my expectations are too high, aren’t they?” You sat back up, legs dangling off the edge of the mattress, hands fiddled with in your lap.

Were you being too obvious on what you were trying to signal him? You wanted a partner, a boyfriend even, and your best friend would be so perfect and you really wanted him to at least reject you and give you closure rather than drag this out. But if things turned out positively? Well, that’d just be a cherry on top.

He totally wasn’t your first friend and first love. Totally not the only one who you would never outwardly confess to without prompting. Totally not the one that you’ve loved since childhood.Totally not the one who made all your past loves pale in comparison. Totally not th―! You were getting distracted.

“Yeah, don’t think anyone would wanna kiss me…” You muttered to yourself under your breath.

Henry quickly paused his game. He wanted nothing more than to jump out of his seat and say ‘I want to be the best partner! I want to sing your praises! I care about you romantically! If I’m not good enough, you can do anything to fix me! I’ll be whatever you want me to! I’d make sure no one could ever hurt you again! If they did, I’d make them pay suffer rethink their decisions!’ But that would come off a little too desperate. He’s waited years for you.

It wouldn’t kill to wait a little longer.

Well, if only he knew how much you liked him. He was a little… dense when it came to others trying to court him, after all, he never thought that he’d be the object of someone else’s affections. Henry hummed out their reply after some thought, trying to subconsciously hint that there’s someone out there who’d love to be your partner. Even if he didn’t outwardly say it was himself. “I don’t think they’re too high. Maybe there is someone out there perfect for you. Besides, who wouldn’t want to kiss you?”

You sarcastically chuckled with no malice behind it, “Maybe all the people I’ve liked in the past?”

He opened his mouth, sputtering rebuttals, “Well that’s because they were clearly all blind! They just have no taste! You know what?” He gets out of his chair and stands in front of you, pointing an accusing finger at your window.

“What?” You raised an amused and curious eyebrow at his mild aggression to your past crushes. 

Still gesturing to the window, he referred to your past admirations. “Clearly, they’re just dumb, because I would totally kiss you! And I would enjoy it!” He puffs out his chest in some sort of… pride at his words before realizing what he said. “Uh.” After a single noise from him, his face almost erupts into a bright red. “I- wow, um. I- Yeah, uh…”

As he struggled to mentally compute what he had just said to you, to your face, (oh my god he was going to die from rejection or embarrassment or even both, ahhh―) and how you were gonna react, you were in our own world.

Everything going through your brain was a disorganized chaos alarm that had only one cohesive thought.

Which was to shut up his mumbling by kissing him.

And so, that’s what you did. No fear, no hesitation, no consequences. You snaked your hand up to the back of his neck, feeling a couple of goosebumps. You gave him chances to pull away as you drew your heads closer together. Your fingers entwined themselves into strands of his golden hair, nails gently raking his scalp.

Fuck, you left him breathless. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and he swore his heart stopped for that solid second. The question ‘Is this okay?’ was left unsaid, but not unheard when he gave you a shaky whine in response, “Please, yes…” was muttered from the pretty lips of his. Pretty lips that you were about to kiss.

It was inexperienced and a little awkward at first, teeth clacking against each other awkwardly as you both got a feel for what you were trying to do. It was chaste as you pulled away rather quickly to see a very flushed Henry begin to open his eyes that were closed to soak up all the pleasure before you went back in for another, his eyes fluttering wide in surprise.

“Hhn—?” You pulled on his scalp a little, tilting your head to the side so you could slot your mouths together a bit more easily. He jolted a little before slowly hovering his arms around your waist before deciding to settle them there. He keened and pulled you closer to him until there was barely any space between the two of you.

Of course, oxygen was, unfortunately, necessary for one to survive and that need had caused you to pull away from him. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, as you drank up the sight of a dazed Henry who looked back at you with reverent eyes, clearly more than interested in continuing kissing you.

You soaked up all the attention before gently booping him on the nose, “You enjoy that enough?” You gave him a small teasing grin, regardless of your internal panic over how that was your first kiss, with the first guy you’d been friends with, with the first guy you ever really loved like that. God, maybe YA shows weren’t bullshit?

He stammered, light puffs of air passed through his mouth as his eyes darted everywhere except towards yours.

You weren’t that bad at kissing… you hoped. “Was I so good at kissing you that I took your breath away?” You instantly cringed at your words as they slipped out of your mouth. Why did that seem so cheesy?

After a moment of silence, he quietly mumbled, “...yeah.”

You could feel heat rise to your face at his reply. He was too adorable to not tease and he was too honest for his own good. 

“... That was my first kiss too.” He quietly admitted. If it was to you or to himself, neither of you knew. “I’d been saving it for you, buttercup.”

Your heart leaped in your chest at the implications of his statement, hope filling your eyes. “Well, there’s no easy way to say this. Henry, I’ve liked you for years now. It was on and off, if I’m being honest. But you’ve always been the one constant in my life, you’ve always been there for me, supported me. Henry, I really, really, really do like you. I, uh—” You paused, it was so much harder to confess after you had kissed, because it was usually the other way around first. “Will you date me?”

He held a shaky hand to his mouth to barely hide the biggest grin on his face before exclaiming in elation, “Of course, buttercup, a thousand times yes.” He gently began peppering your face with soft, chaste kisses. The temples of your face, the crown of your forehead, the corners of your eyes, the tip of your nose before planting a soft gentle one on your lips.

He picked you up and sat laid on the bed, before getting you to lie beside him as he draped his arms over your shoulder and pulled you in closer. He snuck his head into the crook of your neck and let that guide him to sleep.

“D’you mind if we take a nap, love?”

“Geez, already pulling out the ‘L word,’ Henry? You move quick!” He could feel your laughs reverberate through your chest as you looped your hands around his waist. “Of course we can take a nap. All that excitement tired me out for sure…”

He looked over your shoulder, pulling your warmth closer to him, to see a picture frame with a photo of the two of you.

He had been patient for so long. Clearly, it had paid off.

A/N: AUGH THIS TOOK ME LIKE 4 HOUrS I'M SO SORRY I MEANT THIS TO RELEASE ON JUNE 28TH BUT THEN I WROTE TOO MUCH AND COULDN'T STOP. (1.6k words i think? uGH AND THATS NOT A LOT OF WORDS BY MY STANDARDS EITHERRRR--)

Once again, go check out Henry Morgan from @homecomingvn's tumblr !! They are very cool !! Also I hope you don't mind that I tagged you, I can always remove it if you'd like?

[fostersffff]

If you're someone who's interested in collecting physical media, especially DVDs and blu-rays, I cannot overstate how good an investment a blu-ray drive for your computer is.

There are copious free resources that will allow you to digitize your collection for additional preservation and convenience... and I've placed them beneath this break!

MakeMKV: https://www.makemkv.com/

MakeMKV is the program I use for backing up blu-rays and DVD. It’s “free while in beta”, and as far as I can tell it’s going to continue to be in beta forever. You just need to register the program with the beta code, which can be found here: https://forum.makemkv.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=1053. If your registration ever expires, you can just go to that post and they’ll have it updated with a new one.

“MKV” is “Matroska Video”, which is a container format (named after the Russian nesting doll) that collects the video track, audio track(s), and subtitle track(s) all into one file, which is super convenient for anime, because that means you don’t need to worry about making separate files for different combinations of dubs and subs. My understanding is that this is, essentially, a lossless video copy, and I’ve done comparisons comparing screenshots taken from video playing off the disc and from the .mkv, and I haven’t been able to notice a difference. As for playing .mkv files…

VLC Media Player: https://www.videolan.org/vlc/

The Combined Community Codec Pack (CCCP): https://download.cnet.com/Combined-Community-Codec-Pack/3000-2139_4-10966585.html

VLC is my media player of choice for watching back the stuff I back up. I’m not 100% sure if you need to download the CCCP for this- my backups play fine on my tablet just using the VLC app, and I recently found out they even work off a USB stick plugged into a Samsung Smart TV- but it doesn’t hurt to have.

MakeMKV can also be directly integrated with VLC Media Player to play blu-rays right from the drive, which is tremendously valuable if you're not interest in/don't have the hard drive space for digitization. I think I’ve encountered maybe one thing that couldn’t be played off the disc with this solution, and that was fixed in a subsequent update to MakeMKV. The full breakdown of how to do that can be found here: https://stolafcarleton.teamdynamix.com/TDClient/1893/StOlaf/KB/ArticleDet?ID=128854.

MKVToolNix: https://mkvtoolnix.download/downloads.html

Different companies author discs differently, and I like to keep my stuff organized the same way, which is where this tool comes in. I won’t go into too much detail on this here, but if you ever need to split one large file into smaller files (for example, a disc has 9 episodes of a show to a single title/file, and you want to split them into individual episodes), edit or remove chapter information, or rename audio/subtitle tracks, this is the tool to do it. There's a lot to this, so I would suggest reading the official documentation, but I could also whip up a guide if people are interested.

HandBrake: https://handbrake.fr/

The video encoder for shrinking those backups down to size- my favorite example was getting all 49 episodes of G Gundam down from almost 300gb off-the-discs to just under 50gb. This is also going to be heavily dependent on how powerful your computer is, because encoding takes up a lot of resources. On my computer, which is by no means top-of-the-line, I’d say on average it takes about 50 minutes to encode a 24 minute episode of anime, and that increases exponentially the longer the source material is.

I got the settings I use in HandBrake from this incredibly detailed breakdown of how video encoding works: https://kokomins.wordpress.com/2019/10/10/anime-encoding-guide-for-x265-and-why-to-never-use-flac/#tldr-summary-for-x265-encode-settings. There's a lot of information there, too, but it also provides generic settings to plug in to HandBrake if you don't care to manually adjust the settings for each project you're doing.

And that’s everything I use for my process! A lot of this was trial and error with other programs that cost money, performed worse, and were generally aggravating to use. It's a bit of elbow grease, but the reward is that once something is digitized, you have it forever, exactly the way you want it.

[lykaonimagines]

Inked Hearts- Stephen Strange x Reader

Paring: Stephen Strange x Sorcerer F!Reader

Word Count: 3,282

Description: After five years apart, Stephen and Y/N are finally reunited and realize how deep their love for one another runs. 

“I’m always coming back, you can bet on that. You’re the only place I call home.” - Only Place I Call Home by Every Avenue.

“These words you should always remember, to you, my heart I surrender.” - My Heart I Surrender by I Prevail.

Other Things: Established relationship. Post-End Game (Like immediately after). Slightly angsty but mostly loving and fluff.

Warnings: Some swearing. Suggestive in parts, but not smut. Tattoos? (Not sure if that needs to be a warning haha)

Masterlist

Stumbling from the battlefield wreckage of the Avenger compound through a portal into their bedroom, the two sorcerers stare at one another silently, the weight of the last five years finally crashing down on them.

His lover’s eyes look exhausted and dull, lacking the usual brightness in them from before The Snap. Her face littered with scars, new and old. Many he had never seen. The stress of his time gone more than evident on her features. Worn, tired, and broken she manages to smile at him as his chest aches. He caused this. His absence. His plan.

“I can’t really believe this is real,” she comments, shifting in her stance to lift a leg up and tug off her boot, swapping to the other to do the same. “It feels like you’re a dream, or figment of my mind that will disappear when I turn around. Five fucking years Stephen…”

Sending his cloak away from him, Stephen tentatively takes a step forward while offering his arms to her, “Well, I’m home now.”

Y/N rushes into his arms immediately, face buried against his neck as she lets out a choked sob. Holding her tightly to his body, he presses kisses to her hair and whispers soft assurances.

“I thought you were really gone,” she whispers a few minutes after her sobs subside, still snuggling into his embrace. “I felt like I lost part of myself.”

Stephen’s heart breaks at her words, his hand gently rubbing her back, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what exactly?”

“Not being able to tell you. Being selfish and allowing myself those last minutes in your arms. Being gone for five years. Not being here for you. You having to step up and take my place. Everything.”

“I can’t be angry with you,” she replies softly. “How can I? You did what you had to do to save the universe. My own issues kind of pale in comparison to half the population of the universe disappearing.”

“What you suffered is important to me. It was the only way we could be like this again… but I still caused you pain.”

“As I said, I knew the risks of being with you. Sacrifice for the greater good in the grand scheme of things and all that.”

“I’m going to spend every day making it up to you,” he mumbles into her hair.

“Don’t make promises we both know you can’t keep.”

Pulling back, he looks down at her tear-stained face, words caught in his throat.

“Stephen I don’t love you despite you being the one trying to keep everyone safe and making sacrifices to do that. I love you because that’s part of you. You could have stood by if you wanted, but you didn’t. You did everything you could to save as many people as you could, even if it meant losing years of your own life. I said I’d be your partner, knowing exactly who you are and what you do. And I continued being your partner, watching the Sanctum and handling threats. Because that’s who we are.”

He looks down at her mystified, her words seemingly tumbling around in his head. She had all right to be angry. To hate him. To hate their life together. Yet there she stood, holding every piece together when he couldn’t. Staring back at him with that still loving gaze.

“Close your eyes,” he whispers, leaning forward to press feather-light kisses to each of her eyelids after they flutter shut. His lips kiss a path down her nose and across her cheek. Then the lightest of brushes on the edge of her mouth as her breathing gets heavier.

“I love you, every part, every minute, every day, and every year,” he continues as he backs them toward the bed. Her legs hit the edge and he carefully hoists her up on to the mattress. “My heart belongs to you, and only you for eternity.”

Groaning at his words and touches, she squirms under him, “This sounds like a spell Stephen.”

He chuckles and his fingertips brush against her jaw, “More like a promise.”  

He proceeds to trail his kisses sloppily down her neck and collarbone, just slow enough to pull his favorite sounds from her lips. His hands reaching for the hem of her shirt, his lips leaving her skin just long enough for it to pass between them.

It had been too long.

Continuing his progress down, he pauses as he notices unfamiliar ink under his nose. Leaning back to take a better look, his heart clenches.

SVS. His initials in a simple heart frame. Inked permanently in her skin, right above her own heart. Another line of text sits above it stating simply, “You’re the only place I call home.”

Reaching out, he runs his fingertips across the letters slowly before his gaze flickers to her eyes that had opened and were now studying him. “When did you get this?” he asks, coughing abruptly to hide the way his voice nearly cracked on the words.

“Three years ago,” she admits, watching his fingertips trace the ink. “After two years… I realized I needed to accept that you might not come back. There was still a part of me that wanted to believe you had some kind of plan, that you didn’t think losing half the population was a win. But I also knew it meant other things had to happen. I don’t know. It hit me on the two year anniversary of The Snap that you really weren’t going to just walk in the door suddenly. I wanted you with me somehow.”

Stephen nods slowly, still not quite believing the letters in front of him.

“When I got back from Titan, I had your… ashes on me,” she says looking past him at the wall. “Since well, you know. I couldn’t just wash them down the drain. Sort of shook them all off into a container until I got you an urn. When I decided to get the tattoo, commemorative tattoos were really big as you’d imagine. So I took some of the ashes to go in the ink.”

His fingers freeze on her skin, and his eyes drift up to meet hers, “Wait… this ink… has my ashes in it?”

Y/N nods sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck in embarrassment, “I mean… it was a big thing and I wanted you with me and it seemed like a positive way to think about it instead of returning here covered in them and-”

His lips suddenly press to hers, cutting off the stream of words. His eyes drifting shut as he desperately moves them in rhythm with hers.

Swiping his tongue over her lip and sliding his hands down to grab her hips, he smiles into the kiss as a breathy sound leaves her body.

“Stephen…” her glossy eyes stare back up at him with want as he leans back.

“We should shower first darling,” he mumbles before pressing a kiss to the center of her throat, pulling a sharp hiss from her.

“You couldn’t have started with that,” she groans and reaches up to card her fingers through his hair. “You had to wait until I’m worked up Stephen?”

“It just occurred to me I’ve spent the last five years as ash, and we both just came off a bloody dirty battlefield,” he answers, pulling her hands from his hair and pulling her up with him as he slides off the bed.

“I suppose I can agree… but Strange,” she grips his arm to pull him closer and growl in his ear. “I’ve waited years, we’re making use of that big shower.”

Turning his head to nip at her earlobe, he sends a shiver down her spine, “I was expecting nothing less.”

-

In the weeks following his return, Strange spent most of his time around the sanctum. Most of that time he spent attached to Y/N in some form, the two of them hating to be separated for long. But the world continued on, and they had tasks to take care of.

The most recent being a request, or maybe order, from Wong to clean the sanctum that had been partially neglected in his absence and her grief. And that’s how Stephen found himself in his office sorting through five years of un-filed paperwork.

Even with half the universe gone, Y/N had seemed to have her work cut out for her. Flicking papers this way and that toward their correct filing cabinets, Stephen pauses as he uncovers an envelope with his name on the front. Just ‘Stephen’, no postage or address of any kind.

Opening the envelope he pulls out folded paper and flips it open, stopping for a moment when he recognizes the handwriting and the date at the top of the page. A letter to him from Y/N seemingly just months before he returned. Smoothing out the folds in the paper, he starts to read.

“Stephen,

I know this is dumb. Writing you a letter again. Knowing you’ll never read it. But it’s been five years today since that bastard tore you away from me. I still spend hours thinking about what I could have done different, how it could have been different. But I know you wouldn’t have allowed it.

I dream of you every night. And for a moment it’s pure bliss. Wrapped in your arms, drunk on your lips. Your brilliant blue-green eyes full of life and love staring back into my own. And for that moment I’m lost in the ecstasy of you. Then as quickly as it came, you fade into dust in my arms and I scream for you. Chanting your name like a damn incantation until I wake up alone in our bed, heart racing, desperately searching the sheets for you. All to be smacked with reality once again. That you’re gone.

They say year after year the hurt will lessen, that the memories will fade. Then tell me why I still hear your voice as I walk the halls. Still feel your grip on my hips like your hands never left. And see your face in every crowd I pass on these busy streets. Then I look for you, and you’re not there.

I don’t think I can ever truly let go of you Stephen. I don’t want the memories to fade. Most nights I want to lose myself in my dreams, delaying the inevitable end and waking to a reality without you.

Wong says the spirit can prevail after death sometimes. At times even appearing to you when in astral form. I search for you each day and find nothing, but it gives me comfort that maybe you’re there. He says he thinks you would hang around to protect me, that it’s just your nature. And maybe you have. Maybe you can see me sitting at your desk, in your big important sorcerer chair of the ancients as I write this to you.

If you do see me, I hope I make you proud. One of the only things that keeps me going is knowing I can’t disappoint you. I can’t let you down. And that maybe one day, somehow I’ll stumble onto an answer. There’s been whispers of ideas from the Avengers. Though they all scattered to the wind after the death of Thanos. Maybe they’ll finally have found the answer. And if they have, I’ll throw my all into it. This is where I’m supposed to say it’s for the greater good, that I’ll try my hardest to save half the universe, because it’s the noble and right thing to do.

But fuck that. I do it for you. I’d scour this universe and face any danger just to hold you one more time. Maybe that makes me a bad sorcerer, maybe it makes me a bad super hero. Maybe it makes me a terrible person. Though I can’t bring myself to care anymore. Though you know me. I say I don’t care, but if there’s a scream from outside in the next five minutes, I’ll be out there in seconds.

Maybe I’ll never see you again, and I’ll grow old here in this sanctum. Until time or enemy catches up to me. Then I can only hope to be reunited with you again. The only one I ever have or ever will love. Because you’re the only place I call home, Stephen Vincent Strange.

Your Love, Y/N.”

Finishing reading the letter, Stephen wipes quickly as the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. Twisting it in between his fingers, he quickly comes up with a plan.

Pulling over a ceramic pot, he drops the letter in and snaps to set it on fire. Within seconds its ash, and he pours it into a small counter before quickly portaling out of the house on a mission.

-

Maybe he hadn’t completely thought this through, he cringes after the second time of Y/N putting her hand on his sore chest. Trying to smile through the pain, he knows he does a poor job.

And an even poorer job of hiding it in general. He never slept with a shirt. He always wanted to shower with her. She was getting suspicious of the number of times he’d magic-ed his clothing change and rushed off to Kamar-Taj the last few days.

“Ok that’s it,” Y/N finally snaps, pulling Stephen closer to her by his shirt. “You’re hurt and hiding it, I know it. Off with the shirt.”

“It’s nothing darling,” he tries to lie, flashing her his most charming smile.

“Charm doesn’t work when I’m worried about your health Strange. Shirt. Off.”

Sighing in defeat, he finally pulls his shirt from his body, smiling at the small gasp from Y/N.

“Is that… a tattoo?” she asks as she leans in for a closer look, her mouth snapping shut as she reads it. “You got this for me?”

“I was hoping to give it a few more days to heal before you saw it,” he admits sheepishly, looking down at the ink.

A matching heart to her own ink, but with her own initials in it. And a line of text above it proclaiming, “To you, my heart I surrender.”

“I-I don’t know what to say,” Y/N mumbles in awe, fighting back the tears that start to drip down her cheeks.

“Hey, hey, it’s meant to be a happy thing, not sad,” he coos, pulling her into his embrace. “My love for you.”

“I love it,” she says with a sniffle, fingers running along the open skin near the tattoo. “What prompted this surprise?”

“I found your letter.”

“Letter?”

“The one you wrote to me a few months ago.”

“Oh… that was probably a depressing read.”

“Hard to read yes, but also the single most heartfelt and lovely thing I’ve ever read as well. And that’s why I burned it and put it in the ink.”

“You put ashes from that letter in your tattoo ink?”

“If yours has some of me in it, mine needed something of you. Besides, it sounds more mystic and magical when you say it that way.”

“I’d commend your flair for the dramatics, but I’m the one that started this trend so I can’t,” she smiles, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

“Oh wait, there is more. Something I found in a tome at Kamar-Taj,” he says motioning for her to remove her shirt as well.

“You learned something at Kamar-Taj that involves me removing my shirt? Should I be jealous?” she teases as she removes the fabric.

“Previously I would have said a little jealousy is good,” he mutters as he steps in closer to her, running his hand down her bare arm. “But I don’t think devotion is something we’re struggling with, darling. So it’s just wasted time. I’ve also just branded myself with the initials of a Master of the Mystic Arts, I don’t think my charm or wit is enough for someone to risk your wrath.”

“Fair point Strange. Besides, I trust you, I’m just teasing,” she smiles up at him. “Now show me this trick of yours.”

“It’s simple really,” he comments as he quickly moves his hands and she feels a warmth on her chest. As he lowers his hands, he looks at her with a satisfied smirk. “Perfect.”

“I spoke too soon,” she laughs as she looks down at the orange glow coming from her tattoo. “You’ve brought the dramatics afterall.”

“Well if you don’t like it…” he begins as he raises his hands.

Quickly grabbing his hands in her own, she pulls him closer instead, “I never said that. Though I think yours should match.”

“It will,” he nods, rubbing his thumb along her knuckles. “Once it’s healed and not aching every time it’s touched.”

“Have you been keeping it clean Doctor?” she asks leaning in to take a better look. “Because it looks like you aren’t doing the proper after care there.”

Stephen blinks at her slowly, mouth agape, “I can keep a tattoo clean, I have a Ph.D in medicine Y/N.”

“Has it started peeling at all yet?”

“Yes.”

“Are you still using the ointment, just washing, or what?”

“Just washing it.”

“When it peels you switch to a gentle lotion, I’ll let you borrow some, it’ll help,” she nods as she pats the center of his chest.

“Since when did you become an expert on tattoos hm?” he asks with a raised brow.

“Since I didn’t want to have to tell anyone you gave me an infection. Being it’s your ashes and all,” she grins, taking a step back and toward their bathroom.

“You would,” he mutters, sliding up behind her to wrap his arms around her waist.

“How about you go get comfy and I’ll come back with the lotion… and maybe I’ll even rub it in for you,” she says, chuckling as he shudders at her hips pressing back into him.

“Just on the tattoo?” he whispers in her ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down her spine.

“I could be persuaded to do a bit more,” she remarks, bringing her hand up grip the back of his hair as he lets out a hiss. “That is, if you’re a good boy and go wait on the bed for me.”

“Consider me an excellent boy then,” he says as he detangles himself from her and crosses the room to throw himself onto the large bed. “But you’ve got two minutes to grab that and get your ass back in here, or I’m coming in for you.”

Crossing over into their bathroom, Y/N digs out the bottle she was looking for and briefly looks up in the mirror. A smile plastered across her face and her hair a mess, it’s the first time she’s seen herself actually look happy in… who even knows.

Clutching the bottle to her chest, she slips back into their bedroom and leans against the doorframe as she observes her sorcerer.

His frame draped casually across the bed, his hands moving quickly as he forms various shapes with his magic in the air above him. The soft glow of the magic lighting up his handsome features as he goes. After a few moments his head turns toward her, his loving gaze holding her still in the moment as a lazy smile spreads across his face and the magic dissipates, his hand reaching out inviting her onto the bed.

Five years was a long time. But it was worth every second.

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Stephen Taglist: @gaitwae​ @geeky-politics-46​ @elicheel​

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[therealemaskye]

it is desperately missing sanders sides hours (which is pretty much every hour for me) and i just rewatched my favorite sanders sides related video to date: “flirting with anxiety.” i have so many thoughts on this episode i thought i’d throw them out into the void that is tumblr. here is my unorganized list:

• the first thing that comes to mind when rewatching this episode is just how much roman and virgil have grown together. as a comparison, let’s use the only other video they had with each other. in “the dark side of disney,” roman was annoyed at virgil simply being there. he was in disbelief that virgil could even be a fan of something like disney. to quote roman, “disney movies are the embodiment of goodness and purity; something you would know nothing about.” throughout “flirting with anxiety,” just by the body language you can tell how comfortable the two are with each other. they bounce off of each other with ease, and make up a pretty entertaining matchmaking team, which is something roman once thought virgil couldn’t understand: love. both episodes are almost similar, though, in that both roman and virgil bring different sides to the table (pun not entirely intended). in “the dark side of disney,” roman and virgil discuss the different messages they see in disney movies; in “flirting with anxiety,” the two have very different approaches when it comes to flirting. their differences, which once made them argue with each other, now made them a team.

• as well as having their differences, we also see how much they have in common. when you think about it, there’s a lot; more specifically in what they like. bringing this back to “the dark side of disney,” it feels like they’ve come full circle from where they started, back when they discovered they could even have the same interests at all. the stickers on nico’s laptop stood out to me as sort of easter eggs to these kinds of moments in the past: the disney sticker (the dark side of disney), the paramore sticker (roman must have called virgil a nickname related to this somehow; also, emo music is a perfect combination), and the nightmare before christmas sticker (accepting anxiety: “you can’t have my sick nasty tim burton posters!”).

• this next note is the whole reason i wanted to make this post really: thomas’ monologue in the bathroom. on the surface of “flirting with anxiety,” there are no telling references to what had happened previously in the canon timeline: “putting others first.” this asides episode was sort of a breath of fresh air after the messy cliffhanger in the main series. now, i don’t know if this was intentional or not — but looking closer, this entire scene is full of insight into what roman specifically is feeling after the events of svs redux. let’s break it down:

1.) “look, i know this is awkward… and maybe not the best place to strike up a conversation. …i don’t really know what to say to you; i honestly don’t know what i’m doing at the mall today. i don’t know what i was looking for… i guess that answers my question: the mall is where you go if you want something, but you don’t know what it is because the mall has everything, right?” at the end of this quote, the frame shows roman looking in the mirror with an almost painful expression. he seems to realize how close those words hit to home: roman is lost. after everything that happened, roman has to be feeling like his world has turned upside down. he is unconsciously avoiding the issue by making thomas feel like he has to go to the mall. roman is the part of thomas that doesn’t know what he’s looking for.

2.) “i don’t know… ugh, i don’t know a lot about anything… least of all myself. …and i feel that the hardest when it comes to… knowing what i want.” once again, the frame is a cut to roman. it is such a punch to the gut, because this is exactly what caused the whole mess in the first place. think about it — who was the most torn on the wedding or the callback? it wasn’t patton or janus, logan or virgil: roman didn’t know what he wanted. roman has clearly followed patton’s lead since the beginning; he wanted to be the pure and good prince that he was, and patton was just that to him — pure and good. yet, he would do anything to achieve his dreams — thomas’ dreams. that included ditching a friend’s wedding, and friendship is something that roman holds as dear to his heart as patton does. roman was by far the most torn of all sides about this decision; that’s why it was so impactful that roman was the one to decide to go to the wedding. from the get go you could tell he didn’t want to, but at his core, he is a fundamentally good person; someone who is righteous for righteousness’ sake. this is a value that stems directly from his admiration for patton: so you can imagine how blindsided he was when patton had a change of heart in svs redux. to roman, this huge, personal sacrifice he made was for naught.

3.) “but i know that… i want to take a chance… and talk to you. i have to, because… i don’t know when i’m going to know what i want again… and i know that if i don’t act on these feelings right now, i’m… going to regret it.” the one thing roman is so sure that he wants, and always has wanted.. is love. there’s the placement of the panels again; when thomas says, “i don’t know when i’m going to know what i want again,” the panel has roman in frame. it’s almost as if that is what roman himself is thinking — finally, he has a chance to get something he knows he wants, and it isn’t out of reach. but then after that, when thomas says, “and i know that if i don’t act on these feelings right now, i’m… going to regret it,” it is virgil in frame the entire time. virgil’s feelings on the whole svs redux matter are entirely up to fan interpretation — he wasn’t present at all. i at least can provide evidence as to what i think he is feeling with this frame — virgil knows how much roman regrets going to that wedding. as we know, virgil fervently sided with patton in “selfishness v. selflessness.” now, i don’t think it’s because he truly believes it to be the right decision; he’s anxiety. he was the part of thomas that irrationally worried that if he didn’t show up to his friends’ wedding, thomas would lose them forever. plus, virgil is a follower, not a leader; he states as such in “fitting in.” before, as a dark side, he followed janus; now, he has latched on to someone else: patton. to him, not agreeing with patton meant agreeing with janus; you can imagine his feelings on that. so, maybe virgil regrets his own stance on the case — moral of the story, virgil is tired of regrets. he knows how horrible they are first hand, being anxiety and all; and i like to think he’d rather not put roman through that any more if he can help it. at this moment, virgil knows he has to do something to make this thing happen — which later turns out to be virgil taking that leap of faith, and pushing thomas back to nico.

• don’t worry, i’m going to touch on where i just left off; but, i’d like to bring up another note that made me want to do this. it is honestly very hard not to notice that throughout the entire episode, roman and virgil never fail to bring one thing up: lies. they scold thomas for lying and even call him a liar multiple times. when they exit the bathroom, the both of them are adamant that if they are to go forward, the basis of a potential relationship cannot be deceit. it is so obvious that roman and virgil are the two sides who hold the most disdain for janus; janus is a reminder of what they have failed to do. for virgil, janus was a part of his life that he regrets because of how he mistreated thomas and the group. for roman, he wanted exactly what janus wanted as well: to go to the callback. janus proved that thomas could’ve and should’ve gone to the callback, something that roman wasn’t able to do.

• before going into the most prinxiety part of this post, i’d lastly like to expand on nico’s song idea: “i think i like the idea of someone’s life, or an aspect of of their life feeling like… a trash bin. and the waste keeps piling up… and piling up… until it inevitably… spills out into the rest of their life.” funnily enough, nico apologizes if it hit to close to home, and thomas adds that it’s true: his life is full of wasted opportunities. this once again feels like a reference to the callback. the entire explanation, though, feels like foreshadowing to the future of sanders sides. as i’ve discussed, there is clearly a divide among the sides; the biggest one they’ve ever had. yet, there lacks a resolution to the issue at the moment. it seems that all of it will continue to pile up until the repression of their glaring problem spills out into thomas’ life.

• i’d argue this is the most important scene in this episode: virgil pushing thomas. the look of dejection on roman’s face as nico walks away is a reminder that virgil is indeed tired of regrets. at that moment, i don’t think there was a single other reason why he did what he did than virgil’s desperate need to see roman happy again. whether you ship it or not, it is clear how much these two care for each other, especially in their last interaction. virgil is constantly surprising roman — i like to think that’s why he started to like him so much. the moment that virgil pushed thomas was probably one of the most surprising things roman has ever seen from him, though. a very, very wonderful surprise. you can just tell how much admiration roman has after virgil has done this just by the one word he uses: bravery. let’s take this back to “fitting in.” roman is very clearly protective of his house and its noble traits, and bravery is one of the most important ones of all for a gryffindor. bravery is what roman is all about; when roman calls virgil brave, it is one of the biggest compliments he could give someone. then you can just feel it in your bones the warm affection behind “shut up, emo,” and its subsequent shoulder touch. it showcases, once again, a huge contrast in how they use to behave with one another — there is so much fondness and respect that wasn’t there before. this is honestly one of (if not the most) heartfelt scene in the series.

and that is all! if you got all the way through my terribly long rambling, thank you for listening! this show means so much to me and i miss it so much thomas pls drop the next episode challenge (but also no pressure). if you couldn’t tell i’m a roman stan. okay byyye.

[nevernightcitylights]

Gwynriel vs Elriel

Alright so I’ve been reluctant to post this bc some of y’all are wildin when it comes to defending your chosen ship. But I digress.

As an avid SJM reader, as we all are, I think one thing we can agree on is how f-ing good this woman is at hiding foreshadowing and choosing her words carefully to lead you away or toward certain plot lines

From my observations the only reason I feel personally (not saying it’s true or otherwise) that Elriel is less likely to be cannon is because of how obvious it is. Like azriel even stated in the bonus chapter (in a rather bratty way I may add) how can two of his brothers get two of the sisters and he not get the third? I don’t think SJM would have stated it so blatantly if it was… you know… gunna happen. I get the symmetry of it. But if it really was to be the case… why say it like that…

Also back to SJM and her sneaky ways of writing - and this wasn’t even all that sneaky I just don’t see a lot of people mentioning it and when they do they only mention one side of it - is these lil excerpts here

Elain and Azriel:

Gwyn and Azriel:

Do you see it?

Azriels shadows are literally repelled by Elain and just the sound of her breath whereas they reached for gwyns.

I don’t think Elriel is endgame sorry to say (mainly because a lot of y’all are v passionate about it and I’m afraid I might get cursed for saying it) I do think sjm worded it this way for a reason as she does many things. I couldn’t stop thinking about this comparison for aaaages BECAUSE it was such a distinct contrast.

I do wanna say the fact that both Elain and Gwyn were in the chapter with such contrasting interactions makes it clear they’ll both have a big part to play in his book. What parts those will be is only knows to the author herself. Unfortunately I do think that yes, it will be another mate story and since we know his mate is not Elain… yeah. And I knooooowwww so many of you don’t want that, which is probably whyyyy you want Elriel to be together so badly bc it’d be a chosen love story, but… mate stories are literally all sjm writes. Even crescent city Bryce and hunt call each other mates like- (but will be get a curve ball now that Bryce is you know where and sjm is also notorious for switching up the love interests? A much better debate imo)

[kil-me-n0w]

I have something to say.

Hello there, I’m back with another thing to talk about.

JJK spoilers from the beginning up to the latest chapter- just don’t scroll if you aren’t caught up to the latest chapter as of February 10th 2023

I swear on everything if you get spoiled at this point it’s your own goddamn fault.

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So. We as a fandom have this misconception going that I would like to correct, and I’ve been meaning to talk about it for a while but denial is NOT just a river in Egypt- and now there’s physically no way to deny this so!

These two, we always say that these two are parallels to these two.

Which is absolutely true, but who we compare them to is wrong.

Every video and post of comparisons between SatoSugu and ItaFushi have paired up Gojo and Megumi, and Yuji and Geto.

And thats wrong.

Just hear me out for a second.

We always match up Megumi and Gojo, mostly because they both have spikey hair, they’re both super powerful with influential families, they’re both meant to be clan leaders, and Gojo got raised by Tsumiki with Megumi.

On the other side of that we always match up Geto and Yuji since they’ve both got an entity possessing them, Gojo was supposed to have killed them, they died and came back to life because of the entities possessing them, and they both have ties to Kenjaku.

None of these comparisons are necessarily WRONG, but they’re so surface level it hurts, and we’re missing the bigger picture here.

The right parallel is Yuji and Gojo, with Megumi and Geto. And Sukuna’s possession of Megumi confirmed that even more.

Starting off with Yuji and Gojo!

Not only is it surface level shit, like their joking personalities and light hair, it’s the deeper things. Their characters as a whole.

Yuji and Gojo were both born to do things that shouldn’t be possible, containing Sukuna and Having the six eyes. They’ve got strong moral compasses and on top of that, they have a strong sense of duty. Even when it comes down to the wire, they’ll choose their responsibility. Their characters as a whole are perfectly complimentary to each other. Not to mention their happy acts to mask the fact that they don’t like anything happening around them.

Then theres Megumi and Geto.

Again, surface level shit, dark hair, the asshole tendencies, and now the possession by another entity. But their similarities are also much deeper.

Geto before death was stuck in a “only the strong survive” mindset. He believed that weakness meant death. And that’s exactly what megumi thinks too. He sees strength as necessary for survival, not as something that gets developed. Another similarity is their power, they’re both able to summon curses, while their methods of obtaining those curses are very different, the basis of their abilities is the same: they use cursed energy to summon curses. They also both had a pretty damn strong sense of Justice, even if it seemed skewed at times, they saw injustice and couldn’t stand for it, fighting against it.

Now for my own personal inputs since I write quite a bit like Akutami. In the case of Gojo killing Geto, if Yuji had ever been turned to the dark side, or fully possessed by Sukuna, Megumi wouldn’t be able to bring himself to kill Yuji. I’ll say it again.

Megumi wouldn’t be able to kill Yuji. Not because he’s not strong enough, but because he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to kill Yuji. He dosent have that sense of duty like Gojo and Yuji have- because while it would cause Yuji HUGE distress, he would be able to kill Megumi. Because that sense of duty, of NEEDING to do what’s right, that’s stuck on Yujis brain constantly.

And then theres the whole Geto destroying a town to save two little girls thing. Yuji is a good person, a kind person. But he’d never be able to do that. You know who would? Megumi. That strong sense of Justice would take over and he’d tear down the world to just save one person.

Geto and Megumi fall more under “grey” or “villain” mindsets, sacrificing many to save one. Where as Gojo and Yuji check the boxes for the classic heroes, sacrificing the one person- regardless of who it is- to save everyone else.

Thanks for reading this far- maybe this time I won’t ghost tumblr for like a whole ass year until I get another random idea!

ANYWAYS

TLDR

The right way to paralell SatoSugu and ItaFushi is with Yuji as Gojo, and Megumi as Geto.

[ddarker-dreams]

In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida. Bruno x F Reader x Fugo

Word count: 1.3k. Note: i finally dusted off this draft thanks to gorgeous art drawn by @nanabrainrot​ depicting a preview i posted a while back ... it immediately whipped up my inspiration to finish things off 😌

[Scarlet Ribbons description]

There is very little that escapes Pannacotta Fugo’s notice.

He’s a man obsessed with details, down to the most minute. While this has aided him in his studies and other educational endeavors, it can at times be more of a bane than a boon, depending. This would be a prime example of the latter. Though he contented himself by admiring the passing scenery during the drive back to Napoli, he couldn’t shake the uncanny feeling of being watched. It wasn’t malicious, so much as it was something else, smoldering yet otherwise unidentifiable aside from that lone detail.

While Fugo had a guess about where this stare was coming from, he didn’t rush to confirm it. Ignorance is bliss, or so they say. He’s curious how the idiom would adjust for partial ignorance.

It wasn’t until a ways into the drive that he worked up the courage to confirm his suspicions. Just as he predicted, a pair of cobalt eyes belonging to Bruno Bucciarati greet him upon glancing in the rearview mirror. They lock gazes and hold it unblinkingly. All is silent, save for the hum of the rental air conditioner, and cars passing them by on the highway.

That is, until you pipe up in a half-intelligible voice. “First position… no… fifth…. position…”

Both of their attention redirects to you.

Presently, you’re helping yourself by using Fugo’s shoulder as a makeshift pillow. You’ve been out like a light since you plopped into the backseat. Alarm was Fugo’s initial reaction — who could expect him to think straight when you were so close? Closer than you’ve ever been. The warmth your body radiates only pales in comparison to the flush holding his cheeks hostage. Fugo thought it would fade away with time, and it did, up to the point you mumbled a cute little message while in the land of dreams.

In a way only you could, the tension threatening to build in the air momentarily dissipates. It’s like you’re looking out for him even in your sleep.

Quietly as he can, he clears his throat, not trusting his voice to have the strength necessary for the conversation ahead. “You don’t think there’s someone following us, do you Bucciarati?”

“No, I don’t,” Bruno replies without missing a beat. He must’ve been anticipating the question. “Why do you ask?”

If one applies pressure to a wound in the wrong manner, they can do more harm than good when it comes to stopping the bleeding. This concept is what bounces around in Fugo’s mind unceasingly. He wouldn’t mind if almost anyone else in this world bled. But this is Bruno, a man he admires more than his own parentage, to the point he’d follow any order received without question. Maybe it’d be best if Fugo dropped it. They both know where this could head otherwise, an unspoken yet mutually understood truth nonetheless.

This could potentially be the point of no return.

Yet, if there was ever a time Fugo would cross the line, it would be because you stand on the other side waiting.

“I just happened to notice you were looking back here a lot, is all.”

The atmosphere shifts to something colder without the actual temperature changing.

While not an outright challenge, it’s an undoubtedly bold move on Fugo’s part. Bruno is back to looking at the road ahead. Fugo notes the tension he’s holding in his shoulders, how his lips have been pressed into a firm line. He must be giving this plenty of thought like Fugo is, if not more so. His fingers are tight on the steering wheel.

It’s simple, really, Fugo reasons. Bruno’s behavior could be explained even by someone who wasn’t a genius like himself. At first, Fugo thought Bruno found you attractive and nothing else. Not a farfetched theory by any means. You’re a looker, even he could admit that when he first met you and wondered what good your addition would bring to the team. It wasn’t until recently that Fugo came to terms that it might go beyond that, into something more intimate.

Bruno almost always had a smile on his face when you were present. He hung on your every word, setting aside whatever he was doing previously to give you his undivided attention. While he took to Fugo’s advice for legal and financial matters, you were his top pick for jobs that required interacting with or winning over people. Bruno saw potential in you before Fugo even gave you the time of day.

Only a fool would chalk that up to simple physical attraction. Unfortunately, a fool is the furthest thing Fugo was from being.

“This was the longest job she’s had since joining Passione,” Bruno finally speaks up, his voice low so as not to disturb you. “Polpo will be expecting a full account from me. He had his reservations on sending her with us, I hope this will prevent any reservations in the future.”

The grace with which Bruno redirected the conversation was enough to earn Fugo’s admiration. He was being truthful by saying all this, though there were details he purposefully omitted. Treating you like his responsibility is a smart play. Fugo knows a brick wall when he sees one and decides not to press his luck further.

The topic could’ve been dropped altogether for propriety’s sake. However, much to Fugo’s disbelief, it’s Bruno who removes the spotlight from himself and shines it blindingly toward his younger teammate.

“What about you, Fugo? You were worrying over her plenty yourself.”

“That’s…” Fugo trails off, wetting his lips. “How could I not? Any mistakes she made would reflect poorly on Passione, and by extension, us. I was looking out for all of our best interests.”

“Mhm,” Bruno gives the most disbelieving affirmation.

Fugo, while frustrated, can’t bring himself to feel offended over the humbling he just received. Other men in Passione have had limbs refused when challenging their leader for less. Bruno was a compassionate and forgiving man when compared to that, or any other person, for that matter. He huffs and sinks back into his seat. Meanwhile, you keep snoozing away, entirely oblivious to the verbal battlefield with arrows whirring in every which way around you.

“... How do you think she did?” Bruno inquires. He wonders if Bruno knew how tender his voice became when you were the conversation topic.

“I thought that elderly couple wouldn’t ever give [First] back to us,” Fugo can’t help but joke.

You did well, he feels that goes without saying. The job was as such — some old money with connections to Passione that went way back where to stay in their Posillipo summer villa for a time. Neither Fugo nor Bruno knew anything about them aside from the fact the older gentleman recently retired from his business in Chicago, or as much as a mobster for life could ‘retire’. He cherished his wife dearly and wanted nothing but the best protection during their stay.

The Signora was especially taken with you. She found your company a delight, to the point she asked you to join her for breakfast every morning. Her interests in the arts aligned well with yours.

“I wouldn’t have let them keep her,” Bruno replies with a smile. Fugo doesn’t doubt it either.

No, they both have to share you enough as is. This team that Bruno is starting to build can already feel confining at times when either of them wants your attention — and it’s just the three of you for now. Apparently, Bruno has some ideas for new members he wishes to invite. Fugo may not be a religious man, yet he still prays whoever comes next doesn’t find themselves wrapped around your finger as well. That’d be pure misery for him.

Though when he looks at your sleepy face, and your soft, glossy lips that are almost always curled into the sweetest smile, he can’t help but have his doubts.

[daybreakmusings]

I was wandering around the tags and came across the worst take today. Basically the summary of the post goes like this:

Nesta has never done anything for Elain besides just “sitting with her in the library post turning” to prevent her from doing something stupid like jumping out the window. They then go on to say that since Elain was never written to be suicidal...it was all just an excuse for Nesta to avoid interacting with the IC and not genuine care or concern on Nesta’s part. 

And it gets better. Remember that time when Elain got captured by the cauldron after Nesta’s first scry attempt? Apparently she’s the villain for that too. They reference Nesta telling Azriel: “You will Die” when he said that he was getting back as proof that Nesta was wrong for hesitating and not a good sister because she did not try to save Elain like Feyre did.

They end their post stating that “its sad how Nesta would do such for Elain but there are no actions to back this up. All Nesta has done is try to control Elain and suppress her”

I don’t even know where to start with this take but i’ll try to keep it short. But I blame myself for wondering around the actor/acosf tags. How is it possible that these takes only get worse as time goes on?

1. Nesta has never done anything for Elain besides just sitting with her and it was really an excuse to avoid the IC

I kid you not. I actually had to stop and process this for a moment. How anyone can even think this is true is beyond me. From the start of book one, Nesta lived for Elain. In case OP forgot,  It wasn’t just Elain who had been traumatized from the cauldron, but Nesta too. 

In fact, one could argue that Nesta’s experience was significantly worse. The cauldron loved Elain. Loved her so much that it even gave her a gift. The same couldn’t be said for Nesta. Who knows how her experience went in comparison. Yet despite all of that, Nesta was always there for Elain. Nesta made sure that the windows were locked just in case. We were never in Elain’s head to know if she was suicidal, but Nesta prepared for the worse and somehow that’s a bad thing? Somehow this equates to her as “doing nothing?”. Elain was so removed from the world and was experiencing so much pain that she detached from everything and everyone. Anyone in Nesta’s position would have done the same.

As for the “avoiding to interact with the IC part, the only people who actually visited the sisters was Rhys and Cassian. None the IC came near them for weeks...so how can Nesta avoid people she never sees?  Either way, should she want to take the time to heal and familiarize herself with her new body/new world without the IC around, she has ever right to do so. Not even Feyre was open to interacting with the IC when she first came to Velaris. 

“Secondly,” Rhys went on, “in regard to the two bastards at my door, it’s up to you whether you want to meet them now, or head upstairs like a wise person, take a nap since you’re still looking a little peaky...”

“I was drowning in that old heaviness, clawing my way up to a surface that might not ever exist. I’d slept for the Mother knew how long, and yet … “Just come get me when they’re gone.”

One thing that bothered me about Nesta and Elain’s  relationship in ACOSF was that Elain never tried to meet Nesta half way. It was either Nesta do this is this particular way or nothing at all. Nesta even offered suggestions stating that Elain could have had dinner with her instead but Elain never followed through. Elain isn’t entirely to blame either. Nesta even told Feyre that she loved music but Feyre didn’t believe her. Music could have been a great way for them to get through to Nesta.

I can also understand the betrayal. When Elain was in a catatonic state, she was so removed from life and reality despite Nesta always being there for her. Nesta was the only person who could have shared her trauma but Elain was so focused on what she lost, that she didn’t stop and remember what she had. Rather than turn to Nesta and help each each other, she detached and withdrew into herself. 

When Nesta was detaching into herself and withdrawing, Elain villainizes her for it and gaslights her into feeling like she is overacting. 

2. Nesta not rescuing Elain 

You mean the Nesta who is racked with guilt and still in shock? What you are seeing isn’t someone who doesn’t want their sister to be safe from harm. This is someone who has seen the vast army of fae warriors prepared to fight them all and has lost all hope.

“Nesta sat with her head in her hands inside my tent. She did not speak, did not move. Coiled in on herself, clinging to stay whole”

“Her eyes were red-rimmed, lips thin. “No, you will not.” She pointed to the map on the table. “I saw that army. Its size, who is in it. I saw it, and there is no chance of any of you getting into its heart. Even you,” she added when Cassian opened his mouth again. “Especially not when you’re injured.”

You think Nesta doesn’t want Elain to be safe? That if she could, she would have gone in their place? Keep in mind, Nesta is still a newly turned fae with a human mindset and has no combat experience whatsoever. You really think she would have been much help in a stealth/rescue mission? But yeah...let’s blame Nesta for not doing more 🙄

3. Nesta was controlling and suppressing Elain

Nesta does not control or suppress Elain? Nesta caters to her far too much.

Nesta may not have liked Greyson but she never tried to change or interfere in their relationship. Nesta also stayed back in the human lands because Elain did not want to leave. Elain even gives the IC the story about how Nesta avenged her after her childhood bullies tormented her when they were younger. A great part of why Nesta agreed to help Feyre with the queens despite the danger was because of Elain’s insistence.

In no way does Nesta dictate what Elain says, does, wears or behaves. Elain is capable of her own decisions and has been from the start. Elain is not a child. She has agency and is responsible for her own decisions. 

Truthfully, I never saw Elain deliver even 10% of what Nesta gives to her. 

Anyway, seeing this take made me irritated enough to post this