#i think i made this a little much about myself

[pastabaguette]

sorry for all the posts today, but this one is very important: alternian video game edits.

i actually have reasonings for all of their blood types, and a few classpects, so i'll dive into them here:

monika: i'm thinking that early in the game, during acts 1 and 2, she maybe masqueraded as a jadeblood or higher. only during act 3 does she reveal herself as a fuchsia to the protagonist.

gordon and alyx: gordon is probably a tealblood, or somewhere around there. fairly high, but not too high, i think. alyx is an olive, and eli is an indigo. azian was probably a gold. (or lime?) i did have to keep gordon’s orange HEV suit, though. surely you understand. okay, troll half life lore: i think on alternia, all the main characters in the half life franchise are like, olive or above. the rebels in follow freeman and the guards are all lowbloods, so that the player doesn't feel too bad about sacrificing them, or something like that. i think this would be something that would happen in an alternian video game, at least.

agent 47: 47 is actually a mutant, due to being manufactured in a lab. he's a weird ice-blue color. he's still got that piercing stare. i felt a little sad changing his iconic red tie, but i do have some thoughts on that as well. obviously, red in human culture tends to symbolize passion, among other things, and in this case, violence and aggression, because it's the color of blood. however, because trolls all have different blood colors, i think they might have different meanings attached to colors than humans typically do. i think that typically, the colors that would most commonly represent aggression in alternian culture would be blue (cobalt and indigo) and purple. now, i know that the sea dwellers exist, but since the vast majority of trolls are lowbloods, they would have a lot more contact with the land-dwelling highbloods, rather than the fish. so, 47’s tie is blue. (i also just think it looks cool matching his eyes)

chell: I made chell a bronzeblood. she’s a test subject, but not one of the special ones (astronauts, olympians, etc). she’s just another lab rat. (also, a lot of her outfit is orange…)

now for classpects! i only have two i’m sure of as of now:

gordon freeman is an heir of hope. this one is fairly obvious to me. a common belief is that heirs have the ability to become their aspect, in a way. in half life 2, gordon quickly becomes the main symbol of the resistance on earth. for the rebels, he himself IS hope.

agent 47 is a prince of life. again, it’s a common interpretation that princes are themselves void of their aspect, and they destroy that aspect in others. this is really literal, obviously, but as a hitman, 47 kills people. literally destroying life. as for his own lack of life in himself, it’s pretty simple as well. 47 is almost always described as entirely void of emotion and empathy. others often remark on his soulless stare, a lack of life behind his eyes. so, as a prince, he fulfills both criteria there.

holy hell, that was a lot of words. i didn’t intend to talk this much. feel free to add your own thoughts; i’d like to hear what others think. these descriptions were a bit rushed, and i don’t really consider myself to be very good at communicating my thoughts, so a lot of things may have been lost in translation. i’d be happy to try and elaborate on my reasonings for any of them.

(oh, also, please no alyx spoilers. i haven’t played it yet!)

[paper-mario-wiki]

hey so …question.

i was raised male. biologically female. it’s for very greek hero reasoning, i promise. nothing boring ever happens in my family.

i don’t want to be male. i want to be female. would it be appropriate to call myself a trans woman? it’s something i like using…but i don’t want to appropriate or anything.

hmmm

"trans" is a modifier word, right? that's why it's important to leave a space in "transwoman", because there's no such thing as a entity that is a "transwoman", there is only "a woman that is trans". i consider myself to be a woman. i often say "trans woman", but only because i usually like to describe myself as accurately as possible.

the meaning in the word "trans" is from the relevant change made in one's life. being raised as a boy, i never had anyone teach me to do my makeup, or to put on a dress. during thanksgiving and christmas i was never expected to be in the kitchen with all my sisters and aunts, because that wasn't seen as my responsibility. i don't know how to braid my hair-- i didn't even know how to tie a ponytail for the longest time. all of these things are things i've had to learn as an adult in order for me to start fitting into the social expectations of womanhood. those things are what i'd consider to have been the bulk of the effort in my "transition" so far, and none of them are biological.

if we are going by the bio-essentialist argument (that is to say, the taxonomic origins of the terms "trans man" and "trans woman"), then i'd say "no, you cant use it, because you are biologically female". but then, what's the point of being supportive of trans people if we're still capitulating to the standards of qualification the people oppressing us set?

can i use this reasoning to tell you empirically "yeah you can use this term"? i dont think so, but that's just because of how damn specific your situation is. i have very little knowledge about your actual life, so i dont know how much of a transition you'll have to make to start feeling comfortable as a woman. but hopefully this'll at least give you some perspective on figuring it out for yourself.

[lovelookspretty]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: a really long chapter part thing i fear . kisses .. maybe .. IM NOT SPOILING THIS

prev next

authors note: erm guys .. if im rushing this then do NOT pay attention !! I WANT THEM TO BE OKAY AGAIN JUST LIKE U GUYS I FEAR. I CANT HELP MYSELF. but do NOT think this is the end because this is NOT!! we still have to get through the rest of the second week + the wedding. and if u think about it, DAMN a lot happened in week 1 omg goodnight

anyway, if u still arent part of the tag list, feel free to let me know thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3333

you keep your distance from him the next two days. you know you have to face him, and sometimes you do, but you’re stiffer than before. he knows better than anyone to maintain that gap until you’re okay again.

it just feels like your breakup with him all over again, but this time, for a different reason other than having too much time apart. this time, you’re all he spends time with but there just happens to be something getting in the way of that. another girl. it isn’t fair.

drew’s been trying to show in little ways that he’s sorry, but it doesn’t cut it for you. not yet. and you don’t want to lead him by a string and take advantage of him caring about you. but him bringing you breakfast, then trying to avoid you throughout the day until you’re back in libby’s bed again—it’s just frustrating.

you don’t even want to be there anymore. you don’t want to have to deal with this. but it’s for leila and theo, their day is coming up soon. you just want them to have a good time and then you can all separate ways and live your own lives again. how it’s always been and how it should be.

the guys are getting ready to visit town while the girls stay back. this isn’t for you though, and you’re grateful. gia proposed a self-care day after a package was shipped to the home, a large box of cookies, and safe to say you all agreed to the plan.

“i’ve been trying to get back into reading but i feel like i have no time sometimes,” leila’s telling you and the girls as you set up shop at the kitchen island.

there’s an array of face masks, moisturizers, rollers, oils, creams, other things they’ve wanted to try. gia even brings her diffuser and places it nearby as the tv in the living room plays.

“i recommend ‘doomsday’!” libby perks up from across the table. “i read it last summer and let me tell you, i bawled crying for a month straight.”

“y/n, you read,” leila says as she files her nails, crossing a leg over another. “what are your recommendations?”

“hey,” theo greets leila as he and the boys join you four at the table, each with their respective girlfriend besides libby and oscar, and technically you and drew. he hovers behind you but just merely nods his head to say hello. “we’re gonna head out.”

“oh, okay,” leila says with a small frown, but kisses him goodbye. “drive safe, alright?” you’re winking at roman who points at you to say to behave, but he kisses gia’s cheek before he’s following theo out.

you answer leila from earlier with a shrug, “i’ve been wanting to find ‘the last love letter’ but i haven’t really been reading lately. been too busy.”

gia mouth gapes open as she slams her hand on the table, nearly knocking something over. “shut up, i’ve been wanting to read that too!” she shrieks as libby tells her to be more careful.

you can only giggle at her while she gets off her seat and comes up behind you to pull your hair and tie it back.

“that book is literally nowhere, i swear the author only made like five copies of it.”

“have you guys read ‘self sabotage’?” leila asks as she and libby, already prepared, begin to place their face masks on.

you’re on the couch with the girls as libby records you on her phone. the box of cookies are opened and after careful review, you’ve all decided what to try first and what comes after that, and so on.

“now?” you ask libby if she’s ready, and she nods. you, leila, and gia take a cautious bite out of the pieces you’ve broken off of the first cookie. it only takes you a few chews in to realize how heavenly it is. gia even pretends to faint beside you.

“holy shit,” leila says as she covers her mouth, taking a look at the cookie with wide eyes. “are you serious?”

libby lunges at you with her phone to take it from her, “well now i wanna try it!”

you’re in a fit of laughter as you try to turn the camera around before she can sink her teeth in, but she’s too fast. your eyes widen at the girl, “libby, slow down!”

and eventually, you’re full of cookies and half of them are still yet to be tried. you agree with the girls to continue this matter tomorrow if the boys don’t eat it all themselves, and you know they will. you’re just glad you’ve already tried all the ones you really wanted to before then.

when the guys get home, it’s exactly what you anticipated. they bee line directly to the cookies on the coffee table, but not without greeting you all first.

theo groans as he takes a bite, roman right beside him to stuff a whole chunk in his mouth. “this is better than sex,” he murmurs while roman snaps his fingers several times. leila can’t help but nod in agreement.

“i feel cookie-drunk,” you say with your hand on your stomach, and gia curls up into your side as she holds onto hers. “what’d you guys get?”

roman is quick to reach into his bag and pull out a couple of keychains, as if he just got reminded about something. he tosses one at gia’s head, and you look over to see what it is.

“the world’s okayest girlfriend,” she reads aloud, and she chucks it back at him, no longer accepting the gift that roman laughs about. she gets up to see what else is in his bag, leaving drew to plop down next to you and libby, who’s on the other side of you this whole time.

she’s cleaning the ice cream off her spoon when she speaks up for you and her, “what’d you get?”

“few things,” he says as he lets you look inside for yourself.

you pull out a long box and open it. it’s a chain bracelet, sterling silver. it’s nice, and you nod with raised brows. there’s other things inside that you only glance at, but when you look up at him you notice the new pair of sunglasses that’s resting on his head.

you pull it off of him silently and place it on yourself, unspokenly thanking him for the temporary gift you’ll give back later but you like them so now they’re yours for a few hours.

drew purses his lips and closes his bag, assuming you’re done, so he gets up and starts heading upstairs. you look over at libby. without hesitation, she asks, “you okay?”

you hesitate, and you know she’s only asking this because this is one of drew’s brief interactions with you since a few days ago. but you shrug it off, “yeah, i’m okay,” you say.

libby doesn’t miss a beat, she’s not convinced at all. she knows you well enough to understand what ‘im okay’ really means is ‘i’ll be okay’. that it’s not okay, but it will be eventually.

she’s seen this look on you before, during the hardest parts of your relationship with drew. she can feel the unspoken words between them, the ones you don’t even need to say out loud.

“right,” libby says with a soft sigh. she wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug. “you’ll be alright,” she whispers. you know she won’t pry further, but knowing that whatever drew did, it was enough to hurt you again.

after a few moments, she pulls back and, with a small smile, asks, “wanna help me with dinner soon? leila thought it’d be nice to eat out in the backyard tonight, by the pool.”

you hum softly, nodding your head, “yeah, that sounds good.”

libby grins, “awesome. ‘cause it’s pizza night and i cannot do it alone.”

the next few hours blur together. you’ve successfully prepared the pizzas with libby and slid them into the oven. now you’re cutting into them and displaying them outside on the table.

it used to be bare, but someone since morning has gone out there to help decorate the backyard to make it just a little flashier. there’s a cloth on the table, which is scattered with candles, flowers, dishes, platters of cookies, fruits, a charcuterie board, and there’s a helpful variety of drinks.

fairy lights blink across the backyard, even over the pool, and it illuminates the whole place. you place the different pizzas in between each candle piece, which libby lights as you do. when you call everyone outside, you join together at the table.

and once theo leads you once again with the ‘i’m grateful for my future wife’ shit, you get to dig in. you’re pretty sure it was longer this time around and even roman started to just eat until he was kicked under the table by drew.

“fucking finally,” libby murmurs under her breath after theo concludes his speech, to which causes him to pick up an olive off the plate and toss it at her. “yeah, you’re so lucky i like olives,” she whispers to herself as she rearranges her napkin, “fucking loser.”

“libby,” you scold, though you can’t hide your laugh. she’s grinning when she looks up, silently laughing with you.

when you turn to drew on the other side of you, he’s taking large bites from his slice. he tilts his head back with a groan, then takes a longer look at the pizza as he chews.

“s’it good?” you ask, and he nods rapidly, and soon his body moves with it. you bring yourself to smile, grateful that people you care about like what you’ve cooked.

you reach over to take your own slice from each pizza and just stack it on your plate, planning on going through them one by one from the one on too being the one you least want to eat, and the last at the bottom being the one you’re most excited for—a ‘save the best for last’ type of thing. it’s silly but you do it anyway.

drew’s finishing up his bite when he leans into you gently. “i have to talk to you later, by the way,” he says, and it sort of startles you because at this point you’re just talking to libby.

you look at him with furrowed brows, but again, you’re not mad. you’re not upset with him. at least not in this moment, you can’t be.

and it looks like he’s grateful because he can see it too. “if that’s alright with you,” he says, then takes another bite. you just nod at him in silence, and watch as he turns back to oscar who’s on his other side before talking to him.

you look straight ahead where roman’s sitting, and he sends you a look. he heard drew talking to you, he knows it must be about something important, but it’s not what’s on your mind right now.

you shrug it off. “—tell you later,” you mouth to him, then turn to libby when you realize she’s talking to you again.

after dinner, gia and leila clean dishes while literally all of the guys clean up outside as a thank you to you and libby, who lay across the living room with bellies filled with food.

there’s a movie playing on tv that you can barely pay attention to, but you’ve been laying there for about an hour so if you really want to, you could. you just play into the laziness that you’re allowed.

you hold your phone above you as libby rolls around the carpet, or at least that’s what you last saw her doing before you looked away. you’re scrolling through texts with your manager as if a new message will come in.

“did elyse get back to you?” libby asks, a face-full of carpet and it sounds like she’s just a few feet away. “about the thing.”

“no,” you mumble, then turn your phone off and set it face-down on the carpet, just like libby. the side of your head is laying on your arm as you look at her. “i could go for another cookie.”

“you ate three!” libby’s muffled voice raises.

“and i’ll make it four,” you tell her, raising your volume back. you consider getting up but don’t feel like it. you can actually lay here forever—maybe.

“y/n,” you hear his voice. it’s drew.

and you get up immediately. he was so softspoken, so cautious with you. he’s entering the house with the other boys who must’ve finished outside, meaning it’s time to have his talk. you almost ask if you guys can just have it there if it’s not that important, but if that’s possible then he wouldn’t be trying to get you alone.

you look over to libby, who—at the sound of drew’s voice—peeked her eyes out to see what he wanted. she looks to you, and she understands why you have to go. she convinces herself to get up and find the remote so she can turn the volume up.

you know it’s for you and drew, and a part of you wants to nudge her or be offended, and you do. is this going to be normal behavior in the house? turning up the volume just for you and drew when you guys need to have these ‘talks’ that are just screaming practice in disguise?

you’re almost embarrassed but you know that you’d rather have this than let them hear you two upstairs.

you follow him to your room, or technically his room as of three nights ago, and he lets you inside first. there’s a chilling feeling when you realize what’s about to happen and you feel like he’s literally about to murder you.

the room is clean, for the most part. you didn’t doubt for a second that he wouldn’t take care of this room regardless if you’re in it or not. his bed isn’t made and his backpack’s on the edge of it, opened and rifled through.

you look to him when you’ve entered, and he nods toward the bed, as if to say he would rather you sit there while you listen to what he has to say, so slowly, you make your way over and settle down on the edge.

drew pulls out a chair from the desk across the bed and turns it around, pushing it closer to you. you’re surprised that he’s doing a whole setup just to talk to you. maybe he really is going to kill you.

“i haven’t been honest at all . . . since we started talking again,” he begins as he sits down in front of you. you stay there and close your mouth. you want to hear what he has to say, even if it ends terribly. you need to hear what he’s been thinking. “so i’d like to tell you everything about this past year if you’re okay with that.”

you shrug and gesture to let him have the floor. “please,” you insist with a nod.

he sighs as he fiddles with his fingers in his lap. “there’s . . . mila," he starts, and even though you knew this conversation was coming, it still stings when you hear her name.

“i guess you could call it a situationship or whatever,” he says before he catches himself, realizing how that sounds. “i mean, to me, it felt like that. but i think—” he pauses, chewing on his words. “no, she definitely saw it as more. she always viewed it as a relationship.” he glances at you, watching for your reaction, but you just sit there, waiting.

he rubs a hand over his face, frustrated with himself. “we just weren’t on the same page. i was . . . i was using it to distract myself, if i’m being honest. and i know that’s not fair. i knew it even then. but it felt easier than than facing what i was actually feeling at the time.”

he continues, “i told myself it was nothing, but i knew, deep down, it wasn’t fair to her. she didn’t deserve to be strung along like that.”

you feel your chest tighten, but not from jealousy. it’s you knowing that someone else had been hurt in this too, someone who had clearly thought there was more between them. “does she know? about this?” you ask him.

he flinches slightly, as if the concern you’re showing for mila makes this even harder to explain for him. he hesitates, “i officially ended things with her three nights ago. the night you confronted me about her. i told her it was over, that i couldn’t keep pretending things were fine when they weren’t. she didn’t take it well. and honestly, i don’t blame her.”

you’re quiet for a moment—so he’s decided to keep you and him a secret from mila? to spare both his and her feelings? you aren’t sure if you should bring light to it or just push it aside. you did say before that it was ultimately his decision.

“i’m glad you told her,” you say carefully, but there's a pause before you add, "but i can’t imagine how confusing this must be for her.” you shift in your seat, rubbing your palms on your knees. “i mean, from her perspective, this whole thing must feel like it came out of nowhere.”

he swallows hard, nodding. “yeah, it wasn’t fair to her. not at all.”

there’s a beat. he looks at you, his expression more vulnerable than you’ve seen in a long time. “i told her about you,” he says. he’s quiet, as if he’s afraid of the confession. “i told her that i’m . . . that i’m still not over you. that i don’t think i ever really was.”

what?

you blink, startled by his words, though in a way, you’re not entirely surprised. you’ve felt the tension between you two from the moment you started talking again, but hearing him admit it, finally saying it out loud . . .

his voice is rough, like he’s forcing himself to continue. “but that’s why things with mila were never real. not for me, at least. i kept telling myself i could move on, that i could just forget, but every day i’d realize i wasn’t. i couldn’t let go of you.”

“but you broke up with me, drew,” you remind him. “that doesn’t necessarily sound like you’re in love with me.”

“i didn’t break up with you because i didn’t love you,” he says, his brows furrowed. “i do, more than i’ve ever loved anyone else.” his eyes meet yours briefly before dropping to his hands, which he’s fiddling with in his lap. “like, it was the opposite. i felt like i wasn’t enough for you. like i was failing you.”

you feel your breath hitch in your throat, but you don’t interrupt. you sit up on the bed.

he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he speaks. “our jobs, the schedules, the distance . . . it was tearing us apart, you know? and every day, i’d think about how i wasn’t giving you what you deserved. we were supposed to click, supposed to last, but i felt like i was just holding you back.” his voice is quiet, and he rubs his forehead slowly. “and i couldn’t stand the thought of you waiting for me when i could never give you the time you needed. it was eating me alive.”

you stay quiet, but tears prick at the corners of your eyes. his words hit hard, and you feel like everything that was left unsaid was finally coming to light now—there were arguments that could’ve been avoided, the misunderstandings that built up. he was overthinking, spiraling, and instead of talking to you, he made the decision for both of you.

“and i just kept thinking, like . . . ‘she deserves someone who can be there for her, really be there. someone who can come home to her every night’. i wasn’t that guy. i’d go days without seeing you, weeks even, and it broke me.” he swallows hard again, shaking his head. “i convinced myself that you’d be happier with someone else. someone who wasn’t always on some stupid set, always busy.”

your heart aches as you watch him, his guilt written all over his face. you lean forward and whisper, “but you don’t get to decide that for me, drew. we make decisions together. or at least, that’s how it’s supposed to work.”

“i know,” he mutters, his tone regretful. “i know that now. but back then, i thought i was doing the right thing. i thought i was . . . protecting you, i guess. from me.”

you shake your head, wiping at the tears that are now falling freely. “protecting me from you? drew, i never, ever wanted anyone else. i wanted you. i didn’t care about the schedules, or the distance. i would’ve waited, and we could’ve figured it out. together.”

his eyes finally meet yours again, and for the first time, you can see the depth of his regret. “when we broke up, i tried. god, i tried to move on. i tried to find something, you know? but i was always looking for you.” he takes a shaky breath. “every girl i met, i’d compare them to you. i’d look for pieces of you in them, trying to find something familiar, something that felt right. but it never worked.”

you knew he had tried to move on, but hearing that he was always searching for you in others, that no one ever compared. it leaves you speechless for a moment. if that’s what happened, then why invest so much time into mila?

you finally gather the courage to ask, “mila. did she . . . was she like me?” your voice is soft, almost hesitant, but you need to know.

“no,” he admits, shaking his head. “not really. mila was cool, and she’s . . . she’s great in her own way. but no. she wasn’t like you.” he pauses, as if trying to find the right words. "but i remember i wanted her to be."

he didn’t try to replace you with mila, but it was clear that he had been searching for something, anything, to fill the void you left behind. and it never worked.

“no one’s ever going to compare to you, y/n,” he continues, “i realize that now. it took me a while, but i’ll always search for you in everyone, and it’s never going to be the same. it’ll never feel the way it felt with you."

for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re finally getting the truth. the real, unfiltered truth about why things ended the way they did. he wasn’t running because he didn’t care. he was running because he thought he wasn’t enough for you. and now, he’s sitting here, telling you everything he couldn’t say before.

“i’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper now, on the verge of crying. “i’m sorry for walking away. for not talking to you about it when i should’ve. i was scared. scared that i wasn’t enough for you, and scared that i never would be.”

you can feel the tears still lingering in your eyes, but there’s also a strange sense of closure. you’ve needed to hear this for so long, to understand why things fell apart the way they did. and now, you finally do.

“i messed up,” he says, “i messed up everything, and i know it. but i never stopped loving you and i’m . . . i’m still in love with you.”

you stay silent, blinking away the burn in your eyes, trying to absorb what he’s saying. part of you feels relief, but another part of you is cautious. you’ve been hurt before like this. by another and by him.

he watches you closely, and it feels like the longer the silence is, the more anxious he gets. “i know this doesn’t fix anything, and i’m not asking you to forgive me or take me back. i just needed to tell you the truth. i needed you to know that mila . . . ? mila was never you. no one is.”

the room feels too small suddenly, too full of emotions that you don’t know what to do with. you take a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts, but all you can manage to say is, “why now, drew? why are you telling me this now?”

his gaze softens, “because i didn’t want to lose you again. not without you knowing the truth.”

you can only look down at your lap. your vision blurs as you try to focus on your fingers, interlocked and tense in your lap, the pressure in your chest is tightening by the second.

you don’t trust yourself to speak just yet, so you hold everything in, to find the right words, but nothing comes out.

when you finally lift your head to look at him, the tears are already pooling in your eyes. you blink rapidly, trying to keep them from spilling over, but it’s useless. without saying anything, he stands up and pulls you into him, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame.

you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding as your face presses into his chest, and it’s like the dam inside you finally breaks. the tears fall freely now, your body shaking as you cling to him, feeling the warmth of his arms around you—something you’ve missed so desperately.

and it’s not just about the last few days. it’s about the past year of missing him, of pretending you were okay when you weren’t. and you can tell drew needed this too. you can feel it in the way his grip tightens, like he’s afraid to let go, like he’s trying to hold together everything that’s broken between you both.

you stay like that for a long time, the sound of your quiet sobs muffled by his chest, his hand slowly rubbing up and down your back as if to soothe the ache inside you. it’s a comfort you haven’t felt in so long, and it is exactly what you’ve needed.

toward the end of it, your face still pressed against his chest, you mumble something, your words half muffled by the fabric of his shirt. he loosens his hold just a little, enough for you to pull back slightly, just enough to breathe. “i . . .” you take a shaky breath, your hands still gripping his arms, and when you finally meet his eyes again, you whisper, “i never stopped loving you either.”

the words hang between you, raw and honest, and as soon as you say them, you see the way his expression softens, like it’s the only thing he’s been waiting to hear.

his lips crash into yours, urgent and insistent. his fingers tighten against the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as if he can’t get enough. his lips coax yours open, deepening the kiss, and he swallows the whimper that escapes you.

his other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into his lap as he sits back on the bed. he kisses you like he's been starved of you, his tongue swirling against yours, his hands exploring every inch of your face, your neck, your hair. this is what he’s been waiting to do.

his hands trail down to your hips, pulling you flush against him, and he breaks the kiss, only to trail his lips along your jaw, down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “stay with me tonight?”

you can’t get enough of him, and although you know that everything can’t be completely fixed over just one conversation, sleeping and waking up in the same bed as him isn’t hurting anyone.

you nod, a soft smile on your face that causes him to grin. but he pulls away slowly hesitating for a moment, his smile growing a little wider as he reaches past you into his backpack, his fingers rummaging around as if he’s searching for something precious.

you watch him, curiosity bubbling inside you. what could he possibly have?

“hold on,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and filled with warmth, and you smile as you press another kiss to his.

finally, he pulls out a book, holding it out toward you with a look of pure joy on his face. you take a look at it but almost don’t even catch it the first time until a second later. your heart skips a beat as you recognize it—the last love letter.

“shut up,” you say, taking it into your own hands to see if it’s real. and of course it is.

he nods, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “i heard you talking about it with the girls before we left earlier,” he explains, but he knows you can tell already that much. there’s a goofy look on his face as he wipes underneath one of his eyes. “i knew how much you wanted it and i saw a copy in town, so . . .”

“no, shut up. i can’t take this,” you exclaim, feeling tears welling in your eyes. “star.” the words spill out, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming gratitude. it’s not just the gift; it’s the thought behind it that strikes a chord deep within you. you trace the cover with your fingertips as if it’s a treasured artifact.

he watches you intently. “i wanted to,” he assures you. “i heard it, i thought it would mean something to you.”

your gaze shifts from the book to him. “thank you, it does,” you whisper, your voice shaking as you blink out a few more tears.

you set the book aside momentarily, throwing your arms around him once again. the embrace feels like a lifeline. you hold him tightly, your heart racing as you bury your face against his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent.

he wraps his arms around you, holding you just as tightly, as if he’s afraid to let go. the world outside fades away, and in this moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms, a bubble of intimacy where everything feels right again.

after a long pause, as you pull back slightly to meet his gaze, you can see the softness in his eyes. “you really didn’t have to do this,” you say again, looking down at the brand new book. “but it means the world to me that you did.”

he grins, “i know it’s just a book, but i wanted to show you that i’m here—like, really here this time.” and you are so glad he is.

“i missed this,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

he closes his eyes for a moment, and you continue to explore the pages of the book, though your thoughts keep drifting back to him. aw you run your fingers through his hair, it dawns on you how much you've missed this—this connection, this easy banter, the comfort of being together.

“i missed us,” you finally admit, looking into his eyes, and in that moment, everything feels right again. it all floods back to you.

he shifts slightly, leaning in closer, and his arms slide to wrap around your waist as he lays his head on your shoulder to take a look at your book with you, his voice in relief as he mumbles, “me too.”

and you’re happy, it all just feels like your dream again.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @icaqttt @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @cl4uus @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey @ilyrafe @sunny1616 @pillowprincess4him @yootvi @matthewswifeeee @uwuemlwlrld @l4venderia @chenslucy @darkreymbow @congratsloserr @skyslowalking @behindviolettwrites @allthoughtsmindfull @lovelylupin04 @ecstqzy @dasguccier

[thinkinginpen]

Just A Guy With Claws And A Bad Attitude

a/n: Second fic in the same 24 hours? I honestly impress myself. Visual inspo by @malavera (Love you pooks 🤗) pairing: logan x reader w/c: 4.4k warnings: age gap, smut, p in v, loss of virginity, love, kissing, romance, dirty talk, etc. summary: You and Logan are on a mission in France and decide to take a break at the hotel, eating pizza, and watching a movie when things get out of hand

You and Logan were in France, on a mission that demanded much of you. A grumpy old mutant, Logan was perpetually cranky, but you had your jobs. The two of you were to keep watch for a looming invasion, the kind to threaten mutants. Your duty: Sound the alarm.

The air felt oppressive as you two worked silently, the impending danger a constant, lurking presence. Every so often, you'd steal a glance at Logan, his grumpy face fixed in a perpetual scowl as he scanned the surroundings.

The silence was eventually broken as Logan's voice cut through the air, gruff and tinged with sarcasm. "At this rate, we'll die of boredom before the invasion even gets here," he grumbled.

You gave a small, sympathetic smile at Logan's comment, understanding his frustration but maintaining a gentle attitude.

"Patience, Logan," you replied, your voice soft and kind. "We're doing our best to keep an eye out. I'm sure we'll spot them in no time."

Logan's scowl softened a bit at your response. He grunted in acknowledgement, but the usual edge was missing from his voice when he spoke again.

"Easy for you to say," he murmured gruffly. "You're not the one stuck here without any booze to pass the time."

You chuckled lightly at Logan's remark, amused by his ever-present desire for alcohol. "A little boredom won't kill you, Logan," you said, still speaking gently. "How about we just enjoy the peace and quiet while we can?"

Logan grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "easy for you to say" again, but he didn't argue further. The two of you continued your watch in companionable silence, the tension in the air slightly alleviated by your calming presence.

"I meant back at the hotel silly! We could do our own thing, maybe order some food and watch a movie?"

Logan blinked at your suggestion, a look of surprise crossing his gruff features. The idea of a change of pace clearly intrigued him, but he tried to cover it up with his usual grouchiness.

"Food and a movie, huh? Sounds like you're trying to spoil me," he mumbled, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You couldn't help but smile at his response, seeing past his gruff exterior to the man beneath. "Just trying to keep things interesting," you replied, your tone still soft and kind. "Think of it as a little break before the invasion starts. Besides, you need a proper meal in you anyway."

Logan grumbled again, but it was more for show at this point. He knew you had a point regarding the food - even his enhanced healing factor couldn't run on an empty stomach. Plus, the idea of a break was growing on him.

"Alright, fine," he relented, feigning grumpiness. "But I get to pick the movie."

"I don't mind at all," you responded, a faint smile on your lips.

Together, you and Logan finished up your watch and made your way back to the hotel. Once back in the safety of the hotel room, Logan immediately went to the mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. He took a long swig before turning to you.

"How're you likin' being an X-Man?" He asked as he scrolled through movies.

You chuckled and took a seat on the bed, looking at Logan with a warm smile. "It's been quite the adventure," you responded. "I don't regret it one bit. Helping people is all that matters to me."

Logan hummed, selecting a movie from the list. "That's the difference between you and me, kid," he muttered, his tone more thoughtful than grumpy now. "You've still got that fire, that desire to do good. I've seen too much crap to be that idealistic."

"What's for dinner?" He asks, setting the remote down as he sits in a chair nearby the bed. Meanwhile you were sitting on the fresh white sheets.

"We can order something from room service," you suggested, reaching for the menu on the bedside table. "They've got a decent selection - pizza, burgers, pasta…"

"Pizza sounds good," Logan replied, taking another swig from his beer as he watches you flip through the menu. "Extra-large, load it up with toppings."

"And make sure they throw in some of those garlic knots," he adds with a slight smirk. "Order me a drink too, would ya?"

You chuckled softly and nodded. "Extra-large, fully loaded pizza and garlic knots coming right up. And I'll get you another beer, just for good measure," you said, pulling out your phone to order the food.

Once the order was placed, you set your phone aside and settled back against the pillows, looking at Logan who was still in his chair beside the bed. The room was quiet for a moment, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioning.

"You know, Logan," you said softly. "You may not be idealistic anymore, but you still care about doing the right thing. You just have a different way of showing it."

Logan huffed, his usual grumpy expression covering his face again, but you could see the hint of a vulnerable look in his eyes.

"Don't go gettin' all philosophical on me," he grumbled, but his voice lacked the usual bite. "I just do what I do, that's all. It ain't that deep."

You smiled softly and shook your head. "It may not seem like it to you, but a lot of us look up to you, you know? Your experience, your strength, the way you never back down from a fight… It's impressive," you said sincerely.

Logan looked at you for a long moment, his usual grumpy expression faltering slightly under the sincere compliment.

"Don't go putting me on some kind of pedestal," he grumbled, his voice gruff. "I'm just a guy with claws and a bad attitude."

A few minutes later, there is a knock on the hotel room door. Logan gets up to open it and you can already smell the scent of pizza and garlic knots wafting in from outside.

"Damn, that was quick," Logan mutters as he grabs the food from the delivery guy and closes the door again, making his way back inside with the goods.

"They definitely didn't skimp on the toppings," you note as Logan sets the boxes of pizza on the table. The pizza is piled high with all kinds of delicious ingredients, and the garlic knots look mouth-wateringly good.

"Looks like they even threw in some extra garlic sauce," Logan says, eyeing the knots hungrily. "Let's dig in."

You get up from the bed and step over to where Logan is sitting. You grab a plate and begin carefully placing slices of pizza onto it, the cheese stretching like melted strings.

As you finish, you smile softly and walk over to Logan, presenting the plate to him with a cold beer by it's side. "Here you go," you say softly. "All loaded up just the way you like."

Logan looks up at you, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He wasn't used to being treated like this, and it made him uncomfortable in a way that was new to him.

"Thanks," he gruffly mutters, taking the plate and the drink from you. He tries to cover up the vulnerability with a gruff demeanor as he takes a bite of the pizza, the flavors instantly hitting his tongue.

You step back and grab a slice for yourself, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as you begin to eat. The pizza is hot and cheesy, the toppings blending together nicely, and the garlic knots are as delicious as they looked.

The room is silent for a moment, filled only with the sounds of you two eating. But it's a comfortable silence, the tension lessened by the distraction of good food.

Once the initial hunger is satisfied, Logan sets his plate aside and grabs the remote, switching on the television. He starts scrolling through movies, looking for one they can watch together.

"I suppose you want something lighthearted, right?" He asks, raising a brow as he continues searching through the selections. "Can't stomach any violence or something?"

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "I can handle a little violence, Logan," you assure him. "Just nothing too depressing, alright?"

"Fair enough," Logan mutters, still scrolling through the options. He seems to find one that meets the criteria and stops scrolling.

"How about this one?" He asks, showing you the screen. It's an older comedy movie, something light and fun.

You nod in approval, recognizing the movie as a classic. "That one works for me," you say with a smile.

Logan nods and clicks on the movie, starting it up. He sits back in his chair as the opening scene begins to play, his body relaxing slightly as he sipped his beer.

You get comfortable on the bed, your back propped up against the headboard as you watch the movie. The comedy helps lighten the mood in the room, occasionally drawing soft laughs from you and even a few gruff chuckles from Logan.

During a quieter moment in the movie, Logan reaches for his beer and takes a long swig. He glances over at you and notices you're watching him with slight envy.

He smirks, his voice gruff as he speaks. "Don't even think about it, kid. You're not 21 yet."

You pout slightly, realizing you've been caught. "Oh, come on, Logan," you protest. "Just one sip. I'm not gonna get drunk or anything, I promise."

Logan's gruff chuckle fills the room as he shakes his head. "Nice try, kid, but the answer's still no. I'm not gonna be the one who gets you drunk underage." He takes another swig of beer, a smirk still on his face as he continues watching the movie.

You cross your arms and pout slightly, clearly unsatisfied with Logan's answer. "I may not be 21, but I'm an adult," you argue. "I'm allowed to make my own decisions, even if I'm not old enough to drink legally yet."

Logan rolls his eyes and takes another sip from his beer. "You're old enough to be an X-Man, not a barfly. Trust me, you'll be better off waiting a few more years before you start drinking."

Logan glances at you out of the corner of his eye, his smirk growing. "Oh, you're an adult now, huh?" He teases, his gruff voice tinged with amusement. "Just because you can make your own decisions doesn't mean they're all smart decisions, kid."

You huff, still not happy about being denied alcohol. "I'm old enough to fight in wars and risk my life for the world, but I can't have a little sip of beer?" You complain.

"Hey, I don't make the laws, kid," Logan replies with a shrug. He takes another swig of his beer, knowing full well how much it is irritating you.

As the movie continues to play in the background, you continue to pester Logan about the alcohol. But with each sip he takes, he becomes more relaxed and more willing to give in to your persistence.

Finally, he looks over at you with a grin, his eyes a little hazy from the alcohol. He motions for you to come closer, patting his lap. "C'mere," he slurs slightly.

You hesitantly get up from the bed and make your way over to Logan's chair, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension in your eyes. As you get closer, he grabs your wrist and pulls you onto his lap, his movements slightly shaky from the liquor.

He looks up at you, his gaze intense and slightly unfocused. "You want a taste, huh?" He murmurs, his voice a low rumble in his chest. He lifts the beer bottle to his mouth and takes a long swig, then pulls you closer.

Without warning, he captures your lips in a kiss, the taste of beer strong on his tongue as he lets the alcohol pass from his mouth to yours.

The kiss is intense and possessive, his hand gripping your wrist tightly to keep you close.

The taste of beer and Logan's tongue mingling together is almost overpowering, and your head begins to spin from the unexpected intensity. Your hands instinctively grip the fabric of his shirt, trying to keep yourself steady as the kiss deepens.

After a long, dizzying moment, Logan finally breaks the kiss, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. He looks at you with hazy, almost feral eyes, his grip on your wrist still tight.

"Damn, bub," he mutters gruffly. "You really need to be fixed, y'know that?"

You look at him, your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps, your world still spinning from the kiss. "What… what do you mean?" You manage to pant out, your voice shaky from the mix of alcohol and adrenaline.

"You," Logan grumbles, his grip on your wrist loosening slightly. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that? A beautiful, stubborn little pain in the ass."

He looks up at you, his eyes roaming over your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and slightly dazed expression.

"Can't just let things be, can't just relax and enjoy the moment," he continues, his voice gruff and slurring slightly more with each word. "You always gotta push, gotta test the limits, gotta get what you want."

You manage to find your voice again, your words coming out in a soft, slightly shaky whisper.

"N-no, Logan," you reply, your eyes wide and fixed on his face. "I just…just wanted a taste. I didn't expect all this…"

Logan smirks, his hand moving up to cup your chin, his touch surprisingly gentle despite his earlier gruffness.

"Oh, don't worry darlin'. I can be a pain in your ass tomorrow morning when you wake up, and the morning after that, and the morning after that," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with alcohol and desire.

His eyes roam over your face again, taking in your flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips. "If that's what you want, anyway," he adds, a hint of teasing in his tone.

"Might be a little sore, though," he continues, his smirk widening into a grin. "You up for a little soreness in the morning?"

You swallow hard, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach at the implications of his words. "Y-yeah," you manage to stammer out, your voice cracking slightly. "I…I can handle a little soreness in the morning."

Logan's grin widens even more, his eyes darkening with lust. "That's what I like to hear," he says huskily. "A little pain, a lot of pleasure. That's what you want, ain't it?"

"Yeah," you whisper, your voice shaky as you meet his gaze. "Yeah, that's what I want."

"Good," he smiled reaching for your blouse and taking it off of you.

His fingers hastily worked through his buttoned down shirt before exposing his bare chest to the cold air of the room.

You placed a hand on his thick veiny arm. "Logan..?"

He immediately stopped, sensing you having second thoughts. "Yeah bubba?"

"I-" You paused, "Do you think I'm too young? Maybe I should find someone my own age?"

He chuckled and shook his head, "Like who? A silly school boy? Fuck no, baby. Silly school boys can't do what I can."

"Logan I'm just saying-" He hushed you with a finger.

"Hush baby girl, the answer is no."

With that he closed the windows.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips gently. Of course, he deepened it being as gruff and experienced as he was. But you were young and had no clue how to act. You let him guide you into a bliss.

Your hands moved to his shoulders as your nails dug into his skin.

"Good girl," he muttered against your lips. "A young man can't make you feel like this princess. I can smell your arousal."

He nipped at your lips as he continued working his fingers on your pants. You felt amazing, perched on his lap, kissing this big strong man who could take care of you, as he unclothed you.

With a swift and skillful tug, your pants were suddenly on the floor, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable on his lap. His hands roamed over your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine.

Logan's breath was hot on your neck as he murmured, "So damn beautiful. Young and sweet… and all mine, princess."

You shivered as his calloused hands traced over your curves, his fingers leaving a trail of sparks in their wake. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, your own hands gripping onto his biceps for support.

"Logan," you whispered, your voice already shaky. "I…"

"Shh," he hushed you, his lips finding their way to your neck. "Don't think about anything but this, baby girl. Just feel."

You gave into the moment, lost in the heady haze of arousal and desire. You surrendered to his touch, his kiss, letting the intensity of the moment wash over you.

His lips were firm and dominating on yours, his tongue delving into your mouth with a hungry possessiveness that left you breathless. His hands roamed over your body, large and calloused against your smooth skin, each touch sending waves of sensation through you.

This was wrong. You knew it was wrong. Yet it felt so right. You were being taken, claimed, by this older, rougher man, and you couldn't help but surrender

The taste of him, the musk of his skin, the scrape of his stubble against your chin as his kiss continued to deepen – all of it was driving you crazy. You could feel yourself getting lost in him, your body responding to his touch like it had a mind of its own.

His fingers traced patterns on your skin, drawing paths of fire across your body. You were on fire, burning for him, consumed by the passion that was building between you.

You could feel the desire building, the heat between your legs growing stronger with every second. He seemed to know exactly what you needed, his hands and lips working some kind of magic on you, bringing you into a fever pitch of need.

You could feel the roughness of his jeans against your bare thighs, a reminder of the difference between the two of you – a young thing, untried and inexperienced, and a man, older and world weary, with enough knowledge to drive you wild.

His hands moved to your hips, shifting you so you were straddling him, your bodies pressed as close as humanly possible. His mouth moved to your neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses downwards, his breath hot against your skin.

You whimpered softly as he nipped at your collarbone, the sensation sending another wave of desire through you. Your hands were tangled in his hair, your fingers gripping it tightly, holding him closer, as if you couldn't stand the thought of him moving even an inch away from you.

His kiss was dominant, his touch possessive, but there was a tenderness there, a care that you hadn't expected. It was as if he was taking care of you, claiming you, but also making sure not to hurt you too much.

The thought only made you more aroused, more desperate for him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his, aching for more. You could feel his hardness against you, a silent promise of the pleasure that was to come.

Finally, he pulls back from the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looks down at you. A wolfish grin is plastered on his face.

"Damn, darlin'," he mutters, his voice gruff and raspy. "You're a feisty little thing, ain't ya?"

He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, his grin widening as he takes in your flushed and disheveled appearance. "Look at ya," he murmurs, his eyes roaming over your body. "All messy and needy, just from a little kissin'."

He cups your chin in his hand, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "You like that, princess?" He asks, his tone teasing but with a hint of something deeper in his eyes. "Like the way I make you feel all riled up and wanton?"

You nod, unable to form words, your body still buzzing from the kiss and the way he was looking at you. "Yeah," you manage to whisper, your voice sounding small and breathless.

He chuckles softly, his hand moving from your chin to trail down your neck. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his fingers tracing a path down to your bare chest. “You like the way a big strong man like me can make you feel so small and weak. Like you belong to me.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as he pins you down on the bed, his body looming over you. He looks down at you with a wolfish grin.

"That's right, darlin'," he growl, his hands on your wrists, holding them down on either side of your head. "You're mine. Mine to take care of, mine to tease, mine to pleasure."

He holds your wrists with one hand, while undoing his belt with the other. You watch with fascination, and a hint of trepidation, as he pulls the belt slowly out of the loops of his jeans.

His jeans slid down his leg followed by his boxers.

His cock sprung free and your breath hitched. "You're getting ruined tonight, pretty girl." He whispered before pressing the head of his member to your entrance.

You whimpered grabbing onto his bicep.

The next thing you knew you were being stretched open by his length, letting out precious cries.

He wiped your tears of ecstasy with his large hands only adding to your arousal.

He pushed you further down into the bedsheets, the back of your head buried in the pillows.

His hips thrusted forward, your back arching as he let out loud grunts.

"You're doing amazing baby," he muttered into your ear. You let out a gentle moan, your hands tangling in his hair as his stubble brushed up against your cheek.

"P-please," you whispered.

A grin spread across his face, "Are you close sweetheart? Do you need daddy to fuck that cunt a little more?"

You whimpered, your nails pressing into his skin. "I-I think so... Oh god- Please just a little more Logan..."

The second you opened your mouth he was moving faster and more violently. Then his hot seed poured into you, and you were ruined.

Ruined on these white bedsheets. Ruined for the first time. Ruined, no longer innocent. Ruined by this older man.

A long gasp escaped your throat.

"Did you enjoy yourself hun?" He murmured into your ear.

"I..." You nodded. "I did, thank you."

You laid down in his arms not prepared for another round for a long while. You were still processing all that had happened.

He got up to take a shower.

After a moment of silence, you hear the bathroom door open and close, the sound of the shower turning on following soon after. You're left alone with your thoughts, your body still humming with the aftermath of what just happened.

You lie there, staring up at the ceiling, your mind swimming with a flurry of emotions. There's a mixture of pleasure, confusion, and a hint of shock at what just happened.

The sound of running water continues from the bathroom, a constant reminder of the man inside who just took you to heights you'd never before experienced.

You're still trying to process everything – the feeling of his body against yours, the way he moved, the way he made you feel. The way he called you 'his.'

You listen to the sounds of the shower, the water drumming against the tiled walls. You can picture him in there, the soap suds running over his muscular, scarred body, the steam rising around him.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the shower stopping, and the bathroom door opening again. A moment later, Logan appears in the doorway, steam billowing behind him. He's got a towel wrapped around his waist, and his hair is damp and tousled.

He grins when he sees you on the bed, sprawled out and still recovering from the intensity of it all. "Hey there, princess," he says, his voice low and gravelly. He walks over to the bedside and looks down at you with a hungry gaze.

"Looks like I wore you out," he chuckles. He reaches out and brushes a strand of hair out of your face, his touch unexpectedly gentle.

"But you look damn cute all worn out," he adds, his smirk growing wider. He lowers himself onto the bed beside you, his weight causing the mattress to dip under him.

He props himself up on one elbow, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in the sight of you, still naked and flushed in the aftermath of their encounter. “You doin' all right, baby girl?”

You nod, managing a slight smile. "Yeah," you whisper, your voice still a little hoarse. "I'm just…processing everything, I guess."

He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his chest. You can feel the warmth of his skin against yours, the heat radiating from him like a furnace.

He nuzzles his face into your hair, inhaling deeply. "You smell good, princess," he murmurs, his voice low and gravely.

"And you're so damn soft," he continues, his free hand roaming over your bare back. "So soft and warm, just like a little kitten."

You shiver slightly at his touch, the sensation both comforting and arousing. You press yourself closer to him, relishing the feeling of being enveloped in his strong arms.

He continues to murmur in your ear, his words now growing more heated. "And that little body of yours….so tender, so responsive, all for me," he whispers, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

His hand runs down your spine, sending little jolts of electricity through your body. "You're mine now, princess," he whispers into your hair. "All mine. My sweet, little thing."

He wraps both arms around you, holding you close to his broad chest. You can hear the steady thump-thump of his heartbeat, a comforting rhythm in the quiet room.

Wrapped up in his embrace, his warmth and strength surrounding you, you feel safe and cared for. The worries and fears of the mission fade away as your eyes grow heavy.

Before you know it, you're slipping into a deep and peaceful sleep, your breathing slow and steady, your body completely relaxed in Logan's strong arms.

🏷️: @vintagemoss

[starlightazriel]

bee 11

desc: modern bestfriends > lovers (femreader) (tattoo artist az)

warnings: 18+, drug/alcohol addiction/recovery, reader overthinking/insecure/depressed, jealousy, archeron sisters have entered the chat, angst, fluff, co-dependence(and all the trauma that comes with it),

wc: 4.2k

a/n: wow i'm so sorry this took so long as some of you know i been going through some things anyyyway we've come so far since the beginning myyy goodness, as much as I love sober az I already miss the az who was doing a line before a tattoo, but alas after all the drama last time I hope this makes up for it <3 kisses xoxox

other parts on my az masterlist

eleven

Sixty days.

Sixty days of loneliness.

Sixty days of an empty house.

Sixty days of overthinking.

Sixty days of gut wrenching anxiety.

Sixty days of no contact.

Sixty days of not hearing his voice.

It had been my idea, the whole no contact, and now, it felt like it had been the worst fucking idea in the world. Facing him now seemed impossible. Would he look different? Would he be different?

Fucking idiot. Do you know how much can change in sixty days? Sober Ariel won't even want you.

It had been maybe a week in when the seed of doubt had blossomed in my gut. The regret for the dumb idea that space was the best thing for our relationships, time to figure ourselves out so we could add to each others lives— instead of depending on each other. Him, needing me, me needing to be needed.

It was such a fine line between give and take and I had offered every last piece of myself to him without a hesitation. With him gone, with him healing, getting better... What would he need me for? What was I supposed to do with myself? School was hardly distracting, and finals coming up should have helped but only made it worse.

Rhys and Cass had visited him, a few times, they had also gone on another Vegas trip, without him obviously, apartment hunting. That did nothing to soothe my gut either, that was real. It was happening in mere months they were moving to Vegas. Neither did the way they all stopped talking about him when I was around, did he tell them something? Did he tell them he was going to break it off with me for good when he got home? Or did my friends really think I was that fragile? That I couldn't even handle hearing about him?

'I would let Rhys sue me for breaking contract before I would leave this city without you.' his previous words echoed in my mind, I had been so sure he meant it when he'd said that to me, so sure that I would never be alone again.

And of course I wanted him to get clean, but somehow, everything felt different now. I wasn't so sure of anything anymore. Would he still feel the same way?

I hadn't even looked into transferring schools. He had told me to, before he left... But doing that made everything more real, and what if he changed his mind when he saw me again?

He wouldn't be in a drug clouded haze anymore. He wouldn't need me anymore, not the way that I needed him.

And I wouldn't even get any alone time with him, not immediately. Rhys was throwing a little get together for him, he was so proud, they were all so proud of him.

I hated that I wasnt as proud as everyone else when I should be the most proud, I hated that I was afraid of the new Azriel. There would be nothing for me to fix anymore.

With every waking moment that passed my anxiety and insecurity grew. Getting ready for his 'sober party' seemed surreal to me, it only created more doubts in my mind. I mean, had Azriel, my Az, really agreed to that? Even as a sober version of himself— it seemed doubtful.

-

Sixty days.

Sixty days of detoxing his mind, body, and soul.

Sixty days of boring meals.

Sixty days of therapy multiple times a week.

Sixty days of sharing his darkest side with complete strangers.

Sixty days of uncomfortable beds and scratchy sheets.

Sixty days of living in sweat pants because it was all he had packed.

Sixty days of heart stopping guilt and revelations about himself and his behavior.

Sixty days of torturous inescapable demons that seemed to be at war in his mind.

Sixty days of not hearing her voice.

The moment she had told him she didn't want to talk to him while he was in rehab, he had wanted to stay. Give up the idea entirely and quit on his own accord. He didn't though, he went. And it wasn't only for her. No, it was for him too. And he thought maybe it was valid, maybe they did need space, time away to clear their minds and have a true fresh start. He could do things right this time.

And now, with his head clear, he was happy he had gone. He felt stronger, in his mind and body. It had been a lot, a lot of facing things that had happened in his childhood that he had never dared to face before. Things he didnt have to face when drugs and alcohol had been his safety net for so many years. He realized he didnt need substances to deal with those things, his traumas didnt make him weak or vulnerable, they made him stronger.

He did recognize his problem, and he couldn't say for sure that he would never touch the bottle or snort a line ever again because that was just unrealistic. He was only human and he would do his absolute best to be a good man, for himself.

For Bee too. If she still wanted anything to do with him, the silence between them was the loudest one he'd ever felt, even miles away.

Bee.

His lover. His everything.

There was nothing that could get in the way anymore, he hadn't realized until now how much his addictions had been separating him from her. And of course he had gotten off it before but never without alcohol to help him along. He had never been so fucking deep into his addictions, had never gone that crazy. What he had done was completely unacceptable and now he could only hope for the best when he saw her. A party thrown by Rhys and his girlfriend hadn't been his ideal meeting place... But it had been completely sprung on him. Him being in rehab wasnt a secret, but that didn't mean he wanted to advertise it. Rhys had promised it was a very small get together, just something to show their support. 'No pictures.' Azriel had been sure to clear that up with him. The party was supposed to be a surprise, luckily for Az, Rhys knew him better than that.

-

Rhys and his new girlfriend had out done themselves along with the help of Mor who had told me this morning when she arrived in town that she wouldn't have missed this for the world. 'I mean, Azriel sober? I have to see it for myself and support,' she had said over coffees earlier, I had gotten quiet, I knew I could have talked to her about how I was feeling. But it felt wrong, it was embarrassing to say the least. I didnt think she would understand, either.

Rhys' place was decked out, balloons everywhere, charcuterie and little desserts lined both of the large tables, there was a mocktail station and a coffee station where she had also decorated Rhys' coffee pot, another table had a 'fill your own cone' bud bar that included a big jar full of Azriels favorite cigarettes as well. Her theme was 'Sober & Slaying' and there were banners and balloons to match. My heart had swelled the moment I had entered the apartment and part of me felt a little guilty for not getting here earlier. I hadn't been doing much of anything though, I wasn't eating right, I wasn't sleeping right, my thoughts and fears and insecurities had been practically eating me alive. They hadn't even asked me to help with set up, simply to show up on time, I at least had arrived twenty minutes early.

"Oh good! You're here, will you help me with this last mocktail?" Feyre beams after she had pulled me into a quick hug. She was very sweet although a bit reserved at first she had warmed up to me quickly. She was setting up some last minute decorations, I was early, of course, my anxious gut hadn't allowed me to sit at home a moment longer.

Part of me was hoping this new relationship would entice Rhys to stay a little bit longer, but they were already talking about going long distance until Feyre was ready to take the leap and move to Vegas. Seemed awfully soon to even be talking about it to me, but I wasn't one to judge, they did seem madly in love nearly instantly, and Rhys was, different. Nicer even.

"Yeah of course," I flashed her a grin and tasted the mocktail she was working on before I added some more of the homemade blueberry simple syrup she had made. "So good," I hummed in approval once I had tasted it again.

"So like, will this be the first time you and Az speak?" Mor tries to make it sound as casual as possible, my eyes focus intently as I transferred the mocktail to the aesthetically pleasing drink dispensers Feyre had put out.

"Um yeah, I haven't seen him or spoke to him since the night before he left," I shrugged, my eyes not lifting once. It had been quite the emotional night, it felt like a lifetime ago.

"I visited him once, he looks really good," she responded and I couldn't stop the jealous pang that hit my gut. Space. We had decided space was the right thing for us, a reset to our relationship after everything we had been through. My dumb idea, but he had agreed. I only smiled in response, and was glad when Cassian arrived with a cake in hand, his loud greeting drew all the attention away from me. Bless him. I found a corner to sit in, a quiet corner with my phone and one of the mocktails Feyre had made. A few more arrived, Feyres sisters, which I had only met a handful of times. Why were they here? Az didn't know them, did he? The only way that was possible would be if Rhys had brought them for one of his visits— the mocktail felt sour in my stomach and I felt more than relieved when Kat finally arrived and joined me in my corner.

"Hi love, how you holding up?" Kat had been very supportive through this entire rehab thing, and was making my loneliness nearly bearable.

"I'm fine, really, just coping with all of— all of the emotions of all the sudden change I guess," I shrug easily, Kat was the only one I had really felt comfortable to tell my true feelings to. She was the only one I knew that wouldn't judge. She nodded in understanding, making herself comfortable in her seat.

"That's valid, it's a lot to take in girl," She begins and I'm relieved when she can't continue because Cassian is all but shouting a second later.

"He's coming up he texted me a few minutes ago," Cassians voice drowns out the chatter around the room and I feel my insides go to liquid, my throat feeling tight and constricted.

My heart stopped when I finally laid my eyes on him. Impossibly sexier. His face was more full, color in his cheeks, a sparkle in his eye I hadn't seen since we were kids, he stood straighter, making him look impossibly taller, shoulders spread, oozing with a confidence I hadn't seen in a long time. My gut twisted, my heart picking up, a steady hammer against my chest. I held my breath when our eyes met, his face fell as he scanned me from across the room and I wanted nothing more than to drop into the hole in the floor. It wasn't exactly the reaction I'd been hoping for. I knew I looked awful— but shit, we hadn't seen each other in two months.

"Azriel, it's nice to see you again," Elain is the first person in front of him she's loud enough to hear across the room, her sing song voice carrying, and I try to ignore it but my eyes are glued to his, and he has to tear his away from mine.

"So what, Rhys took Feyre and her random sisters to see Az in rehab?" I drop my voice, forcing myself to look away, to tune out their conversation to the best of my abilities. Kat bit her lip, a notable guilty blush creeping across her cheeks.

"I um.. I was there too," she admits, twirling her hair around her finger, I squint slightly. She could have at least told me that. "It was a last minute thing," she explained quickly, my expression probably throwing her off. I was jealous, I couldn't deny that— I had no one to blame but myself. If I'd never been so set on having space away from eachother... My blood heated, she was gorgeous, just the type that Azriel would go for to. "They just happened to be there and we made a group trip of it— and yeah, I didn't think you'd want to know, considering..." she trailed off and I shrugged my shoulders.

"Yeah, I don't mind at all," I would have rather jumped off of the balcony than have this conversation, I shouldn't have asked. The FOMO was certainly real and I wondered if that's why they were constantly all whispers when talking about Azriel, to spare me of that feeling.

"Youre not imagining her googly eyes though," she scoffs as she glances back over at them and then to me mocking a gag, I smirked a little bit glancing back at them once more and then to Kat again. She was for sure laying it on thick with the sweet tone and all of the unnecessary blinks. I didnt remember that about the first few times I met her.

"I mean I can't even blame her— he looks..." I trailed off searching for the right word, he looked amazing, delicious, sexier than he'd ever had before. He was practically glowing with whatever newfound confidence he'd gained from facing his many demons.

"I know that's your man but he looks hot," she finishes for me and we giggle together, I ignored the heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach that maybe he wasnt my man anymore.

"That he does," I sigh, twirling my straw around in my cup, suddenly I regretted not sneaking a few nips into my purse. I wouldn't get drunk at a sober party, I wouldn't, but something to take the edge off would be nice, and a joint didn't seem like the right option.

I effectively avoided Azriel for at least an hour, I hadn't been keeping track of time but it felt like it had been at least that long. I wasnt ready for a conversation, not when one look at him made my heart stop.

My stomach was growling, and I needed a snack. I was carefully piling charcuterie onto my plate when I jumped and nearly dropped the whole thing.

"Youre avoiding me, and youre doing a good job for how small the space is," his voice is the same one I remember, low and gravelly and sexy.

"Im not," I insist, just hoping he hadn't noticed the way I visibly jumped at the sound of his voice.

"I think I know when my girlfriend is avoiding me," he left a heavy emphasis on the word, looking at me expectantly as if he was daring me to challenge his claim on our relationship status. Relief washed over me, a tension that I hadn't been able to ease since the last time I saw him.

"Its just— Its been a lot I don't know, and having this conversation here... Seems like a lot too," I took a step back from the table but turned around to face him, I could feel more than one pair of eyes watching us, it only made me more uncomfortable.

"Are you eating?" its a direct question, soft but firm, his eyes scanning over every inch of me. My stomach flips, my cheeks reddening.

"Yes," I lift the small plate of cheese, crackers, and fruit as if that proved anything.

"Hm," he doesn't seem satisfied with my answer, his eyes not leaving me for a second.

"You look good Az, you look different," I chewed the inside of my lip, hoping my anxiousness didnt bleed into my words.

"Im still me baby im just better," that same confident smirk spreads across his lips, I knew it well but somehow- there was a different spark behind it. Something all those drugs had dimmed. A light I hadn't seen in a while. "For example, Im not gonna nod off on the couch anymore because Ive had a handle to myself for two days straight and Im hours off a two week coke bender," he said it so casually and leave it to Azriel to make a joke out of it. "From now on," his voice drops as if he knew they were all listening, I felt Elain's curious eyes on us and I knew she was trying to catch every word. Sorry, hes mine. "I won't fall asleep without making sure you are fed, fucked, and tucked into bed."

I blush, looking away from his stare, something in my gut eases but the anxiety is still settled there.

"And Im sorry, for each and every time I failed you. Im clear headed now and—" he cuts himself off, and maybe it was the look on my face that stopped him. "Would you feel better if we went outside?" he nods to the balcony, I quickly nod, desperate to be alone with him and not on display like some soap that they were all watching.

"Please, its. little stuffy in here," my words are a little rushed, and they were true, I felt like I could barely breathe anymore. And I was making a complete idiot out of myself when Azriel hadn't seen me in two months. I feel his hand on my back and he guides me out onto Rhys balcony, I don't look back again, I lean up against the balcony, resting my elbow on the railing and sucking in a deep breath of fresh air before popping one of the pieces of cheese into my mouth.

Azriel joins me after he had shut the door behind us, leaning up against the balcony next to me and he lit up a joint he had gotten off of the bud bar.

"Did you tell your psychiatrist you were going to smoke?" I ask casually, trying to change the subject into something else. Anything else but our relationship, I shouldn't be worried, he had already said I was still his girlfriend.

"Yes," he shrugged, taking another drag from it, I could feel his eyes on me as I set my plate down on the nearby table. I had barely touched it.

"And what did they say?" I ask, quirking a brow as I take it from him, it was annoying that I was more at ease now, normal territory, I didnt like the way sober Az could see right through me, I had thought he was able to before, and now?

He shrugged again, watching me. "Why are you trying to avoid talking about us?" he reaches out, tucking my hair behind my ear so I can't hide from him, my breath catches. He took the joint back, taking one more long drag before putting it out. I shook my head, I couldn't find the right words. He grabs my wrist gently and turns me around so my back is against the railing, his body so close, the scent of his cologne slamming into my senses. "Why?" he repeats, his eyes meeting mine in the dim light, his voice is soft and careful.

"I— I don't know Az," I breathe out, my heart felt like it would pound out of my chest. "It's just I—" I look away, unable to meet his gaze when I feel the word vomit coming. "Im afraid, Azriel. I am. And I know it's fucked up because I shouldn't be. I feel sick, sick with myself that I have been more worried about whether or not you would still want me when you got back than I have about you and your actual recovery. Ive been worried about you being different and not needing me and I know Im so fucked up for that there's something wrong with me and Im sorry—"

"Hey, hey, stop, breathe for a second," he interrupts me, a small sigh leaving his lips as he places both of his hands on my cheeks, lifting my face to look at him and he gently wipes away my shameful tears with his rough thumbs, the feeling makes my spine tingle. "Don't feel bad for anything that you feel or have felt in these past weeks," he assures me, one of his thumbs still gently rubbing against my cheek, his eyes burning into mine. "I— I created that for you, that whole thinking you need to be needed by me. I created this... Trauma bond, I know that now, I know that I made our relationship toxic. It's not your fault, I hadn't dealt with any of my shit and I basically put it on to you. Im sorry, Im sorry you felt like that at all and I wish..." he sighed softly, one of his hands fell to my waist. "I wish I had the courage to call you, because I wanted to so many times, but I didnt think you'd want to talk to me. You needed space and I had to respect that but seeing you now, seeing you haven't been taking care of yourself like you should have. I should have been there for you," he sighed, clearly frustrated with himself. "I know where I fucked up, I know what kind of damage Ive done, this only proves it," he brushed his finger over the dark circle underneath my eye. "I love you, I love you so much, maybe too much sometimes," he sighs again, I fight the urge to close my eyes and lean into his touch.

"Az I love you too," I breathe out because Im stunned into silence. Everything hes said, his accountability, his words, they felt like they were crashing into me.

"Im not going to leave you like that ever again," he promised, and took a step closer, pressing his body into mine. He felt stronger, more solid. It was almost like he had left a boy and returned a man. "You are going to be my wife some day, you are the fucking definition of ride or die Bee, I swear, for the last two months the more clear my head got I just realized one thing over and fucking over," he wasnt afraid, he had absolutely no hesitations, every single word felt like a promise, and I felt like my heart was palpitating. "I hit the fucking jack pot with you, and I fear the smartest thing that Ive ever done in my life was share my favorite candy with the girl across the street."

My cheeks are burning, tears streaming, but they aren't sad, just emotional. I don't know what else to do, my words are caught in my throat so I kissed him. I pulled him down, my fingers tugging in the hairs at the nap of his neck, our tongues tangling perfectly like they always had. He was mine, still my Az, better, better like he had said. He was right. A soft groan escaped his lips, my stomach flipped at the sound, the thought of how he would have his way with me later after so many days apart. My body melted into his at the thought, our hungry kiss only escalating. Our desperate need for each other matching perfectly, our emotions pouring into the heated kiss. I tilted my head his lips traveling down my jaw and across my neck, settling behind my ear and gently sucking. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, I moaned his name softly, my body feeling like a hot puddle.

"Hmm?" he hummed against my skin, his hand had slipped under my dress where he was rubbing soft circles on the least sensitive part of my thigh, somehow it was still driving me mad.

"We, we should go in now... They are going to be wondering whats taking us so long," I breathed out, I couldn't even see past Azriel into the house, I was sure they could see us though, or at least see Azriel pinning me against the railing.

"They should have known better than to throw me a party when I haven't seen my baby in sixty whole days, and they definitely should have known better than to let you wear this dress," he tugs lightly at the fabric. "They should have known Id need alone time with you," his eyes glimmered with mischief. "I have a lot of making up to do," he added, tracing his scarred finger over my jawline.

"I hated this idea more than you Im sure," I admitted guiltily, biting down on my lip. "But they worked really hard Az," I tried to peek around him to see inside again, he only shifted to block my view.

"Fine, but five more minutes," he smirked, tilting my chin up again.

"Five more minutes," I whispered breathlessly before he crashed his lips onto mine again, and I felt all of my anxiety melt away, as if he was pulling it from me.

And I felt safe.

Home.

Safe.

-

taglist <3:

@smalljasper289 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @scorpioriesling @userxs-blog @lilah-asteria @abadfantasybook @judeduartewannbe @lindsayscottagebythesea @velarisdusk @serxndipity-ipity-blog @julesvanslutta @honk4emoboyz @bookishbishhh @dakotali @blessthepizzaman @scooobies @durgenyx @lorosette @kayjaywrites

[typing-catastrophe]

I have been so cooked for this man lately that I need to talk about him— I genuinely think that with a ADHD/autism/AuDHD partner Ford takes notes on your stims and quirks, even before any serious relationship. Just little things like “waves hands when excited :)” and “prefers baggy sweaters” just like a little way of understanding you better 🥺💖

yesss definitely! as an AuDHDer who stims a lot myself, this is everything!! jfskhfshsk

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

"Aaaahhhhh oh myy-" the rest of what you were saying was incomprehensible because the words slurred together in an excited squeal. A gleeful expression upon your face, you waved and shook your hands in front of your body, then pressed them over your mouth, to stifle another squeal.

Ford smiled to himself as he watched you from the other side of the room, where he propped his notebook open to scribble something down.

"Heeyyyyy Grunkle Ford, watcha got there?" Mabel's voice rang out right beside him.

He snapped the book shut and whipped his head around.

"Mabel!"

"Waves hands when excited." she cited what she had just read, "Were you talking about-"

"No, I was certainly not!" Ford said, while his cheeks started to turn a deep red colour.

"Are you suuuure? Because to me it looks like you diiiid." she said, a cheeky grin on her face and dragging some of the vowels.

"You are mistaken, dear child. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do." he excused himself and stood up, holding the notebook close to him.

Without letting her get another word in, he moved past her and made his way into his study.

There, he propped open the notebook to the page he'd just added a new note onto.

- likes to hum when no one is around - seems to prefer more loose fitting clothes. possibly because the don't restrict movement as much - will unconsciously play and fidget with any jewellery they're wearing - sorts and eats their food in a particular order - would rather not eat at all than something not appealing - skin irritating clothing causes great discomfort. remove tags!! - wants to talk but holds back. encouraging them has positive effect - avoids eye contact but will look at faces when the person isn't looking at them - do not touch without warning and do not force contact! expressed great discomfort to me after being forced to physical contact by someone else - repeating phrases and noises (quite endearing) - easily startled by sudden and loud noises, as well as irritated by high pitched ones, almost too quite to hear - shows behaviours similar to felines. has stated that they would be delighted to posses the ability to purr (he would be delighted too)

Ford smiled as he looked up and leaned back. He really hoped Mabel hadn't seen too much, otherwise she might figure out how interested in you he really was. And we wasn't sure if he was ready for that.

For now he would be very much content continuing to dreamily gaze over at you and notice all the little things, so he could understand you better.

Maybe one day he could work up the courage to ask you out.

-------------------------------------------------- thank you for reading <3 reblogs are appreciated

[sun-e-chips]

Wait…

Do the boys fluster easy? Like if y/n ever grew a backbone and said literally anything-

Like the smallest thing or like, taped a flower to suns rays or moons headdress (does it have a specific name please tell me if it does) how would the boys react?

I get a break because of the storm so I’m digging into my inbox! >:D

Great question! I would say yes to the boys flustering easy but they fluster differently if that makes sense.

Moon: Moon I would say flusters the easiest. Though he handles “flirts” from guests with ease, (giving a witty/charming one-liner to keep it professional and lighthearted) he knows it’s part of the job and nothing is serious, but if y/n did or said anything flirtatious to Moon he would freeze up XD

With guests this usually happens during luau’s between when he’s performing or working the bar. Moon realizes guests are just enjoying themselves and mean nothing inappropriate when they’re having fun with flirtatious banter, it’s part of his job to be engaging and pleasant so he doesn’t really mind. That’s why y/n showing any affectionate interest in him would come as such a shock, he never thought about someone being genuinely interested in him that way. Poor guy needs some time to adjust.

Sun: Now Sun is an oddball to me, I’m still trying to understand him and his emotions myself haha. Sun REALLY blurs the lines between platonic and romantic affection, he is in general a very loving guy. With guests personal space is a foreign concept to him, of course he is still very professional and can judge an appropriate situation/person, but he just has a talent for being able to connect with guests so their comfortable with his playful antics. With Y/N however his actions areeeeee a mixed bag I guess, (think of it like a magic fruit basket, Sun is giving you a variety of fruits in one package, if you choose to only take out oranges then it’s an orange basket, if you want to take out apples and oranges then it’s an apple and oranges basket, pick out whichever you like it’s all there but you don’t have to accept anything you don’t like, he’s letting you decide what you want your basket to be made up of) weird analogy I know but it’s what I thought of

Anywhoo for Sun to catch on that an act is flirtatious it has to be clear or at least catch him off guard! Little note here, Suns pupils disappear when he’s flustered from y/n. It’s a lil scary at first, in the illustrated instance this is the first time of this happening and it may be mistaken as Sun freezing but he was very much there and would have returned the gesture if not for the pool noodle -whack- lol

[soberpluto]

Examining Neptune's Spell

Apologies for not being here after so much time, but now I'm back and very thrilled to share this with you all! I'm hopeful many can find this helpful.

Unnecesary context aside, just recently I was having a long and deep conversation with a friend of mine about my semi-recurring mini existential crises. After hearing me patiently, with the dear intention of making me realize I was drowning in my tiny glass of water, he simply (and brilliantly) replied:

"I think you're problem is that you have unrealistic expectations about yourself."

Any attempt to blurt out in self-defense ceased instantly because of how deep these words sunk in my mind. I stared into the wall before for me and felt how the missing puzzle piece finally dropped into the perfect spot. Obviously, the thought of having my sun in Cancer and Neptune in almost exact opposition popped inside, and it took a WHOLE new dimmension. How could this statement not be true?! OF COURSE he was right! It's not that I wasn't told that before or haven't read about it multiple times in my astrology studies, but the truth is, (a very Neptunian thing now that I think about it) I didn't believe it quite applied to me. Because I don't like to feel mediocre and because I think of myself as a spiritual and highly self-aware woman, I was convinced that holding myself to "unrealistic standards" was definitely NOT the reason that triggered me to want fleed to a desert islands at times when reality felt like too much. It was bitterly humorous when I realized I evidently missed the fact that Neptune was making a hell of a job doing what he does best: casting its spells of illusion and glittery distorted beliefs about how things were "supposed to be" in a surprisingly unadverted way into my life. I was truly relieved to actually understand (or accept, better said) why trying to have a simple and happy life seemed too tricky at times. It all made sense.

Now, let me introduce Neptune, if you happen to be unacquainted.

Neptune in astrology is like the ultimate dream weaver, spinning a web of intuition, imagination, and mystery. It’s the planet of all things ethereal, where reality gets a little blurry, and you’re invited to dive into the deep end of fantasy, spirituality, and idealism. Neptune whispers, "What if?" and suddenly, we're seeing the world through a kaleidoscope of possibilities, but a "little" foggy on the details. We're all influenced by Neptune one way or another, but when it touches personal planets or points in our charts, it’s like life hands us a pair of customized rose-colored glasses, but the prescription is way off. Suddenly, everything feels a bit magical, like we're starring in your own fairytale, except the castle is made of mist, the prince might just be a mirage, and that enchanted forest? It’s actually a parking lot.

But why bother making us feel loony? On a more serious note, our master illusionist possesses the higher purpose of awakening our connection to something greater than the everyday grind. It gently pulls us out of the rigid boundaries of reality and whispers, "There’s more to life than meets the eye." It invites us to explore the depths of our imagination, spirituality, and compassion, blurring the lines between self and universe. The illusions it creates are really a nudge to dissolve our ego’s grip, helping us see beyond the material and embrace a higher sense of love, creativity, and unity with the cosmos.

As inspiring and touching as it sounds, the catch is that fulfilling Neptune’s mission can feel like chasing fog—just when we think we’ve got a handle on it, it slips through our fingers. Neptune wants us to transcend reality and connect with the divine, but let’s be real: that’s not exactly a day-to-day, grocery-list-friendly goal. For someone with heavy Neptune influence, this pursuit of higher meaning can be disorienting, leaving them feeling lost in a sea of "what ifs" and "maybes." And thanks to its grandeur idealism, it can push people to be hypersensitive, highly fearful of failure and completely inaccurate with what they may achieve in a day, let alone a lifetime!

For a Neptunian, the intuitive desire to be flawless and sufficient does not come from wordly expectations, but from a place of soulful calling that more often unconsciously than consciously tells them they're limitless beings living in a limited reality. And this is exactly the greatest challenge of all: to accept that the truth must be known while respecting the illusion, just as a spiritual teacher Michael Mirdad states.

That said, you can imagine what happens when mystical and whimsical Neptune gets cozy with your personal planets. Let's see in detail how it sprinkles its glitter them:

Sun

Soft Aspects: With soft aspects, your Sun is shining brighter than ever! Neptune sprinkles fairy dust on your creativity and confidence, making you feel like a superstar in your own musical. It’s all about embracing your spiritual side and believing that you can conquer the world—cape optional!

Hard Aspects: You’re the artist of your own identity, but the canvas keeps shifting. One day you’re an astronaut, the next day you’re a poet, and by the end of the week, you’re contemplating becoming a full-time mystic. Neptune tells you, "Be everything," but sometimes that just leaves you wondering, "Who am I, really?"

Moon

Soft Aspects: Your emotions flow like a gentle river, and you’re tuned in to everyone’s feelings like a super empath (you could be a cool wizard/witch or clairvoyant!). Neptune wraps you in a cozy blanket of intuition, making heartfelt connections feel like a warm hug from the universe. Cue the happy tears!

Hard Aspects: Enter the emotional whirlpool! Neptune can stir up your feelings like a cosmic blender, leading to mood swings and a general sense of overwhelm. You might find yourself daydreaming your way through real-life emotions, and good luck figuring out what you actually feel!

Mercury

Soft Aspects: With Neptune’s gentle nudge, your thoughts become a beautiful symphony! Communication flows like honey, and you’re bursting with creative ideas. It’s a fantastic time for writing, brainstorming, or chatting about all things magical and dreamy! You could be a music lover, a great singer or a romantic poet.

Hard Aspects: But when Neptune goes rogue, it’s like trying to read a recipe in a funhouse—everything’s upside down! Your thoughts get scattered, and communication feels like a game of telephone gone wrong. Get ready for misunderstandings and the occasional “Wait, what did you just say?” This aspect looks very similar to a Piscean or Sagittarian Mercury, a common link to ADHD.

Venus

Soft Aspects: Love is in the air! Neptune turns your romantic life into a whimsical fairy tale, where everything feels enchanting. Your heart opens wide, and connections deepen, making even the smallest moments feel like a scene from a rom-com.

Hard Aspects: But hold on! Neptune might have you wearing those rose-colored glasses a bit too tightly. You might find yourself idealizing partners or being swept away by fantasies, only to crash back to reality when things don’t match your dreamy expectations. Ouch!

Mars

Soft Aspects: With Neptune in your corner, your drive becomes a creative spark! You’re ready to take action with a burst of inspiration, making you feel like a superhero on a mission. Time to tackle those goals with flair and imagination!

Hard Aspects: When Neptune throws in a twist, it’s like trying to run through quicksand. Your motivation might wane, leaving you confused about where to focus your energy. It’s a cosmic case of “I had a plan… what was it again?”

To wrap it up after such long post, living with Neptune’s influence means you’ve got a backstage pass to the land of dreams, creativity, and big feelings. But it also means you might find yourself getting tangled up in illusions, setting sky-high standards that real life simply can’t meet. So when Neptune touches your personal planets, just remember: it's okay to dream big, but keep a little reality check in your back pocket. You can chase those rainbows, but don’t forget to pack an umbrella for when they dissolve into rain.

Thanks so much for reading, love you! 🥰

Written by @soberpluto

[wmnwntmefshfrme]

I FINISHED THEM. I DID IT. WOOHOO (crying)

design notes:

Yaira: nothing changed

Estrella: dead mom ponytail gone </3 i only did it in the og drawing of her bc its funny

Robin: ROBINNNN. IM SO SORRY I FORGOT THE PUFF BUNS UUEHEHHHHH- anyway, when i was planning out the designs for the other named npcs, i was like "why the hell are there so many gingers" so i made her have blue hair :3 to match with her confidence stat :3 also gave her yellow/orange eyes instead of green bc there were also a lot of green eyed npcs

Sydney: SKUNK HAIR. I DUNNO HOW I FORGOT ABOUT THAT YUMMY DYE STYLE. SYDNEY IM SORRY. i completely forgot i wanted to still have her natural hair (also just made pink bc teehee i like whimsy) to show

Whitney: not much changed besides the hair style. completely forgot i wanted her to be super gyaru OTL. gave her cheek piercings bc they're cute :3

Kylar: i lowkey started to not like how i did her hair originally and then came across all the sketches i made for the LIs and was like FLUFFY KY :3 ofc had to keep the emo bangs :3

Avery: nothing changed LMAOAOA

Great Hawk: FEATHER HAIR. I FORGOT I MADE A SKETCH FOR FEATHER-LIKE HAIR FOR HER. IM MAD AT MYSELF.

Black Wolf: not much changed, just made her hair longer bc why not

Alex: not much changed, just made he hair more of a red red, darkened her skin, altered her bangs, and changed the color of her bandana. still wanted to keep her looking like a cutie patootie

Eden: I ACCIDENTALLY GAVE HER A GIANT FOREHEAD THE FIRST TIME AND I DIDN'T MEAN TO SOBBING. not much changed though, just made her hair darker and have a green tint to it. look im trying to make my designs have lots of whimsy

Quinn: you can tell with Quinn LMAO. i just felt like she needed to have a distinct look since she's a special npc n all :3 classic purple and green color scheme for a shady character

Bailey: i'm gonna be honest, i was originally gonna go with a mean asian mom look for Bailey but then i was like "....what if muscle mommy"

Remy: i wanted her to look like a little shit. that's all

Briar: tried to go for a bit of a Jessica Rabbit and Rarity type aura. i really like her design and she could put me in the underground brothel any day :3 /j

Leighton: just an old hag, nothing special

Harper: wanted to make her look a little inhuman??? i think i got it with how dead her skin looks idk. also wanted her to look like a little shit

Landry: here's where the asian mom look went. i like her and Mickey's dynamic and they both just look like regular people (better for crime)

Sirris: Sydney if she was older. idk what else i should've done lol

River: old lady :3 hot old lady :3c (pt 1)

Doren: i wanted her hair to look fluffy as hell

Winter: old lady :3 hot old lady :3c (pt 2)

Mason: SEAWEED HAIR. that's all

Charlie: wanted to embody :3c

Darryl: she's very cutie patootie to me so i made her a cute patootie

Sam: wanted her to look like candy kinda. idk :3

Niki: i only made her hair a little longer and no weird two layer thing for the short portion

Zephyr: wanted her to look smug and also kinda cute???? idk, i didn't really have a vision for her

Jordan: also didn't really have a vision for her, but it did want her to gave similar eyes to Quinn

Gwylan: her i did have a vision for :3c she's a cutie patootie, that's all :3

Wren: thought a side shave would make her look cooler

Mickey: hairstyle changed a little. other than that, not much changed

Morgan: still a wet rat

Ivory Wraith: nothing changed (they have special eyes tho)

[n0tamused]

Have you by any chance seen someone on Twitter posting a translated version of Xiangli Yao's daily schedule? How about writing something like what his schedule would be with the reader (already in a relationship) maybe on a day off? Something like: 8:00 AM - get up and start day 10:00-12:00 AM snuggled in bed with y/n as a result. Or - 4:00 PM - prosthetic maintenance. ambushed from behind. (Imagine nuzzling him from behind while he tinkers with his hand 🥺) Something like a bunch of small drabbles in 1 work? I guess finding someone to write for him awakened something in my brain, I'msorry.

A/n: I have heard of this schedule but tbh I didn't see it myself before I got this request lol, I really find the idea sweet so I hope I did it justice! And no need to apologize, I am happy to write for Xangli Yao

Contents: Xiangli Yao x GN!Reader, fluff, short drabbles, established relationship not proofread

Saturday:

08:30 - Wake up

It’s been many years since Xiangli Yao has practiced this continuous cycle of waking up at certain times, to the point he did not need an alarm clock anymore. It was 8:14 when he came to his senses, morning light sleeping through the blinds and softly caressing his eyelids to open. He turns away from them, shifting sluggishly underneath the blankets, knowing that work wasn’t waiting on him today. 

He is greeted by your sleeping face, relaxed and soft as the few spots of light from the blinds danced over your cheeks and lips. The light didn’t seem to disturb you, something he was thankful for as he shuffled closer and wrapped his good arm around you, bringing you closer to his warmth as he nuzzled his nose into the top of your head, breathing in your scent as your hair tickled his skin. He feels you mold into his shape, your sleep heavy arm going underneath his and over his side, the blanket keeping your shared warmth trapped, shielding you from the chilly morning.

09:30 - make breakfast with my beloved :) 

Well, it may have been 9:10 by the time you both willed yourself to leave the comforts of eachothers arms. It was hunger that pulled you both from bed, stumbling into the bathroom. Xiangli Yao was next to you as you washed your face while he brushed his teeth. He handed you your toothbrush after you blindly found the towel next to the sink and brushed your face dry. 

Although he had gotten used to being the one to prepare breakfast for both of you during workdays, the weekends did allow more time, and so Yao did try to listen to you more when you said you wanted to help or do more of the work since you don’t usually get the chance to do so. He did convince you some times before, letting you so simply sit aside and look pretty while he whips you up your favorite, but today wasn’t that day. You woke up with more energy and a craving for good quality time and to get your hands busy.

What ends up happening is a table full of food, a big but balanced breakfast of veggies and fruit and needed protein. While you were setting up the table, Xiangli Yao poured you both the juice you made the weekend. He may not think about it too often, but he always feels like the richest man in the world when he shares mornings like these with you.

13:00 - go to the market, restock groceries

His prosthetic arm is holding the basket while the fingers of his other hand are intertwined with yours. Xiangli Yao was yet to become truly used to these public displays of affection, but he never disliked them. The thing was that such little acts of affection flustered him so much at first and he’d rather not catch someone ogling him while his cheeks are red as the tomatoes you were looking at now. He was used to it, he tells himself as he slowly lets your fingers slip from his hold when you say you can use some of the tomatoes. He remembers you mentioning a recipe some time ago that required a good amount of tomatoes. He helps you pick out the best ones and he adds it to the basket after the purchase is done. Although today’s shopping trip ended with more bags than either of you expected, Xiangli Yao vehemently refused to  allow you to carry any of the bags.

You ended up stopping at the local dessert shop, purchasing a few sweet goods for home. You mentioned how the chocolate cake he got looked oddly similar to Xiang-LEE. Now he couldn’t unsee it..

16:00 - prosthetic maintenance(p.s. keep your back guarded!)

How oddly homely it felt to have your arms around him while he tinkered away on his mechanical arm..

Although at first you only observed him from the doorway, he chose to skillfully ignore you when you began to sneak closer, almost as if he couldn’t see you from the corner of his eye. 

You knew he knew too, but it's a game you both chose to play every evening when the sun began to lean in to kiss the mountains. 

You hum as you put your chin on top of his head, peering down at the assortment of open wires and metal plating scattered about on the table. There's a screwdriver in his good hand, and he's clearly doing something, but you're unsure what. Perhaps you'd ask one day, tell him to explain how his arm really works, but that is not today.

He feels you leaning in and kissing his cheek and then his temple.

“The meal is soon to be done. Don't keep me waiting all alone at the table, Xiangli Yao”

19:00 - Free activities 

Xiangli Yao can't help the chuckle that escapes him as he witnesses your scowl and furrowed brows, and all for the little board game with black and white pieces. You've won the round from last night and he deemed it appropriate to ask for a rematch, although he only wished to make you blow off the steam. You've been rather stressed this week, perhaps some back and forth of the game could allow a reprieve.

“You've been thinking about your next move for quite some time now, my love…” he tries, a smile plastered on his lips, both amused and sympathetic.

“...I got it…shh” you return, pushing your chin into the heel of your palm. He hums in response, and another few heartbeats of silence pass before he sees your face light up, as if a star had whispered the next act into your ear. Your fingers deftly move across the board and move your piece across the checkerboard.

“Checkmate!” 

He laughs, his chest shaking with joy as you beam at him. You beat him. Again.

22:30 - bedtime

Mornings are where Xiangli Yao thrives. He is a morning person to the last bone in his body and on work days it is not rare for him to rise before you and his alarm, but they don’t bring him nearly as much relief and joy as bedtime does. Your sleepy face as you go to brush your teeth and change into your bedwear always has his heart softening, his own movements slowing down as his entire body yawns for the comforts of the mattress and comfortable blankets.

He is sitting at the edge of the bed, tinkering with his prosthetic arm for the last time and setting it aside on the table right next to his side of the bed. His prosthetic is cold and rather uncomfortable to sleep with for both of you. From behind he hears you exiting the bathroom and the sound of your bare feet against the floor hurrying up has him turning around to see how you crash into the bed, your face buried into your pillow with a low groan, a breath of relief as weight is taken off your feet.

He shuffles, telling you to get under the blankets while he turns off the lights. Once he remembered you both joking about being afraid of the dark, and although it was all just a joke - Xiangli Yao has been the one to turn off the lights since then. 

He hums as he returns, sliding under the blankets and finding the warmth of your body with searching fingers, pulling himself closer until he was wrapped around you. He buries his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent before laying a lingering kiss to your cheek, bidding you goodnight. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[ashtheketchum]

● Quick ride ●

Daryl Dixon X GN.Reader

Era: Whatever you want

Summary: You and Daryl were on your way to get new resources when you suddenly had a strange desire. And what better way to express it than to touch Daryl?

Warnings: +18 CONTENT, GN.Reader, no smut but touching, teasing, driving motorcycle, please don´t do that kids-

A/N: I'm so sorry I haven't been post something for a long time! I've been very busy and have barely found the time or motivation to write anything! QwQ

Words: 0,7k

Masterlist!

____________________________

PoV (Y/N):

Daryl and I drive through the empty streets of this broken ass world. Rick had asked us to get more food, medicine and other things. And since Daryl and I are responsible for this, we keep driving around. It doesn't really bother me though, I enjoy being alone with Daryl and he seems to like it too. I can't say what the relationship between Daryl and me is like though. We aren't together, but even a blind person can see that we are more than just friends.

There have been a few times where we've exchanged glances, sometimes I've caught him staring at me or the other way around, and sometimes we've touched hands, hips, or faces. Daryl is also looking for a new motorcycle with me so I can ride with him, but I prefer to sit behind him.

So while we're driving, I have my arms loosely wrapped around his waist. I lean my head against his strong back. "Ya comfortable?" I hear him ask. A quiet giggle escapes my throat, but I nod slightly. "Yep… you're warm." At my answer, he just snorts in amusement.

During the entire trip, however, several thoughts were going through my head. Many people in our group had already asked me to take a step, that Daryl definitely had a crush on me. But I never dared, I never saw it in his eyes that he saw something in me. I, on the other hand, think about Daryl 24/7. Both romantically and sexually. How many times have I gone to sleep and ended up touching myself. Just thinking about the past few nights made my insides tingle and my face warm.

Should I try it? I bite my lower lip hard as I slowly let my hand wander to his thigh. At first Daryl doesn't react, but when I slowly stroke his thigh, a quiet grumble escapes him. "Wha' are ya doin'?" He asks me quietly. But I don't react to his question, instead I let my hand slowly wander to his crotch. I apply a little pressure and this time Daryl growls loudly. "(Y/N)…~" God, it turns me on so much when he says my name or growls it. A tingling sensation runs down my back and I feel the hairs on my neck stand up. But since he doesn't smack my hand away or push it away, I just carry on. He can stop his motorcycle and push me away at any time, but he doesn't. Does he like it? Probably, the bulge that formed under my hand is the answer.

"Daryl~…" I whispered his name quietly in his ear, making the bulge in his pants twitch. I slowly start to massage his bulge and press my body against his back. He is now so hard that I can easily wrap my hand around his cock. I massage him like that for a while before I pull my hand back and let my hand slide into his pants. The archer inhales sharply as I wrap my fingers around his shaft and slowly massage it.

The motorcycle rocks a little and Daryl's grip on the handlebars gets tighter and tighter. Loud snorts and growls escape him and his cock twitches again and again. "Eyes on the road, Daryl~…" I purr into his ear. "Dumb… g-god~…" Before Daryl can protest, I squeeze his base a little tighter. I feel his cock pulsing and Daryl's breathing gets faster and faster. Only now do I notice that Daryl is driving slower, probably he doesn't want to risk an accident. Not that it bothers me, I'm just kind of scared of what will happen next if he stops. So I pull my hand out of his pants again. I adjust his pants before my hand is back on his hip. "Drive home~… there we can continue if you want~…" I whisper into his ear.

Daryl growls loudly for a moment before driving faster than ever before. Caught off guard, I press myself tighter against his body and squeeze my eyes shut. Either he wants to get back quickly or he wants to tease me as much as I just did with him.

[menagerofmischief]

Dia's Diner

Welcome to Dia's Diner, here you'll be able to order your meal (fic) with as many specifications and dishes as you want. We hope you leave satisfied ;)

first step is choosing who you want your fic to be about, so pick a server (you can even pick two)

SERVERS:

Max Verstappen

Charles Leclerc

Carlos Sainz Jr.

Lewis Hamilton 

George Russel

Lando Norris

Oscar Piastri

Daniel Riccardo

Alex Albon

Fernando Alonso

Franco Collapinto 

Pierre Gasly

Esteban Ocon

Ollie Bearman

Kimi Antonelli (?)

Sebastian Vettel

Mark Webber

Jenson Button

Toto Wolff

every good meal starts with an appetizer, by choosing your appetizer you're setting the main trope of the fic

STARTERS:

charcuterie board (dating)

artichoke dip (brother’s friend)

olives and cheese (friends to lovers)

stuffed cherry tomatoes (sugar daddy)

hummus nachos (teammates)

shrimp cocktail (rivals to lovers)

and how you want it served

HOT OR COLD: 

hot appetizer (sweet sex) 

cold appetizer (rought sex) 

now it's time to order the main dish, feel free to choose as many as you want

MAINS:

lobster (“I love watching my cum leak out from your pussy”)

caviar and oysters (“Gonna look so good full of my babies”)

fish and chips (“Where are your manners?”)

steak (“Made just for me. My pretty little cocksleeve”)

burger and fries (“Hurts? That’s too bad baby, should have thought about it before being such a slut”)

buffalo wings (“Count them for me”)

ramen (“What would your brother think if he saw us?”)

gyros (“Gonna fill you up”)

full english (“My pretty little slut”)

pizza (“My good girl”)

pesto pasta (“Slow down, you just told me to speed up. What’s it gonna be silly girl?”)

carbonara (“Look so good on my cock”)

sausage rolls (“I’ll make it fit”)

sushi (“Better quiet down, you don’t want them to hear us.)

tacos (“I’m gonna give you an attitude check”)

chicken quesadilla (“So pretty with my cock down your throat”)

crab cakes (“Yeah, gonna swallow like a good girl?”)

chicken nuggets (“Couldn’t help being a brat, could you?”)

kimchi (“Be a good girl and take it”)

tomato soup (“Running away from my dick? I don’t think so.”)

cheese fries (“I love making you squirt”)

stuffed potato (“Just where you belong … on your knees for me”)

sarma (“Gonna put a baby in you”)

moussaka (“You look your best covered in my cum”)

caesar salad (“Lie to me again and you’re not gonna like what happens next”)

chicken skewer (“Be a good girl and cum for me”)

mac and cheese (“Only good girls get to cum”)

mango sticky rice (“Next time you try that shit I’ll make him watch while I fuck you”)

chicken fingers (“Yeah, you like being filled in both ends like a slut”)

butter chicken rice (“If you want it then you better beg for it”)

eggs and bacon ("Are you gonna stop moving or am I gonna hold you down?")

spring rolls ("All you do is complain, perhaps I should shut you up")

sloppy joe ("You have the prettiest mouth. Why don't you put it to good use?")

kebab ("Look at that my cock is splitting you in half")

grilled cheese ("I buy you nice things and then I get to fuck you in them. Sounds fair to me")

pot roast ("You going to let me take my anger out on you, sweetheart?")

chili ("Look at you humping my thigh like a bitch in heat")

california rolls ("Scream my name - I want everyone to know who's making you feel this good)

PB&J ("Look at him while I make you cum")

dumplings ("Ride this cock - it's your cock")

black pudding ("There we good, you're such a good girl, taking you punishment so well")

smoked salmon ("My good girl deserves a reward")

fish tacos ("Just lie back and let me take care of you")

seafood boil ("Maybe I'll make a mix tape of your moans to listen to while I drive")

spaghetti with meatballs ("Why don't you put on that pretty little set I bought for you?")

veggie burger ("Feel how hard you make me")

hot dog ("Thought about you while touching myself. The real things is much better")

ratatouille ("I'll mark you up so much no man will dare talk to you again")

having a drink with your dish really elevates the experience, drinks represent different kinks

DRINKS:

ice tea (oral giving/receiving)

sweet tea (morning sex)

mint tea (body worship giving/receiving)

redbull (filming sex)

vodka redbull (squirting)

white wine (sir kink)

red wine (daddy kink)

rose (spanking)

champagne (threesome)

old fashioned (drunk sex)

whiskey (double penetration)

mai thai (mirror sex)

beer (bondage)

root beer (blindfold)

apple cider (spitting)

apple juice (edging)

orange juice (overstimulation)

boba (anal)

smoothie (hickeys)

matcha (toys)

vanilla milkshake (nipple play)

hot chocolate (dry humping)

espresso (dom/sub)

black coffee (chocking)

mocha coffee (degradation)

pumpkin spice latte (losing virginity)

fanta (size kink)

coca-cola (somnophillia)

coke zero (free use)

pepsi (car sex)

lemonade (public sex)

strawberry lemonade (breeding)

coconut water (jealous sex)

iced water (dirty talk)

to end the night you might consider getting a dessert, in this case dessert is aftercare

DESSERT: 

yes (aftercare included) 

no (aftercare not included)

special instructions: tell me your favorite track/race at the end of your request and I'll throw you in a freebie on the house that goes best with your order

Thank you for visiting! Here at Dia's Diner your pleasure is our priority, so be on the look out for new additions to our menu.

[hotvintagepoll]

Peter Lorre (The Maltese Falcon, Arsenic and Old Lace, Casablanca)—to me he DEFINES scrungle hes the first person i think of every time the term comes up! i want to fold him up like a paper accordion and put him in my pocket. guy that spawned a million voice artists and impersonators. they made a ghost version of him for halloween cereal staple boo berry. bewitched by his nervous mania and tooth gap <3 (for the purposes of propaganda im linking a photo from his extremely short appearance in muscle beach party bc ive been obsessed w it for years and i couldnt find any video for it :/ anyway imagine youre frankie avalon spending the whole movie battling a bodybuilder faction thats taking over your beach and your girl and then you find out this fucking guy is their mastermind mystery leader and hes stronger than all the bodybuilders combined. like Huh. What.)

Tony Randall (Lover Come Back, Pillow Talk)—he's SO TIRED he's three-wheeling ALL THE TIME on rock and doris's shenanigans and he is always SMALL. PATHETIC. INHERENTLY FILLED WITH ENNUI. i feel like all these 60s comedies are very Straight Laced and Heterosexual and yet somehow tony randall is always there having the worst day ever.

This is round 1 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Peter Lorre

he's pretty much the archetype of the scrungly little guy. the blueprint. the example by which all other scrungly little guys are judged

The perfect sniveling character actor, “scrungly” is the first word that comes to mind when I think of him.

The entire point of his iconic role in Casablanca (apart from introducing the central plot mcguffin) was to be LITTLE and SCRUNGLY to make Bogie look even cooler. And Maggot in Corpse Bride - the littlest scrungliest guy in that film - was a parody of him.

I think Arsenic and Old Lace is his quintessential "scrungly" performance. He's so put-upon and tired...all he wants is sleep and some schnapps! I love the way his shoulders fall slowly when he thinks he's caught (he looks like a sad puppy!), only to gleefully sprint out the door when he realizes how dumb those police officers are.

Between his big eyes, wheezy laugh, short stature, and expressive faces, Peter Lorre achieved icon status as the scrungliest, littlest guy in Hollywood. His scrungly little guy energy was often contrasted with the more typical masculinity of the leading man, but whether this contrast was meant to make him seem especially sinister, comedic, or pathetic, it always left an unforgettable impression!

I'm sure somebody else has already submitted him (if not then ???) but he's a cute kind of scrungly little guy. He's got a distinctive nasal voice with an accent that is instantly recognizable and often imitated. His later horror movies are so much fun, especially when he's playing off of Vincent Price. He's so good at being unhinged, creepy, or manic, but also pathetic and sympathetic.

Classic scrungly hollywood golden age little guy who was friends with Humphrey Bogart and still played some of the wettest most sniveling characters ever committed to celluloid (complimentary) there is a deep despair and darkness in many of his characters that enhances his scrungly

To be clear, I am one of those people who will argue that Lorre is one of the most underrated film actors, but the POINT is that he's also just a scrungly delight. A delightfully pocket-sized man. Somehow endearing even when he is being actively amoral (see esp. Casablanca. "I found myself much more reasonable!") The faces he makes while doing the Russian cossack dance with a butter knife between his teeth in Silk Stockings make me laugh just thinking about them.

Wikipedia described his typical characters as "timidly devious", lots of weird little villains and evil sidekicks that are pretty horrifying but still manage to be sort of pathetic and the very definition of "poor little meow meow". His look and voice and mannerisms are so iconic they're still imitated

Cartoons for the next century have and will continue to include Peter Lorre-esque characters when needed to up the scrunge factor (see Bugs Bunny and so many more).

[editor's note on below link: I'm not actually sure how many of these characters are directly influenced by Peter Lorre, so take with a grain of salt. tw for suicide.]

The poster boy for Scrungly. Everyone who wants to draw a scrungly guy draws Peter Lorre. Gomez Addams of The Addams Family was based on him

Tony Randall

"you had everything going for you! poverty!! squalor!!!!" "girls again!!! what's this obSESSion you have with giRLS???"

[justme315]

New family 1/?

! Warning !

swearing, angst, fear, step-family, g/t family, abuse, mention of abusive giants, gigantophobia, mention of the character being religious, sickness

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

I was fucked.

I'm sorry for using that kinda language but I really was. You see, my whole life has been destroyed by thoese damn giants.

Sorry, I don't think I introduced myself yet, I'm Zack.

Me and my mom were always a team. After my dad has passed away when i was 6 she was the only person important to me. It was basically us two against the whole world.

Something that might also be important for you to understand my story is the fact that we live in a world full of humans (like my and my mom) and giants. Giants are.. humanoid 60-ish feet tall creatures. Easily to say - their dangerous. The government rightfully understood the danger and the fear of us humans and created 'human-only' zones, cities, countries even. There were also a few 'giant-only' zones, but I'm not really sure why. It's not like the giants would fear us. Most of the places thoese enourmous beasts live are simply 'mixed-zones', places where both humans and giants can live. Thank God that me and my mom always lived in a 'human-only' zone. I was always skeptical and yeah, terrified of giants.

My mom was different though. Maybe she was just dumb (sorry for saying that mama) but she just couldn't sense danger. She worked in a company that required her to sometimes travel to 'mixed-zones' or 'mixed-cities'. I was always opposed to that but she.. enjoyed it. She even said that she made some giant "friends". I never believed in their honesty though.

But what changed my life once and for all, had happened when I was just 16. Well, going on 17 already, but yeah, still 16.

I never ever once questioned my mom's romantic life after my dad has passed away. She just.. never acted like she wanted to start a new relationship. And I was very okay with that.

But one unfortunate day, just after she came home from one of her business trips she told me that she has got a boyfriend.

That was weried to know, I mean c'mon, picturing your mom having a crush, dating, falling in love etc. is just.. weried and kinda disgusting if you ask me.

Of course, I questioned her and soon I reaveled her secret.

"Zack, I have been dating him for a little over a year. I was just scared of how you might react. But now, I must tell you since.. he proposed."

That felt like I was stabbed straight into the heart. How could she have kept having a boyfriend a secret from me for so long? Why would she? Being lied to by her felt horrible. I thought we were a team - we always told echother everything. But I guess I was wrong.

Really soon I found out that my mom's boyfriends (and now fiances) name is Andrew, that he was just slightly older than her and had two sons about my age, he was also a widower, and according to my mom, we had much in common.

I really couldn't understand why my mom would keep her boyfriend a secret. Untill she revealed she wanted for us to move in with him and his sons. I mean, she had a lot of planing to do, as she was soon to get married again, so that was kinda understandable. I wasn't opposed to moving into a new home, but changed my mind really quickly when my mom reaveled that our new home would be in a mixed-city. I mean, I was never even in that kind of a city, never even seen a giant in real life and was hella terrified of them! She should've understood me. Before she 'fell in love' she always has.

I asked her a milion times if Andrew and his sons can't just move in with us but she always found some excuse. Once, our house was too small, then his older son didn't want to switch universities, another time Andrew was scared of loosing the job. It was always a stupid excuse. Untill she finally reaveled the truth.

You see, Andrew, my mom's husband-to-be was a giant. And so were his sons.

To say that I was mad and scared was an understatement. I felt lied to. I felt like I was being dragged into something I didn't want to be a part of. I, understandably, questioned the honesty of my moms relationship, which angered her the most. I was angry with my mom for over two weeks after finding out about the size of my soon to be step-family and barely spoke with her. I couldn't be away from her for long though and forgave her, but in my heart I still had plenty of doubts.

My friends didn't help ease my fear. I told my best buddies at school and the stories they have told me only made me more afraid and suspicious of the said Andrew and all giants at that point.

"Don't y'all remember Joseph from middle school? He moved to a mixed-city with his parents. He was stepped on by a giant and died!"

"That's nothing compered to what happened to Amy. A quick death is better than being tortured. She is my cousin. She moved to a mixed-zone because she wanted to go to a better collage. One of her giant male classmates kidnaped her and done horrifying things to her. Once she was found she had missing limbs, many scars.. She was mentally, physically and sexually abused by him for months, untill they found the giant. And he barely got any jail time for that! She's still in mental health hospital!"

"My dads best friend Thomas was freaking eaten alive!"

Yeah, I think 3 stories is enough to give you the idea of how freaking terrified I was of the said 'step-family'. Some might say I am a specist (a person that discriminates based on the species (giant and human)) but I wouldn't agree. I don't really think that a human can be a specist becouse we are in the more vaunurable position. Also, I don't hate giants becouse of their size. I hate and fear them because of how brutal and cruel they are towards humans. Maybe a giantophobe would be a more appropriate term for me.

That day was the worst day in my entire life. And it's really hard to beat the day my dad had passed away.

We sold the house. We were at the airport. All ready to go to a mixed-city, over the wall that the government made.

Mom was all smiley and happy, her nose never leaving her phone.

"Andrew texted me that he and his boys are at their side of the barrier already, waiting for us. They can't wait to meet you!"

Right, didn't I mention that they all knew echother, but me?

"I just can't wait to show you the city and our new home!"

I was standing there quiet. No matter how many times I told my mom that i don't agree with her choice of dating a giant or for the fact that I didn't want to move away into a mixed-city she would always say that I will change my mind once I overcome my fear. Hell, I would.

I held my bag closely, trying to hold onto whatever I have not to lose my composure. I was terrified and angry, sure, but showing thoese giants from the start that they have some power over me, even though it was obvious, wasn't something I would do. At last, if I could hide my emotions.

Just a few minutes before our flight, a flight in the opposite direction landed. I saw all those humans, coming back from the mixed-city, most of them seem, okay. That made me confused and curious. Would it really be all that bad?

Untill I saw a girl, probably my age, on a wheelchair. I mean, there is nothing wrong with disabled people, don't get me wrong, but she was crying so she easily got everyone's attention. A woman run up to her.

"Mom!" The girl sobbed, opening her arms to hug her mother. The woman tried calming the girl down but she just kept crying and screaming "It was just supposed to be a student exchange program!! This scary giant crushed my legs!"

The girls voice echoed in my head. It was different to hear stories of distant people, but to see someone hurt by thoese monsters in front of my own eyes was completely different.

Even my mom lowered her phone and looked at the girl with pity in her eyes. I prayed to the Lord to open her eyes and return home safely with me.

"Poor girl" she signed "That must have been a.. horrible accident".

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"Accident?" I looked at my mom angrily, finally letting my emotions out "A giant crushed her legs".

"Honey, I'm sure they didn't mean to.." she looked at me, somewhat shocked at my defensiveness. I shouldn't have expected her to understand. She just simply couldn't sense danger. And that could get both of us killed.

"Her legs were crushed by a giant, mom!" I raised my voice, even so slightly as I couldn't believe how blinded she was by her feelings.

"Zack, calm yourself down" she looked at me more strictly now, as I was getting other peoples attention. I couldn't bare the thought of how stupid this all was. I just wanted to be home. Or anywhere at that point. Anywhere but in a spece where giants were allowed.

"You-" I began to speak.

"The flight 16-399Bhc** is preparing to take off. We ask all the passengers to board the plane within 5 minutes. Thank you and have a good flight" said a voice from the speaker.

"That's our flight!" My mom cheered up and grabbed my arm, pulling me as she ran to the plane.

She was so excited it made me feel like I was gonna puke.

Don't get me wrong, I always loved planes but this time I felt uneasy. My whole body was shaking ever so slightly, I felt like I was about to puke, I swear I heard my heart pumping blood, my head was spinning..

That can easily be called my worst ever flight.

After we landed I need a good 15 minutes in the bathroom to regain my composure.

"Honey, are you alright?" I heard my mom knocking "Are you sick?"

"I'm fine mama, I'll be okay" I mumbled, though I didn't feel like I was going to be okay for at last next few hours. I was also convinced my life was about to end so why bother worrying my mom. But before I cross the barrier of the airport, I didn't have to see or interact with any giants. Maybe me feeling sick was actually a gift from God to give me more time to get ready for what was about to come? As I was almost ready to go I hear my mom speaking:

"Honey, are you sure? I texted Andrew and he and Ethan are worried sick. They can drive us to a hospital"

And then I got sick again at the mention of the giants.

Oh, you might not know who is who. Andrew is my moms 45 year old husband-to-be, but I'm sure I have spoke about him already. Ethan is his older son, he was 21 back then. His younger son - Ryan - was 17.

After, what appeared to me as a minute and to my mom as an hour I finally could exit the bathroom.

My mom rushed me, saying that the boys have been waiting for us long enough. I was feeling less and less okay. I couldn't keep my emotionless demeanor. My eyes felt heavy, my heartbeat fasten as well as my breathing, my legs were shaky and I was not able to say even one word.

As I saw the enourmous glass wall behind which were a ton of giants, I felt like I was going to faint.

Or simply turn around and run.

My mom stopped in her trucks and looked at her phone. After maybe three seconds of reading what I supposed was a message form Andrew she looked into the direction of 3 giant men waiting and her eyes started to freaking sparkle and her smile grew.

She then looked at me and pointed in the direction of thoese giants, who weren't looking at us, thank God.

"That's Andrew! And Ethan and Ryan!" She said with an excited expression.

Andrew was surprisingly the shortest of the group. He had brown hair that were turning grey, a short beard, thick glasses, a blue sweater and more elegant pants. He was overall a handsome middle-aged dude, if it wasn't for the fact he was freaking enormous.

Ethan was talking with him. He had fluffy brown hair and was slightly taller than his dad. He had a few freckles and dimples on his cheeks, his smile was truthfully welcoming. His white hoodie also looked very comfy.

The tallest one was the youngest - Ryan. He had black, short hair, a pierced ear and stylist clothes. If he would have been a human, he looked like one of the popular kids that you always look up to. I really liked the belt he had, same with the rings on his fingers.

All three giants had the same eye color - hazel.

My mom grabbed me again and pulled me into the direction of the glass wall that was the last thing keeping me outside of the reach of giants. She looked so happy to see them that it was hard to recognize her. She only ever smiled at me like that before.

Soon enough, we were close to the exit of my comfort zone. My fear only grew as we were closer to the giants. It was still probably about 20 feet between us and the door when Andrews eyes rested on us. I felt the enourmous gaze and felt like I was stung. Soon both his sons eyes locked on me and my mom. She realized quickly and slowed down with the running. She then waved at them. Andrew and Ethan waved back. Ryan stood there, looking maybe a little conflicted but surely also kinda annoyed.

At that point I could feel the blood boiling in my veins. My heart ached. As well did my head. My legs were shaky. I felt like I couldn't catch my breath correctly.

If you think you're not socially awkward, three giants looking down at you with their enourmous eyes, almost scanning you as if you were an insect would change your mind right away. And if you are socially awkward like me? Well, you would feel as if you were just about to die.

My mom rushed me again, ready to exit the safe space, that only allowed humans. I walked behind her, but I wasn't as excited or as fast. Partly, becouse I wanted to be out of the giants reach for as long as I could and partly becouse I was feeling worse and worse.

To be honest, I don't know what was making me feel bad. Maybe it was all the emotion, fear, anger and all, maybe it was my mental health killing me and shouting at me that danger was close, maybe it was the horrible flight, maybe it was my body being sick. I don't know.

What I do know is, each step I took, the more powerless I felt. My legs felt to weak to hold my bodyweight.

My mom was already by the exit door when she turned around to rush me again. I was maybe 7 feet behind her, still surrounded by the enourmous gazes of those three giants, two of which were smiling. Their smiles made me sick in my stomache, but Ryan who was the only one not smiling made me feel ever worse somehow.

I totally expected my mom to yell at me to hurry up, based on how excited she seem but she just stared at me for a secound with wide worried eyes and then returned to me.

"Are you okay honey? You don't seem too good"

I wanted to answer her but it came out as a soft yelp. I thought I was going to puke again.

Faces of the giants became more serious and worried. I didn't like that expression either, to be honest.

I looked back at mom as she reached out to me and raised her hand to my shoulder for comfort probably.

"Are you scared Zack? Is that it? Because if it is, I assure you, they won't hurt us. Ever." She spoke in a soft, quiet voice. Her expression didn't show anger but she looked more understanding than any other moment of the past few weeks. She spoke with such confidence I could have believed her.

Well, I maybe even would have if I didn't faint.

Because just a moment after she spoke my vision went black and my body felt weak. The last think I remember before fainting were thoese scary gazes and my mom yelling:

"Zack!"

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

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed the 1st part!

[gerogerigaogaigar]

Phineas and Ferb fascinates me from a structural standpoint. I'll admit I haven't watched the show front to back, but I've caught the odd episode here and there and I certainly get the gist of it.

The first time I saw P&F it seemed charming but unremarkable, the second and probably third time it became obvious that it was a clever but formulaic show. At some point it clicked. Children's shows are usually formulaic, Dee Dee will destroy Dexter's invention, Elmer Fudd will fail to hunt the Wabbit, He-Man will defeat Skeletor, and Sisyphus will roll that boulder up that hill. Phineas and Ferb asks not just that we imagine Sisyphus happy, but that we imagine that he is ecstatic to see that boulder roll down the hill.

Where the status quo is an unspoken rule of older cartoons it is the explicit law of the P&F universe. There is a roadmap to every episode, you probably already know it but I will spell it out regardless. Phineas will say the phrase "I know what we're gonna do today" thus kicking off their project for the episode. Candace will try and fail to get them "busted". There will be a musical number. Meanwhile Doofenshmirtz will have made an -inator that Perry will be called upon to destroy. Perry will get caught, Doofenshmirtz will explain his plan, Perry will escape, destroy the -inator and the ensuing chaos will clean up Phineas and Ferb's backyard shenanigans just in time for their mom to get home. Ferb says something at the very end, often his only line in the whole episode. The end.

There are stock lines that must be said. "I know what we're gonna do today" "I wonder where Perry is" "Busted" "🎵Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated🎶". The show doesn't just have a cartoon status quo, the universe operates off of the laws of cartoon status quo to the extent that characters actively notice when the cycle doesn't complete correctly. The characters seemingly know that their world operates on cartoon physics, but to them it's just physics. In P&F a giant whirlwind carrying away a giant backyard amusement park is as natural as gravity.

Candace's place as the character who knows this is all insane must be a tortuous existence considering the whole world is conspired against her. Not out of a cosmic meanness but a deep thematic kindness. Candace is the only character whose intent is to cause purposeful harm and the universe will not let her get away with it.

Truly this is one of the most unerringly kind shows I've ever seen. It is unreal how much faith it puts into wordplay, running jokes, and raw absurdity to carry itself while never stepping into the realm of cartoon cruelty.

You know cartoon cruelty. It's why Tom gets punished for Jerry's actions and why the Trix rabbit can never eat his own damn cereal. At its best cartoon cruelty manifests as Ed, Edd n Eddy or the Looney Tunes short Duck Amok where there is catharsis in seeing the characters hoisted by their own petard. At its worst you get CatDog which is so intensely cruel to the character of Cat that I can't comprehend what the writers were going for.

The confident lack of irony is part of what makes Phineas And Ferb work. The show is a parade of cartoon cliches and dad jokes and it never it never winks at the viewer or lampshades how silly this is. It just has absolute faith that the corniest jokes ever really are that funny. And so they are. I actually laugh out loud every time they do the "Aren't you a little young for this?" "Yes, yes I am" bit. Maybe it's the delivery, maybe it's just the confidence in the bit. Probably a bit of both. I am smiling to myself just thinking of this dumb running joke.

But what this all amounts to is what every bit of fandom wankery amounts to. I am of course talking about shipping. For my money the best bit in the show is the romantic framing of Doofenshmirtz and Perry's rivalry. This is where the show's cartoon logic and unrepentant kindness synthesize perfectly. The homoerotic undertones of the spy/supervillain dynamic are an extremely tired observation and are usually only emphasized in an ironic sense to poke fun at pieces that never intended the gay subtext. P&F flips this joke by not being even a little bit ironic about it, but still adhering to the unspoken nature of the gag.

The end result is that Perry and Doofenshmirtz's status as a romantic couple is tacitly understood to be part of the shows status quo, but never commented on. The world of P&F is too inherently kind to be homophobic (homophobia being a key component of the joke) but it still has a joke shaped hole to fill. So it does the funniest possible thing and fills the hole with nothing. The joke is the lack of a joke. The expectation of a joke that is met with a shrug from the show's own internal logic. And that's really funny. An evil scientist and a platypus are in a loving relationship that happens to also be a hero/villain rivalry. Don't worry about it. It's not the weirdest thing happening in the tri state area I promise.

[pedro-pascal-love]

It's so sad that she loved him and Cregan loved her too, but he didn't respect her. She could have prioritized her future and married a good man, but she didn't because she kept waiting for a man who in the end will never go for her. Now she finds herself at the end of the road, alone and with no one to turn to. It is so sad because she is a totally worthwhile woman. She may not know about arts and crafts or embroidery, but she has her own good skills, the only bad thing about her is that she waited and still waits for love from a man who is not worth it, instead of prioritizing herself.

She may love Cregan, but it's time to prioritize herself. She's spent so much time living for Cregan, she doesn't know what it's like to live for herself. Besides, even though Cregan seems to love her in the same way, he doesn't seem to be willing to be with her openly as husband and wife. Besides, it would be very disrespectful if Cregan suggests her to be his mistress. That woman doesn't deserve to be anyone's mistress, not even his. Arra also doesn't deserve to be disrespected like that by her husband, who has a mistress. They are both too much woman for so little man. If Cregan decides to take a mistress, then Stark honor would be in tatters. Our girl must choose a new dream, perhaps walk other paths, choose other battles. I know it's sad, but we women must know how to choose our battles. We cannot stay and fight among ourselves for a man who says he loves you, but at the end of the day he is going to marry another woman. That only means that he only loves himself, he is not capable of loving anyone else. It is undignified and very sad that she (I say Reader like this because I can't imagine myself as her) and Arra are chasing the love of a bad man. Sometimes the right decision is not to marry the man we want, but to marry the man who loves us the most, and Cregan doesn't really love either of them.

I think it's more than clear that I want to come to blows with Cregan for getting these two girls' hopes up for nothing. I wonder if Lord Cerwyn (Cregan's canon best friend) and Lord Glover (Cregan's canon cousin on Cregan's mother's side) wouldn't like to seriously court our girl. I mean just because Cregan rejects her all the time doesn't mean other men are the same. Lord Cerwyn and Cregan were best friends since childhood, their home is only half a day's ride from Winterfell on horseback. I think it would be good for our girl to be appreciated by a man who really sees her. Summary: girls if a man promised you something and not only didn't deliver, but also started dating another woman. Leave that man, that man is not worth it, you can't go crawling around for a man's crumbs. More if that man made it clear to you that for him everything was a game, if you accept him back into your life, then you won't know when he is serious and when he is just playing with you.

Reader is definitely going through it. But don't worry, Cregan will be going through some stuff of his own too. He's not going to come out of all this unscathed.🤫