#mostly just annoying instead of a&e again

[mankillercalledbunny]

Tumblr has truly poisoned my vocabulary because I genuinely described something at work today as "this kitchen has tasted my blood and now every sharp object in it desires me carnally" instead of "I fucking cut my finger with a knife"

[whorelaud]

WRONG NUMBER, LOSER – rafe cameron (1)

a rafe cameron mini smau series

summary Rafe gets tangled in a complex love-hate relationship when shooting his shot at a party, merely for him to end up with the wrong number instead, leading to a new beginning, or so he assumed, unaware of who really was behind the screen; his next door neighbor, whom he'd define his sworn enemy.  contains neighbor!reader, enemies (?) to lovers, wrong number trope, mostly texts, sexual jokes, shameless flirting, loser!rafe, lots of tension, attempt at humor

NAVIGATION. main masterlist; 01 ¡ 02

Unknown Number: Hello there, I don't know if you remember but I asked for your number earlier

Unknown Number: I know I’m moving rather fast, but I couldn't help myself you’re too pretty ;)

Unknown Number: I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner. Only if you're down of course ❤️ 

You: im sorry who? 

You: oh that red heart you must rlly like her

Unknown Number: What? What do you mean? 

Unknown Number: Is this not Brian? 

You: this aint no brian

You: no way did brian turn you down 

You: Wowwww very low of her im so sorry king 

Unknown Number: You don't know that

Unknown Number: She probably mistyped one of the digits by accident 

You: Dawgggg ☠️☠️

You: no way you believe that

You: she told you her name was brian what did you expect

Unknown Number: Hey what’s wrong with that

Unknown Number: My dad’s name is Brian 

You: woahhh :o

You: is it actually 

Unknown Number: No I made that up

You: Haha Very Funny. 

Unknown Number: This sucks

Unknown Number: Why am I even talking to you

Unknown Number: I thought what we had was real wow I’m offended

Unknown Number: Who would even think of rejecting me 

You: smb get this guy’s phone before i beat his ass ☠️☠️

Unknown Number: Bruh

Unknown Number: I’m already going through enough can’t you at least be nice

You: the audacity of you to say that after disturbing MY peace 

You: you got the wrong number loser

You: i'm no brian, i think ive made that clear. im sorry some girl rejected you, im sure she had her reasons, as ive seen enough!!! but yeah, i think now’s a good time to delete my number and never contact me again 👍 

Unknown Number: This is my cellular device 

Unknown Number: I’ll do what I want 

You: … ermmm 😅

You: is this your way of hinting you still wanna talk to me? 

Unknown Number: Maybe

You: damn

You: youre one clingy bitch

You: I see Why Sh e rejected You. 

Unknown Number: She didn't reject me. 

You: And I didn't fail my calculus exam. 

Unknown Number: What? That doesn't even make sense

You: wah wah cry me a river

You: youre really annoying has anyone ever told you that

Unknown Number: Plenty actually 

You: love a self aware king

Unknown Number: Why do you keep assuming im a man

You: no woman texts like you 

Unknown Number: Is that supposed to hurt my feelings

You: take it as you will

Unknown Number: Ah man

Unknown Number: What should I refer to you as

You: that shouldn't be any of your concerns???

You: who said im contacting you after this. 

Unknown Number: Me. 

You: nah fuck that im blocking you

You: dealing with a lousy bitch of a neighbor has alr done numbers on me i do not want to associate with you in any way or form.

Unknown Number: WHAT DONT BLOCK ME

Unknown Number: I am in no way or form associated with your lousy bitch of a neighbor. Do not block me please. 

You: How do you Know That. 

You: You Seem Just as Annoying as Him. 

Unknown Number: I just noticed 

Unknown Number: Are you mocking me? 

You: ?? why would you Assume That

Unknown Number: You are 

Unknown Number: See you did it just now

You: Nahhhh this fool is crazy We Assuming things Now?

Unknown Number: Bruh 

Unknown Number: You’re so mean

You: glad you noticed that

Unknown Number: im into it

You: what

You: pardon me

You: am i seeing things

Unknown Number: Definitely 

You: bye

You: im done

You: i no longer want to be apart of this conversation 

Unknown Number: Ugh

You: ugh??? UGH???????

Unknown Number: Whatever 🙄 can you just tell me your name at least?

You: no

Unknown Number: Why

You: im not telling a random stranger online what my name is

Unknown Number: That’s just not a good reason 

Unknown Number: Fine I’ll come up with something to call you then

You: uhh??? i never agreed to any of this

Unknown Number: Sugar is cute

You: what the fuck

You: that is diabolical (get it cause its sugar) don't you dare fucking call me that

 Unknown Number: Sugar it is then

You: stop

You: STOP. 

You: NO

You: how did that even come to mind

Unknown Number: Cause you’re as sweet as sugar, baby ;) 

You: youre doing this on purpose aren't you 

You: including you in my suicide note

Unknown Number: Have fun doing that

Unknown Number: You don't even know my name sugar

You: Dtop It. 

You: It feels like You're flirtinf With Me. 

You: I Do Not like That. 

Unknown Number: Deal with it. 

You: no

You: is this you admitting you're head over heels in love with me

Unknown Number: Definitely 

You: im leaving

Unknown Number: Joking hahah haba Ha ha

You: i actually have to leave

You: i own a needy cat who demands my attention

Unknown Number: Oh okay

Unknown Number: Have fun with your cat 

You: thanks boo

You: it was (not) fun chatting with you i guess… 

Unknown Number: It was a pleasure chatting with you sugar

Unknown Number: I look forward to more in the future 

You: die

You: it feels like youre mocking me. 

Unknown Number: I am not you.

You: hey whats wrong w me… 

Unknown Number hearted your message!

a/n hi!!! hehehe lmk what u think this was so much fun 2 write! dk if im making a taglist or not but we'll see, this is chapter one for now :p i also wanna make a masterlist but idk GRRAHH well see

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

CHROLLO FLUFF RELATIONSHIP ALPHABET

sfw (safe for work)!!! no smut in this one.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Chrollo and affection are like cats and sleep—they simply just match. Chrollo will show you affection in mostly words of affirmation and acts of service, though he’d do basically anything to show his never ending affection for you.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Chrollo is like that calm and yet brutally honest friend that we all need in our lives. That friend who will give you actual advice instead of just saying what we want to hear, and yet he does it in the most polite and civil way possible. He’s the best friend who will support chaotic ideas but will also hold you back if he knows you’re going too far.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Chrollo isn’t exactly the type to initiate cuddles. As romantic as he is, physical affection isn’t his strong suit. He doesn’t mind it, but he prefers it if you initiate the cuddles instead of him. If he does cuddle though, Chrollo prefers being the big spoon.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Chrollo dreams of settling down with you and living the rest of his life in peace—maybe even in Meteor City. He knows it’s a far fetched dream and something that will probably never happen, but he still thinks about it often. And Chrollo is basically a housewife when it comes to household chores. For some reason this guy knows how to do anything.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Bold of you to assume that Chrollo would ever break up with his partner. He’s the type of guy to take “till death do us part” completely seriously—and you love him for that, honestly.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

It completely depends. If he knows that you’re perfect for him, then Chrollo will marry you in a heartbeat. If you’re more on the annoying side, Chrollo will have to think it through a bit more before deciding to marry you or not.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Chrollo is the most gentle lover ever, and I stand by that. If you’re mad, he’ll coax you in such a soft way that will honestly make you forget why you were mad in the first place. If you start crying, Chrollo will hold you in his arms and hold them while gently stroking your hair while whispering sweet things until you stop.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Again, Chrollo isn’t too fond of physical affection. If you hug him, then he’ll just wrap his arms tightly around you a bit stiffly. However, if it’s something cliché and romantic, like a meeting after years of separation, Chrollo will do the cheesy twirling you around in his arms thing.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Chrollo would want to save it for a special moment, such as an intimate moment under the moonlight where he’s gently holding your face and whispering the words.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Chrollo and jealousy is a strange thing. He does get jealous a good amount, he just doesn’t show it outwardly. However, if you’re getting a bit too close with someone else, Chrollo will sneaking wrap his arm around your waist and stare directly into the person’s eyes with a threatening smile and say “My love, who’s this?”

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Chrollo’s kisses are soft and passionate—possibly the most romantic one could ever experience. Chrollo likes to kiss you anywhere on your face—especially your forehead—, your hands, and during especially intimate moments, on your neck.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Chrollo is conflicted when it comes to children. On one hand, their innocence and purity intrigues him but also scares him; how could they make such rash decisions without overthinking it? On the other hand, Chrollo has a bit of weakness for kids. After all, his whole backstory is revolved around endangered children (manga readers, if you know you know.)

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Chrollo doesn’t particularly enjoy mornings, but he isn’t overly grouchy or anything. Just tired and much less smiley. Expect a fresh cup of tea, some cuddles that you initiated, and some honey sweet yet genuine compliments from Chrollo that almost make your sugarless tea taste sweet.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights spent with Chrollo are so very comforting, especially after a long day. A vanilla and lily scented candle in your shared room, Chrollo reading you a book as you both finish a warm long bath, and once you fall asleep, a gentle “I love you” and forehead kiss.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It depends on how long he’s known you. If you grew up with him, especially if you went through the Troupe backstory (Chapter 395-397) with him, then there’s really not much to tell you about, but he’ll be much more open with you if something’s wrong. If he met you later in life, he’ll have to make sure that you’re the right person before revealing bits and pieces of information about him at a time:

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Chrollo and anger are like water and oil. You never know when he’s mad because he’s so passive aggressive about it. However, if he’s really agitated, then he will let some snarky comments out that makes it obvious that he’s annoyed and that you should probably stop whatever behavior is bothering him as soon as you can.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Oh boy. If there was a quiz about you, Chrollo would pass as if it’s the most easy thing in the world. Every single question would be answered within 0.5 seconds because he remembers every little detail about you. Whether it was how itchy the pale blue dress you wore on your 18th date together was, or how cheap and well your black heels fitted you on your 4th date was, he remembers it all.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Chrollo truly appreciates those quiet days where he doesn’t have an upcoming heist, you’re not busy with anything, and you can just help each other out with mundane day to day house chores—the day full of genuine laughter. It’s boring and simple, he knows that, but at this point in his 26-year-long-life, it’s the most comforting thing Chrollo knows.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

If it’s something small and stupid, Chrollo isn’t too particularly protective. However, the moment you’re in a bit of danger, Chrollo will—without hesitation—protect you at all costs, no matter how much Troupe effort it takes. Chrollo doesn’t really want to be protected—not by you, at least. Chrollo thinks that it should be the other way around. He should be one protecting you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Oh gosh—Chrollo’s going all out. I mean, he has the money, why wouldn’t he? Bouquets and bouquets and bouquets of your favorite flowers, little things that remind him of you, expensive jewelry, the most luxurious 5 star restaurants…you’re lucky as fuck, you know?

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Chrollo doesn’t really have any bad “habits”, but there are a few mental issues with him. His bipolar issues can get annoying sometimes—one second he’s the cold and ruthless Phantom Troupe leader who only smiles cruelly, the next second he’s the teasing and immature guy fighting people way older than him and cockily asking “who would win” like a child, the next second he’s the sweet gentleman who treats you like a princess.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Chrollo doesn’t care too much about his looks. He’s self aware that he’s handsome and that he looks more congenitally attractive with his hair down, he just doesn’t care. In his opinion, true love shouldn’t be decided by appearance.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Oh boy. Chrollo basically tells you every night that you complete him, that without you he’d be lost, that you’re his other half, that if you ever were to leave him that he would fall apart, that he needs you to live. So yes, he’d feel very incomplete without you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

If he were to ever have TikTok, all of the “Booktok Girlies” would be obsessed with him and he’d hate it.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Chrollo hates, and I mean HATE, people who are cruel and inhumane to children for no reason (Phantom Troupe backstory mentioned???). Chrollo knows that he’s being hypocritical after what he’s done to the Kurta Clan children, but he has very different expectations of himself versus other people.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Chrollo definitely has partial insomnia. Have you seen the circles under his eyes in the 1999 version? And how in the opening scene of episode 54 of the 2011 version Chrollo was the only one who wasn’t sleeping in the Troupe???😭 If he sleeps, he’ll still be very on guard. The first time you guys shared a bed and you wrapped your arms around him from behind in your sleep, Chrollo literally almost jumped, preparing for an enemy attack, until he realized that it was just you.

[deadchannelradio]

attention economy

E, m/m, pwp, character study, humor, 10k

The sound of the brush against the boot consumes the next couple of minutes, hypnotic. Dick finds he's leaned in, far closer than he'd meant to. He sighs, sits back deliberately- he's not that into Midnighter. This isn't even something he's into in the first place. He's bored. This isn't a come on. The leather's started to shine like glass. He's losing the plot of this whole thing again, staring at the shoe, at Midnighter's hands working it over. He wonders what that brush would feel like against his face, what it would feel like if Midnighter decided to work him over like that instead, to focus all of his attention on him. Midnighter holds it out for him to inspect, the movement breezing the smell of leather over his face. "Gorgeous," Dick says, finding he really means it. Midnighter grins at him, expression going lecherous and intent. Maybe Dick's is coming on to him, somehow. He keeps his eye roll at himself internal. This would hardly be the weirdest thing he's done in his life. - DAILY REPORT: Had sex with the Midnighter on an impromptu side mission collecting dangerous technology. Got belted. Strengthened ally bond. Did not receive any new information as a result of intercourse.

Mild bootblacking fetish, a little bit of general leather tomfoolery (barely), bratting/brat taming, throatfucking, boot licking, physical fighting midsex for a laff, whipping (belt), generalized sadomasochism, all for your enjoyment on ao3. yay!

Dick and Midnighter delight me to no end esp in spyral era. Just two guys at their absolute worst both thinking this is just how the other one is. Which in Midnighter’s case it mostly is. Like he’s having a pretty regular midlife crisis. Dick however is having The Worst Eighteen Months Of My Life Fucking Holy Fucking Shitting Jesus Christ This Is Worse Than When My Parents Died. Midnighter’s like lol this guy is so bubbly and annoying and yet uptight and bitchy he needs to get laiddddd. Meanwhile dick, who hasn’t seen any of his loved ones in 10 months and has been bipolar 1 rapid cycling the whole time and has been using technology designed to make you lose your mind is in the corner like “if bruce doesn’t reply to my latest email in the next 48 hours I Will Kill Myself.” Like midnighter. Midnighter hes suicidal midnighter. Midnighter stop poking him. Red Fucking Alert.

[writingjourney]

grabby hands // secondo

1.5k word snapshot, secondo x f!oc manon (named but mostly undescript this time), some fluff, a lot of spice including hands in particular, rated: E, 18+

─── ⛧ ✦ ⛧ ───

The sheets in the abbey just outside of Parma have been washed one to many times, clumsily patched holes, the white now more of a stale grey. Manon has never known a sweeter feeling than having them wrapped around her tired body, her head resting on Secondo’s chest. He’s lit two black candles on the windowsill, their flickering lights dancing along the walls with every draft that presses inside. As always, their first day at a new location has been long and tiresome.

He only gives a low grumble when she slides her hand underneath his shirt, just like most nights when he decides it’s too cold to sleep bare. Drawn to his soft belly, the hair that covers his whole torso, the feeling of his warm skin against her palm, fingers carding through thick curls, up and up until she can feel his chest, the rhythmic rise and fall as he takes steady breath after steady breath.

“Manon,” he warns, as he always does, amusement dripping into the name.

“Mhm?”

He doesn’t reply when she thumbs at his nipples, something he’s rather sensitive to, though she can feel a muscle in his throat jump. His hand drags her hip further across his lap, resting on her bent knee with spread fingers. She smiles against his neck.

“Grabby hands,” he remarks.

“Says you.”

He huffs. She thinks about how he casually cradled her whole breast in his hand hand all through last night, snoring against her neck and sweating against her back, waking her with his other hand pressing between her thighs. If she accused him, though, he would simply say his usual phrase. I am Papa. Which somehow absolves him of everything.

She’s content to rest like this, though, it seems, Secondo is not. His hand begins to wander, innocently at first, stroking along her thigh, full-palmed, his warmth sinking into her skin. After a moment his fingers toy with the seam of her sleeping shorts, wandering underneath the loose fabric to cup her ass. He squeezes, spreading her apart, feeling how she moves.

“Grabby hands,” she whispers.

Secondo laughs.

He leaves her be for a while, then, content to just rest his hands on her. Manon’s eyes have already closed. As always, she is easy to succumb to sleep, especially when sharing a bed with him. She can feel her palm getting sweaty against his chest, barely tying her to the present, but then she’s wide awake again as his fingers dip lower, grazing her cunt. No accident, he does it again, fingertips exploring her unceremoniously.

“What are you doing?” she whispers, voice already tinged with sleep.

Naturally, he doesn’t reply. His fingers part her, spread her open, playing with the wetness that has already begun to pool. At first she tries to hide her little moans but it seems to annoy him so much that he lets his middle finger dip inside of her, stealing the sounds he wants to hear. He’s deft, always, and when he can’t reach her well enough he squeezes his hand between her leg and his body instead.

Manon moves to sit up but his free hand grabs her elbow, holding her in place underneath his shirt.

”It stays,” he says. “If you pull it out I will stop.”

Her cheeks are aflame. She sinks back down, spreads her fingers, a silent confirmation to his order. Secondo hums, then his fingers are teasing her again. He allows her to hide her face against his neck and after a moment he lets go of her arm, gently stroking her brow instead.

“Brava,” he whispers, moving onto her hair, rhythmic circles against her scalp.

Her head is somewhere else entirely now, as though she has entered the space that only Secondo occupies. It is one that allows her to let go so safely, not just guided by his patience but by the way he soothes the very ache in her bones. Sleep is a far-away concept. This is better than unconsciousness, it is a tether to her own self.

“You had a long day, my dove,” he says, finally circling her clit. “Will you dream of me tonight?”

Her lips part, though the whimper comes from her throat. His hand feels so warm against her mound, so large that it is all she can attune her senses to. Then he parts her once again, rubs patterns against her entrance with two fingers, lazily, pressing deeper and deeper to open her up. It is not enough, though there is only so much movement left in her, and her pelvis rolls slowly forward to take more. Secondo chuckles, a sound she has only ever heard from him when he elicits the exact reaction from her he was expecting.

“You have not answered me, Manon,” he complains, though it is an observation more so than a demand. He is not here to sanction tonight.

“I will,” she whispers. “What else is there for me to dream of after your reckless torture of my every sense?”

“Torture? What an odd choice of words while you're dripping into my hand.”

“I don’t mean tonight,” she clarifies. “You have a habit of haunting me.”

It earns her another rumble from his chest, no doubt showing how very pleased he is, though she is not sure if he understands the extent of this statement. Is he aware how he lingers on her? Traces of him, fractures squeezed into every crack of her, his scent in her clothes, skin raw, purpled, shaped like his mouth, paint stains on her white blouses, fingerprints on her hips, her thighs, his voice echoing in her ears for hours. And his face, in countless expressions, memories taped to her brain like polaroid pictures, labelled in black ink, his name, every word he ever whispered to her, a dictionary of his language.

When his fingers press inside of her she knows they will leave another mark, a feeling that she will be chasing for the rest of her life. When he fucks her this slowly she can feel every knuckle, every single movement of his joints. Pleasure is an odd word for something that her body is starving for, an appetite he inspired in her, unlike anything she’s known before. Secondo carries her through it, starving her, feeding her, consuming her in turn.

All she has to anchor herself to is his chest now, leaving fingerprints of her own. Eyes squeezed shut, mouth opened against his neck, moans that fog against his skin. The ball of his hand presses against her core, every roll of his wrist met by her hips. He whispers in Italian, not that she understands a word in her state, but the syllables sound sweet, drawn-out, a caress of his voice against her hear. She clenches, gasps, her body shuddering against his that is so very calm, barely out of breath while she struggles to take in air.

A beat passes. She comes to, hips still jerking against his hand, his fingers lazily pushing against her from inside. His lips linger on her forehead and she notices that he’s angled her face away from his neck.

“Breathe, my dove,” he whispers.

She sucks in air, notices how her fingers are still grasping at his chest, though he doesn’t show any signs of pain. Even so she’s not eager to retract them, stroking over his pectoral muscles instead, that odd sensation of soft skin underneath coarse hair she’s become so addicted to.

Secondo removes his fingers slowly, easing her out of the sensation. It is a loss, of sorts, though quickly forgotten when she finally allows her hand to wander down across his belly. She can feel him inside of his pants, not as unaffected as he otherwise appears, the soft linen warm against her palm where he strains against it. She thinks she’d like to use her hands as well, just as gentle and slow. Only he carefully wraps her up in his and pulls it away.

“No need,” he whispers. “I am content.”

He must feel her frown against his lips because once again he chuckles, as though she is so predictable that he finds it greatly amusing. When she lifts her head to look at him his brow twitches. He’s not as subtle as he thinks he is.

“Don’t you want to feel me?” Manon whispers, voice still half-choked from how hard she’s been clenching her jaw.

Not the question he expected this time. His eyes soften, hand brushing back the hair that has fallen into her face. “What if you fall asleep and twist it off, hm?”

She rolls herself fully on top of him, kisses stamped all over his jaw, down his neck, back up to his cheek. “I don’t have to use my grabby hands, you silly man.”

Her heart swells when he gives another tired, chest-heavy laugh, amused until she’s kissing it off his face under his grumbled protests. She easily sinks down on him, his knees pulled up, hands encouraging her to move at a slow, lazy pace that will carry them both to sleep. The greyed sheets have fallen off of them, but the candles still flicker, orange light cast over each of their movements. Secondo’s eyes, half-lidded, are intent on staying on her until he can't keep them open anymore. It won't matter, she'll be asleep long before him, and she suspects that he doesn't truly mind at all.

─── ⛧ ✦ ⛧ ───

as always thank you for indulging me and my oc shenanigans ♡

more manondo here if you so fancy!

[red-room-studi0]

Here's my TurboTime Dev oc

About damn time I actually introduced him, for some reason I had zero motivation to post this guy. But now i'm finally showing him off cuz one, I needed too, and two he's gonna be in another au lol.

SO. Me and my two friends @dani-be-existing @sunn-e-bunare made this au called Deadstock about three game developers that are in a Poly relationship (we call it a polycule lol). And they go through absolute hell (who would've guessed).

So Tucker Tatum is one of the two game Devs of TurboTime, The other Dev being Kensuke ←(link to Ken's character intro). He is a fucking idiot and a loser, Think of Grunkle Stan and Turbo in one person but worse. Yeah, that's Tucker.

Bro has some bad anger issues and hates kids. Which sucks for him cuz Ken and his wife have a kid and they both hate each other (Ain't no way this grown ass man has beef with a 9 year old 😭😭😭).

Tucker is the Game coder/programmer while Ken was the pixel art and visual game designer.

Tucker being the loser he is he vents in his game coding (Uh Oh, shouldn't have done that Tucker).

One day Tucker and Ken got into a heated argument and then Tucker just left the room leaving Ken alone. After left the house and grabbed a couple of beers to calm his nerves, Tucker came back to the house and into the room to apologize and share a drink or two but to his horror all he sees is the games cabinet screen shattered and covered in blood. From what it seems like... Ken was forcefully pulled into the screen from some unknown force.

Even worse, Kens wife Haru walks into the scene only seeing the bloody shattered screen and Tucker by it. Of course, she accuses Tucker of killing her husband and is incredibly upset (I mean who wouldn't). Tucker tried to explain but she had already called the cops and she just wouldn't let Tucker talk.

Tucker had been detained and taken in. The court statements came in and he was found not guilty due to no evidence that Tucker had killed Ken. But he did have to serve some time in jail for not paying his past due payments (classic Tucker).

Tucker attempted to to call Haru with the only call time he had to try and explain things to her but she never answered. So instead Tucker called his next door neighbor and asked her to bail him out. She doesn't like Tucker all that much but Tucker was being an annoying little shit pleading to be bailed out and she finally agreed. But Tucker owed her $200 back.

Tucker somehow got hired to work at a car dealership (that mostly sells trucks) and had to make that money quick (She would not leave him alone till she got paid back).

As for the Cabinet that is covered in blood with the screen shattered and is evidence to try and figure out what happed to ken... Tucker took it (he's living with his neighbor now cuz his home is a literal crime scene), cleaned the blood, fixed the screen and thought it would be a GOOD IDEA TO STILL SELL THE GAME CUZ HE'S SO FUCKING STUPID HE LITERALLY TAMPERD WITH EXTREMELY IMPORTANT EVIDENCE AND SOLD IT TO LITWAK (LITWAK HAS NO IDEA MIND U)

The police found out that the Cabinet was gone and they have no idea where Tucker is living so they wouldn't be able to find him with no clues of his whereabouts and have no idea where the cabinet is. (They stopped to care at this point cuz they're lazy and stupid)

So the case went cold after a while and Tucker just decided to live the rest of his life with his neighbor (cuz he's not risking living inside his own home again in case someone brings the case up again, and trauma. Also he had to pay rent at this point or his neighbor will kick his ass.)

There is more to the story but I'll leave that for later or if Dani or Sunny wanna talk more about it.

[thyln4gf]

505

✞ Once again, Im back with the short little blurbs! This time, theyre rather cute and adorable, and are about some of my favourite drivers, a song assigned for each. (I have synesthesia).

✞ Word count - 2,8k

✞ Drivers included - Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Max Verstappen, Daniel Ricciardo, Logan Sargeant, Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, Lewis Hamilton, Sebastian Vettel, Jenson Button.

�� (P.S. - lemme know if you dont see any of your favs. Im more than happy to write something <3)

Lando Yeswins - 505, arctic monkeys

"No!" Your shriek rings out through the air of the somewhat empty room, quickly followed by both of your giggles, as Lando has launched himself into you, picking you up. The man has missed you so, so much. He didnt even think it was possible. Hed spend his free time with looking at pictures of you, wishing that he could feel that skin against his, and... smell it, really. Now, that he has finally gotten the chance...

Your back makes contact with the couch, Lando still clinging to you tightly, and just plopping on top of you. He buries his face into your chest, drawing a deep breath to take in your scent... But you smelled like... him??

"Baby... have you been living in my clothes?" He asks, amusement laced into his tone. His face was still buried right where his favourite place was, though.

Silence from your end. One awkward chuckle later, you burst into another fit of giggles, followed by the heat that rose to your cheeks. You werent so sure if it was the man making you blush, or him being a damn human radiator doing the trick. Either way, you didnt mind - the golden retriever goofball of a man was excited to close the distance between you two again. A little too excited, even.

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Oscar Leclerc Piastri - teenage dream, katy perry

Him. You. Both of you. A lot of people have called you the dream team, and you have seen a lot of jealous tweets. Posts about your relationship in general - people seemed to be suckers for the childhood friends to lovers trope. So much that you could barely keep track of them anymore.

You have incorporated scrolling through the socials, and hunting for cute memes to annoy him, straight into your routine. His dms from you were filled with various kinds of those, mostly a spectrum of cat memes. Yes, a spectrum. You seemed to be unhinged enough to even ask for fun time alone through those. And, to be honest? They always worked on him. Always.

This time, it was no different - you were curled up on the couch, Oscar laying his head on your stomach, trying to nap. You could be seen scrolling, and... yep. Looking for some memes.

You find something else, though, your heart melting at the sight. You cant even hold the 'awwww' in, as much as you wanted to...

"Huh?" Oscar croaks out, rising from his slumber. All he heard was you making some sort of noise, and he instantly realized that he was about to get a phone right up his face. However... he slowly looks up and sees you... crying?

He doesnt say anything, but scoots up slightly instead, his face landing right by your neck. He looks at the little screen... Only to see a picture of two small children, both in race suits, both giggling on a makeshift podium. He quickly comes to the realisation that hes looking at both of you, at one of your first karting competitions together. And its all it takes to make a tear roll down his cheek as well. A happy tear. Hes quick to start kissing yours away, not even hesitating. Your skin tingled at the gentle contact, and you softly chuckle. Thats exactly what he wanted to achieve. A laugh out of those pretty lips of yours.

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Max Verstappen - im yours sped up, isabel larosa

As tough as this man looked out there, in the face of the cameras... he turned into a whiny puddle whenever he was wrapped in your arms. Something about you made him melt each and every time, making him feel safer than ever. Is that because you usually used rather masculine fragrances and smelled like a dad that he never really had? Maybe, maybe...

He was getting his daily dose of cuddles in. This time it was more of a comfort than it has ever been - he didnt do good, and didnt even finish the race. He felt awful.

"Are you going to leave me now?" You suddenly hear a muffled voice, coming from a certain mans face, currently getting buried into your chest.

"Pardon?" You respond, a confused chuckle following the single-word sentence. He wasnt insecure... as far as you knew.

"I said what i said, Liefje... now answer." the man groans, almost making you chuckle again - he was awfully adorable at the moment.

"No, baby, im yours. For life. Have you forgotten?" your voice reminds him, as you slip one of your hands away from his waist, wiggling the fingers not too far from his eyes. He feels you pulling your hand away, the action making him look up slightly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. That quickly melts away as he sees the engagement ring on your finger, one that he proposed to you with a few days ago.

"Right... i still havent gotten used to that. Sorry, mijn mooie vrouw." He responds, a small, tired smile slipping onto his lips, and you cant help but give him a small peck. You might be a master at making this man blush, but he had the exact same effect on you as well.

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Daniel Ricciardo - Iris, the goo goo dolls

Evenings spent with him on the porch were your all time favourite, easily - especially if it included watching the sunset. In that case, you had two incredibly gorgeous views to rest your eyes upon. And he definitely knew you were staring at him, instead of the pretty orange colours dancing across the sky - he just pretended not to see.

You two were cuddling on the beach chair - your body in his lap, your back to his chest. Hes currently zoned out just a little, honestly. He has adopted the habit of adoring the pretty clouds from you, and pointing out all the interesting shapes. This time, though, you were quicker than him, and an excited 'ooohhh!' coming from your mouth lets him know exactly that.

"Look! That one looks like a honey badger!" you excitedly blurt out, trying to point at the shape with your finger. He follows, and quickly sees what you wanted to show him. The cloud, indeed, is honey badger shaped. You earn a hearty chuckle and one of his grins that you loved oh so much. Yes, those grins.

His arms tighten around your waist, his lips not being able to resist from leaving a trail of kisses on the back of your neck, eventually landing on the back of your head. And you didnt need much more from him - you knew that it was his way of thanking you. By making you feel all warm and giddy inside.

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Logan Sargeant - american teenager, ethel cain

Spring has just started rolling around, leaving you to deal with your allergies. Its not like it was something new, or something serious, but it annoyed you nonetheless.

You two had a date that you were looking forward to all week, but suddenly, you felt like you couldnt live two minutes without having to blow your nose. Great. Logan noticed your mood immediately, so he had offered to watch a movie at home instead. You didnt resist much - you wanted to spend some time with your man, after all.

After cuddling up to him on the couch... You silently thanked for the ridiculous misery of your fate - feeling his body right by yours felt way better than spending time outside. Hearing him quietly breathe by you left you almost ecstatic, the warm air brushing by somewhere on your body, and as of the current case, your hair. Speaking of hair - he liked planting those little kisses to the crown of your head whenever you had your back to him. Almost just as much as looking at your backside.

These little moments reminded you just how far you two have come - it sometimes still felt like you were a pair of awkward teenagers, trying desperately to get over yourself to talk to each other. You still tease him about it, honestly - watching the popular guy at the school blush and giggle was the favourite sight of many.

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

Charles Leclerc - k., cigarettes after sex

"Chéri, look! Thats cute, no?" You heard Charles come into the kitchen, cooing at something on his phone. You didnt have the time to turn around and look at him, honestly. So he was forced to come up right behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, his palm softly brushing by your stomach while in the process. You couldnt help but wonder...

1...

2...

Yep, here it is. A gentle kiss to the corner of your jaw. You cant help but chuckle as his lips make contact with your skin, pleasure shooting down your spine almost immediately. He usually stops at one, but he seems to be in a playful mood today - because he doesnt, and continues to trace a line, almost connecting the dots on all your little moles and freckles.

"What is it?" You ask him with a chuckle, trying to distract him. However, you just dont get an answer. Just a phone getting shoved almost right into your face. The video that he wanted to show unpauses, and a scene of a cute puppy running around could be seen. Your heart instantly melts.

Charles seems to notice, because he already looks like a kid on christmas morning.

"Can we... adopt him? I even have a name!" He blurts out excitedly, making you chuckle again. You knew of his passion for dogs... so one wouldnt hurt, right?

You didnt even get to reply before he launched himself into a rant about why getting a dog right now would be a great idea. You just knew that you were going to spend like an hour, just listening to him talk. But you didnt mind - you enjoyed the sound of his voice, and watching the way he speaks with his hands whenever hes excited. It was truly an awfully adorable sight to witness every time.

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Carlos Sainz - good luck, babe!, chappell roan

He had a small ritual of hugging you before his races - he fully, firmly, and truly believed that hes not going to achieve any good results if he doesnt. And, look - it was true, so far. The win in Singapore? In his head, it was all because you initiated a hug that day. His arms had lingered on you for a little longer than they should have been for you two being just friends, but its not like you two minded, at all. You actually craved him and his touch. You craved to feel those hands around you, and to hear his voice murmuring something into your ear. You wanted, no, needed to feel the scent and the warmth of him being so close.

So you never really protested against his idea. In all honesty, it was the most desperate move that someone has ever tried to hit on you with. The most adorable one as well.

If you thought that you were going crazy from him invading every single nook and cranny of your mind... You should have taken a look into his. You and him both knew of the rumours floating around the internet, and all the fans almost straight up telling you two to just make out already. And that has almost happened, and multiple times - one of you always ended up awkwardly pulling away, though. Having him as a friend felt good, but you were sure that having him as a lover would feel like heaven.

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Lewis Hamilton - older, isabel larosa

"Thank you, love." His voice floats through the air of his drivers room, effortlessly reaching your ears, making you blush. Just a little. You had passed him his water bottle - his hands were far too busy with your hips, caressing and squeezing them with great care. His legs were spread a little, you positioned in between them. Yet, it still didnt seem like it was close enough for him - he kept trying to pull you closer, almost desperately tugging on the material of your jeans. A hand of his was now occupied with the water bottle, so he finds that as an opportunity to wrap the other around you fully, bringing you closer, once again. You almost fall over, but you catch yourself with a hand on the wall right besides his head. Helping Lewis train sometimes did help, huh?

"Hey there, easy! I couldve fallen right on top of you!" You had mentioned out loud in mock annoyance, trying hard to keep a chuckle at bay. It was hard to do so, though, because you could see a grin appearing on his lips. No, onto his whole face - the entirety of it would light up whenever he smiled or laughed, melting your heart each and every time.

"Do you prefer to be under me then?" He murmurs as a tease, leaning in to give you a chaste kiss on your neck. He knew that it was one of your ticklish spots - so he had adopted the habit of placing the gentlest kisses of them all right there. They never failed to make you feel flustered and giggly, making sure to spread a blush all over your face. Lewis was just secretly happy that you never seemed to notice his own blush, just like right now.

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Sebastian Vettel - too sweet, hozier

You were sat at your desk in your home office, working late. Again. All sorts of papers were scattered all around you, a pretty decent amount crumpled up and thrown aside as well. At first, youd aim for the trashcan, getting all giddy whenever youd make a shot. But the more time passed, the more you didnt care. You found yourself thinking of the fact that your husband wouldnt be really pleased at your current decision, and you being grateful that hes currently away for a few days. And you just happily continue focusing on your work.

You had focused a little too much, perhaps. Because you didnt hear Sebastian returning home, didnt notice him opening your office door either. You only did that when he spoke up, startling you a decent amount.

"Brought you coffee, schatz." He said, quietly walking to appear by your side, placing the mug down. You smiled at him in appreciation, tilting your head up to look at him. Right as you do so, you get surprised with a forehead kiss. You cant fight the smile that wanted to appear onto your lips, going back to your work. You fully expect Sebastian to protest, to go ahead and try to pull you away from the work. But what does he do instead? He lets his hands meet with your tense shoulders, and gets to gently massaging them, slowly kneading out the knots. No words said. A quiet hum escapes your throat. You two didnt need any words to communicate, really. He understood you on a deeper level, just like you understood him. Isnt it sweet?

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Jenson Button - one of the girls, the weeknd

"Twirl around again?" Jenson requests, making a spinning motion in the air with two of his fingers. You had decided to make him watch your fashion show after the shopping spree of today, just like you usually did. Every time. You thought hed be a little annoyed at you for forcing him to sit down on the couch, basically pushing him backwards right onto it. It was far, far from it - hed even encourage you to go shopping sometimes. 'Honey, its our anniversary next Saturday. Dont you want a new dress?', 'Go get something new, we're going out tomorrow', and 'i think you need to refresh your wardrobe' were phrases that you heard pretty often. And not for the reasons youd think - this man just truly and genuinely enjoyed seeing you smile, and the enthusiasm that would possess your whole being when it came to showing him. You liked to call him a simp, but in his books, that was just being reasonable.

You gladly fulfill his request with a giggle, spinning around to let the skirt of the dress flow around. This one had a great score on both of the 'spinny' and 'shiny' scales, which he learned from you pretty fast. However, he sees you suddenly stop. The surprise on his face is almost as big as yours. However, you quickly gasp and start giggling again, shoving your hands into... some pockets?

"It has pockets!" You excitedly blurt out, turning both of the pockets inside out to show him. That earns a chuckle out of him. You play around with the pockets some more, and start spinning again. As much as Jenson adored your silliness, sometimes. Hed worry about you bumping into things... and it would happen pretty often. But he was always there to baby you, placing gentle kisses around the spot you had just hurt yourself.

[steddiebingo]

Congrats @thisapplepielife on completing our 12 Days of Christmas Challenge!

--

Prompt: Soulmate

You're a Fucking Dickhead | Ao3

Rated T, wc 1,894, No Warnings, Tags: Soulmate AU, College AU, Modern AU, Meet Cute, Or: Meet Ugly, Soulmarks, Invisible Strings, Hijinks Ensue, The Universe Had to Work Overtime on These Two

Steve pushes his sleeves up, realizes, and pushes them right back down despite it being sweltering in this auditorium. As much as he prides himself on being confident in his own skin, on being exactly who he is, no apologies, this little three inch line of text scrawled on his arm is the bane of his whole existence. He hates it.

Prompt: Krampus

Same Time Next Year? | Ao3

Rated E, wc 2,400, No Warnings, Tags: Monsterfucking, Spanking, Modern AU, Steve "Monsterfucker" Harrington, Krampus Eddie Munson, Size Difference, Immortality, Rimming, Anal Sex

If he dies, he's gonna die trying to get laid. It's the Steve Harrington way.

Prompt: Santa

Climb You Like a (Christmas) Tree | Ao3

Rated E, wc 2,806, No Warnings, Tags: Monsterfucking, Modern AU, Steve "Santa Claus" Harrington, Krampus Eddie Munson, Size Difference, Banter, Fluff and Smut, Is It Still Monsterfucking If They're Both Kind of Monsters?

Steve whips his head around, and Eddie is smiling, flicking his long tongue in and out of his mouth, like a menace. Like a goddamn demon. And Steve's incredibly fond of him.

Prompt: Velvet

Black Velvet, If You Please

Rated T, wc 1,113, No Warnings, Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Famous Corroded Coffin, Corroded Coffin Guys, Steve Trolling Eddie, Because He Loves Him

It's tacky. Kitsch. An oversized eyesore.  And it's perfect.  Steve couldn't be more pleased. It's exactly what he envisioned and more when he commissioned it. He watches the artist carefully wrap it, then with their help, Steve picks up one side of the frame, both of them wrangling it carefully so they don't drop it, and carry it out to the waiting car. Gareth's behind the wheel, engine running, like he's the driver of a getaway car.  [READ MORE HERE]

Prompt: Coat

Slip Slidin' Away

Rated T, wc 1,355, No Warnings, Tags: Modern Day AU, Ice Storm, Neighbors Meet Cute, FYP Getting Far Too Local

Eddie reaches for his phone. It's buzzing against his thigh again. He's getting annoyed. His doorbell camera has been going apeshit for the last ten minutes, but every time he checks, nobody's out there.  Another notification, another annoyance, and this time he actually pulls up the recorded clip instead of just the live feed to see what kind of insect has survived the freeze just to terrorize him.  It's not a bug, though. It's worse. It's a man, on a pair of ice skates, gliding up and down their frozen street.  [READ MORE HERE]

Prompt: Snow

Fool Me Twice, I'll Bring You Down

Rated T, wc 2,398, No Warnings, Tags: Future Fic, Post Break-Up, Self-Sabotaging Eddie Munson, Good Uncle Wayne Munson, Reconnecting, Olive Branches, Second Chances, Always the Right Guy, Finally the Right Time, Hopeful Ending

Eddie toes at the dirty snow under the sole of his boot. Nudging out a shallow hole in the mostly frozen dirt, and then filling it back in with his heel. Stamping it down, and starting the process all over again. Once he's done dragging his foot through the slush, he swings the axe one more time, splitting another log for firewood. His arms, his shoulders, his back, are all aching. But he needs to get this done before the winter storm rolls in. They're looking at more snow, and a lot of it. It's busy work. He doesn't have anywhere to be, or anyone to be with, and that's been a hard truth to accept. He's chilled to the bone, and this has been a long, never-ending winter of his own making. [READ MORE HERE]

--

Congratulations again to @thisapplepielife for their win!

You've now earned the 12 Days of Christmas badge!

[dramallamas]

Because you cannot pry British Juwon from my hands here are some Juwon headcanons based on his time in England and a bit about how it affects his life in Korea. Featuring Kwon Hyeok obviously.

Language Headcanons:

He is bilingual and is fully fluent in both English and Korean.

He learnt French in school but has forgotten most of it.

It actually got to a point where he would forget words in Korean and ask Hyeok what they were. So he would write down words he forgot and memorise them.

He still sometimes, tho very very rarely, forgets words. He has a note in his phone of them.

He spoke Korean with Hyeok but whenever either of them went out, they spoke English.

Hyeok was fluent but has not maintained the same level as Juwon since moving back to Korea.

Juwon mumbles in English to himself when thinking hard and believing he’s alone. However, people have caught him do this from time to time.

His English voice is a tiny bit deeper than his Korean one but not many people notice it (DS does tho 👀).

He speaks English pretty articulately, and has more of a southern accent.

He says scone like phone and not like gone.

Dongsik adores when Juwon speaks English and has actually picked up a couple words himself.

Unconsciously swears in English… including in rated E moments.

When he’s stressed/upset and gets the opportunity to just explode (obviously after he’s bottled it) he talks in a mush of both languages.

Other Headcanons:

Juwon went to a private school in England and Hyeok taught him extra at home.

He did not have a lot of friends but had one or two that he liked tolerated.

Definitely got picked on by other kids for being quiet or weird. That was until he full on punched a kid and got in deep shit for it, but nobody picked on him again so Juwon called it a win.

He though british/western food was mostly bland but there was a certain elegance and comfort in its simplicity.

Did not go out often, and flat out refused to go to clubs.

He did apply for UK universities and did a year or two before going to the Korean Police Uni.

Did get into a good uni, like Russell group uni (maybe Oxford?), and yet didn’t get accommodation and simply got his own place instead (his hate of sharing things and richness coming into play). He also learnt to cook there.

His father never visited but did send money to the two of them, though Hyeok also got a job out there.

He does not have the best spice tolerance due to western food being… not that spicy.

He has an English name, but doesn’t like to use it unless he has to. He much prefers Juwon.

Has been asked out by a variety of people but turned everyone down as politely as possible (unless they were pushy then he got annoyed and was very bitchy about it). He has never been interested in anyone.

Has read every single sherlock holmes book in English and still has copies in his Seoul apartment.

The only jobs he had in England were from mandatory work experience. 

Despite not really being social, he did get to know a book store worker when he went to purchase something out of the classics section.

Yes he read classics and older literature, you’re gonna tell me he didn’t? But his guilty pleasure was fantasy books. He definitely read mostly in English (more accessible) but did pick up the odd Korean book too.

His notes for cases in korea are a mash of Korean and English, mostly just writing in whatever language flows out first. There’s not a lot of time to get them down and nobody else is gonna see them so he doesn’t care about it.

Feel free to drop your own thoughts and opinions and reminder that these are MY HEADCANONS and may not fully align with yours :)

[wakeupau]

AU Headcannons

This is just a few headcannons about this AU. Feel free to read em, but if you do, it may ruin your experience with this story. I won’t link so much (even though I already have muhaha) but enough for everyone to know where I’m going with this. A̶n̶d̶ t̶o̶ g̶u̶i̶d̶e̶/m̶o̶t̶i̶v̶a̶t̶e̶ m̶y̶s̶e̶l̶f̶ i̶n̶t̶o̶ s̶t̶a̶y̶i̶n̶g̶ o̶n̶ t̶r̶a̶c̶k̶.

RUN CHILDREN‼️

☀️ believes there’s a bright side to every situation. ♥️⚡️🌼⭐️💡🍎🌙 depend on him for reassurance. Mostly ♥️ and 🌼 though.

☀️ acts like Joy from Inside Out. A̶ c̶o̶n̶t̶r̶o̶l̶ f̶r̶e̶a̶k̶.

⚡️ and ⭐️ are great friends! They’re almost never seen apart, which is a good and a bad thing. They make a pretty good team, but everything can and will evolve into some sort of competition. One way or another. Some of it is unintentional.

⚡️and ⭐️ are also very sneaky pranksters. 💡 is usually the one who finds out in the end though.

Due to ⚡️’s impatience, ⭐️ sometimes feels peer pressured into some of the stunts he does.

Surprisingly, ⚡️ and 💡 also make a good team, the only disadvantage is that ⚡️ has a lack of… common sense.

⚡️ is impulsive.

💡 is an overachiever.

🍎 has an eating disorder, and isn’t very good at hiding it.

⭐️ can be immature and childish. And a coward.

⭐️ is easily scared.

Mischief Level:⚡️>⭐️

♥️ is very clingy.

🍎 and 🌼’s dynamic mirrors Apple Jack and Rairty’s in a way.

🌼 is a mix of Fluttershy and Rarity. Not very confident with people, but definitely her interests.

🌼 second guesses herself when she talks, especially to strangers. This also causes her stuttering.

🌼 is afraid that she is a pushover, and tries to act assertive.

🌼 and ⭐️ are actually similar in some ways.

🌼 and ⭐️ are good friends.

⭐️ is more easy to scare than 🌼

⭐️ acts tough and brave around 🌼 and⚡️

🍎 is a great cook! 🍎 loves to try new recipes and food combinations. 💡 sometimes checks to see if they’re safe to eat.

🍎 loves to cook from scratch. She plants her own fruits and vegetables.

🍎 acts like a mix of Apple Jack and Pinkie Pie.

🍎 is the to-go person for desserts.

🍎 is an early bird because B R E A K F A S T

🍎 and 🌼 make food art sometimes.

♥️ is a pretty good liar because ♥️ is the most emotionally intelligent of the critters. It also depends on what the lie is. If it’s something small like stalling for a surprise everything is okay, but if it’s something serious, the truth may be told a little too soon.

♥️ is the most emotional. She isn’t necessarily a crybaby, but no one can watch a sad scene without hearing her weep behind her hands.

♥️ is a hopeless romantic and indecisive. She goes to library trips with 💡 and he has to wait a pretty long while before she finally decides what she is going to check out. (🍎 packs snacks for them because she knows lol)

🌼 likes to design clothing for special occasions.

🌼 is like Fluttershy from MLP (mostly her temper side).

💡 and 🌼 have pointless arguments about overlooking details. 🌼 says 💡 is overthinking the obvious. 💡 says 🌼 is taking too much time looking for small details. If that makes sense lol

💡 can also be a control freak depending on how much a situation applies to him and/or his interests.

💡 is a perfectionist, 🌼 is more relaxed.

💡 feels like he needs to know everything, if he doesn’t, he gets very depressed and puts himself down. (Calling himself stupid, etc)

💡 obviously has no emotional intelligence. It makes it hard for him to know when to stop and enjoy the moment during his long monologues about everything.

💡 reads psychology books in order to understand emotions and habits to help himself and his friends.

💡 “studies” his friends’ behaviors to figure out better ways to help them.

💡 can’t ever really relax. When he tries to act subtle, instead of being calm, he gets very tense. ⭐️ helps out.

💡 is easily impressed. No one has to try too hard, but then again they do because he will question them.

⚡️ likes to annoy 💡whenever he’s busy by being a smart aleck sometimes.

⚡️ has been told on multiple occasions to slow/calm down.

⚡️ is a picky eater. Especially when it comes to vegetables.

⚡️ and 🍎 get easily distracted.

⭐️ has a massive ego./j

⭐️ talks to ♥️ about his narcissistic tendencies and takes her advice to be better.

⭐️ can be a pain in the neck.

⭐️ holds grudges and will use them against whoever caused them at any given time.

♥️ and 🍎 love making Valentines’ gifts. Especially “heart-shaped, chocolate chip, doubled stuffed cookies” The first bite is Heaven, the second you’re actually there.

☀️ gets the sugar cookie version since yknowwww

♥️ and 🍎 still say they’re not sweet enough as a joke when everyone else is literally bouncing off the walls because the sugar made them hyper.

♥️ and 🍎 are also good at party planning.

♥️ and 💡 also have quarrels. Book smarts vs emotional intelligence.

♥️ is like the therapist friend, but if anyone overshares, she will make sure they’re okay.

♥️,🌼, ⚡️and 🍎 are great at decorating.

If there’s ever a song, ♥️, 🍎, ⚡️, ⭐️ (barely) or ☀️ are the lead singer or start the song. (It’s almost always ☀️ or ♥️)

♥️ is better at giving motivational speeches than ☀️ ☀️ and ♥️ are like the dad and mom of the group. (NO SHIP THOUGH)

☀️ and 🌙 are great friends, or at least, in the best way they can be…

☀️ believes he’s doing the right thing, 🌙 is afraid to tell him otherwise.

☀️ doesn’t necessarily have anger issues, but if he’s too overwhelmed, he may snap or talk in a loud, irritated manner. His friends get startled or shocked by it whenever it’s all of a sudden.

☀️ tries his best to be easygoing.

☀️ isn’t good at hiding his stress, nor his problems.

☀️ needs help and guidance, but is afraid to ask because he’s the leader.

☀️ makes sure everyone knows who’s in charge. He literally owns that title like a trophy. (Considering the fact that ☀️ doesn’t have a specialty)

☀️ can get very emotional. Not as much as ♥️ though.

🌙 gets very anxious around his friends and doesn’t know why. 🌙 just feels a wave of depression when he’s around them, especially around ☀️

🌙 is in somewhat denial, he clings to ☀️ and asks his opinion on almost everything.

🌙 is scared he’s doing something wrong.

🌙 is miserable, no one really notices because he’s always smiling. 🌙 is also the least expressive out of the bunch as shown on promotional material.

🌙 gets confused between the the series and the reality.

🌙 is dissociative when he is overwhelmed.

🌙 is a night owl.

🌙 is more of a follower than a leader.

[thalialunacy]

[HI FRANS. Believe it or not, this is for the @calaisreno May Prompt Fete. Herein lies useless fluffy smut, rated E. Yar.]

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As it happens, they don't end up flipping any coins.

Charmed lives, they have not led -- as their therapists' files can attest -- but they've now got the hard-won, slightly dented treasure of true familiarity, which means--

'John--what--' He's turned enough that the showerhead, which is, per usual, placed far too low for a person of his height, spritzes water which jumps off his shoulder and hits him on the nose. He twitches, probably not unlike an annoyed bunny rabbit, and John's mouth turns up. 'Why are you here. In the washroom. While I'm showering.'

John starts to unbutton his shirt, and Sherlock watches, mouth drying, as he summarily strips down to boxers and vest and just… steps into the tub.

He's out of the spray, mostly, and Sherlock calculates how long he has until he starts to get cold. 'Because you've had a shit day,' Sherlock hears him say.

For a moment, Sherlock's brain whizzes with how John could possibly deduce as much when Sherlock is naked and just-washed. 

Then he realises with a tick that this is… psychological. This is a thing where John's knowledge is superior to Sherlock's. Some day Sherlock will accept that (not that he doesn't believe it of John, he just chafes at his own incomplete skillset) but for today he just shoves it aside and moves to the next. 

Which is leaning down to connect their mouths, feeling the water beat against his shoulderblade while he tests out what John tastes like in this new use case.

And, of course, he tastes like a long day, the aspects of which Sherlock notes automatically. But what bleats louder in his brain is the textures - water, skin, cotton, hair, calluses, steam. It all serves to spear his attention and start his blood to decidedly rapid movement.

'John,' he manages, though his lips don't stray far. 'As much as I hate to be the practical one here, this seems rather needlessly dangerous.' John nips at his bottom lip and Sherlock can feel the grin. 'Needlessly,' he reiterates, hands sliding under the vest to journey over John's shoulders and hold him steady. 'With a perfectly good bed so close by.'

But John shakes his head as he pulls away. Sherlock barely refrains from leaning forward and chasing him, but John is implacable.

He lifts his chin in indication. 'Hands on the wall, please.'

Sherlock's eyes narrow as his heart triple-times. 'You can't be serious.'

But John absolutely is. 'You've been in here for a good twenty minutes. You're fine. Turn around.'

'Surely the angles--' He's not sure why he's arguing, except he really would be very put out if someone were to slip and brain themselves on something.

John seems to have no such concerns. 'I'm fairly confident in my abilities, Sherlock.'

Sherlock flushes. 'Yes, fine, no need for braggadocio.' He pauses and kisses John one more time, just to be contrary, then does as requested. His other shoulder is in the spray, now, as John's lips press against the top of his spine momentarily.

And John does find the angles indeed. Sherlock has just enough time to calculate that he must be sat on the edge of the bathtub, which is likely to be very uncomfortable, before sensation sparks sharply on the skin of his bum.

'You have such a gorgeous--' Instead of finishing his sentence, John bites down lightly again. 'Well, everything, really,' he says while his hands gently pull Sherlock apart until he's utterly exposed.

The water running down his back is a soft but pleasant sensation as it makes its way down, and he finds himself closing his eyes.

He feels John pause. 'Ready?'

Sherlock thinks to scoff, but it comes out as more of a huffy whine.

'Right, then.'

The first touch of John's tongue is soft and wet and glorious, and he does not hesitate before settling in. As pleasure sings through his body, Sherlock finds his mind spinning through gears, churning until the frustrations of the day are in manageable pieces packed neatly for later examination.

His fist curls against the cold wall. 'John, wait.' In direct contradiction, his body pushes back against John's mouth, and a groan escapes him. 'I want to--'

John hmms, which translates to a spike of pleasure that pushes the air from his lungs. 'John.' 

Suddenly John is standing, crowding him against the tile. 'Go on, then,' he says, lips on the back of Sherlock's neck, as his hand moves round to assist him to completion.

'But--' Sherlock grinds out. 'You--'

John shakes his head, which feels desperately new from this angle, and Sherlock nearly cries out as his orgasm approaches. 'Just enjoy it.'

There's such affection in his voice that Sherlock is at once able to do just that, cataloguing the sensations as his body clenches and releases.

'Good,' John is murmuring as Sherlock comes down. 'So fucking gorgeous.'

Sherlock starts to smirk, but then John continues. 'Sodding idiot, too.'

Sherlock gasps, his lungs not quite ready for full sentences. 'Pardon?'

'You couldn't possibly have thought you could find an entire people carrier's worth of personal effects in an afternoon.'

John says this, and Sherlock hears it, but he's understandably distracted by John also dragging a finger through the mess on the wall and bringing it back round to his own mouth. Sherlock barely represses a shudder as the visual flashes through his mind.

He takes a final recalibrating breath, then turns around and captures John's lips in a searching, grateful kiss. 'You're certain--' he offers one last time.

'Nah, hot water's running out.' John reaches for a towel and steps out of the tub, mostly onto the bathmat. 'Besides, there may or may not be a new box of biscuits waiting for us.' 

John and his simple pleasures. 'Ginger, even,' Sherlock surmises. 'And how did you know about my afternoon?'

'I saw the news, you berk,' John says while throwing a second towel in Sherlock's direction. 'And I know you. Now dry yourself off.'

---

'Are we doing this out of order?'

Sherlock pauses to look at John just a few minutes later, the towel partially obscuring his gaze. 'How so?'

'Ah. Well. It's just that in my past relationships, that bit--' He gestures vaguely with his toothbrush; Sherlock presumes he's referring to analingus. '--wouldn't be proposed until there was a-- a certain number of other things attempted first. Accomplished first, even.'

Sherlock sighs. 'I will never understand heterosexuals.'

'Oi--'

He throws up his hands, clutching onto the towel at the last moment. 'There's no rulebook, John!'

'Well, of course not, but--'

'There are books,' Sherlock allows. 'Many of them. I can loan you some if you like.'

John pauses. 'Doesn't the internet suffice?'

'John, please. Don't be so average.'

'Dick.'

'Learning about sex from "The Internet"--' He does indeed make the air quotes. '--is about as useful as learning to practise medicine from Green Wing.'

'Hang on, how do you know Green Wing?'

'Research,' Sherlock says blithely.

---

The point is, the guesswork of a new sexual relationship is nearly wholly absent. Unless 'Did you stop by the chemist?' counts, though the third time that happens John just starts stashing condoms & lube in random (toddler-proof) places. 

Like the locked knife drawer one morning while Rosie is sleeping off a teething, tantrum-y night. John is keyed up from exhaustion and single-minded in his immediate goals, so Sherlock happens to have been pushed into the counter above said drawer, and he lifts up onto it easily enough as John unbuttons his shirt with efficient fingers.

'I know you just put your togs on,' he mutters into Sherlock's mouth as he reaches Sherlock's belt. 'But I don't care.'

'Fine by me,' Sherlock says, his attention largely on untying John's scrub bottoms drawstring by feel. 'As long as I get what I-- Oh--'

John smirks into Sherlock's jaw, his hand working inside Sherlock's very fancy pants. 'Up,' he orders quietly, hooking his other index finger into the side of Sherlock's trousers so he can pull them off.

Then as Sherlock moves to obey, John stops with a frown. 'Wait. Your wrist.'

'Is healed.'

'Just because it no longer has a cast, doesn't mean--'

Sherlock doesn't have time for this nonsense. 'Sofa, then.'

But John is shaking his head. He meets Sherlock's gaze. 'How about just… the other way round?'

Sherlock takes a sharp breath. They've not done the full ninety (a term he picked up from John, much to his chagrin) more than a few times yet, and it's been Sherlock receiving. Which he thoroughly enjoys, but the idea of being inside John makes his breath feel very short in his lungs. 'John? Will that… work? Angles?'

John runs his hands up the backs of Sherlock's thighs and leans into a kiss, holding on firmly. 'The magic 8-ball says the outlook is good.'

And that's all that gets said as they trade places and come back together. Sherlock's cast is off but John is John, so he takes on the responsibility of sitting on the cold counter and leaning back into his wrists while Sherlock fingers the worries right out of him.

'Fuck,' John curses under his breath as he hooks a hand behind his left thigh and lifts it just enough more-- 'Yes, please, god damn it--'

Sherlock reaches blindly for the hidden key to the knife drawer, and manages to retrieve the necessary items without damaging himself. John would be impressed but a) he'd already known Sherlock is skilled with his hands, and b) he is somehow completely distracted by the skin over Sherlock's clavicle.

But his eyes snap up to meet Sherlock's when he feels them line up slickly. Sherlock searches his face, and John nods once. Decisively.

Sherlock holds his gaze, palming the back of John's other thigh, and they both breathe out as their bodies connect in this new and different way.

John grunts, forcing himself not to move. The satisfying burn in his core muscles mingles with the fading sting of Sherlock's penetration, and the look on Sherlock's face is worth all of it.

Then Sherlock starts to fuck him, and he can only manage to think about himself, to keep balanced and keep from flat-out shouting and keep from interrupting it all to drag Sherlock's lips down to his.

Sherlock senses this last one, he must, because his free hand slides up John's chest to cup his jaw, and John's heart clenches in his chest.

When Sherlock's thumb drags across his lips, he knows Sherlock is close to coming, so he sucks in the tip and bites down, just a little.

It works - Sherlock says his name on a low groan and shudders once, twice. Three times.

John does drag him down for a kiss, then, which Sherlock obliges, albeit a bit messily, managing to stay inside him by way of tightening his grip around John's thigh. He's breathing hard, and John's body surges as he feels Sherlock's other hand close around his prick.

'Fuck, Sherlock--' He tightens his hold on the back of Sherlock's neck. 'Don't stop.'

Sherlock chuckles wheezily at this, but he doesn't stop until John has spilled warmly over his hand, their mouths sticky and dry but connected regardless.

Sherlock gets his breath back first. 'Your obliques are going to be sore tomorrow.'

John huffs out a laugh. 'Among other things. My god.' He gingerly lowers his legs, glad Sherlock is coherent enough to handle the condom properly. 'I'll take the bin out before Rosie wakes up,' he says with a tired grin.

Then he sits up, albeit a bit slowly, and slides his hands around Sherlock's ribcage. 'That was all right, I suppose.'

'Satisfactory.' Sherlock's breath ghosts across his nose and he feels lips on his temple. They're both trying hard not to grin, and they're mostly succeeding.

A wicked thought occurs to John, and he stops bothering to hide it.

'So. I thought it would work, even though you didn't.'

Sherlock pauses, undoubtedly predicting where John is headed with this. 'Don't.'

'I had a feeling you'd like it, even though you thought you wouldn't.'

'John. No.'

'It was… counter-intuitive.'

'You owe me twenty quid for having to stand here and listen to that, at the very least.'

'Oh, please. Put it on my tab. Paper scissors rock for the disinfecting?'

'You're volunteering, you mean.'

'Wanker.'

And despite their exhaustion and distinct lack of cleanliness, holding onto each other long after it's necessary, they dissolve into laughter.

[<3]

[When I worked at a car dealership in my roaring 20s, we sold a truck to a contractor whose business name was Counter Intuition, and I thought it was the cleverest thing ever. Well, still do, clearly. XB And okay I know Britglish often uses 'worktop' instead of 'counter' but I asked a Brit only a bit younger than me, and he said he'd use 'counter' while his mum would use 'worktop', so pffft.]

[hargrove-mayfields]

Disabled Billy and Steve Week

Day 3- special interests

My prompt: Harringrove- Shared Special Interest

-•-•-•-

One month. Billy and Steve have been living together for one month.

In that time they’ve discovered a lot about each other, things they never expected. Things like Steve hanging his jackets and sweaters in rainbow order in the closet, or Billy placing the cups in diagonal lines in the cabinet.

Only one thing had caused a disagreement, and that was about furniture covers. Billy’s ocd wanted them to avoid touching “sofa stank ass,” but Steve’s autism hated the texture of sitting on fabric on top of fabric.

Their solution was two separate chairs instead of one couch. Close enough to hold hands constantly, but separate enough to enforce their individual boundaries. Sure, it means cuddles are limited to their bed, but Billy’s on bedrest with full body aches and bouts of fibro fog usually once a week, so it works.

However, by far the most exciting tidbit they’d discovered was that they share a special interest. Games.

Video games, board games, sports- they’ve both explored the history, researched the best strategies, and played thousands upon thousands of games. DND had brought them together through mutual friendship with Eddie, while Super Mario kept their relationship on its toes.

Tonight, their choice was a little unconventional for them, a big dusty box fished from the very back of the closet. An inherited, smoke stained edition of Scrabble. If either of them and their dyslexia had realized that making a goal to play every game in the house would mean playing a spelling game, they might not have made that promise.

But, Steve already was dead set on doing it, and his dedication was not to be messed with. They were going to play that game, no matter how long it took.

Currently almost two hours and half a bag of letter chips in, it’s Steve’s turn again.

“Uhhh, I’ll spell… sunset! S-U-N.. S-E-T.”

Every chip is placed carefully, and they both double check it with the help of their Scrabble approved dictionary. At first, he’d placed them in the wrong spot, connected to a D instead of the S on the end that he meant to use, but they fixed it quickly instead of dwelling on the mistake. Billy knows Steve might cry of embarrassment if they keep the focus on his mistake for too long.

But now it’s time for Billy to have yet another go, as Steve reminds him in case he forgot again, “Your turn, Bubs! Got anything good?”

“Honestly? I have no ideas. These letters suck.” Billy grumbles, pushing the small tray that holds the letter chips away.

“You can look it up.” Steve suggests, the only way they ever agreed to go along with this game being shortcuts and technical cheats.

But Billy shakes his head, in deep concentration, “No. No, I wanna do it on my own.”

Steve gives an encouraging smile, “Take your time. I’m watching the TV over your shoulder.”

Something about the way Billy snorts says he doesn’t see that as encouragement, but instead sounds hurt, “I’m that boring, huh?”

Regretting the way he’d put it so bluntly, Steve makes sure to promise kindly, “Nope! I just like the game shows!”

It’s true too. He likes learning new words in a way that doesn’t make his brain feel like it’s on fire. And watching other people fail and struggle, even the best of the best, makes him feel a lot better about playing mostly two or three lettered words in this here game of Scrabble.

Billy’s shoulders relax with ease, satisfied that Steve isn’t annoyed with him. He does, however, quip sarcastically, “We’re so old.”

“Thirty isn’t old.” Steve hums, actually happy to be growing older instead of being trapped in the misery of his teens forever.

Growing up meant growing out of his intense self-deprecation, after leaving behind all the pain and the tragedy he’d gone through. Now in California, playing board games with the love of his life, nothing else matters.

Billy clarifies his meaning, showing to Steve that he feels the same way, and was just using an expression, “I’m not talking about literally, baby. And stop rounding up, I’m only 26.”

It’s lighthearted and they both smile, but something keeps nagging in Steve’s head. One of those old fears of his rising up despite his insistence that they don’t bother him anymore.

“We can do young people stuff.” He offers, sounding kind of upset though he doesn’t mean to let it show, “I mean, I just thought this was fun...”

Even though they’ve got a game set up, Billy leans over the small table on his elbows, and holds Steve’s hands, “Stevie. It’s great. I love these slow days with you. They make me happier than anything. I was just kidding.”

Instant relief floods Steve’s nervously twisted stomach, but just in case he asks, “You’re sure? ‘Cause we can do something else.”

It’s his fault they’re doing this. He said it would be okay. Fun even. He said they can do anything they want.

“I want to keep playing.” Billy promises, and then a real pleased look crosses his face, “I just thought of a word even.”

“What is it?” Steve brightens up immediately, leaning forward in interest.

Billy uses an ‘O’ chip already on the board to spell- “Love.”

Picking up from the look on Billy’s face, it’s not a coincidence that he’s taken to flirting through a board game. Steve blushes like they haven’t already been together for eight years. These slow times between them can be relaxing, but they’re usually days where they check in on their romance too. Rekindling the passion over a goddamn spelling game, that should, by all means, have caused Steve to panic ages ago.

It’s sweet, and it only gets better.

An adjacent ‘S’ in line with Billy’s ‘O’ and an ‘M’ further down the board makes it so Steve can spell the biggest word he’s ever played in this game, “Oh! I can use that to spell Soulmate!!”

“You got that right. I’m yours, and you’re mine.” Billy says all suavely. Steve’s literally giggling and kicking his feet, only to be shown once again through the next move just how much of a romantic Billy is.

“Matter of fact, I can use that new M to spell- Marry.”

For a moment, Steve just stares.

He’s not sure if it’s genuine or just a strategy, until Billy produces a tiny box from his pocket. It’s wooden, looks hand carved. Inside is a ring with a small ruby in a heart shape attached to a band, one he recognizes as being Billy’s mothers.

“Billy-“ He chokes. The words he’d been doing so good at freeze up. He’s used his brain so much today and now it’s failing him?

Billy is patient though, leaving the box propped open on the table so he doesn’t have to hold it and lock his wrist up, “Stevie.”

Steve swallows down his nerves as best he can, and starts to ask, “Are you..?”

“I am.” Billy finishes for him, so Steve doesn’t get too frustrated. It’s then that he starts to look nervous too. He chews his lip, a stim Steve recognizes as being an anxious one. Like he’s done something wrong by asking for something so big, “Do you want to?”

But this, this couldn’t be more perfect. A proposal through their shared special interest, a lifelong passion channeled into their love. Of course Steve wants that too. Really, he’s wanted it ever since they were teenagers, but now that they’re in their twenties, they’re finally ready for that dream to become a reality.

“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”

~~~~~~

For todays disability organization spotlight, let’s talk about the National Fibromyalgia Association.

The NFA is a site which provides health information and resources about Fibromyalgia, a condition that is under researched and often disregarded by medical professionals as not even existing.

The information on their site ranges from self care guides, science explaining chronic pain, COVID precautions for our disorder, medication and treatment suggestions, and emotional assistance for fibromyalgia patients, among other things.

Run by doctors and fibromyalgia patients alike, the websites main goal is to spread awareness and make research accessible for everyone. When I finally received my diagnosis, I spent a lot of time here learning about little things I could do for myself to manage my symptoms. Now I use mobility aids and am in physical therapy, and my symptoms are much more managed than before.

Because fibromyalgia is such a disregarded disability, so are our foundations. The NFA is currently asking for donations, either direct monetary donations or through buying their merchandise in the online shop.

If you would like to learn more about this organization or access their information guides, you can click here to visit the site.

[vanilla-poisons]

Jamikali au where everything is the same except Kalim is the one who resents Jamil slowly by slowly and Jamil is the one hopelessly devoted and completely loyal to him. I wonder how that would work

Well feel like other stuff would also have to change but to keep their personalities more aligned I’d imagine it would go like this:

(Uhh I forgot to keep most things the same but shhhh sorry)((also book 4 spoilers)((it mostly diverges from canon a lot under the cut))

Kalim is still a pretty happy guy and Jamil is still kinda a jerk but as Kalim starts to resent Jamil from holding him back from doing so many things. Jamil is hopelessly devoted to keeping Kalim safe from harm but this means he won’t let him hang out with people who seem shady without supervision and is more overprotective than before. He would be loyal to a fault and would be kinda an asshole to people who don’t get along with Kalim to the point of getting into stupid conflicts. Kalim would find this more and more annoying and would want more freedom and to just live his life.

He draws the line after Jamil almost(?) overblots (Jamil tries to take over as house warden, thinking it’s for Kalim’s own good) Jamil is loyal to Kalim to the point he thinks it’s them against the world and wants them to break free from the adults and the rest of the school kinda. Kalim learns about the mind controlling and lying and how he almost hurt everyone and just loses it. He just breaks down crying and screaming that he loves Jamil but starts to explain how he resents him all the same. He can’t take it anymore and either 1. Tries to leave the school or 2. Removes Jamil as vice

Kalim would still partially blame himself and Jamil would get mad at Kalim but they would still hold devotion and resent. Jamil would try to argue with Kalim that he needs to stay by his side but Kalim would argue that staying with him has only hurt both of them. In the end I think Kalim would overblot lol after trying to leave NRC or trying to run the dorm alone.

However in the end, they both come to an understanding. Jamil finally shoves aside his pride and emotional walls and for the first time ever apologizes. Kalim listens and instantly forgives him but then does state that he was still hurt by what happened but also says he’s sorry too. Kalim asks again to be friends and start over but instead Jamil lowkey asks him out and they decide to start a weird more than friendship. Jamil starts to let Kalim and himself become equals and starts to express more of his affection in public.

And then Quinn ends this post bc this got cheesy and long and why did this become a who,e thing sroryuyfndncjdjd(also sorry anon if this wasn’t what u wanted I just kinda went off the rails))

[roguishcat]

Chasing perfection

Summary: Chasing perfection is not only impractical but mostly unattainable. Instead of boosting our achievements, it shrinks them. Why? Because when we aim too high, "failure" becomes the norm, chipping away at our self-confidence bit by bit. But then again, maybe perfection is overrated.

Pairing: Astarion x female Tav, Astarion x OC

Word count: 2k

Rating: M for now, E in later chapters

Part 1/?

She hated when he looked at her this way. As if he knew exactly what she was doing.

At first, she thought that she was just being paranoid. But now she was almost certain that he knew.

On the day when she woke up on the beach and realised that she was thrust straight into some kind of adventure novel, she knew that she would be absolutely useless. Everyone in their motley crew had some kind of skill, they brought something to the table. Her upbringing did not come with any skills required to survive in the wilderness, with or without a tadpole guest in their brain. Because she was raised to ensnare a husband, bare children, and keep a grand house functioning perfectly for the said husband and children. She did not know how to cook or even build a fire, had no clue how to pitch a tent, and was woefully inadequate when it came to combat or magic of any kind.

She was good at getting people to do what she wanted though.

So, when it was her turn to cook, she asked Gale to tell her once again that simply charming story about the time he almost burned down the library or some other boyhood story that he was so fond of.

She did not actually care, but he did.

Gale would chuckle fondly at the memory, so eager to relive the good old times that he did not notice that it was actually him who prepared the meal, and she was merely going through the motions near him. She now knew far too much about his Tressym, mother, and other details of life in Waterdeep. But, it was worth it. Later in the evening, when she ladled the stew into bowls and handed it out around the campsite, she humbly brushed off her companions’ compliments. It was nothing much, really. It wasn’t that good. But it was. It was delicious because all she did was salt it a little towards the end. Gods know it would turn out burnt and undercooked if she was the one preparing the meal.

And that was her game in a nutshell. Notice details, exploit others for her benefit, be all smiles and compliments. It has been this way as far back as she could remember. She has never been good at anything, unimpressive in every way. But, somehow, growing up surrounded by the best of the best, she realised that it wasn’t the talented or the cleverest that would always get recognition. It was those who grabbed every opportunity, exploited every possibility and shamelessly pushed themselves to the forefront of others’ minds that always came out on top. So, she gained others’ trust, learned secrets, manipulated others into doing the work for her, and they happily let her take the credit for everything.

She knew it was objectively wrong, but quite frankly, boo-freaking-hoo. If they weren’t smart enough to see through her act, then they would get exploited anyway. And why shouldn’t she benefit from it in the meantime?

And so, she praised Wyll on his perfect fighting technique and got him to give her pointers. She knew that he might take her asking for sparring sessions as flirting, but what was the harm? He was a Ravengard, he probably had enough people fawning over him back in the city. And he was a little too good, too proper and righteous for her rotten self anyway. After a while, she moved on to Lae’zel, all smiles as she excused herself when Wyll came by her tent. Because of course she was such a ditz, she completely forgot that he asked her to come by, but she couldn’t possibly upset Lae’zel now. She would gladly spar with him tomorrow.

This was how pretty much everyone, everyone but one annoying elf, did everything that she required of them. She got reasonably good at casting a limited number of spells, good enough with a dagger and a bow not to get killed in a fight, still completely rubbish at cooking. And every single time she approached someone with a request; he would be watching. She knew she was good at what she did, but he could practically write a book on the subject. So, whilst everyone else was oblivious, she knew he could tell that she was a fraud.

At first it was nothing much, just a sly look here and there. But then came the comments. Oh, how she despised him in these moments!

“My, my. You seem to be getting awfully chummy with Lae’zel. Was it anyone but you, I would think that you caught feelings,” he mocked, looking down at her as she tried to lift herself off the ground after a particularly tough sparring session. “And for shame, leaving Wyll feeling all blue time and time again.”

She wiped her brow and faked a girlish giggle.

“Astarion, for shame!” she swatted at his arm playfully. “Someone might think you actually care.”

What was his deal anyway? What did he care? It wasn’t as if he was any better, he was just as rotten as she. Perhaps that was it. Like sees like an all that.

Except he was nothing like her because he was actually good at many things. Locks opened in seconds as he worked on them with quick and precise movements. He was a great shot and hardly ever missed. In fact, if he wasn’t, she would be dead three times over by now. He could sew and mend things so beautifully, with such careful stitches, that if they were back at the city, she would have hired him in a heartbeat. He mentioned in passing that he was a magistrate back in the city, which made her feel even more worried. The man saw through lies for a living! And to top it all off, his stupid, stupid, ridiculous good looks would set any living, breathing thing ablaze.

It just wasn’t fair.

Be that as it may, he wasn’t going to throw her off with his looks, or comments, or that annoying manner of his to hover nearby whenever she approached someone with a request. She would survive and make it home in one piece. Even if it meant that being calm around Astarion and not showing just how much he got under her skin was driving her absolutely mad.

The annoying part was that it made her a little less charming, a little more short-tempered or distracted with the others. Because now doing what she did best, being amicable and pleasant, charming and flirty, did not come as naturally. She started second guessing herself. Because if he could see through her lies, maybe the rest could too?

“A copper for your thoughts,” Gale’s voice startled her.

She blinked owlishly. “Sorry, I was a million miles away,” she smiled at him. “Do sit,” she patted the space next to her.

Gale smiled and lowered himself to sit beside her. 

“Yes, I can tell. This was the second time I asked.”

“Was it? Sorry. I- I’m just thinking about our little group.”

It wasn’t entirely untrue.

“About how much we’ve accomplished. About how much more we have to do,” she bit her bottom lip as she said that. It was a habit of hers, to bite her lips when she was worried or stressed. It drove her mother up the wall when she did that. Because cracked lips look so unattractive on a lady! She flicked her tongue out a little to check. No, not cracked yet.

“Well, we will get to the goblin camp by tomorrow,” Gale watched her bite her bottom lip and turned away when he saw the dart of her tongue through the briefest parting of her mouth. “Perhaps we will be able to find out more about the little guests in our brains. You should get some sleep.”

“Yes, goodnight,” she answered absentmindedly.

Gale looked like he wanted to say something else, but changed his mind and left without another word.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. Great. All that effort in making friends being undone in seconds. She would have to be extra attentive tomorrow to make up for it.

A tree branch crunched as Astarion approached the campfire.

“Well, if it isn’t our fearless leader. No doubt thinking about the strategy she will utilize tomorrow at goblin camp,” he mocked. Because he knew that she realised what he was referring to. He wasn’t speaking about strategies in combat. He was eager to see how else she would try to use their companions for her gain tomorrow.

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Tsk, language!” He wagged an elegant finger in front of her face, looking delighted at her little outburst. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think that our perfect, wonderful leader has a potty mouth.”

“Go bother someone else.”

“I would much rather bother you, actually, my beautiful fraud, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Do what you like.”

Because telling him to stop would likely have the opposite effect. If she acted disinterested, she could probably get him to leave faster.

“Well, isn’t it just splendid that what I’d like to do right now is stay right here. So, move over, darling. I will stay up with you, as you seem to be in no hurry to turn in for the night.”

She shot him a look full of distaste, but otherwise did not protest.

As Astarion sat down, his sleeve brushed against her bare arm, and she shivered involuntarily. It was just a breath of fabric, but she was so alert when it came to him, so aware of him being in her space, that it felt like her senses were completely on fire.

“I can’t sleep,” she cleared her throat a little. “It is much too hot.”

“Then why don’t you refresh yourself. The river is just there,” he pointed to the glittering expanse.

“You know what? I think I’m good just looking at it.”

“Nonsense! You will feel so much more refreshed after a dip. I know I would.”

She did not like his tone. Teasing and a little threatening at the same time.

Suddenly he pushed her, and she fell backwards and into the water, squealing in a most undignified manner.

She came up sputtering, completely soaked and even more frazzled than before. She shot him a murderous look. Astarion did not seem bothered in the least, laughing at her expense.

“Just what is your problem!” she hissed, struggling to climb onto shore because apparently chivalry was dead, and she was supposed to get out without any help at all.

At least she was just in her cotton shirt and trousers, rather than in her armor. When she finally did manage to flop ashore, acutely aware how that looked to Astarion, she marched straight up to him.

 “Fine! I know that I am not this perfect leader. We both know that I’ve been bulshitting my way through this since the word go. And yes, I’ve abused everyone’s trust to learn how to survive out here, and that is probably why for some reason they see me as capable. And I know full-well that I am not special, or talented, or much good at anything. And I also know that if you breathe even one word about this to anyone, I will deny it tooth and nail. And guess whom they will believe,” she finished with a smirk. She did not exactly have the upper hand, but at least she stunned him into silence. Except he wasn’t really looking at her face. Or rather he was trying but failing. Because whilst the night was quite warm, apparently-

“Hm, nippy tonight, isn’t it?”

She short-circuited. If goblin raiders came by at this moment, she would volunteer to be their pincushion and just die. But one did not show that one was embarrassed. So, instead of imploding there and then, she flicked her sopping wet hair into his face, lifted her chin defiantly and marched past him.

“Goodnight, Astarion.”

“My dear, I’m wounded by your dismissal. If this is a challenge, don’t imagine that I’m not up to it,” he laughed as he watched her walk away, her back stiff and her steps too hurried.

And it was in that moment that she decided that she would most definitely, most certainly get her revenge. But that would be tomorrow. Because tonight she just needed to get changed and then scream into her pillow because Astarion got under her skin, and they both knew it.

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[lolly-047]

there is a diluven headcanon that i love incorporating into most if not all of my works:

Venti being allergic to Diona

Now, Venti being allergic to cats is canon - and Diona being a cat is basically canon (despite her repeated and enthusiastic disagreements) and y'all should know that Diluc, in all his brooding, Batman-like glory is a father figure just waiting to drop adoption papers at any unsuspecting child left alone by their guardians for more than five seconds. He may not know it yet, but this is nonetheless the truth

Now, picture this: Diona finally getting to talk with Diluc, just once - usual 'bonding over their mutual hatred for alcohol' commences - and thus, a catgirl becomes a more permanent fixture in Diluc's life. Is he complaining? No, he is more horrified with why a ten year old has a job in a tavern - but that is a problem he is still working out how to solve. At least she eats well whenever she comes around, and she also likes Kaeya's old room, so-

Yes, Diona is now a permanent fixture in Diluc's life. Which means, as another permanent fixture in said life, Venti eventually runs into her - maybe even while being a tad bit tipsy and reeking of wine... (Master Diluc always takes such good care of Venti tho, so why shouldn't he come stumbling to Dawn Winery?)

And so... The legendary meeting goes as the following:

Diona Kätzlein - nose fine-tuned to smell even the faintest whiff of that bloody-terrible alcohol all grown-ups are insistent of dying of (don't ask why she is suddenly brittish, i dunno either) - can barely b r e a t h e due to the stench of a bard who has a rather hard time getting drunk with anything less than a whole barrel of mead. It is a rather unfortunate side-effect of being a God of Wine, but hey, when your pseudo-boyfriend owns a winery that problem is mostly easily taken care of...! That is, when you are not faced with the only thing that causes you true trouble in your long, immortal life-

A screaming, hissing cat-child.

When, despite all the possible shortcomings you could have had, you possess none other than... an allergy to cats.

Venti, of course, is quite plastered at this point - so his reaction to a cat-child yelling bloody murder at him, being also yelling bloody murder back at the cat-child seems quite reasonal and logical, at the time. Tho his words slur, he can't help but get into a verbal battle of wits, even as his eyes grow watery and he begins to sniff and sneeze.

Diona, on the other hand, is red-faced and shrieking at the top of her lungs - also quite unable to smell things properly, because somehow, this one bard smells worse than the Cat's Tail on the busiest nights and Diona is choking on the stench.

She makes sure to throw this barb at his head, too.

And this is how Diluc, summoned by all the screaming finds them; two people, both very important in his life, but also, where do they get all this air to keep screaming for so long?!?!?

And his arrival brings something unexpected:

Silence.

Then, the duo whirls on him as one.

Diona is loudly questioning who and how and why this random drunkard is here and makehimgoaway! - meanwhile Venti, matching the cat-child in volume reminds the redhead that he is highly allergic and what the hell is a cat-child even doing here at Dawn Winery?!?!?

Cue Diluc calmly (trying to) explain the situation to both, at first somewhat patiently, but then getting annoyed af by all the loud noises and simply using his dad voice™ to make them both fucking listen

And thus, the first encounter does not end bathed in blood - instead, Diona gets to go up to her room, while Venti is forced to stay away for the night and then wear a nose-clip to keep him from having much of an allergic reaction again. Diluc certainly doesn't bring him to his own bed that night, despite all the griping of the bard.

But alas, this is only the first encounter.

Many more follow, as both Diona and Venti are prominent figures in Diluc's life - especially these days.

Each meeting, each narrow-eyed glare and biting comment makes sure the air between the two feels like a ticking bomb tho; one you are never quite sure when will go off.

Because go off it will, at the slightest chance it can.

But at the end of the day, altho Diluc would clearly be better off without one of them in his life - the redhead is a common ground between the two. They can make nice, against all appearances, for a scarce five minutes.

And tho neither will ever admit it, they might be growing on each other more than they care to acknowledge.

Welp. Not sure i wanted to go ahead and write out a whole scene like that, but... lol xD

Just - frenemy Diona and Venti. the good shit

I L I V E for the character dynamic that takes two otherwise mostly normal characters and turns them into rabid dogs frothing at the mouth when they see each other. just. Good shit

Also, why does Diona canonically hate Diluc (i mean i get why, he is kinda the poster-boi for the wine industry) when VENTI is there??? These two have the perfect elements for a mean-banter relationship, one even greater than the one Venti and Paimon share!!!!

Maybe we will get in one day, in canon

Until then, this still lives in my head (plus across many of my wips) rent-free. Thanks for the read <3

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Some replies!

Anonymous asked:

Dayummm Azul is BIGGGG LOOK AT THAT BOY! DAYUMMM

Hehe thank you!!

I am happy I managed to figure out how to draw the fishies… Azul is one thicc boy

Anonymous asked:

What do you think of Silver x Kalim? Cater x Leona? LMC + Rook x Idia?

Kalim/Silver is cute but unfortunately too cute to click with us; their interactions are sweet and wholesome, but they don’t really give us anything we look for in ships.

Cater/Leona is hmmm nothing against it, but we’re not invested enough in either of them to ship them, plus we haven’t seen anything from their interactions that would grab our attention yet.

Love Rook/Idia though! We have a tag for them and just posted them a week ago, and I’ll write a hc post about them soon… well, at some point…

Anonymous asked:

🐩 anon has arrived once more to thank you for your absolutely delicious art. I had to come out of twst burnout, it's so hard to enjoy the fandom when it's all self righteous antis trying to police the game as if it's not catered to basically young adults and older. These kids have me baffled, it's as if they believe pixels are real people.

I can hardly stand to look at TWST Tumblr anymore either, they're all so white knighted that you'd think they were paid to be piss babies in circles they don't belong in. It's one of those "Why put yourself in that position to see it, if you didn't want to be there in the first place".

Hi 🐩 anon, long time no see! Thank you for being around and still enjoying my art.

I feel you, it really is difficult when you keep seeing people saying the same type of antis bullshit over and over and over again; even if you become apathetic about it, it’s still very annoying. Mostly because it’s impossible to ignore completely – they love to invite themselves to spaces that aren’t meant for them. That’s like the whole idea. No one is forcing anyone to see anything, every ship and triggering trope is always tagged in some way or another, but instead of avoiding this type of stuff they use the tagging system to shit on certain characters and ships directly, just so you couldn’t look for your favourite thing without seeing their outbursts of unsolicited opinions.

It really is very annoying.

Anonymous asked:

🐩 anon again, but now with one that's more funny and teehee haha random info that I thought you'd think it'd be interesting or funny

On that note, I came here because I started a DND campaign with a group over a twst based campaign. It reminded me of you, which made me invested in the campaign. Now I have a whore serving with 18th century fashion, giving Vil a run for his money. So far, 10/10. He has major Edmund and Idia vibes, wants no part of it, gets shit luck anyways and so far, has slept with Bird Man for Ramshackle funds on a bad roll. Mans is a survivor and we are barely halfway into chapter 1 😭

It’s so sweet that you got reminded of us and got invested… I am very glad you’re having fun! “Rewriting” your negative fandom experience with a positive one and good associations is so important.

Major Edmund and Idia vibes + a 18th century fashion whore??? SLEEPING WITH BIRD MAN??? An icon and a hustler. I don’t know him but I love him already…

Anonymous asked:

Good lord. I had randomly followed a twst blog but then I saw them posting about how even though there is a two year age difference between the third-years and first-years, it’s wrong to ship them because the first-years treat them, especially the housewardens, like idols and apparently that’s grooming. Like, no, that’s you in Delululand and I’m about to unfollow and block. #staytoxicbestie

Yeah they seem to have discovered this idea and now put it everywhere, harassing JackVil shippers and such. It’s one of those moments when I genuinely hope that they deliberately lie and reach because I am scared of the idea of anyone being this dumb.

It does suck that there seems to be more people like that lately, and they don’t even tag their accs with “proship dni” anymore either. Gee I wonder why.