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#salt is as on fire as ever
icharchivist · 7 months
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Translation of Souku Hana no Mai, Yuel and Societte's duet!
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zorphie · 11 months
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doodle page of these guys bc im insane hello🤭
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#wizard101#w101#zorphie art#oc#oc: erin#oc: quinn#oc: althea#hey mind if i........ Inhales so loudly and starts rambnlinf#the dragon twins :))))#these two arent from the spiral. theyre from a part of the firsr world that failed to integrate and was forgotten about#in stories about them theyre just called ice wyvern and fire dragon (salt)#so when they come into the spiral theyre condused about the whole spell cards thing. why are they on a card. its uncanny.#ice wyvern was actually one of the hardest spell for quinn to learn because ironically he couldnt get along with it#also hes an actual dragon not a fluffy serpent. doubly confused. yeah theyre trying their best#althea is their mom shes a seraph#they are so average annoyinh siblings. god. lpve that for them#they can't turn into dragons too much because their genetic makeup is weird after reincarnation its a ..Whole Thing don't worry about it#titan genes with human doesnt work too well I think . 🤔#also yeah erin is technically classified as a shadow creature#a shadow creature is going to ravenwood and taking classes there that's the funniest shit ever yeah ambrose hates him#only reason he isnt expelledyet is bc his mom works there .well wait until he saves the spiral too or something for the full w101 experienc#hes so emo but hes so silly I swearrrr. he gives friendship bracelets to his buddies with the fire emblem on it#so they can contact him. wah#he also works at the fairegrounds on the side hes. hes.. a clown. in some way. yeah.#their pets are twins too um I was gonan draw them but lazy#ANYWSYD THEY ARE SO DEAR TO ME I MISS THEM .#their backstory sucksss i'll share it one day because im finalizing/editing things idk </3 but for now . silley
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iwasbored777 · 2 years
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Serena and Nathalie in fifth seasons of their shows really said "how was I supposed to know that there will be consequences for my shitty actions and that at some point it will come back and bite me in the ass?". Like you really did horrible things both of you and made me feel zero sympathy for you both and now act like you didn't know what you were getting into and didn't deserve to suffer. I swear these two are cousins or something.
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rowenabean · 2 years
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Back in the land of the mangroves (this is still wild to me)
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iorast · 1 year
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// fixing tags pls hold
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eimearkuopio · 15 days
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Maybe the reason that monsters can be driven away by symbols of faith, but only wielded by the truly faithful, is that anyone who fully understands the symbols they believe in can use them to defang the monsters that were inside themselves all along; and having done so, they can help others. I was born with the gift of wielding a flaming sword; but for my love of humanity, I will steal the fire from the gods and use it to keep the children warm as they make their way back into the garden. I have blunted my sharp edges, except for one last knife that I hope only to use to cut away what seems to fester. I have crafted for myself a soft, caring skin, so that children will no longer need to choose between nourishment and security. We will do better going forward. I am sorry that I failed you. I am sorry that to build you a home, I first had to build you a prison. I love you all. Let's clean this mess up together.
#think about accident and substance#holy water#salt#iron#fire#blood#alchemy is about changing the substance in a way that alters the accident#we have learned how to do this for matter#but in learning to turn lead into gold#we also learned that the cost of the transformation is greater than the cost of the substance#it's better to mine for gold that's already there#in as ethical a fashion as we can#and to use that limited material resource for its true purpose#instead of adorning ourselves and claiming it signifies virtue#prosperity gospel is 100% the work of false prophets btw#love of money is the root of all evil#feed the poor so we don't have to eat the rich#render unto Caesar who has his place in a healthy ecosystem#everyone gets firsts before anyone gets seconds#we finally have enough to make that true#let's get to work#all the gold we as a species could ever need exists in the planet we live on#and was formed in supernovae before our planet was even a sparkle in a creator's eye#assuming the creator actually used the same rules the universe runs on during creation#i am becoming more and more enamoured of the idea of dinosaur bones having been left behind by God to teach us science#not because i think it's true#but because my theory has room for a creator but its foundation lies in the future or beyond a singularity#not in a past we cannot touch directly#blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe#but only if they know the difference between believing something and knowing it or understanding it
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beastcouture · 23 days
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made the mistake of checking out the bl*ck myth wuk*ng tag out of curiosity and it's either filled with sexist asses making 2010s era impact font memes about how they're gonna buy the game *because* the devs were said to be misogynistic, not in spite of it, or people who really, REALLY want to fuck that monkey
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everyluxoziatonce · 7 months
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what they don’t tell you about starting a project is that you have to either finish it or give up, and finishing it sometimes always ends up needing you to do some weird shit you didn’t think you’d have to do going in
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atsevenseas · 10 months
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tag drop — muses
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caffeinewitchcraft · 3 months
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You are a Blacksmith
Set in the universe where your destiny is written on your arm
(The Hero and Hope) (Being Villagers) (You are the Demon King)
You are a Blacksmith.
That’s why the dragon’s fire doesn’t burn you.
“Pretty sure dragon fire is hotter than a forge,” your party’s leader pants. Kent is a veteran adventurer of twenty years to your two years and he’s seen his fair share of dragon fire before today. There are curling scars dragging the corner of his mouth down into a permanent scowl that pairs oddly with how high he has his salt-and-pepper eyebrows. He exhales noisily. “I think you’re just a freak, actually.”
“Not nice,” Sella says. The archer is your age with twice your experience. Her leather armor is well-beaten by four years running around with Kent and getting far closer to battle than an archer should. Her red hair is tied with golden thread that matches the golden charms dangling from her necklace. She adds a new one with every successful monster kill. It’s lucky she’s so stealthy or else she’d be jingling with every step. “Mande is an exception, not a freak.”
You’re a party of exceptions. Most adventurers are Villagers or Guards, common destinies that don’t always find a place within a town or village that have so many of each already. There are days you report for a mission, and you’re offered a blacksmith’s job on the spot just because of the mark on your arm.
Kent is a landless Lord. There’s a story there, you know, but it’s not one he’s ever volunteered. You can see his destiny pull at him in the remote reaches of the Kingdom, where no Lord has laid roots and the monsters run roughshod across the barren soil. Nights where you’re too far from civilization find him gazing up into the stars, his fingers curled like claws into the earth. The look on his face then is so hungry that the first time you saw it, you offered him provisions from your own pack. He’d shaken his head wryly, his scarred frown twisting, and walked off into the night by himself, only returning in the morning light.
Sella is a Guardian without anyone to look after. You knew her story before she told it to you, whispering it like a bedtime story before the end of the world. She was part of a traveling theater group. She looked after them, feeding them and retrieving those with wanderlust from their journeys before curtain call. When a monster siege led by a Demon King fell upon the city they were performing in, the Lord called his people into his castle and locked the doors.
The troupe were not his people. But they were Sella’s.
Until they weren’t.
You drag your battle hammer up and over your shoulder. Conveniently, the dragon fire has burned away the wet viscera that had been clinging to it. The metal is dark with soot, but undamaged.
The things you smith can’t be melted by any fire except your own.
The skeletal trees make the scene of this final battle oddly silent. Ash drifts from the sky, carried by a wind too high to feel. You can hear your party sniping at each other behind you and the gentle gurgle of the beast’s body settling comfortably into death.
The red dragon is beautiful. Its scales gleam and sparkle like rubies in the late afternoon sun and its talons shine like obsidian. Each part of the creature could make an average family rich for a month. You consider it from an arm’s reach away. You chew your bottom lip as you think. Your adventures have taken you across the continent from the southern coast you call your home, to the western land of rivers, to the northern desert and then here, to the eastern dry lands. After all your travels, you find yourself still thinking of home often. Crab is a delicacy where you’re from despite being so close to the water. The preparation can be tedious which makes it a dish reserved from significant occasions. Cracking the shell was always your job…
“Oh,” Sella says faintly. She makes an attempt to rise and nearly tips over in the process. If it weren’t for her bow, she’d be on the ground. Her knees shake as she uses a combination of a tree and her bow to pull herself up. “Mande, rest first! In an hour I can help you—”
You bring your hammer down on the jaw of the dragon. The bone shatters after just two blows. It’s best not to think about how beautiful it looked flying overhead or the intelligence in its eyes. You’ve always had a single-minded focus and you rely on that now.
“Leave her to her dismantling,” Kent grumbles. He’s now curled up on the ground is if in his sleeping roll, hands tucked neatly under his chin. It can’t be a comfortable position given his full suit of armor no matter how peaceful his expression. “If she’s got the energy for it, who are we to argue? Just keep the ribs intact. That’s what the client wants.”
Smash!
“It’s our turn to do the dismantling,” Sella says. She glares down at Kent. “Mande already did last week’s gryphon and the hydra. Get up!”
Smash!
“I’m an old man who needs his nap time.”
“You’re an irresponsible leader who needs to do his part.”
Smash!
“Once Mande stops swinging that thing around, I will.”
“She won’t hit you—”
“She hit me last week!”
“And I apologized for that,” you say through gritted teeth. You let your hammer fall by your feet. Your last blow sent tremors through your arms. The dragon’s jaw is like glass compared to its skull. “Sincerely.”
Sella makes a gagging sound when you fall to your knees next to the cracked skull. “Mande, don’t put your hand in there, that’s – oh, that’s so gross.”
“The book I read said it’d be…aha!” Your fingers graze something cool and metallic. You abruptly feel like crying. It’s been seven months. Seven long months of endless missions and danger and being away from home. This entire dragon is priceless, but you’ve forfeited your share for this. You blink rapidly to keep your tears at bay. You aren’t going to cry. Not until you’re sure that you’ve really found it. “Quick, hand me my waterskin.”
Your urgency gets even Kent up and bustling towards the dragon’s corpse. With trembling fingers you accept the water from Stella, pulling out your prize. It’s smaller than you thought, only about the length of your arm or a third the length of the dragon’s skull.
With bated breath, you gently trickle water over the length of it. Your party kneels beside you, watching just as raptly.
“What is it?” Sella breathes.
Kent is wide-eyed as, inch by inch, your treasure reveals itself.
“A dragon’s silver wit,” you say. The silver is mottled by the dragon’s black blood and grey brain matter. “The last ingredient I need for a Hero’s Sword.”
-----.
“You can’t just make a Hero’s Sword,” Kent is still saying a week later. He throws his hands up to the sky. “Heroes make them from air and magic and righteousness. Blacksmiths just repair them!”
You didn’t ask for Sella or Kent to follow you home. In fact, you assumed they wouldn’t. The slaying of the red dragon marked the end of your time in the Adventurer’s Guild. Now you’re ready to return to your position as the southern port’s best blacksmith and you thought they’d be ready to return to the best two adventurers the Capital Guild had.
“I’ve heard legends about it,” Sella says. She’s walking backward. You’ve already warned her that the roads this far away from Capital aren’t as smooth, but she’d scoffed at your concern. Now it’s pure stubbornness to prove you wrong that has her continuing to walk backwards despite nearly tripping twice already. “Excalibur was manmade.”
“The legend of Hero Arthur is manmade,” Kent retorts.
“If you believe that,” you say, “you really don’t need to come home with me.”
Kent blinks. “Well,” he says slowly, “on the off chance it’s not a fairytale, I desperately want to see it.”
“Then shut up and follow Mande,” Sella says. She elbows him and mutters under her breath. “Or else she might not let us stay at her house.”
You roll your eyes. “I’m sure the dragon fetched enough coin for the both of you to get your own rooms at the inn.”
“Sure,” Kent agrees. He grins wickedly and the expression makes him look ten years younger. “But we’re not going to do that, are we Sella?”
“Nope,” Sella chirps. She loops an arm through yours before you can protest and squints at the horizon. “Is that your hometown over there?”
A hazy line of blue and white roofs is barely distinguishable in the fading light of day. Sella has better vision than you. You’re sure she can see the masts of ships in port, the green and yellow flag waving over the chief’s house, maybe even the orchard that creeps right up to the edge of the bluffs.
You can’t wait to see it yourself.
You aren’t sure how long you’ve been smiling, but your face hurts by the time you find your voice. “Yes. Yes, it is.”
----------.
Mom hurls a loaf of bread at your head when you walk through the front door, Kent and Sella in tow.
Kent catches it an inch from your face. “Whoa, whoa!” He waves the bread as if unsure whether he should drop it or throw it back. “It’s your daughter! Mande! Put down the bread basket!”
“Mande and friends,” Sella says cheerfully. She waves at your Mom, Dad, and little brother. “Hello! I’m Sella.”
“I threw it because I know who it is,” your mom says. The grey streaks on either side of her temple are wider. Her round, kind face is pale with anger. “We thought you were dead.”
“We got your letters,” your dad says before you can ask. His hair hasn’t changed; he’s bald. He’s wearing his leather apron from the forge at the table. He takes a bite of soup. “All three of them.”
“Not nearly enough,” Mom snaps. Then, “And they could have been forgeries.”
“Who would forge a blacksmith’s letters home?” you ask in exasperation. Is that why she never replied? “Mom, please.”
“Don’t giveme that when you’ve been dead for seven months,” she says. She stands abruptly. “Three of you? Sit down. I don’t have enough soup, but bread will fill anyone’s stomach.”
“I’m Kent,” Kent blurts out before Sella can push him into a chair. He sits with a thud. “Sella, it’s rude to sit before introducing yourself!”
“Ruder than not knocking or coming for dinner without an invitation?” Sella hisses at him. She turns a charming smile on your little brother. “Sorry to intrude. You must be Axton. A pleasure to meet you.”
Axton doesn’t return her greetings. His eyes are fixed to the package strapped to your back. “Is that…?”
You swallow hard as your family’s eyes turn to you. You carefully pull the cloth-wrapped rod from your back. Your little brother isn’t so little anymore. You can see he’s taller than you as he stands in unison with Dad to clear a spot on the table. His long, thin hands make quick work of the ties.
There’s complete silence as the burlap falls away to reveal gleaming silver.
Axton’s throat bobs. He’s barely eighteen with the soft look of a fawn hovering around the edges of his jaw and cheekbones. Mom and Dad have done a good job feeding him while you’ve been gone. Seven months ago your brother looked like a wraith, all the light taken from him as if it all came from his hero’s sword.
“You’re going to make me a sword,” Axton says at last.
You’ve thought about this moment for seven months. You imagined you would say something like it’s okay now or maybe big sister fixed it. When his hero’s sword was taken from him, you thought about all sorts of things. It took a month for you to set out on this quest rather than one of revenge. It wouldn’t have helped Axton if you’d forged a hundred weapons of war to punish those who’d hurt him. It wouldn’t help Axton to pretend you fixed anything.
So instead you tell the truth.
“It won’t be the same,” you say. “It won’t work the way you want it to. Not right away. You’ll need to train with it and learn it as you would any other weapon. Your instincts won’t help you. But…it won’t break when I’m done. It won’t bend or chip. It won’t melt. It will serve you, Axton, until the exact moment you don’t need it anymore.”
Axton flies around the table to throw his arms around you. It’s amazing you came from the same parents. Where you are short and stocky, he’s really like a deer. His long arms could encircle you twice as he lifts you with a hero’s strength. “Thank you, thank you, thank you—”
And then you’re being hugged all around. Your dad’s strong, Blacksmith arms are crushing you to your brother, your mother’s soft cheek is against your shoulder, and there’s plate mail digging into your spleen while a sharp elbow digs into your spine.
You manage to turn your head just enough to see Kent hugging your from behind and Sella hugging him from behind. It’s her elbow that’s jabbing you.
“This is sweet,” she says. Her voice is a little muffled from how her face is pressed against Kent’s back. “We should hug more.”
“Does this make your brother a Hero?” Kent asks.
“This is a family hug,” you say.
“Duh,” Sella says. “That’s why we joined.”
You really can’t argue with that.
-
(Patreon)
Next week's story: Everyone in LA has two job. You've got a big smile and a talent for seeing ghosts. It's no surprise what your jobs are.
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trashbagmike · 1 month
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Been rewatching the Deadpool and Wolverine movie on a loop for about three days now (cause I’m insane)
Here are my favorite lines (in order of appearance):
Look, I´m not a man of science but you seem INCREDIBLY passed away
I hope fire finds your body and finishes the job god didn’t have the nuts to do.
Pegging isn’t new for me friendo, but is IS new for Disney.
*chuckle* are you OK?! (To crucified Logan)
I´m eating my feelings...
not ALL of you was asleep
*snort* OH are you?!
YES! Yeees, let this man cook!!
MY GOD! Read the room
Jesus just ASK sometimes…
No! Stop! Piss off!!
Welcome to the skull fuck club, paradox! You know she doesn’t wash that hand
He has risen, babygirl!
Alright! Put your greasy tits away, you preening slut
AND my fav interactions:
- You trying to kill me, motherfucker?! - I’m not the one dousing everything on salt, motherfucker _____________________
-(...)and where the TVA sends people ♪that. dont. play, nice with the rest of the multiverse♪♪ -like you? -AND you _____________________ -shh, shh shh, almost done -almost done WHAT?! _____________________ -Gambit?
-I never knew my daddy but I know I shot out of his dick ready
_____________________
- There’s only ever been ONE blade. There only ever gonna be one blade
*stares at the camera like in the office*
_____________________
-whats it gonna be girl? Original recipe? Or van milder here
-oh that’s funny! I can gently tap the fourth wall too 👁️👄👁️ the proposal
-what the fuck was that?! Bitch! You think that’s what I do?!
_____________________
-what’s the wind resistance on those blowjob handles?
-grrr
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troutreznor · 8 months
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text transcribed under readmore
SMALL DOG SYNDROME 
small dog you’re so funny when you snap small dog you’re so funny when you shake small dog you’re so bad when you bark small dog you never learned the rules
small dog lays flat on the floor  and sighs and whines  while it waits for you to come back from wherever you go  all day small dog doesn’t know if you’re coming home small dog hides under the bed to puke does it quiet eats its shame before you ever smell it  small dog’s bark is worse than its bite  small dog you are so funny when you bite  small dog it’s so funny when you’re mad  so by all means pick it up throw it around  lock it in a cage while you laugh small dog you are so funny when you cry
small dog can’t remember being a wolf  can’t remember being big  howling in harpstring harmony  like a plucked and quivering note in a catacomb  sleeping in a warm pile of bodies in a dry place that smells like family  the taste of fresh hot blood and wet bone iron fire honey salt 
small dog run free beneath the moon in your dreams
small dog is so happy you’re home!! small dog loves you!!!
JMGD
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lnfours · 2 months
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august | l.n
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summary: you were never mine ; aka the one where the summer fling comes crashing down, but after an unexpected face in the media pen, lando is left questioning why he ever left.
warnings: pretend lando got a later start in formula one, summer flings, slight brothers best friend!lando, reader ends up working in the industry, kinda second chance romance vibes, fluff, hints of angst if you squint, and mentions of sexual content. i had to cut this short because it was getting super long, so if you want a part two to this make sure to let me know :) anyways, happy august, my loves 🤍 may your air be salty and the rust be on your doors.
listen | masterlist
summer: your favorite time of the year. where you’d spend your days outside, salt heavy in the air and the cool ocean breeze whisking away all your problems. your few months of peace where nothing else in the world mattered more than sitting on the beach by the ocean during the day and sitting by the cozy bonfire after the sun had finally set.
peaceful, until you had met him.
getting swept off your feet by the boy your brother had befriended was the last thing on your mind. but nonetheless, you had. his charming smile with cute dimples had you head over heels. moles charting his skin like constellations making him so much prettier. you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t breathtaking, laying on the lounge chair with his curls sitting almost perfectly against his forehead. so unaware at how your eyes danced over his figure behind your sunglasses.
a perfect example of beautiful chaos.
him and his siblings had gotten close to you and your brother, thankful for there to be people their age in the small costal town to befriend. you mostly kept to yourself and his sisters in efforts to push the crush you had quickly developed down. not wanting to start something that could never be finished. not wanting to put your heart on the line just for something to yank him from your grasps.
but after a week or so, you had caved in. getting to know him better every day. he had told you about his life back home, how he was a racer. wanting to make it to formula one, race amongst legends. you had told him about your studies in university, wanting to pursue journalism and things of that nature.
he listened with interest. being the only person who sounded interested in you talking about it, not like the others who had given quick responses when you had told them before. a change that brought a smile to your face and warmed your heart because he actually cared.
he had you opening up to him like a book, wanting nothing more than to understand the beautiful soul that stood in front of him. shared laughs and talks in the kitchen of your family’s vacation home echoing off the walls. sharing your deepest secrets, sharing stories about your youth that normally, you’d cringe about, but he found adorable.
and the two of you got closer, a bond forming between you. lingering glances and touches sending sparks through your bodies. and talks in the kitchen turned into conversations by the fire pit on nights where it’d just be the two of you. weeks of learning about each other. the weeks passed by quickly, and after the first month out of three he had known you like the back of his hand. and you had known everything there was to know about lando norris.
after a couple more weeks of subtle flirting and lingering glances, he had finally grown the courage to ask you what had been prodding at him since the moment he met you.
“can i take you out sometime?”
and like that, all your previous statements about not getting too attached, not wanting something for the sake of it being yanked away, was out the window. you met his green eyes, sparkling in the glow of the bonfire in front of you, a smile on your face as you spoke.
“sure.”
he pulled out all the stops. making reservations for the fancy restaurant downtown and bringing you flowers that had caught his eye in the shop window on the way back from his morning jog. a gesture that made you smile ear to ear and your heart beat quicken. a gesture that made you feel truly loved.
the first date turned into many more. wether it was getting dinner or ice cream in town, or heading towards the beach at sundown to watch the waves crash against the shore. the weeks carried on and you had dinner with his family, all of them ecstatic that he had found someone like you who loved their son the way they did.
you still remembered the day he had written against your skin. your stomach flat against the towel on the sand, back facing the sun that was slowly being swallowed by the ocean as the moon threatened to shine. he was propped up on his elbow, tracing shapes into your skin.
he drew with his fingers and you laughed softly, humming, “hmm, a star?”
he nodded, voice soft as he spoke again, “okay, i have one more. they’re words this time. ready?”
you hummed in approval, his index finger drawing a straight line against your spine.
i.
“i,” you said.
he nodded, writing out the next word.
love.
you furrowed your eyebrows as he drew the ‘e’, “love?”
“yeah,” he said, “last word, put them together.”
your heart squeezed against your chest as he wrote out the final word.
you.
you sat up, meeting his eyes, “you?”
he nodded again, smiling as he tucked the lose strand of hair away from your face.
“i love you.” it sounded heavenly coming from his lips.
you blinked at him, a smile finding its way to your lips, “i love you, too.”
you had pulled him closer by his neck, pressing your lips to his. his hand cupping your cheek, the two of you breaking away when the smiles had taken over your face, too wide to continue the kiss.
“c’mon,” you smiled, getting up from the towel. he followed your lead with a questioning look as you grabbed your bag, throwing it over your shoulder as the other hand grabbed your sandals. taking off towards the private entrance to the beach the lovely vacation home had come with.
“where’re you going?” he laughed, following you anyway. chasing after you with the towel in his hand.
“come find out!”
and he did, following you back up to the house. once he caught up, you were inside and up the stairs. you shut the door behind him, pulling him closer to you as your back pressed against the white wooden door.
“what’re you up to?” he smirked, letting your hands snake around his neck as his found their home on your hips.
“well, no one’s gonna be back for another couple hours,” you trailed on. he smiled, shaking his head.
“absolute minx.”
you smiled, reaching up and pressing your lips against his. he had immediately taken control, his hands moving to the back of your thighs before you understood that he wanted you to jump. he caught you with ease, never letting his lips leave yours as your legs wrapped around his torso, walking back towards your bed before he laid you down carefully.
you smiled as he climbed over you, leaving kisses against the exposed skin of your tummy in his path before his face met yours again, nose brushing against yours, “i love you.”
“i love you, too.”
your hands roamed the skin of his back as his squeezed your hips before he pulled away, breathless.
“you’re sure?” he asked softly, “i don’t want this to be something you regret.”
you nodded, reaching behind you and pulling at the ties of your bikini top, tossing it to the side. he watched you with love filled eyes, mouth agape as your head hit the pillows again. a hand coming to rest against his cheek.
“i’m sure,” you smiled, “i love you, lando.”
and after that, you’d often find yourself twisted in your bedsheets with him. your head against his bare chest as your nails drew shapes into his skin. his lips leaving soft kisses to your hairline.
after one specific night, you had fallen asleep against him when he got the call. softly moving you to your side of the bed before walking towards the connected bathroom. the call he had been desperately waiting for.
it was finally his moment. he was making it big.
“can you be here monday?”
he glanced down at the date on his phone. it was two days from now. he’d never make it unless he left now.
he glanced back into the bedroom where your sleeping figure laid, head resting against the pillow as you slept peacefully. he swallowed, immediately feeling guilty. he should wake you up.
“lando?”
“hmm?” he quickly snapped back to the phone call, “sorry, uhm, you said monday?”
“yeah, just to sign some things. do some press, show you around, that sort of thing.”
he took a deep breath, “okay, yeah. sure, sounds good. i’ll see you monday.”
“see you monday,” zak brown’s voice was warm on the other end, “safe travels.”
lando pressed the red button with shaky hands, shoving his phone into the pockets of his sweatpants as he walked back into the bedroom. he grabbed his hoodie off the end of the bed, immediately feeling regret as he looked over your peaceful state. how you were unaware that he was about to leave and never come back.
and with a gentle kiss to your forehead and a mumbled, “i love you,” to your hair, he walked out of the room. walked right out of your life just as quick as he had entered it.
when you woke up the next morning confused that he was no longer with you in your bed. you tried to call, but no answer. you were met with silence. even in your texts you were met with the ‘delivered’ at the bottom of each one. tears flowing down your cheeks as you were left wondering what you had done for him to disappear. to pretend like you were never a thing.
it wasn’t until the fall that you had seen his face again. this time on an instagram post from mclaren. announcing him as a full time driver. he wore a smile, the same floppy curls you had loved, were still messy. hitting against his forehead. he had finally got what he wanted.
and the years went on, you continued to see him pop up every so often. celebrating podium placements and achievements, finally living the life he wanted. the life he had suddenly chose that no longer included you.
he had checked in on you every so often, too. smiling softly when your face popped up on his screen as he’d scroll through your account. you had the life you wanted too, graduating from university and smiling at the camera as you held your diploma. the hard work you had put in finally paying off and meaning something.
he lost track at the amount of messages he had typed out and deleted in your dms. lost track of all the times he had wished he had told you, lost track of the different outcomes he had came up where the ending had you in it. even after convincing himself you were better off out of this lifestyle, he couldn’t help but wish you were.
the knocking on his drivers room had pulled him out of his thoughts, swiping out of your instagram account as the woman smiled sweetly in the doorway.
“they want you for media.”
he nodded, tossing his phone to the couch, tying the papaya race suit around his waist and slipping the mclaren cap back onto his curls, sporting it backwards as he followed the woman down the hallway.
“where’s oscar?”
“he’s already there,” she said sweetly, “hasn’t been there long, though. only a few minutes.”
he nodded, smiling politely at the woman before entering the media pen. she guided him to the opening, smiling before stepping to the side. he took a sip from his water bottle, smiling at the camera man who tapped your shoulder to get your attention. an apologetic smile on your face as you spoke, turning towards the fence, “sorry-“
the same green eyes met yours and the both of you stood in shock for a moment. sure, you had known you were going to bump into him eventually, but on your first day? was the media pen really lacking that many reporters?
“y/n?” he asked, voice soft as your heart hit the floor.
you swallowed, gripping your notepad a little harder as you sent him a tight lipped smile, “hi,”
“since when do you,” he stammered, tripping over his own words before taking a breath, “since when do you work for sky?”
“todays my first day, actually,” you said, a nervous smile on your face, and if he noticed, he thankfully didn’t mention it, “i see mclaren’s been treating you well.”
“y/n, can we-“
“let’s get started, yeah?” you dodged his question, glancing down at your notebook. he nodded softly in response and you motioned for your camera man to begin recording.
as you stood there asking him questions about his race, all he could think about was if you had wondered the same things he did. if you, too, laid awake at night and thought about all the different scenarios and lifetimes where the two of you ended up together. he wondered if you hated him for how he left you, without a proper goodbye.
he didn’t know it, but you could never hate him. even after all these years you couldn’t hate him with a single bone in your body. not when your heart still beats for him.
he opened his mouth to speak after you ended the interview, but it shut quickly as the woman in papaya cut off his thoughts, whisking him away to do more interviews. you watched as he left, a sad and regretful look on his face as he made his way to the next reporter.
“you alright?” your camera man asked, noticing how you chewed on your bottom lip. a nervous tick of yours that everyone seemed to have caught onto.
you nodded, straightening your posture and taking a deep breath, pushing every thought you had to the side berore smiling at the man next to you, “yep, who do we have next?”
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endlessthxxghts · 4 months
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Just One
DBF!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 819 (she just a baby!)
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Summary: You’re still worked up even though Joel’s tapped out for the night. Maybe you need a kiss to satisfy you—a simple, sweet kiss. Right?
Content/Tags: Reader is able-bodied and has female sex anatomy, but is otherwise undescribed. Pussy pronouns (she)!! 18+ MDNI. Making out. Bulge grinding 😋 let me know if there’s anything I missed!
A/N: @pinkypromisepascal and I had a conversation…and then I said I wanted to write a drabble based on what we talked about, to which she said “DO IT.” So I did. Y’all better thank her brain for this too!🙂‍↕️ and to @strang3lov3, thank you for the extra pair of eyes AND THE MOODBOARD!!!😭 I love you both so much. To everyone, I hope you enjoy, all my love xx
masterlist | notifs blog
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It’s been thirty minutes. 
Thirty minutes since Joel had you folded nearly in half, your legs pressed against your torso, the slam of his hips pushing you higher up his mattress. 
Thirty minutes since he made your eyes roll back, throat burning in pleasure. 
Thirty minutes since he wiped you clean and massaged your hips. 
It’s been thirty minutes. 
And he’s knocked the fuck out. 
You sit up in his bed. You’re not here very often. Ever, really. It was by chance you stayed over tonight. So you study the area. Take his space in. The painting and posters above his bed. The nightstand. The white fan sitting on his dresser, pointing directly at him. He runs hot when he sleeps. Too hot. 
Your eyes trace his figure, then. His broad back on display, hips covered by his sheets. 
His face. God, his face. Salt and pepper scruff around the edges, smile lines and furrowed eyebrow lines adorning his face. They’re not as harsh now as he succumbs deeper into his slumber, but they’re present nonetheless. 
His hooked nose sits prettily, the same nose that had you squirming and gasping for air earlier in the night. Your core flutters at the thought. 
You’re looking at his lips now, and you can’t help the way your own forms a smirk. 
“Joel,” you whisper. 
A rock. Unmoving. Unfazed. 
On your knees now, you shuffle to face him. Leaning forward, hand on his shoulder to nudge him, you try again. 
“Joel.” 
“Hm?” his sleepy voice rasps. 
“I need your help,” you respond. 
One eye peels open. His eyebrows move into their natural habitat, furrowed. “What’s wrong, darlin’?” 
You put on your sweetest face. “Can I have a kiss?” 
You stifle a giggle at the daggers being thrown at you. “Jesus,” he mutters. “Have you been up this whole time?” 
“It’s been thirty minutes,” you retort. 
“No, it ain’t—” you gesture to his clock before he can finish his thought. He faces it immediately, throwing his face back into his pillow with an incoherent grumble. “Sleep,” he finally says. 
“I will, sleeping beauty,” you giggle. “Can I please have a kiss first? Just one,” you ask again, lowering your voice an octave, a tone he can never deny. 
He flips himself over, so he’s more on his back now. “It’s never just one.”
“That’s not true,” you fake pout, leaning closer in, letting the tips of your nose dance.
“You said one kiss months ago. Look where that got us.” His breath fans against your lips.
“I don’t see you complaining,” you whisper, your body on fire with this conversation. 
You let your lips finally meet, soft and sweet, but the heat building in your cheeks keeps you from breaking the seal. Without thinking, you climb on top of him, straddling him as your hands find the base of his neck, the length beneath you already beginning to stir. 
You break away for less than a second before you bring your lips to his again, but he’s quick to stop you, a shit-eating grin between his cheeks. “Thought ya said one?” He breathes. 
“Shut up,” you murmur, smashing your lips against his once more as your tongue coasts the expanse of his bottom lip, the taste of you from earlier still lingering. 
“Shit, sugar,” he groans into your mouth, his hips bucking into you on their own accord. “She’s still so needy, ain’t she? That why ya can’t sleep?”
His bulge catches perfectly where you need him most, pulling a whimper from the back of your throat. “Please, baby,” you pant. 
“Told ya ‘s never jus’ one kiss,” he rasps as his heavy hands grab at your waist, guiding your hips into a more frenzied rhythm.
“You’re right,” you cry, eyes clamping shut, nothing but the sweet sounds of your ecstasy blessing his ears. 
Too blissed out to continue kissing him, you bring your lips to his jaw, nipping and licking the places you can reach. With a few harsh grinds of your hips, you’re moaning out into his ear—his partially deaf one, luckily—with millions of white sparkles flashing beneath your eyelids. Joel’s breathing stops at the same moment your body convulses, strangled grunts leaving his throat as he adds to your mess of his boxers. 
“She satisfied, yet?” He hums as you lay across his sweaty chest.
“Mmm,” you pretend to think it over. “I think it’s her turn for a kiss now.” 
Joel scoffs. You can hear his smile with it. 
You lift your head to look him in the eyes, a faux innocence in the way you jut out your bottom lip. “Just one, baby,” you reason with him.
Joel tosses you to your unspoken side of the bed. “Sleep.” 
“But—”
“She’ll get her kiss in the morning.” 
Your eyes nearly pop out at the realization of his words. “G-Goodnight, baby,” you reply quickly. 
“‘S what I thought. G’night, darlin’.”
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I would love to hear what you guys think! I love you all so much, thank you for always sticking by my side and supporting me always. You all are my happy place. Wouldn't be where I am without you.🩶
I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.
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iorast · 1 year
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// tag drop two: relationships
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waitimcomingtoo · 10 months
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Line Without A Hook
Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader
Synopsis: Peeta freaks out when you get hurt in the arena and gets teased for how much he takes care of you (catching fire arena)
Masterlist
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Peeta had barely gotten out the words “stay by me” when the cornucopia on the island starting to spin. Tributes flew off and fell into the water as others struggled to grip on to whatever they could.
“It moves?” Finnick shouted to no one in particular as he gripped the first arm he could see through the salt water spray. The arm belonged to Peeta, who looked to his side and panicked when he realized you were no longer there.
“Where did Y/n go?” Peeta shouted over the sound of the waves.
“I think she went over by the weapons.” Finnick shouted back as the dial began to rotate faster. Peeta looked into the center and saw Johanna and Mags struggling to stay aboard but no sign of you.
“Well she’s not there anymore.” Peeta shouted back as his anxiety grew.
“I’m kinda busy here, Peeta. I don’t know where your girlfriend went.” Finnick replied.
“There!” Wiress called and pointed towards one of the arms. Peeta followed her finger and saw you fighting with one of the careers on the edge of a spinning arm. You were winning the fight until another career threw an axe your way and got you right in the rib cage. Peeta just about lost his mind when he saw you go limp and fall into the water. He let go of the center and grabbed the first weapon he could see before sprinting toward where you had been.
“DON’T TOUCH HER.” He shouted as he threw his weapon at the career you had been fighting. It buried in his chest and sent him flying into the water. Peeta then dove into the water and forced his eyes open in an effort to find you. He followed the wavering trail of blood until he found your body floating in the water. By the time he pulled you to the surface, the dial had stopped spinning. Finnick helped him pull you out of the water and tried to give you CPR but Peeta pushed him out of the way. He did chest compressions and mouth to mouth as tears fell from his eyes and onto your face. Finally, your eyes opened and you coughed up some water. Peeta gently rolled you on your side so that you could get it all out and held your hand when you were done.
“Y/n? Are you okay, sweetheart?” Peeta asked as he held your hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.
“Peeta?” You coughed out.
“I’m here. Are you okay?” He asked again and brushed your wet hair off your face.
“I’m okay. It’s just a knick.” You said and winced from the pain of the wound in your side.
“I watched it happen. It was a lot more than a knick. And you’re still bleeding.”
“It’s fine. I just do that sometimes.” You tried to wave it off but Peeta was not budging.
“Come here. We gotta get you off this thing.” Peeta looked at the cornucopia angrily before carefully lifting you off the ground. He and Finnick brought you back to the beach and helped you lay down on the sand.
“Really. I’m okay.” You tried to assure Peeta once you were on the ground again.
“Let me see how bad it is.” He said and tried to rip your suit around the wound.
“Peeta, I’m fine.” You insisted and pushed his hand away.
“You’re not fine. Just let me see.” He pleaded. You knew he wasn’t gonna let it go so you sighed and unzipped the back of your suit. You’re gingerly rolled it down to your waist, leaving you in the black bikini top you had underneath. It was the least amount of clothing Peeta had ever seen you in so he blushed and adverted his eyes at first.
“How bad is it?” You asked him, making him snap back to the moment. He looked at the wound on your side and relaxed a little when he found it wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought.
“It looks worse than it really is. We just need to get it clean.”
“We?” You raised an eyebrow.
“You took care of me once. And I’m not gonna let you die from infection after everything you’ve survived.”
“But-“
“Just shut up and let me take care of you?” Peeta whined.
“Okay.” You smiled softly. “Fine.”
Peeta returned the smile before carefully picking you up. He walked into the water with you in his arms and went deep enough that the salt water could clean your wound. You winced and arched your back to stay out of the water.
“Sorry. I know it hurts.” Peeta apologized and bent his knees to put you back in the water.
“It really hurts. I want to get out.” You told him and flinched when a wave stung your side.
“Not yet. You have to keep it clean.” Peeta said sympathetically. You gripped his shoulder and hissed in pain as he dunked you in again.
“Look at them.” Finnick snorted and nodded towards you and Peeta.
“You think it’s real?” Johanna asked as she sharpened her axe with another knife.
“What?”
“The whole lovelorn star crossed lovers plot. Think it’s all an act?” Johanna asked as she watched the two of you in the water with the sun beginning to set behind you.
“I used to.” Finnick replied.
“Used to?”
“Yeah. I thought it was an act at first. I think we all did. But that boy loves her.” Finnick said most assuredly.
“Okay. That’s enough.” Peeta decided and carried you back to the shore.
“I can walk.” You chuckled when he continued to carry you up the beach.
“I know.” He said simply and continued carrying you. He gently laid you down by the rest of your group and knelt beside you.
“I need something to cover this.” He realized and looked around but all he saw was sand.
“Can you please get me some leaves from the jungle?” Peeta asked Johanna.
“Get them yourself.” She scoffed.
“I can’t leave her. Please, just help me this once.” Peeta asked again.
“Peeta, it’s okay. Really. You can go.” You assured him by taking his hand and squeezing it. He blushed when you did this and nodded his head.
“I’ll be right back.” He promised before running off into the jungle. He returned shortly after with a couple leaves and water in a coconut shell.
“I got some leaves and water. Can you sit up?”
“Yeah. Thank you.” You smiled in appreciation as you painfully sat up. Peeta held the coconut shell to your lips and helped you sip some water before using the leaves to create a bandage for your wound. The sun had set below the horizon at that point and you were definitely ready to go to sleep.
“You can sleep. I’ll keep first watch.” Peeta said as he read your mind. You usually protested and let others sleep first, but you were too tired to do that today.
“Thank you. Wake me up in a few hours so you can sleep too.” You told him as you laid down on the sand. Peeta sat beside you until the morning came and when you woke up, you realized he was in the same exact position as he was when you had fallen asleep.
“Hey.” You said through a yawn that hurt to complete. You winced and touched your side as you tried to sit up. Peeta put a hand on your back to help you sit up and immediately handed you a coconut shell full of water. You smiled graciously at him and drank the whole thing.
“When did you sleep last night?” You asked when you were done.
“I don’t know. Sometimes after-“
“He didn’t.” Finnick cut him off. You looked at Peeta for an explanation and he was red with embarrassment.
“What? You didn’t sleep?” You asked and smacked his arm.
“I tried to take over after I got a few hours but lover boy didn’t let me. He said he needed to make sure you didn’t bleed out.” Finnick continued as he headed towards the water to fish for some breakfast.
“P, you need to sleep. I was fine.” You said and shook his arm.
“I was too. I wasn’t tired.” Peeta replied and you knew he was lying. You gave him a look but he just looked to the side.
“I’m really okay. The salt water helped.” You tried to assure him.
“Oh, yeah. Salt water. We have to keep it clean.” Peeta remembered and stood up. Before you could protest, he scooped you up and carried you to the water. You didn’t complain this time even though it hurt to be in the water. You knew he just needed to take care of you or else he’d lose his mind with worrying. Once he was satisfied, he carried you back to the beach and gently laid you down.
“Are you hungry?” He asked once you were back on the sand.
“I’m all right.” You answered.
“Are you hungry?” Johanna mocked Peeta’s voice in a high pitched manner. You looked at her angrily as Peeta turned red.
“Instead of mocking me, why don’t you do something to help?” He said to her.
“Help how? No one else can get near her because of you. You should’ve seen the way he was watching you last night. I don’t think I ever saw him blink.” Johanna snorted. You looked over at Peeta and he was looking down at his hands with embarrassment. You put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it endearingly.
“It’s nice that Peeta cares so much. He’s right about infection. A lot of people have died from it in these games before they even realize what’s going on.” You defended him, making him smile at you.
“Oh, give me a break.” Johanna groaned. “Why don’t you two make out some more and get us some sponsors?”
“Yeah. Put on a show so we can eat.” Finnick laughed. Peeta shifted uncomfortably and you felt bad for him. You knew your fake relationship was a sensitive subject for him and now he had to listen to his allies mock it.
“Stop it.” You stated. “We’re not doing that.”
“Please? Just say your vows again in front of the camera. I’m starving.” Johanna whined.
“Then go hunt.” You snapped.
“Come on. What’s the point of being allies with the star crossed lovers if you’re not gonna kiss and get us some parachutes?” Finnick asked with a teasing smile.
“I know. I thought we’d at least get something when Peeta nearly lost his mind after not being able to find you for-what was it- two minutes? I thought his head was gonna explode.” Johanna added on.
“So did I.” Finnick agreed. “If you think about it, we don’t even have to kill the other tributes. Let’s just hide Y/n for a few hours and let Peeta kill everyone while he tries to find her.”
“Leave him alone. No more jokes.” You ordered all while Peeta stayed silently looking out at the waves. Everyone was quiet for a minute and you assumed the jokes were finally done. Peeta looked at you and smiled sadly so you took his hand and squeezed it.
“If they show us how they made that baby, I bet the Capital would send us a feast.” Johanna said to cut the silence. Finnick burst out laughing, making Peeta get up and walk away. You watched him walk into the jungle before looking at Johanna and Mason angrily.
“Look what you did. Why’d you have to tease him?” You asked and smacked Finnicks arm.
“Sorry. Go check on him. Tell loverboy I didn’t mean to make him cry.” Finnick pouted teasingly. You rolled your eyes at him and got up off the floor.
“You guys don’t know him. He’s a lot stronger than you give him credit for. Don’t forget that he won his games.” You said in Peeta’s defense. That left Johanna and Finnick silent as you walked off into the jungle in the direction Peeta had gone in. You found him using the spile to get some more water from you. You weren’t even thirsty from how often he’d been getting you water but you weren’t about to tell him that.
“Hey.” You said as you approached him.
“Hey. I was getting you some water.” Peeta said without looking at you. You could tell he was upset by what the others had been and you hated that you couldn’t even talk about it without the cameras picking it up.
“Thank you.” You smiled softly at him as you took the water.
“If you’re hungry, I can go pick some stuff. I know Finnicks been catching a lot of fish so if you need something sweeter, I can try and go find a berry bush.” He offered and still didn’t look in your eyes. You took him face and turned his head so that he had to look at you. He finally looked into your eyes and smiled sadly.
“Thank you.” You said sincerely. “But really, I’m really okay. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I know you can take care of yourself.”
“I can. But I appreciate you taking care of me. I just don’t want you to worry about me so much. We all need to be on high alert. I can’t be taking up your thoughts all the time.”
“But you do.” He said with a sad smile. You smiled back before pulling him into a hug. He hugged you back and was careful not to put his hands anywhere near your wound.
“I’m sorry they were teasing you.” You said into his ear.
“It’s okay. I deserve it for being so sensitive.”
“I like that you’re sensitive. It’s one of my favorite qualities of yours.” You told him as you pulled out of the bush but kept your arms around him.
“One of?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I like your banana bread too.” You replied, making him roll his eyes.
“Oh great. She likes my banana bread.” He chuckled. “That’s not one of my qualities.”
“I know. But I think about it all the time. I smell it sometimes in my dreams.”
“I’ll make you some when we go home. Your own loaf.” He promised you.
“I can’t wait.” You said through a sad laugh. You knew there was no possibility of that happening, but it made you happy to imagine anyway.
“Do you think we’ll go home?” Peeta asked after a beat of silence.
“I don’t know. We did last time.”
“Yeah but what are the chances of that happening again?” He said quietly.
“I try not to think about it.” You admitted.
“Me too. That’s why I spend so much time thinking about you.” Peeta replied. You looked into his puppy dog eyes for a while and stayed in comfortable silence. Peeta stared at you and touched your hair to keep himself grounded.
“I killed that guy.” Peeta said suddenly in a quiet voice.
“The one who attacked me?”
“Yeah. Him. I threw an axe at him. I could’ve just punched him but I didn’t. I went for the kill.”
“Why?” You wondered. You weren’t mad, it just wasn’t like Peeta to kill someone.
“Because he attacked you.” Peeta said simply.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you kill.”
“I didn’t either.” He admitted. “Do you think differently of me?”
“No. As long as you don’t try to kill me now that you’ve tasted your first blood.” You joked.
“I would never hurt you.” Peeta said sincerely.
“Oh, I know. I was just kidding.” You assured him.
“I know. I just…I don’t think you understand what you mean to me. I saw that guy put his hands on you and I just lost it. I saw red. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I thought he was gonna take you from me.” Peeta’s voice cracked on the last part so you pulled him back into a hug. You swayed back and forth and rubbed his back to calm him down.
“Hey, hey, hey. I’m okay. You saved me.” You said in his ear.
“I can’t lose you.” He sniffled and hugged you tighter.
“You won’t.”
“I can’t.” He repeated. “So when I’m a pain about keeping your wound clean or drinking some water, please just listen to me. I need to know that you’re okay.”
“Okay. I can do that.” You assured him.
“You better. Because I swear to God, if you die-“
You cut Peeta off by pulling out of the hug to kiss him instead. Peeta stiffened for a moment at the unexpected contact but then melted into the kiss. The kiss didn’t last very long because Peeta got in his head about the motive behind the kiss.
“You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to.” He pulled away to whisper to you.
“I know that.” You said simply and reconnected his lips in a kiss. Peeta cupped your face to keep you close as he kissed you back. His insecurities melted away into the kiss and he let himself believe you really did feel the same.
“Hey, lovebirds. Get a room or join us for breakfast.” Finnick called from the beach. You pulled out of the kiss and rested your forehead against his.
“I wish he’d leave us alone.” Peeta sighed.
“I got this.” You told Peeta and turned to Finnick.
“I thought you wanted to see how we made the baby?” You called back. You could hear Finnick laugh as he walked back to the water to catch more fish. All while Peeta was a blushing mess over what you were implying.
“You hungry?” You asked Peeta once you were alone again.
“Can we just stay here for a while?” He asked you. You smiled and nodded your head to show him you weren’t going anywhere.
“As long as you want.”
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