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#they still have a number of things to worry about
taasgirl · 18 hours
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blame - driver!reader x grid
summary: driver!reader goes to war protecting her teammate and best friend, max verstappen.
a/n: this is NOT a romance smau!!
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liked by user76, user98, and 6, 872, 014 others f1 Following a breach of conditions set by the FIA, Max Verstappen will serve a mandatory community service period.
tagged: maxverstappen1
ynusername just say ya'll can't handle him and move on!!!
user27 be careful y/n, they'll send you too user46 HAHA SHE'S SO REAL
user51 this is so stupid
user90 who decided this???
user75 Okay I understand him getting community service for the Ocon incident, but for swearing?
user21 they're treating max like he's a child
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liked by oscarpiastri, redbullracing, and 2, 379, 918 others ynusername unbothered, moisturised, and definitely plotting to overthrow the fia!
tagged: maxverstappen1
user59 My dreams 5 minutes before my alarm:
user61 y/n and max are never beating the platonic soulmates allegations
user87 Get yourself a teammate that fights the FIA on your behalf @/estebanocon
maxverstappen1 I was going to say something nice then I saw the last photo.
ynusername pls still compliment me x
oscarpiastri I agree with the caption
landonorris ur too ashy to be moisturised
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view ynusername's story...
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caption only the FIA could ruin a beautiful flight @/alex_albon
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liked by carlossainz55, alex_albon, and 1, 256, 280 others ynusername me and bro suiting up to destroy the FIA
tagged: carlossainz55, landonorris
lewishamilton This is why you're my favourite on the grid
ynusername this is why you're the 🐐
oscarpiastri Hey I hope you were joking when you said you'd be turning into a grid terror haha (please be joking)
ynusername don't worry ur safe xx
landonorris WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS Y/N???
landonorris If me and my gang pull up ahh post
ynusername yup you're now my number one target for unironically using 'ahh'
maxverstappen1 I hope I am bro
ynusername there's no one i'd rather serve community service with
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liked by fernandoalo_oficial, lewishamilton, and 3, 287, 3389 others ynusername don't worry I won't actually replicate crashgate. however, please know that I have free reign over my radio xx
landonorris Thank god u had me scared for a minute
user49 y/n is taking this too far 😭
ynusername oh i can go further if needed
lewishamilton HAHA this is gold y/n
ynusername when I have the praise of sir lewis hamilton then I know that I'm doing something right
user20 OMG Y/N GOING INSANE ON RADIO IS A NEEEED
user91 y/n is the only reason i'm tuning in this weekend
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view ynusername's story...
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caption: I have some business to attend to this sunday afternoon
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liked by user62, user87, and 209, 557 others f1updates Not shy on the radio so far! Y/N on the formation lap, and she'd already quizzing her engineer.
user83 she's so unserious i love her
user90 This is my sign to strictly watch her onboard today
user41 y/n really is going to put on a show huh
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liked by user 34, user75, and 1, 722, 981 others f1updates A few of the unhinged thing's Y/N was saying during today's race. Safe to say that she may be sporting a ban for the next race.
user38 her engineer replying with 'affirm' is so fucking funny to me
user92 And ya'll still wonder why she's my fave driver
user47 THE WAY THIS ISN'T EVEN EVERYTHING SHE SAID
user28 what else did she say??
user47 @/user28 she went on a whole tangent about how stroll is a prick that shouldn't be in f1 😭😭
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liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, and 3, 615, 248 others ynusername FIA knew I'd be too powerful for another race (hey at least bestie doesn't have to do community service).
maxverstappen1 You're insane I love you
ynusername dinner is still on you right?
landonorris NOOOOOO RIP Y/N
ynusername bitch i'm still alive
oscarpiastri Welcome back Kevin Magnussen liked by ynusername
redbullracing She might be crazy, but she's our kind of crazy!
ynusername pls keep me employed ya'll
view landonorris's story...
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caption Yes, she still has the helmet on
view maxverstappen1's story...
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caption Okay time for us to get to work
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eeee i hope you guys liked this, please let me know if you did!
512 notes · View notes
hoshifighting · 1 day
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I was reading your leaving after a fight reaction and o got an idea could you please do one where reader leaves and goes to a bar and gets drunk they get a call from the bar and it’s just fluff
seventeen reacting to you getting drunk after a fight WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and arguments, & fluff too.
seungcheol grabs his keys, his mind racing. he can’t let you drown in this. when he arrives at the bar, he spots you immediately. you’re laughing with a group, a glass in hand. “hey!” he snaps, but the bark in his tone quickly fades as you turn to him “what the hell are you doing? this isn’t fun. you need to come home.” he tries to keep his voice steady, but the concern leaks through. “why? so we can fight more?” you roll your eyes, but u look vulnerable still. “you think you’re perfect? you’re not!” “i never said that. im just taking care of you” he bites. your eyes soften, and relief washes over him as you touch his arm, guiding him toward the door.
jeonghan's phone buzzes, cutting through his thoughts. it’s the bar, and his stomach drops. “on my way,” he snaps, not bothering to hide the urgency in his voice. when he arrives you turn, a grin spreading across your face that makes his heart ache. “jeonghan! come join the party!” “this isn’t a party! you need to come home y/n.” he reaches for the glass in your hand, gently prying it away. “let’s go home and talk this out. please babygirl” you hesitate, the fire in your eyes dimming as you look at him, the fight leaving your body.
joshua dont hop into the car, he throws himself in!!! he asks the bar number if you're doing okay as he drives. “there you are,” he says, pushing through the crowd. you know joshua cares too much. he’s sweet like that, always wanting to shield you from everything, even yourself. you look down at the bar top, the wood grain swirling under your fingertips. “i just... needed a break.” “from me?” he asks, sadly. you bite your lip. joshua’s expression softens, and he reaches out, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “can we just talk about it? please?” u glance up, meeting his gaze, and it feels like home. “fine. but only if u promise to stop being so fucking cute when we fight.” he chuckles, relief flooding his features. “no promises, babe.”
junhui “where are you?” he texts after the call, worry oozing through the words. “out,” you reply tersely, taking another drink. “the bar? seriously?” “what if i am?” you shoot back, but inside, you know you’re pushing him away. “stay there. i’ll be there soon.” “don’t bother,” you type, but your heart sinks at the thought of him not showing up. a short while later, the door swings open, and there he is—his hair a little messy, eyes scanning the room until they land on you. he strides over, concern etched into his features. “what are you doing?” he asks, taking the seat next to you. “just enjoying my night,” you reply, a little too defensively. he raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “by drinking alone?” “i’m not alone; i have my drink,” you mutter, taking a long sip as if it could drown your frustration. he leans closer, his voice dropping to a gentle tone. “you know that’s not what i meant. you’re not okay. let me take care of you baby? hm?” you nod, feeling the walls you built starting to crumble. “fine, but if you keep looking at me like that, i might just forgive you too easily.”
hoshi wrinkled his nose the moment he smelled the strong drink you were drinking, he was clearly sweating like he was running a marathon to get to where you were. “you’re mad at me, but this isn’t how we solve things... you know you can tell me anything, right? even if it’s hard?” you take a deep breath, feeling the tension in your chest begin to ease. “i just hate fighting with you. it feels like we’re always stuck in this cycle.” “i hate it too,” he admits, reaching for your hand. “but running away doesn’t fix it. let’s talk.” “talk? like, actually talk?” you tease, a small smile creeping onto your face. “yeah, that thing where we don’t just yell at each other,” he says, grinning back. “i’m pretty good at it.” you can’t help but laugh, the sound lightening the mood.
wonwoo slides the helmet, and hops on his motorcycle, a few moments later, the door swings open, and there he is—hands in his pockets, that serious yet soft expression making your heart ache. he spots you and makes his way over, concern etched in his features. “you’re really here,” he says, his voice low. “didn’t think you’d come,” you reply, trying to sound indifferent, but you're soft. “and leave you alone like this? not a chance.” he sits beside you, his presence instantly calming. you glance at him, catching the way his brows furrow slightly. he squeezes your hand and kisses your neck softly “let's go home, hm? i'll give u a nice warm bath and we'll talk before going to bed, is that okay, sweetie?”
woozi strides over the bar, hair messy, body stiff, eyes worried, after the call, and you can see the scolding ready to spill from his lips. “i can’t believe you left without telling me. i was worried sick. you really just left? you could’ve told me!” “ listen jihoon, i didn’t want to fight anymore. it was too much.” he flinches, he didn't mean to snap at you, but he was really worried. “i get it,” he replies quietly, his voice gentler now. “but you know you can tell me when it gets too heavy, right?” you take a deep breath, the tension in your shoulders easing just a little. “what do u say we talk about it over ice cream? my treat,” he suggests, a playful grin breaking through. “ice cream sounds perfect,” you reply, matching his smile. “you always know how to fix things.” “it’s a talent,” he jokes, and you can’t help but laugh, the heaviness of earlier fading into something sweet.
minghao asks the bartended to pass the phone to you, “i’m coming to get you,” minghao’s voice is steady, cutting through your haze. “you shouldn’t be there.” “i’m fine,” you snap, but even you can hear the slight slur in your words. he knows you better than that. “you’re not,” he replies. when minghao finally walks in, the door swings open, and the bell jingles, like a damn superhero coming to save the day. “hey,” he says softly, the frown on his face deepening as he takes in your state. “you look… rough.” “yeah, well, thanks for the observation,” you retort, but there’s no real bite in your words. he steps closer, the scent of him wrapping around you like a familiar hug. “i didn’t ask you to come.” “no, but you need me,” he counters, taking your hand, grounding you. his touch makes your cheeks flush, and you can’t help but lean into him, feeling the fight inside you melt away. “let’s talk, okay? i love you and I hate fighting with you.” you melt, and minghao smiles small.
mingyu in quesiton of minutes was there, tall and worried searching for you on the bar, the call made him stumble on his feet on his way there. “you really shouldn’t be here,” you murmur, but your heart races as he approaches, the worry etched on his face only making you want to lean into him. “and you shouldn’t be here alone. we both know you’ll feel worse if you stay out like this. just let me take care of you.” the softness in his tone makes your heart twist. “you don’t have to play the hero.” “but i want to,” he insists, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his. the warmth of his grip pulls you back from the edge of your frustration, reminding you of everything you love about him. “please?” you take a deep breath, the tension in your shoulders easing as you look into his eyes. “fine. let’s go home.” “thank you,” he whispers, pulling you into a hug that feels like coming home, before arriving in.
seokmin not even five minutes later appears on the bar, seokmin steps inside, scanning the crowd until his eyes land on you. relief floods his expression, and he rushes over, pulling you into his arms before you can say a word. “what the hell, you scared me,” he murmurs, hugging your back tightly. his warmth seeps into you, and you can’t help but melt a little. “you’re drunk.” his concern wraps around you like a blanket, and suddenly, the anger feels distant. “let’s get you out of here,” he whispers, still holding you close. “i don’t want you to feel like this.” “it’s just… everything’s a mess,” you admit, your voice cracking a bit. “we were fighting and—” “i know,” he interrupts softly, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “but we can talk about it later. right now, i just want to make sure you’re okay.” the sincerity in his gaze makes you want to cry, and you nod slowly. “okay.” he smiles gently, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “let’s go home, yeah?”
seungkwan the minutes tick by slowly, and every time the door swings open, your heart skips a beat. finally, you spot him striding in, “it’s… it’s not safe for you to be out like this,” he says. you pout. “i can take care of myself.” “you’re making this harder than it has to be,” he grumbles. as you slide off the bar stool, he’s already there, an arm around your waist, guiding you out. you laugh, the sound a bit shaky. “u should try being less of a pain in the ass, kwanniee” you tease, but it’s soft, a flicker of something sweet cutting through the tension. he smirks, finally breaking into a grin. “noted. now, let’s get you home before you say something else you’ll regret.”
vernon would keep his emotions bottled up, when he's almost purple in worry, would run to the bar fast, breathing properly only when he finally sees you. “i don’t need you to babysit me,” you sulk when you feel him taking you from the bar stool, “just… please? for once, let me be the responsible one,” he replies squeezing your waist. “oh, shut up,” you say, rolling your eyes but unable to hide the smile creeping onto your face. “i was just having a good time.” “more like trying to forget about our fight,” he counters, crossing his arms, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes. “let’s get you home before you embarrass yourself further.”
chan before the bartender ended the call, was already on the way. the moment he reaches you, he slips an arm around your shoulder, guiding you away from the noise. “you okay?” he asks, searching your face with those steady eyes. you can see the maturity in his expression, the way he balances concern in his heart with the logic, “i will be,” you say, though you know it’s not entirely trrue. his presence calms the storm brewing inside you, and u lean into him. “you’re allowed to feel things,” he expresses, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. “but next time, can we talk instead of shouting? i’d rather understand what you’re going through.” you nod, the way he watches over you even after an imense fight. “yeah, that sounds good babe...” he smiles with the full of love name.
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thedensworld · 12 hours
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The Moves | K.Mg
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Pairing: Mingyu x reader
Genre: Suggestive, humour
Summary: Here's the plan, get you on the bed.
Title number 50!
Mingyu had been restless these past few days. He missed you, and all he could do was stare at his phone, waiting for any sign of life from you. Mingyu had never been the type to get desperate. In fact, he's always been a man full of ego and pride. But ever since you came into his life, all of that had been tossed in the bin. Now, you were the priority.
Sure, Mingyu could have just bought a ticket, hopped on the next flight, and come straight to you. But he knows you too well—he knows you’d hate that, and that’s exactly why he’s been so restless ever since you left for that business trip.
He grabbed his phone from the coffee table, his thumb idly scrolling through articles to distract himself. One caught his eye: "5 Moves That Will Have Women on Their Knees." He snorted, amused. Mingyu did love seeing you on your knees, but honestly, he'd probably be the one on his knees for you. Either way, it worked out.
As he kept reading, ideas started forming in his mind. Maybe he could surprise you when you got back, do these five things and drive you wild:
1. A strong-Proximity stare after a hug or kiss
2. Gentle touch at the right moment
3. Whisper sweet, sultry compliments—mostly about how irresistible you look, of course.
4. Pin your hands above your head and take his time with you during make out.
5. Lock eyes during… well, you know.
He chuckled to himself. Okay, maybe this was making him sound like a total perv, or a man with a serious sensual streak, but he couldn't help it. It’s been a week since he last touched you, and all the conversations between you had been through texts, calls, or video chats—if you weren’t swamped with work. And he'd be lying if he said he didn’t miss you in bed.
With a heavy sigh, Mingyu leaned back on the couch. He had to admit it—he was a desperate man now. Desperate for you.
A notification from his phone caught Mingyu’s attention immediately. He glanced down and saw it was your message, letting him know you had arrived safely in South Korea and were on your way home with your manager. A wave of relief washed over him, and without thinking, he kicked the air in excitement before quickly typing back, "See you soon, my love."
He didn’t waste another second—he headed straight to the shower, the anticipation of seeing you building with each passing minute.
An hour later, Mingyu stood by the curb, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, trying his hardest to resist the overwhelming urge to pull you into his arms. Your manager was still there, after all. But the second you stepped out of the car, his heart leaped. He hadn’t seen you in what felt like forever, and everything in him screamed to close the distance between you.
He busied himself with your luggage, exchanging polite goodbyes with your manager, before finally following you into the house. Once the door clicked shut behind him, he set your luggage down near the entryway.
"Hi. How are you?" You asked softly, turning to him as you peeled off your jacket and tossed it onto the nearby chair. Your eyes, though tired, softened as you opened your arms.
Mingyu didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward and embraced you tightly, as if afraid to let go. God, he missed this. He missed your warmth, your familiar scent, the way you fit perfectly in his arms. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling the faint scent of your shampoo, and felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over him. Your hugs weren’t just comforting; they were his sanctuary, a place where all his worries seemed to melt away.
"I missed you so much," you whispered against his chest, voice laced with exhaustion. He kissed the top of your head, murmuring back, "I missed you like crazy. I wanted to hop on a flight to LA so badly."
You let out a small chuckle, though he could feel the weight of your weariness. "How was the shooting?" he asked gently, his arms still wrapped around you, unwilling to let go just yet.
You shook your head slowly, the frustration clear without needing words. Mingyu's heart clenched at the sight of your exhaustion. He tightened his hold, his other hand coming up to rub soothing circles on your back. "It's okay, love," he said softly. "You can tell me all about it when you're ready."
You pulled him even closer, as though you wanted to meld your bodies together, to make up for every second of distance between you over the past days. Mingyu could feel how much you needed this closeness, the way you trembled slightly against him, and it only made him want to shield you from everything.
"Later," you whispered, your voice small and tired. He kissed your forehead, a silent promise of understanding. "Take your time," he said gently.
Mingyu held you a little longer, savoring the moment, thankful that you were finally home. Nothing else mattered as long as you were there, in his arms, where you belonged.
*
Mingyu sat at the dining table, a soft smile tugging at his lips as his eyes followed your every movement in the kitchen. It had been a while since he’d seen you in your element, confidently moving around and preparing a meal. Watching you cook brought back memories of all the times he’d admired your skill, but more than that, it reminded him how much he loved savoring the food you made with such care. There was something so intimate, so comforting, in the simple act of seeing you master the kitchen.
You came over with two plates in hand, setting one in front of him with a quick peck on his cheek—the sweetest finishing touch. Mingyu grinned, feeling warmth spread through him. Tonight’s dinner was pasta, and he was more than ready to devour it.
"Thanks for the food," he said, his eyes sparkling as he dug in.
After dinner, you settled on the couch, your eyes fixed on the TV as a Western drama played on the screen. Mingyu, however, couldn’t bring himself to focus on the show. Instead, his gaze lingered on you, admiring the way the soft light from the screen illuminated your face. He had missed this—missed you. It wasn’t just your presence he craved, but the small, quiet moments like this when the world slowed down and it was just the two of you.
You turned your head, feeling his gaze, and gave him a curious look. "Why are you watching me?" you asked, a hint of worry in your voice. "Is something wrong?"
Mingyu sighed, feeling a flicker of guilt for making you worry. He shook his head, rubbing his face as he mumbled, "I just missed you."
"You missed me?" You raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in your eyes at his sudden confession.
Mingyu leaned back against the couch, feeling a slight heat rise to his cheeks. "Yes," he admitted, more confidently this time, though the blush deepened.
You stood up from your spot beside him and without a word, moved to sit on his lap. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a warm embrace, your love and affection evident in every movement. Mingyu’s hands instinctively found their place around your waist, as if they had always belonged there. It was second nature now, this closeness, this comfort. Every time you were alone with him, it seemed like you always ended up in his arms, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
He held you tight, his fingers gently tracing circles on your back, while you rested your head against his chest. For a moment, neither of you said anything, content to just exist in the peaceful silence, the unspoken love between you filling the room.
Is it time to make a move? Mingyu thought, his pulse quickening as he gazed at you.
You pulled back slightly, but Mingyu’s hands remained firmly on your waist, keeping you seated on his lap. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with adoration, but beneath that was a simmering desire.
Number one: a strong, lingering stare after a hug or kiss.
You smiled at him, your hands gently cupping his face, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks. Mingyu leaned into your touch, savoring the warmth of your hands. His fingers began to explore the contours of your body, tracing familiar lines as he slowly leaned in for a kiss.
Number two: a gentle touch at the right moment.
His lips met yours, soft at first, but as the kiss deepened, his hands moved with more purpose. He pulled away from your mouth just long enough to pepper your neck and shoulders with soft kisses, each one sending shivers through you. His mouth hovered near your ear, nibbling lightly before he whispered in a low, breathy voice, "You look so beautiful… it’s almost painful."
His fingers deftly began to unbutton your pajama top as he murmured, "I just want to make you feel good," his voice raspy and filled with desire.
Number three: whisper sweet, sultry compliments.
The kiss grew more heated, more urgent, as Mingyu lowered you onto the couch, his body hovering over yours. Your hands found their way under his shirt, your fingers tracing the lines of his toned skin, igniting the passion between you. The tension was palpable, each kiss more intense than the last. Without warning, he gently took your hands from his body and pinned them above your head, holding you in place. He paused, breaking the kiss just long enough to gaze down at you. His breath caught as he admired how breathtaking you looked, flushed and beautiful beneath him.
"I love you," he whispered, his voice full of sincerity and longing, before claiming your lips again.
Number four: pin her hands above her head and take his time during the make-out.
Everything was building to this moment, but Mingyu was patient, savoring every touch, every kiss. The anticipation hung heavy in the air, and as he hovered above you, he realized he was falling deeper in love with by every second.
The final move? It was just about a matter of time.
Mingyu took his time with you, showering you with compliments about your body and the effect you had on him every time you were together. He sighed in pleasure when your hand found his, loving how you made him feel.
"Babe..." you mumbled, but Mingyu couldn’t care less. He was too busy exploring your mouth and savoring your softness.
Then you dropped a bombshell. "I'm on my period."
Mingyu froze, a stunned silence enveloping the room for what felt like an eternity. "Seriously?" he finally asked, disbelief etched on his face. You nodded, heat rushing to your cheeks from the embarrassment of your confession.
He buried his head in your shoulder, laughter bubbling up. What kind of comedy was this? He had been mentally counting the moves he’d read about in that article, "5 Moves to Make Women on Their Knees." But how could he attempt the fifth one when you two had agreed never to go there while you were on your period?
With a heavy sigh, Mingyu shifted away from you, sitting up and leaving you still lying on the couch. "I’m sorry... I just couldn't control it. I really miss you," he said, frustration creasing his brow as he rubbed his face.
"No, don’t be sorry. I should be the one apologizing. I should have told you sooner," you replied, squatting in front of him and gently pulling his hands away from his beautiful face.
He sighed again, but you could still see a hint of a smile playing on his lips, as if he found the situation amusing. "Why are you smiling?" you asked, genuinely puzzled.
Mingyu shook his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "I’m still hard," he whispered, resting his head back on your shoulder.
What you said next took him by surprise. "Want me to take care of it?"
He couldn’t believe his ears. He didn’t need to deploy any of the five moves to get you on your knees. All the embarrassment and longing suddenly felt worth it. Mingyu's heart raced at the thought, and he couldn't help but grin. This was turning into an unexpected night, and he was all in.
He's glas he's married to you.
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see-arcane · 2 days
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It's a special day in Dracula!
Jonathan experiences a flashback to the Horrors, Mina experiences bisexuality in the wild, and the poor nameless Pretty Girl in Piccadilly rides out of the story, parcel in hand and chic cartwheel hat on, oblivious to the Count stalking after her. In honor of the anonymous young lady who proves for a third time that Dracula and Mina have literally the exact same taste—Jonathan, Lucy, random beauties on the street—I wanted to take a crack at giving her an identity.
But I am also indecisive as hell, so she can be one of a number of pretty persons of note. For example…
Miss Piccadilly #1: Clarimonde
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My original favorite choice, if only because I love the idea of Clarimonde still cruising around after the heartbreak she left behind in her own story, “La Morte Amoureuse” (The Dead Woman in Love), aka “Clarimonde.” She is now and always the undead Parisian party queen of my heart, but I could see her traveling around to dabble in hedonism in other corners of the world. Naturally she has to go and catch the attention of the local aristos. Human or otherwise.
But, of course, she is psychic and can read Dracula like a bloodstained book. Keep walking, bat bastard. Her vampiric voluptuousness is reserved for VIPs. (Maybe that fetching mourning couple she saw gawking in the park…)
Miss Piccadilly #2: Helen Vaughan
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Oh, Helen Vaughan, elegant hostess and demigoddess horror supreme. I don’t care what Arthur Machen says, your story did not end with the conclusion of The Great God Pan. You were life and death and human and beast and all the hideous realities in-between and a mortal end could never keep you down. Especially not when you have so many paramours left to entertain! So many secrets profane and maddening to share! One of these days you’ll catch one who won’t dissolve into madness and self-destruction after a little innocent eldritch chit-chat.
Like this charming Count here! Count? Count, where are you going? Count, she just wants you to meet her dad—why are you running? Why are you running?
Miss Piccadilly #3: Luna Blue
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What’s this? An OC?
Well, of course. No one’s actually naming their child Luna Blue in the late 1800s; that’s just her professional pseudonym. It’s amazing how well the spiritualist movement can work out for a girl with a knack for shuffling painted cards or chatting with the night sky and the occasional planchette. She can even boast something more than showmanship behind her skill. The sort of ‘something’ that worried Transylvanians might whisper about in fear on a certain haunted date while a likewise worried solicitor breaks out the polyglot dictionary.
She recognizes Dracula for what he is as surely as he recognizes her. No, she is not interested, voivode. Even if she was, she’d be out a benefactor within—a hard look at him here; cold and far—oh dear. Scarcely more than a month. At least by her guess. But oh, there is good news in his future too! He shall cross paths with an old friend soon! How lovely. She’s certain these things are not connected. Don’t even worry about it.
Miss Piccadilly #4: Cosette Marchand
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The fourth and final young lady in the roster is one more original character and she deserves absolutely none of the horror coming her way. This is Miss Cosette Marchand, an artist by hobby and profession. The parcel received from the jeweler’s was a commissioned necklace and earrings she designed herself. A glittering birthday gift for her mother who will chide her for such an extravagance, Cosy, she has no place to wear such things! But they are lovely…
She’s so lost in her daydreaming that she doesn’t realize the hansom behind her has been following the victoria since leaving Piccadilly Square. All the way home. Home, where there are no bloodletting suitors, no wise professors, no divine or diabolic powers to forestall the natural progression of things between predator and prey. There is only a nightmare waiting for her, unobstructed.
…By anything other than my own bleeding heart. I’m too attached. She has to make it.
So.
How does Miss Marchand’s story go?
Turns out, her mother has some experience in these matters. Her mother being one Laura Marchand, who left a thirsty terror of her own behind twenty years ago. One she has mourned as much as feared in the time between the love of a husband eaten by war and the sharper kisses of a girl far more than a friend or living being. She recognizes the sour reflection of Carmilla’s eagerness in the Thing pretending to be a nobleman at the door. She still has General Spielsdorf’s axe. She has kept the steel sharp. Tonight she will whet it sharper still, from dusk until dawn.
You see all that yellow in her dress. It’s recently become one of her favorite colors, owing to a most diverting play she happened to read. Such lush storytelling! What decadent inspiration! She simply had to design something fine in honor of it. She does hope her mother will appreciate the artful way the gold was wrought, twisting in echo of the Sign. A mother who has gone so strangely still since she happened to glance at the second act of the play. Still and cold. Perhaps she will be cheered by her gift and their guests. There is a nobleman at the door, Mother! And there, see, leaking from the yellow damask wall is His Tattered Majesty—oh. Where has their visitor gone? He shall miss the masquerade! Ah, well. His loss.
Scheherazade…2! In which Miss Marchand pulls a Jonathan by stalling via playing to charm and utility. She wears many hats beside the cartwheel when it comes to the arts. Portraiture, fashion in fabric and ornaments. Surely the Count can savor the spider-and-fly game a little longer for that and some pretty panicked smiles. Look how much patience and frustration he burned on Lucy! Yes, yes, a little while longer to draw things out, play at flirtation between artist and patron, isn’t this nice? Ha ha. (Please don’t drink me please don’t drink me please don’t drink me.)
Well. She got drinked. And maybe succumbed to death before the Count could get slain. But the bat bastard does get put down eventually and she still gets to pop back up! Good news: She’s not under the Count’s thrall! She can think and act for herself! Nice! Bad news: Vampire. At least she can drink her problems* away. (*Problems with names like Atherton, Wotton, Gray…)
Her neighbors are the other three Piccadilly girls. Dracula makes his way downtown, walking fast, walking faster— 
Werewolf free space.
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engie-ivy · 1 day
Text
(Trying something new. Love to hear if you like🙂)
1021 words
High School Conversations
Edgar Bones
“So, how about it, Lupin?”
“... Come again?”
“You. Me. Drinks. It ain't rocket science.”
“No, I actually understand rocket science. You're not making any sense.”
“I want to take you on a date, Lupin.”
“But…why?”
“Why not?”
“For starters, I'm a loner who likes to spend his free time reading a book, while you're a star athlete who's almost the most popular guy at school.”
“Almost?”
“Well, there's-”
“Okay, okay, I know. Don't mention him.”
“So, it's ridiculous for you to want to go on a date with me.”
“It's ridiculous for someone like you to say no to someone like me.”
“‘Someone like me’ might not want to date someone he has so little in common with.”
“Don't be difficult, Loopy.”
"Calling me that won't increase your chances.”
“You should be grateful I'm even willing to spend my time on you.”
“You know what, Bones? Here's my answer: Fuck. You.”
Marlene McKinnon
“Hi there, Loopy Lupin.”
“Good god, what's going on today?”
“Why, that's not a very kind greeting.”
“Why are you talking to me, McKinnon?”
“I heard Edgar Bones asked you out.”
“And I said no, so don't worry, he's all yours.”
"The fact that you'd think I'd be interested in Bones is even more insulting than that rude greeting of yours.”
“I just don't understand what's going on today. First the school's jock, now the head cheerleader. Honestly, is it Talk to a Geek Day or something?”
“No, I think that's in March.”
“What is it, McKinnon?”
“I just want to ask you some questions.”
“I'm really not in the mood for-”
“Question Number One. Who is the most popular guy in school?”
“Sirius Black, of course. With his bad boy-image and that leather jacket of his, but his still perfect grades, that effortless charisma that lets him get away with anything, his guitar playing and that voice, his impossibly attractive smile, and that always-perfect-hair…”
“...”
“Or, ehm, at least that's what all those girls pining after him would say.”
“Of course. Your cheeks have turned a bit red there, Loopy.”
“So is your next question going to be who the most popular girl in school is? If you're just fishing for compliments you could've just said so.”
“Cute how you think I'd need your confirmation. But no, my next question is who is the second-most popular guy in school.”
“Edgar Bones.”
“What, no raving monologue for Bones?”
“Shut it, McKinnon.”
“And how would you describe the relationship between Black and Bones?”
“What is this, Twenty Questions?”
“I hope I won't need twenty, no. Answer this one please.”
“A rivalry. Or, well, a one-sided rivalry, that is. I don't think Black ever wastes much of his time on Bones, but Bones is obsessed with outdoing Black.”
“Like how?”
“Well, when Black wants a motorcycle, Bones wants a motorcycle, when Black gets his ears pierced, Bones gets his ears pierced, when Black starts a band, Bones starts a band. Basically, Bones wants everything Black wants.”
“Exactly. Now, how would a clever boy such as yourself combine this information with Bones asking you out?”
“... I don't know.”
“Oh, I think you do, Loopy. I think you do.”
“No, because the logical inference of the information you're presenting would be that Black wants… me, and there's no logic to be found in that.”
“Black fancies you, Lupin.”
“No. Just… No.”
“Yes. Just yes.”
“McKinnon, maybe for a head cheerleader the most popular guy in school fancying you is within the realm of possibility, but not for us geeky bookworms.”
“Ask Black out, then you'll see.”
“Is this a prank?”
“I'm wounded, Loopy. You think me so cruel?”
“The head cheerleader playing a prank on me is more likely than the high school heartthrob fancying me.”
“Well, since you're so obsessed with the head cheerleader-thing, let me put it this way.
Hey, Hey, Hear Me Cheer,
Hey, Hey, Hear Me Shout,
Lupin Should Ask Black Out!”
“Oh, for god sakes, please stop!”
“Lupin Might Be Geeky As Hell,
Black Just Thinks He's Swell!”
“Please get off the table!”
“Hey, Hey, Lupin Boy,
I've Got News You Might Enjoy!”
“I'll do it, okay? Just stop! Stop, and I'll ask him out.”
“Thank you.”
“You're a nightmare. I don't know why Dorcas likes you so much.”
“Wait, what?”
Sirius Black
“Oh, hello, Lupin.”
“Ehm, hi. So, ehm, a little birdie told me…”
“Mmm, was it a cheering birdie named Marlene?”
“Yup. Look, I know that a guy like me should drop to his knees and praise the lord if a guy like you would even breathe in his direction…”
“What are you talking about?”
“That you're probably expecting me to be grateful for any bit of attention you're willing to pay me, but…”
“Wait, what? Lupin, if anything, you are out of my league.”
“Excuse me?”
“Gods, you're so smart, and you read so many books, while I hardly ever read, and you have such an amazing dry sense of humour, with all those sharp, sarcastic remarks, you make my pranks seem juvenile, and I wear leather jackets and band tees, sure, but you can just wear cardigans and sweater vests and still look so unique and cool, and you have this calming presence over you, like when you're reading and you're chewing your lip in that way that you do…”
“You… you've noticed me.”
“Of course I have. You think I would fancy you without knowing anything about you?”
“Well, yeah. I thought… I didn't think… I don't know, I thought maybe you were bored or something?”
“This is not about me being bored, or about me wanting to shock people, or about me trying to stir the pot, or anything about me really. This is about you. You as a person.”
“You actually…”
“Yeah, I actually.”
“I… I promised that I would… No, screw that. I want to ask you out.”
“I think it's clear by now I would very much be okay with that.”
“Good god, I can't believe these words are coming out of my mouth, but Sirius Black, will you go out with me?”
“I'd love to, Remus Lupin.”
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abdallahblog0 · 10 hours
Text
Will I be just a number, will my soul not matter, will I die young at 20 and my dreams go with me?!!!!
Can you donate the cost of a morning cup of coffee?
I have posted my campaign a lot (knowing that the internet is very slow, hard to get and not free) but what is the result? Only a few people have cared about me, I don't know what to do, I will post another and if nothing changes this will be my last post and thank you all
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I am a university student and I always imagined my dreams and my future. I dreamed of becoming a doctor, but unfortunately the war came and my university was destroyed. I want to travel abroad and I want to complete my studies and dreams. I want a life free of bombing. I want a life that has the basics of life. I do not want a life of luxury. I just want the basics!!! (Water, food, electricity, safety, education, medicine, net)
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I want to put pictures of me before the war and pictures after the war, so that you know how much the war affected us and how difficult and destructive it was and how much we suffered
BEFORE
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AFTER
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I think everything is clear from the pictures, it is clear how the war affected us
This is a previous post of mine that you can view.
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My campaign has been verified 3 times.
1- @90-ghost LINKS VITTED
2- @gaza-evacuation-funds LINE315
3- @heba-20 LINK VITTED
You can donate from
1- GFM
2- PAYPAL
3 - GOGETFUNDING
(My old campaign but it still works normally but people know GFM site more)
@sayruq @sar-soor @90-ghost @vakarians-babe @northgazaupdates2 @helppeople @ibtisams @appsa @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @feluka @el-shab-hussein @sayruq @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @vivisection-gf @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @ibtisams @animentality @kordeliiius @brutaliakhoa @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @the-bastard-king @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2 @90-ghost @skatehani @awetistic-things @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @morallyrainyday
@jonpertwee @flipton @bell-bones @ragingbullmode @envytherose
@rodent178 @tangledinourstrings @kraigerzz-blog
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hisunflower · 6 hours
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 𓈒 𓈒 ✿ ˚ boyfriend | lee jeno,
who loves the little moments with you.
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genre: fluff, smut, boyfriend!jeno | contains: soft!jeno, switch couple, cursing, small dialogue, 18+ mdni, sex mentioned !
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boyfriend!jeno who was adorably quiet upon his first impression of meeting through mutuals (he turned out to be the softest, sweetest and silliest guy you’ve ever known—compared to his hard outward appearance—you had no idea he’d be like this…who would??~).
boyfriend!jeno who is still shy around you at certain moments, like when you change in front of him in the dressing room, seeing you in your bra and panties always gets a rush out of him, but seeing how a dress hugs your body sends him over the edge (“babe, can you help me zip this up?” you can tell he’s nervous when he zips up your dress, but it’s so cute how he’s still so giddy about you).
boyfriend!jeno who playfully flirts with you while grocery shopping like the two of you aren’t dating…“excuse me miss, can you help me find this?” (he shows you the grocery list you two had written at home; 1. eggs, 2. noodles 3…etc, etc…and right there in the middle of the list where he’s pointing and smirking, it says in bold, ‘your number,’).
boyfriend!jeno who towers over you and rests his head on yours from behind, kisses your neck and ears making you giggle while standing in a quiet line in public (he’s such a tease, but maybe you more than him~).
boyfriend!jeno who grabs your hand from behind when he’s taking the lead through a crowd of people (sometimes it’s the other way around when his introversion sneaks up on him and you save the day).
boyfriend!jeno who always molds his larger hands around yours, spinning the promise ring he got you around your finger (“one day this’ll be here…you know, when you have my last name and all.”)
boyfriend!jeno who notices when your shoe laces are loose and ties them into bunny ears or if your hoodie isn’t zipped up all of the way on a cold day (he loves to tidy you up and keep you warm <3).
boyfriend!jeno who sticks his hand in your jeans back pocket whenever you’re out together, at home he gives you massages in the same place (or in other words, he loves squeezing the flesh of your bare ass underneath the tiny shorts you wear around the house).
boyfriend!jeno who tickles you until you can’t breathe on the couch, laying there underneath him in your tank top and shorts “god, you’re so cute,” and suddenly he’s making out with you like he hasn’t tasted you in days.
boyfriend!jeno who carries you to the bedroom to play fight, (seconds later your shorts are down your ankles as he’s slipping and ramming so deep into your wet cervix from behind—p.s, it doesn’t hurt; he constantly checks in with you—fingers indented into your skin as his hands arch you into the mattress…your head is buried into the pillows as you drool and moan curses of his name).
boyfriend!jeno who gets rough with you, pulling you into his lap as he thrusts up into you, but you beg him not to stop as you throw your head back and he pulls your hair, (“f-fuck! baby! jen-don’t stop!” this boosts his ego, but you don’t mind when you’re having sex ‘cause he’s gonna give you all he’s got, “mm baby…” he’s giving your tits each a turn in his wet mouth~ “fuuuuck, y/n,” now he’s the one throwing his head back as you ride him until his abs clench and brows furrow, all while he begs and whines about how close he is.
boyfriend!jeno who buries his face into your neck as your core swallows him whole, pulsating around him as he fills you, milking him dry until he’s left panting on your chest…sweaty bodies naked together, your sacred mix spilling out of you as you both watch him stuff it back inside of you, catching your breath, exchanging ‘I love you’s and holding each other.
boyfriend!jeno who is patient with you, affectionate, attentive and doesn’t get mad at you if/when you forget things (“that’s okay baby, we can use this instead,” “don’t worry baby, it can be replaced.”)
boyfriend!jeno who buys you whatever you want even if he doesn’t want anything for himself (you usually buy him something anyway because your baby needs to eat too, but if he doesn’t let you, you share with him).
boyfriend!jeno who happily watches you eat the food he buys for you whenever he tells you he isn’t hungry.
boyfriend!jeno who orders your favorite desserts and ice cream on cute dates to bakeries around the city (he knows all about your diet, has your allergies in his notes app just in case and has your favorite toppings all memorized perfectly…) ;((
boyfriend!jeno who makes out with you in the pool after splashing you with water or in the ocean, in the middle of the waves or in the rain for no reason at all (he’s genuinely the best kisser wherever whenever).
boyfriend!jeno who always includes you in activities and wants you to play sports with him and dream (he knows with you on his team it’s an easy win, plus it’s extra entertaining for him to see you out of your shell and get competitive with the members).
boyfriend!jeno who laughs at you when you’re screaming the rules of a game with his friends (he thinks you’re cute when you’re defensive and pouty).
boyfriend!jeno who randomly pinky promises that he’ll always be your best friend for as long as you’re together, “forever” (your heart almost aches…you tighten your hold around his pinky with yours as a promise is made).
boyfriend!jeno who blushes like crazy and smiles from cheek to cheek when you kiss the mole underneath his eye after you whisper, “I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”
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author’s note: hello friends! haha, the delusions are CRAAZYY!! Hahanmsb!2)$/
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angelliicc · 3 days
Text
don't call me again
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“to be honest, i don’t care anything about you
baby it’s true, we’re already done”
masterlist
a/n its 11:30 as i type this lmao. guys i used to hate this song 😓 don’t come for me. anyways ENJOY
warnings not proofread, ex-gf!ellie
ellie was your dream girl ever since you laid her eyes on her. you thought you’d be the luckiest person in the world to date her, unfortunately it wasn’t the case. your relationship with ellie was rocky. constant arguments over stupid shit, not responding or talking to each other for days and so much more. when you attempted to strike up a conversation, all she’d do was scroll on her phone and say “mhm” without eye contact. you couldn’t keep up with this, so you called it quits. she had no reaction and honestly could care less when you told her, which led you devastated.
it was 3 am. you couldn’t sleep because you had to finish homework. “ugh, why didn’t i skip conditioning today.” you said with regret. your phone rang as it said ellie williams. “didn’t i block her? how did she get my number?”
you answered. “hello?”
e: “missin u like crazy. need u.”
e: “ hello? you’re not gonna fucking answer?you still mad at me? get over that shit and lets restart. i still love u.”
your face turned bright red with embarrassment, r: “sorry, you were cutting out, im here.”
you thought of two things. 1: play with her feelings for a bit or 2: text her and block her. you decided to have a little bit of fun before you wanted to block her. ellie after a certain time was a different person.
r: “missing me that bad you had to call me?”
e: “yeahh”
r: “how bad do u fr miss me, be honest.”
e: “you all im thinking about all day at any time. i miss you so much baby.”
r: “how’d you even get my number?”
e: “i have my ways.”
r: “i bet you do.”
e: “the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
you smiled over the phone, “don’t worry about it.”
silence filled the call for a few seconds that felt like hours.
r: “don’t you have a girl?”
e: “yeah, but she don’t need to know about this. let this be our little secret.”
r: “should i take you back?”
e: “please.”
r: “nah, ive moved on. don’t call me again.”
you hung up and hit block quickly before she called you again. damn, that bitch was a home wrecker. and you didn’t want to be the cause of something. you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. you really fucking hated ellie williams.
“oh, there was a lot of talk and a lot of trouble
your story and mine are really over now”
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uchispeach · 10 hours
Text
Sycamore Tree (Ch. 2)
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Pairing: Dark! Rafe Cameron x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Mention of violence & guns, implied stalking, non consensual touching, obsessive behavior, manipulative! Rafe…
This fic will contain dark content: such as dub-con/ non-con and violence. You have been warned.
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12 missed calls. 10 from Jennifer and 2 from an unknown number. That’s what you’ve woken up to.
You sighed while rubbing your face. You were about to get up, leaving the comfort of your silky sheets just as your phone rang. “Hi” You spoke softly. “Thank God you answered!” A high pitched voice received your ears with no previous warning.
“I’m sorry Jen, I just checked my pho-” The dark haired girl was quick to interrupt you, adrenaline bubbling through her veins: “Did they arrest JJ?” The question took you by surprise “Why would they?” A frown decorated your face.
“Because he tried to shoot Topper?” Your upper body lifted itself from the pillows. “Wait- he fired the gun?” You made the move to get out of your bed, coldness hitting the soles of your feet. “Girl, yes he did! It was a miracle he didn’t hit him” Just like an automatic response, you paced back and forth, each step bringing you more and more anxiety.
“Is Topper pressing charges?” Your fingers grew white while you held the mobile with excessive force. “That’s what Kelce told me.” That last sentence made you stop in your tracks, frozen in the same spot.
Hundreds of scenarios traveled your brain, the last worse than the previous. “Y/N!” You flinched, remembering you were in the middle of a conversation. “Jen, I have to talk to Kiara. I’ll call you later.” The words were honeyed, almost like a plea. Even in the worst circumstances, you still worried about sounding rude.
“Alright, I just wanted to know you were safe… Even Rafe was concerned” The mention of the older blond made you tune back a little. “Rafe Cameron?” You couldn’t help the surprise on your tone. “Yes! He even asked for your number.”
(…)
“There’s no way on Earth we are letting you visit that boy!” Your mom didn’t hesitate in raising her voice, all in hopes of reaching your sister’s common sense.
“I already told you, we weren’t even on the same side of the island when it happened!” Kiara was relentless, stubborn with the idea of checking on her friends after yesterday’s rough night.
A lie or two had been told to your parents, something about assisting a small Kook reunion and religiously staying away from any messy party.
“I don’t care about that, you are not leaving this house on your own!” She waved her hands in annoyance. Desperation leaking through her words. “Then-” Your sister was cut short: “And you are not getting your phone back!”
Kiara took some steps back, rage exuding from her body as she stomped her way to her bedroom.
Flushed and tense, your mother made the move to follow behind. Starting with big strides and frustrated huffs.
You didn’t hesitate to step in as soon as she reached the white door. “Mom, I’ll talk to her…Don't stress about it” You basically begged, putting your palms on her tense shoulders as a comforting gesture.
The older woman just sighed, lifting her arms in defeat before turning around.
You waited a few minutes before turning the handle. Your sweaty hands held the metal piece with unnecessary force. Sobs were the first thing you heard, coming from the wobbling mouth of the brunette.
Step by step, you got closer to her sitting body. Your pace was hesitant, still, you made it to the bed. You felt the mattress weighing down as you positioned yourself by her side.
In a natural response, your soft arms wrapped around her. Skin to the raspy fabric of her blouse. “This is all Sarah’s fault” You backed up a little at the sound of her voice, afraid of possible harsh words being spat your way.
Surprised at the blond’s mention, you pulled her right back in, caressing her back with your warm palm. “What do you mean?” Your voice was quiet like a whisper. “Topper caught her and John B…” She raised her head, to look straight at you.
“…getting cozy.” She let out a bitter snicker while a sour look invaded her features. “And just like that, John B was being drowned by that pretentious Kook…We just saw how his life was slipping away. All for a stupid girl.” You struggled to swallow, a big knot already forming in your throat.
“Y/N” She squeezed your hand while her eyes pleaded at you. “JJ was just trying to save him.” A dreadful feeling leaked into your heart, ignoring it, you wholeheartedly said: “Everything’s going to be okay” You rubbed Kiara’s back as the optimistic words left your lips.
And as her teary face buried in your chest, you couldn’t help but think the worst.
(…)
“Please tell me you’re safe” You breathed frantically on the phone’s speaker. “We are for now…No idea what will go down after the police are involved.” You shrugged, Pope’s voice echoing in your ears.
You recognized the fear behind his words. A situation like this was putting his future at risk. “I’m sure they’ll understand JJ’s reasoning…At the end, nobody was hurt!” You voiced out at a rushed pace.
Silence was your answer for some excruciating seconds. “Is Kiara available?” It was clear he preferred to ignore your intended reassurance. “Is not that I don’t want to speak with you…I actually feel a bit better after hearing your voice.” It was almost like he read your mind, just as a childhood friend would do.
“…It’s just-JJ is going crazy without the capability to contact her.” You understood, quietly sneaking out of your room and into the hallway. “I get it. I’ll get her on the phone…Just wait” You focused on avoiding any encounter with your parents.
“Oh and Y/N” His tone was quieter than usual, almost as if it carried some shame to it. “I want you to know I tried my best to de-escalate things…they just got too ugly.” A frown appeared on your brows as you spoke in reassurance: “I know Pope. You have absolutely no blame in this!” You were as loud as you could, showing your honesty.
“Now, don’t beat yourself up. We’ll find a way to sort this out!”
(…)
“Your phone rang like crazy” Your sister handed you the device. With your hands full of unoccupied bags you stared confusedly at her. “Who was it?” Your legs made their way to the porch.
“A random number…I didn’t answer though” She shrugged her shoulders while realization made your nervousness spike. “Oh, probably just spam.” And as hard as you tried to find a hint of suspicion on the brunette’s posture, she simply looked defeated.
“Hey! When I get back I’ll make you something nice for dinner” Your hand caressed her tanned shoulder as a last sign of support.
On your way to the gate, you couldn’t help but stare at the growing number of missed calls. Still, you decided to ignore them and continue your walk to the store.
(…)
The bags felt heavier under the burning afternoon sun, but the summer breeze made the situation a bit better.
Having your sundress lifted up softly by a wave of air made you walk faster to the safety of your home. Too distracted by the possibility of your full bags breaking and making a big mess, you didn’t notice yourself walking straight onto a hard surface.
Your chest crashed onto what you recognized to be another person's torso. A loud gasp was all you could mutter while apologetically staring into the “stranger’s” eyes.
“Rafe” Your voice sounded almost like a squeak of a caught mouse. The Cameron boy stood proudly in front of you, reverse cap, characteristic polo shirt and navy shorts on. He wasn’t late to comment on your clumsy act: “You should really watch we’re you’re going, Y/N.” And as those words left his pink lips, a small smirk started decorating his face.
In contrast, your features morphed into an embarrassed look. “I am so sorry” You emphasized the ‘so’ with clear remorse, as to which the blond only smiled wider. “No worries! I’ve always known you can be a little distracted.” That made you relax a little.
“Let me help you with that.” He expressed while already having ripped off the bags from your smaller hands. “Don’t bother-” he didn’t let you finish. “You know…” His factions grew serious. “…I’ve been trying to contact you.”
Your palms unconsciously got sweaty as you saw him lightly tilting his head to the side, and you noticed how his tall figure blocked the light from the sky, making him look a tad more imposing.
“Oh! How?” You smiled, taking the easy route. “You should really answer the phone.” It was an order, not an advice. “I…” Suddenly, you couldn’t find your communication skills anywhere.
“I was concerned about you.” He took a step closer, making you feel like there was not enough oxygen for both of you (even though you were outside).
“Well” You gulped heavily, before taking a deep, silent breath. “I am not the one who is in trouble.” You couldn’t be anything but truthful, and against all odds, you felt a strong trust for the Cameron boy.
“My house is a crazy place right now, and Kiara is the one suffering the most” You just continued to spill in the almost empty parking lot. “I imagine, why don’t you let me drive you home?” Again, the question stayed as a formality as he got your groceries on the back of his truck.
“Just if you want to.” That made him turn to face you, a wolfish grin showing a hint of his pearly white teeth. “Of course I want to, I’ll be damned if I don't.” You didn’t know if it was his words or the heat of the sunny day, but you felt the warmth reaching your cheeks.
And your flustered state only grew deeper as he put his big hand on your lower back, helping you enter his luxurious vehicle.
Your breath got stuck in your throat as his arm rubbed against your chest and abdomen; only brought back by the ‘click’ sound of the seat belt.
“Safety first” His tongue had a charming tone while still having his upper extremities resting on your skin. You only nodded in agreement, too enticed by his proximity; and when he pulled back, you couldn’t help but feel a bit conflicted.
The blond got on the driver’s seat, confidently turning on the truck and maneuvering the steering wheel with his long fingers. “So, how have you been holding up?” Genuine interest lingered in his question. “I’m…scared. I don’t want my friends going to jail.” You stopped, taking in some fresh air “I know bad decisions were taken, but still…”
“I don’t think you should be around that type of people…” You frowned, and he continued “…volatile people, who put everyone around them at risk. You deserve better than all the stress that comes with it.” You saw him pull his eyes away from the street just to stare deeply at you.
You didn’t know what it was, if his intense gaze, the lack of sleep or a wave of sensitivity thrown your way by the universe; but tears started forming on your eyes and your lip started wobbling, making the young man look at you with sympathy written all over his face. “See? Pogues bring nothing but problems” His hand reached out to pull back a strand of hair that was blocking your face.
“I know…I know they weren’t exactly right for acting that way but-but” You stumbled upon your words, a small sob interrupting your sentence. Rafe’s attention was back on the road but he still looked at you through the corner of his eyes.
“It’s alright…” The palm on your upper thigh took you by surprise; he caressed it confidently, making the hem of your skirt rise a little. “…Maybe we could find a way to…fix things.”
You blinked in uncertainty. “But how?” Even with his head facing upfront, you could still see the playful look on his face. “I know Topper can get a tad too emotional…he just needs a little guiding here and there.” The more he spoke, the more you understood what he meant.
“Would you do that for me?” Your eyes sparkled in hope, hope that kept you from unnerving as his hand traveled further up your leg. “I mean, that’s what friends are for, right?”
“Thank you” Your voice sounded almost like a whisper, produced by the slight dizziness forming on your brain.
“I’m not gonna lie, Y/N. I don’t understand why you’re so attached to them.” The sudden exasperation in his voice was subtle but not unnoticeable. His anger was accompanied by a harsh squeeze to your flesh.
The feeling of his fingertips burying into your skin made you breathe heavier.
The truck stopped without a warning, making you jump slightly. “Here we are!” He let go of you with a pat, cheerfully speaking.
“Thanks!” Was all you managed to let out. Your fingers made the move to open the door but you were stopped by his strong arms.
His warm breath hit your lips, and you stayed still as he undid the belt. “See you around?” He asked with a smile on his face.
“Sure!” You were quick to reply. Before jumping out of the vehicle and onto your front yard, you spoke: “And Rafe, thank you so much for offering your…help.”
“Of course” He nodded charmingly. You made your way inside the house, too shocked with the interaction to think about how he drove you home without the need of giving him the address.
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A/N: I had salmonella, I got hospitalized for a few days, then, I was forced to stay at an internet-less town for a month; anyways, I hope I’ll be able to post next chapter in a few days 💕
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daddiel-ish · 9 hours
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hi! ever since you started the pregnant law au (I don’t know what to call it other than that T.T) I was really curious how Garp would find out about the babies and Luffy and Laws relationship. I like thinking Garp finds out through the News coo and kinda laughs it off at first before he finds out that it’s TRUE.
Not worry! I've called it Pregnant Law myself so ahahahahah
For Garp, I imagine a thing like "Garp, it's your family again!". Maybe Sengoku threw him the newspaper where there was an article about Law's first pregnancy on the first page. A thing like "A child from the worst generation" and then a stolen photo of Luffy and Law in Dressrosa caught in a moment of intimacy (maybe Luffy touching Law's baby bump and kissing her). Garp obvs laughed cause c'mon that boy couldn't be Luffy. But the article was followed by a carousel of photos, and the scar under the boy's eye was confirming that the kid was, in fact, his grandson.
Garp went through a vast range of emotions, but in the end, he laughed. Sengoku looked at him like he was crazy and left the room murmuring "Your stupid family".
Then Garp immediately called his grandson ( he always had the number, found it, and kept it secret) to yell at him. "You reckless child!!!!! A SON?!?!? YOU!!!! WITH A PIRATE!!!! YOU'RE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME!!". The straw-hats listened to all convo where Garp yelled, and Luffy laughed.
He will never admit that, but he cried a bit... he was a great-grandfather, and he never thought to be granted that title-
For Baby number 2 (he still doesn't have a name), the one telling Garp was Law. She hated Marines but knew the importance of family, especially cause she saw how much Garp looked forward to Primrose. So she called him using a secret snail to tell him about his great-grandson. Garp yelled even this time, "You two need to find other things to do besides children!! Primrose is not even one!!", "WHEN I CAN SEE MY NEPHEWS, TRAFALGAR?!". He cried even this time, Law let him be, and she didn't tell anyone about it.
So, I can say that Garp deeply loves his nephews. He knew that even with them, he would fail all the marine things. Both their parents were pirates, and his grandson was the king of pirates! But this will not stop him from trying or loving them whatever they choose to be. He will not make the same mistakes he made with Luffy and Ace. He learned his lesson the hard way that day in Marineford.
Sorry, I would've liked to draw something, but I was exhausted, this ask was so----- I thought about it all day, and I needed to answer asap!!!!
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willow-moon-23 · 8 hours
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Black Cat and Her German Shepherd
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Aaron Hotchner X Fem!Reader
Summary: The tables have turned and now it's time for her team to meet her spouse.
Part 1
Word Count: 2437
Standing in the kitchen, her hands braced on the counter. She takes a long slow breath. Hotch walks up behind her.
“Are you feeling ok, colonel?” He wraps his arms around her from behind.
She glances back at him. “Fine. Just thinking.”
Hotch studies her for a moment longer. “Are you worried about me meeting your team?”
(Y/N) lets out a sigh. “No.” Her answer was flat, but Hotch could tell she was fighting a lot of thoughts in her head as she glares at the cleaned dishes on the counter.
“Then what is it?” He asks patiently.
She pushes off the counter, pushing Hotch a step away as well. “My team,” She starts slowly as she turns to face him. “I’ve told you the stories. They are a motley crew of hardened soldiers. They hardly have a filter when talking to higher ups and even less of one when talking to each other.”
“I’m aware.” He nods, letting her talk through her thoughts.
“They’re good men. I trust them with my life.” She speaks slowly.
Hotch brushes her hair from her face. "But?"
(Y/N) hesitates for a moment. “I don’t know. I can’t figure out why I’m hesitating like this.” She runs a hand through her hair and looks up at her husband. “You’ve met the captain before. Only because I got hurt, but you’ve still met him and he likes you. He always asks about you when I come back from leave.”
He nods along. “He gave me his number in case anything were to happen to you.”
“Yes. He’s a good man.” She agrees with him and begins pacing. “I know they won't judge us for any reason. They might make jokes if they are comfortable enough.”
Hotch walks up to her again and holds her shoulders, effectively stopping her pacing. “You’re overthinking it. Take a breath, colonel. I’ve never seen you this worked up. Not even when you’re being deployed.”
She does as he says and takes a slow breath. “This feels more nerve-wracking than a month-long mission and I can’t figure out why.”
“Maybe there is no ‘why’.” He rubs her arms gently. “Maybe you want to be sure that both your lives can coexist and not clash. There's no harm in wanting things to go well.”
(Y/N) looks up at the ceiling. “Maybe you’re right.” She drops her head to rest against Hotch’s chest. She slowly wraps her arms around him. “Stop reading me.”
Hotch chuckles. “I didn’t have to profile you to know all of that.”
She hums. After a moment, she pushes back. “Cap and Gaz said they would be here in ten. Johnny said he’d catch a ride with Ghost. Meaning they would be late because of him.”
“Do we have everything ready for them?” Hotch’s hands rub her back idly. He glanced around the kitchen, seeing all food was ready.
“Yeah, I just need to set the table and change.” She tilts her head as she thinks.
Hotch looks her up and down. “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?”
“I’m in workout clothes.” Her tone was flat. She looks down at her sports bra and leggings with a raised eyebrow.
“I think you look great.” He winks.
(Y/N) rolls her eyes. “You’re awful. I’m going to change.” She turns away from him and walks to their room. Hotch chuckles as he watches her leave the kitchen.
Once the door closes behind her, he begins taking out the silverware and glasses to set the table for her. He sets it identically to when she had made dinner for his team about a month ago. He walks around the kitchen one last time making sure everything that needs to be turned off is before walking to their room. He knocks twice before entering. Hotch smiles and walks up behind (Y/N).
“I like this shirt.” He comments, leaning down to kiss her cheek.
(Y/N) closes her eyes and hums. “You should. You bought it for me.”
“Yes, I did.” His voice was smug. Before he could compliment her again their doorbell rings.
(Y/N) chuffs. “Saved by the bell. Take a second before you come out, yeah.” She pats his chest affectionately before walking out and closing the door behind her. She smirks as she hears Hotch groan behind the door. She takes a deep breath before opening the front door. She is greeted by her captain and one of her sergeants. “Evening boys.”
“Good to see you, colonel.” Price steps forward and envelopes her in a warm hug as she lets them into her home.
She accepts his hug and turns to Gaz. “How was the flight over?”
“Not too bad. Cap slept the whole way here.” Gaz laughs and offers her his own hug.
(Y/N) shakes her head and hugs him. “No surprise there.” She hears her bedroom door open behind her and pulls back. “Boys, my husband, Aaron Hotchner.” She steps to the side as Hotch enters the space next to her.
Price was the first to extend a hand. “Good to see you again, agent.”
“Likewise, captain.” Hotch shakes his hand, with a nod.
(Y/N) motions toward Gaz. “This is Sergeant Kyle Garrick, or Gaz, as we all call him.”
“I thought he’d be taller.” Gaz stage whispers to (Y/N) before extending his hand.
(Y/N) rolls her eyes. “I told you he’s barely taller than you.”
Hotch takes Gaz’s hand with a chuckle noticing his wife's banter with the sergeant. “A pleasure to meet you, sergeant Garrick.”
“Gaz is fine.” The sergeant gently corrects him. Hotch nods mentally takes a note.
A loud knock at the front door had (Y/N) turning to open it. ”And there are the last two.”
The four are met with Johnny’s grinning face the second the colonel opens the door. He immediately pushes into her house, hugging her tightly. “Bonnie, it’s been too long.” He squeezes her as if he hasn’t seen her in over a year.
“It’s been three days, Johnny.” (Y/N) pushes the Scott off with a raised eyebrow.
“Three days is three too long.” He practically whines at her. Gaz and Price chuckle behind them.
“He’s been whining the whole way here.” Ghost steps into the house and closes the door behind him. The tall Lieutenant towered over all five of them in his black hoodie and face mask.
The colonel chuffs. “No surprise there.” She turns to her husband. “This-”
“John McTavish, they call me Soap.” Johnny interrupts her with a grin and eagerly shakes Hotch's hand.
“Is our other Sergeant.” (Y/N) sighs. “And this is Lieutenant Riley. He prefers Ghost. Boys, this is my husband, Aaron Hotchner.”
“Federal Agent.” Ghost looks him up and down.
“Unit Chief.” Hotch nods, taking Ghost's hand.
Ghost hums and turns to (Y/N). “How’s the side?” he jerks his chin toward her.
(Y/N) shrugs. “Healing.”
Johnny bumps Hotch's arm. “So, how ya manage to tie ‘er down?” Gaz chuckles behind Johnny. “Couldn’t ‘ave been an easy feat.”
(Y/N) lightly smacks the backside of Johnny’s head. “He didn’t tie me down.” She glares at him. “Get in the dining room before I throw you out already.”
“Awe, don’ be like that, Lass. Just poken’ a bit of fun.” Johnny grins, knowing she’s not actually mad at him.
“Go.” She points to the dining room.
Johnny holds his hand up in surrender and walks into the other room with Gaz and Ghost behind him. Price chuckles. “Pay them no mind. They were all excited when you told us to come for dinner.”
Hotch steps next to his wife and gently rests a hand on her lower back. “I’m glad you all could make it. I know you’re going back tomorrow. So it means a lot to both of us that you took the time to stop here first.”
Price smiles. “Anything for one of ours.” He turns and walks into the dining room.
(Y/N) sighs and looks up at Hotch. “Any initial thoughts?”
“Your stories of Johnny don’t do him justice.” Hotch laughs softly.
She shrugs. “He’s something else alright.”
“Come on, they’re waiting for us.” Hotch softly nudges her forward.
“Fine.” She takes his hand and heads in. She takes her seat next to Hotch’s after passing out plates to everyone and looks around the table. Her team was all happily joking with her husband as they all settled in. Her team thanks her for the meal and eagerly digs in. They haven’t had a properly cooked meal like this in a while, so they enjoy it when they can. All of them make sure (Y/N) knows how thankful they are before the questioning starts.
“So, how bad has it been, been’ married to this one?” Johnny was the first to break up the sound of utensils on plates. (Y/N) glares at Johnny.
Hotch laughs it off. “Honestly, not much has changed for us. We love spending time together. Marriage just seems to work for us.”
“He puts up with me, it’s all I can ask for.” (Y/N) chimes in as she cuts another bite to eat. Her lighthearted comment brings a chuckle to everyone.
“You have a little one, right?” Gaz leans forward to ask Hotch.
“I do. Jack is at his aunt's house right now.” Hotch smiles as he talks about Jack.
Price turns to (Y/N). “He likes you?”
“He does.” She nods. “I mean, he better, I’ve been in his life since he was born.” She looks over at Hotch with a smile.
Price chuckles. “Fair enough.” Price turns to Hotch. “She told us you were a prosecutor before working with the BAU, correct?”
“Yes, I used to work as a prosecutor. I changed fields so I could do more good than I was doing then.” Hotch easily takes over the conversation. Telling them how he felt as if he could do more good being a profiler than he ever could as a prosecutor.
Her team continues to ask more questions, mainly about Hotch’s job and how he treats (Y/N) when she's home. Once everyone was finished eating the boys immediately help (Y/N) clear the table and wash up, not that she even asked them to. If anything, she told them not to, only to be, politely, pushed aside. Hotch stands next to her as Johnny and Gaz tell him about a mission they went on where they had to detangle (Y/N) and Price from a tree after a rough landing. (Y/N) and Price exchange glances when the two add more details than were true. A few eye rolls and scoffs were shared at the story.
Once all the dishes were done and Johnny finally finished another one of his stories, (Y/N) moved everyone into the living room. There Hotch tells them a bit more about what he and his team do. The team listens eagerly, hanging onto nearly every word. (Y/N) smiles to herself as she watches them. After a minute she feels a soft tap against her shoe. She looks up to see Ghost staring at her. He nods his head toward the kitchen. (Y/N) gives him a soft nod.
“You boys want tea?” She interjects softly as Hotch finishes his thought.
“I wouldn’t mind a cup.”
“Yes, please.”
“Sure, Lass.”
She nods as they accept. “Aaron?” She stands and looks down at her husband.
“I’m alright, thank you.” He smiles up at her.
“Ok. Give me a hand, Simon?” Ghost merely stands and follows behind her. The two walk into the kitchen as the four continue talking.
“You trust 'im?” He asks the second the two are out of earshot.
“With my life.” (Y/N) looks up at the lieutenant.
Ghost stares at her with matching seriousness. “He good to ya'?”
“Very.” She answers easily.
He nods. “If he tries anythin’.”
“You’ll be the first I call.” She interrupts his thought.
Ghost grunts. “'is team know you?”
“Met them a while back.” She nods.
He nods. After a long pause, he speaks up again. “I like 'im.”
(Y/N) chuffs. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”
“Don’ get cheeky.” Ghost narrows his eyes at her.
“Wouldn’t think of it.” (Y/N) turns to prepare tea for her team.
Once the tea was ready, the two brought out the cups and passed them to each member. They all say their thanks and ease back into asking questions. To Hotch’s credit he takes Gaz and Johnny’s lighthearted banter and runs with it. The night goes on with loud laughs and well-meant jabs at each other. Hotch got to sit back and watch (Y/N) and Johnny have a back-and-forth on whose fault a misplaced rifle started a five-day hunt for said rifle was. Sitting in his living room with his wife and her team allowed him to see just how close they all were and how much they cared for each other.
As the sun started to go down the team realized they should be heading out. They all said their goodbyes for the night, giving hugs to their colonel and strong gripped handshakes to Hotch. They thanked Hotch and (Y/N) for the meal and headed out the door.
Price stops by (Y/N) and rests a hand on her shoulder. “You have a lovely house. Thank you for having us over.”
“Thank you for accepting my invitation to join us.” She rests her hand over his.
“We’ll always come when you call, love.” Price smiles at her.
She returns his smile. “Drive safe.”
He gives her shoulder a light squeeze and tips the brim of his hat to her and nods to Hotch before walking to his car. (Y/N) and Hotch stand outside watching each of them get into the cars, Johnny waves at them as he and Ghost drive off first. Price and Gaz follow out the driveway.
Hotch wraps his arms around her waist and rests his chin on her shoulder. “Feel better?”
“I do.” She leans into him. Her hands hold his arms.
“You sure, you look pensive.” He tilts his head to look down at her.
She waves off his worry. “Price mentioned something about our next mission. It’s nothing to do with you meeting them.”
Hotch could tell she was being honest. “You think I meet their approval?”
(Y/N) nods. “Ghost likes you.”
“He barely said a word.” Hotch raises an eyebrow.
“That’s just how he is.” She shrugs. “I’m surprised you couldn’t tell, Mr. Profiler.” She teases.
“I think it was the twitch in his eye every time I touched you that made me think otherwise.” Hotch laughs. “You have a good group around you. They genuinely care for you.”
(Y/N) gives his arm a squeeze. “Yeah, they’re a good bunch.”
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Ok have we never thought about the fact that since lbh exists and is canotically able to have kids with both demons and humans, that demons and humans are the same species?
Ok hi, someone who is unironically interested in reproductive biology in the scientific way not as an innuendo, am going to explain how with the information available to me, I believe that modern day scientists would classify demons as the same species as humans
We all know that different species emerge through evolution, and that occurs through genetic isolation and natural selection and all that jazz, NOT through breeding between species
Now, how does a successful breeding work? There are a few steps that have to be taken in order to create life through sexual reproduction
First, obviously, sex. The actual act has to be possible for the species. A worm can’t reproduce with a cow simply because it’s sperm wouldn’t be able to even reach any zones where it could have an effect and they reproduce so differently that it doesn’t matter
Now say a cat and a similarly sized dog try to reproduce. Ok, the sperm might make it into the hole, but does it survive to make it to the egg? Not likely. Each species has specific and delicate environments to house specific and delicate sperm and if even one little chemical is too much or too little, all of the sperm may die before making it to any eggs
Now we get to the part we learn about in highschool biology where mitosis makes my toes and meiosis makes me or whatever saying y’all learned to memorize that but in case you forgot, the whole evolutionary point of sexual reproduction was genetic variety, so being able to swap chromosomes during meiosis is essential to actually making the baby. Different species of animals have different traits, so they have different numbers of chromosomes. So even if a baby is made, it would not necessarily have all of the traits it needs to survive to adulthood.
There are cases like mules where the act of sex is successful, the reproductive biome is just close enough that sperm can successfully fertilize, and the number of chromosomes is just one off from the necessary number to the point where these animals can successfully and relatively healthily survive to adulthood.
The thing is, since the parent species are not the same, they don’t have the same chromosomes. Meaning the mule cannot reproduce with either of its respective species due to not having sufficient chromosomes. Therefore it is not a separate species and is considered a hybrid.
With Luo Binghe, it is stated that in pidw he is able to reproduce with both demons and humans successfully. This means that a) sex works (but we know that already) b) sperm can survive both species bodies and c) he has the correct number and type of chromosomes for both humans and demons
The only thing this means is that humans and demons have the same genetic makeup
It could be similar to how dog breeds work where they have vastly different features but are still able to interbreed with each other and are considered the same species
One might say oh but what about the southern demons most of them are basically animals- DID YOU FORGET ABOUT ZZL!?!?
He is half snake demon half heavenly demon and although he doesn’t have any kids, it is never once implied that he is sterile and that the complications between his parents was more of a cultural difference than a worry about intermingling species
Which also implies that humans can reproduce with the more animalistic demons as well
I hesitate to compare demons vs humans with human ethnicities on earth since it goes a little further than skin tone and hair texture but I think the dog breeds is a good comparison
Tldr demons and humans can have kids that are fertile therefore lbh is a dog breed mix
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laura1633 · 1 day
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love 💞
This was actually really difficult. I feel like this list would change on a daily or even hourly basis, so no particular order
Friendly Gifts - I like this one because it’s one of the first times I wrote about oblivious omega Max. For anyone who doesn’t really follow the asks on my blog, oblivious omega Max is just Max being adored by all the grid alphas and not even being aware of the effect he has on them.
Flush  - I normally prefer writing omega Max but this is a version of alpha Max I loved writing. He is a mob boss who is sexy and confident and he takes care of Charles (mostly sexually but its implied he will look after Omega Charles going forward in other ways too). I would love to expand this universe at some point. 
The Sweetest Deal - just absolute babygirl Max agenda really! Plus hot business man and sponsor Charles. I know a lot of people like the Lestappen ship the other way around but I love to sometimes write Charles in the sexy hot confident role. 
Number one fan - This one made me giggle and cringe when I wrote it. Max being a complete embarrassment yet still having a famous millionaire F1 driver chasing him around! Plus I got to write some Max/George with was fun as George makes me laugh but I don't get to write about him that often.
A heat inducing inchident - baby omega Max going in to his first ever heat after the inchident and baby alpha Charles calming him down and making sure he is okay despite coming to his room to argue with him.  This is another one where I would love to expand at some point next year if I get the chance, I have a whole fic in mind I just don’t if I will find the time to write it. 
I normally get embarrassed by my writing or worry it’s not that great when I read other people’s work so this was really fun because looking back there were about 20 or so other stories I also wanted to include in this list so it made me realise I have written things I like! 
So thank you so much @saviour-of-lord for sending this ask to me. I will send it some other authors and if anyone wants me to send them this ask so they can look through their old fics then let me know <3
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katyawriteswhump · 2 days
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the freak in the penthouse part 12
E-rated (for sexual content), accidental millionaire eddie/sex-worker steve. On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 Part 6.2 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :)
On AO3 FYI, I’ve basically imagined that Dustin and Suzie are roughly the same age as the others in this, so in their late teens and early twenties…
Chapter 12: reality check
Five Days later
Steve picked up the phone and dialled Eddie’s number. It rang twice, before the answerphone stabbed him with the same old jack-knife in the gut:
“Hi! This is Suzie.”
“And this is Dustin.”
“We’re not around right now—
“—or we’re having our downtime, together or apart, which is super important to us—” 
Jesus Christ, kill me already.
Steve had heard this message a dozen times. Dustin and Suzie sounded so goddamn chirpy, like they were going to explode into song. And Steve had endured waaaaay too many chirpy songs the last few nights, courtesy of Robin’s mom’s cassette deck.
He endured the rest of their nail-scapingly annoying message and braced himself for the Ding!
“Hi, this is Steve. Again. Look, I really need to talk to Ed—”
“Answerphone tape full,” recited an electronic voice, the polar-opposite of chirpy.
“Fuck!” Steve slammed down the receiver. 
Why wasn’t Eddie returning his calls?
Okay, Steve had been sleeping a ton the past few days, might’ve missed something. Robin’s leave was over today, and her mom worked really long shifts…
A muffled meeeeow had him looking up sharpish. Resident cat, Fernando, glared at him through the window.
“All right, I’m sorry I stole your couch. I don’t hate you, it’s your fur that hates me. Way to go making me feel even shittier about it.”
He glared back. Trouble was, this was Fernando’s home, not his. Robin had technically moved out last year, and he’d barely got a nickel to slot into the housekeeping kitty.
He was gonna have to sell his watch. Or the guitar. Dammit, he’d wanted to check in with Eddie first, but what choice did he have?
He leafed through the telephone directory for music stores, scraped together some loose change, and caught a bus across the city. On the journey, he missed his old Sony Walkman as never before. Thanks to Robin’s mom, ‘Mamma Mia’ by Abba ear-wormed through his brain. Uuuuuuurgh! He  hugged the glittery guitar case tightly and attempted to pep himself up.
Eddie said he was crazy about Steve. Steve sure as heck felt the same. 
“Yes, I’ve been broken-hearted, blue since the day we parted. Why, why did I ever let you go?”
“Shut the hell up, Agnetha,” he muttered, earning himself a scathing glance from a woman sitting close. But Steve hadn’t been broken-hearted when he left the hotel. He’d been scared shitless over that fact he was losing his memory as well as his mind. He still was. His future with Eddie had been the one thing he’d felt faintly optimistic about, and… 
“Look at me now, will I ever learn?”
No. No way. Eddie was a good person. Yeah, Robin had passed hours bad-mouthing him. No matter. Steve believed in Eddie. Well, he desperately wanted to. He was getting really worried about him—about whether he’d really been ‘cured’ of his agoraphobia, and about his overly sass-tastic and curiously absent friends. 
He missed him so much. Christ, it hurt.
In ‘Jivin’ Jams,’ Steve laid the guitar case on the counter and opened it. The store-owner’s brows shot sky high: “Where did you get this, son?”
“A friend gave it me,” said Steve. “There was a rumor it once belonged to Jimi Hendrix or something.” 
The guy stared at him, mega-intense, which Steve took to be a positive sign. Maybe he should play hardball, get competing offers from a bunch of stores.
“I’m looking for at least two-thousand bucks,” he ventured.
“I got some catalogues out back that should help me figure out what it’s worth. Gimme a tick.”
Steve shrugged. “Sure.”
The dude vanished. Steve waited, grinning when a track he knew—‘Friday I’m in love,” by The Cure—drowned out the Abba hell-loop in his head. He remembered this one. Yeah, he’d been flat on his back on that honking great bed, with his ankles looped around Eddie’s neck. While merrily fucking Steve, Eddie had sung along like an idiot:
“Monday, you can hold your head, Tuesday, Wednesday, stay in bed, Or Thursday, watch the walls instead, It's Friday, I'm in love…”
Christ, he missed Eddie’s dumbass ‘o’ face. He missed how Eddie always needed him to come too, loving it when Steve squirted across those lick-tastic tatts. Yeah, he missed… so much. If he got a decent amount for the guitar, maybe he and Eddie could rent a place together. Get back to fucking every day of the week…
He was still daydreaming, smirking vaguely, when the two policemen walked in. 
“I didn’t know it was stolen!” protested Steve. The son-of-a-bitch store-owner handed the guitar over the counter to one of the cops.
“Where d’you get it then?” asked the other.
“A friend gave it to me.” Steve’s legs started to feel wibbly.
“This friend got a name?”
Steve bit hard into his bottom lip.
“You think on it, and tell us when we get to the precinct, huh?” 
They took his knapsack and turned out his pockets. When the handcuffs came out, the bubble of panic in his windpipe ballooned.
“I didn’t know it was stolen,” he repeated, sort of on autopilot. They cuffed him anyway. Outside the store, the cool air smarted against his burning skin. “C-crap. No, please! Look… I… I didn’t know!”
He was guided into the back of their patrol vehicle and the door slammed shut. He shut his eyes, rested his head back, and battled his instinct to struggle against the cuffs.
OH MY GOD, EDDIE! YOU REALLY WERE TAKEN FOR A CHUMP!  
Unless he knew it was stolen? No. No way, no way. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. Okay… breathe. Keep calm, right? Shiiiiit! 
Steve had been picked up by the police once before. It’d been soon after he’d run from that man, when he was on the streets, and… Nope, nope, NOPE.
His mind grew as clammed up as his body. Which was probably how, breathing fast and shallow, he survived the short journey to the precinct. Still kinda dazed, he was uncuffed and processed. His rescue inhaler, which had been in his pack, was handed back to him. For the first time in a while, he managed to form a coherent sentence: “I need to make a phone call.”
As he was shown to the booth, his worries swerved off in a whole new direction. Dammit, he still didn’t know Robin’s number. He could try calling the hotel, see if he could get a message to her, but…
His unsteady fingers dialled the one number that’d etched itself into his heart. He knew it was gonna go to that ‘answerphone full’ message.
Shit, you are not gonna cry, Harrington, or you’re gonna be eaten alive.
“Hello, this is Suzie.”
“Oh Jesus Christ!”
“No, I’m afraid I’m not Him. This is Suzie Henderson. To whom am I speaking?”
“It’s Steve.” He swiped his knuckles across his cheekbones. “I’m, uh… um… Eddie’s friend. Is he there?”
“No, we don’t know where he is. We’re really worried.” She sure sounded less chirpy than in her message. “I thought Dusty tried to call you back. Have you heard from Eddie?”
“N-no, no. Oh my God. Oh my God, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening.”
“You seem distressed, Steve. Can I help?”
What choice did he have? He poured out his story, including how Eddie gave him the guitar he was accused of fencing, right till the call randomly cut off.
In the interview room, a tired-looking cop dumped a worryingly thick file between them.
“It’s a simple question, kid. Tell us how you came into possession of Jimi Hendrix’s guitar, and we can cut you a deal. You sing sweet enough, you could skip all charges.”
Steve chewed his thumbnail, stared at the table: “I got it from a friend.”
“Listen to me. That guitar was stolen during an armed robbery at a house in Brentwood. You already got an arrest record. You don’t talk, you’re looking at some serious time behind bars.”
Steve gawked up at the interviewer, his thumb still half-caught in his mouth. He’d go to the prison for the guy he loved but…
This isn’t happening.
“Whoever you’re covering for, are they worth it? You scared they’re gonna come for you? We can put you in witness protection.”
Scared? Of Eddie? It was almost hilarious, and finally snapped Steve from his clammed-up funk. He giggled nervously.
“You think this is funny, kid? You can laugh your ass off in jail. You wanna recall your friend’s name for me now?”
“I… um…”
Eddie would want you to tell him, you idiot! He can probably help clear this mess up! There is also the teensy weensy possibility he’s skipped town, leaving you holding his seriously problematic baby…
“Look, I’m not exactly sure where he—“
The door flew wide and a young woman with fashionably frizzy hair and some serious shoulder-pad action stepped in. “Stop the interview. My name’s Nancy Wheeler. I’m Steve’s lawyer and I need a moment alone with my client.”
The interviewer looked mildly pissed then picked up his files and shuffled out.
Steve slumped back in his seat and blinked at his apparent saviour. Beneath the make-up and the power suit, she didn’t look much older than he was. She smiled tightly, pulled a chair around and sat down beside him.
“Woah, woah, woah.” Steve finally found his voice. “I don’t wanna sound ungrateful, but I can’t pay you anything."
“I’m not actually a lawyer,” she hissed, kinda apologetic. “I’m a trainee journalist. Friend of Suzie’s. She’s sort of into law as a hobby, and she’s clued me in on exactly what to say, so… sit tight, keep quiet. We’ll have you out of here in no time.”
Nancy did a lot of talking, and Steve eventually found himself leaving the precinct flanked by Nancy and Suzie. Suzie had brought her checkbook to pay Steve’s bail, though in the end, he hadn’t been charged.
He’d lost track of time during his ordeal, and it was past ten pm and dark outside. Before they reached the bottom of the precinct steps, a Volvo drew up, and its internal light switched on. A guy with curly hair and a ‘Vecna’s Doom Quest’ baseball cap wound down the window.
“Get in!” he yelled.
“Love you too, Dusty-bun.” Suzie headed around to the front passenger seat. 
Steve hesitated. “Uh, look, I appreciate the cavalry charge and all, but you’re, like, complete strangers.”
“Get in, Dingus!” Robin had rolled down the backseat window.
“What the heck are you doing here?” He climbed in, and she folded him into a clumsy hug. Nancy climbed in on his other side.
“Are you okay?” asked Robin.
“Jesus, what do you think? I got arrested, and.. I’m so confused.”
Robin launched her story, as Dustin drove off. When she’d discovered Steve AWOL, she’d freaked out. Then she’d called Dustin’s number, which she knew Steve had been trying all week. While garbling madly at each other, she’d learned from Dustin about Steve’s arrest. Dustin, meanwhile, gleaned that Robin had heard from co-workers that day about an incident at the hotel.
The same incident that Dustin, Suzie and Nancy had spent the last few days trying to get to the bottom of.
“What happened at the hotel?” asked Steve.
“We’re not entirely sure,” said Nancy. Steve wasn’t sure why they'd gotten a rookie journalist in tow. So much baffled him right now. “What we do know is that the police have charged Eddie with assault and battery. His disappearing act doesn’t exactly help his case.” 
“What? No way!” Steve couldn’t buy it. Eddie was one of the gentlest guys he’d ever known. Okay, there was that one time he busted his own knuckles, but…
"It's a pretty serious business," Robin was saying. "The only witness was Doreen. She swore that the so-called 'victim’”— Robin spluttered the word out like sour milk—“was blind drunk and walked into a pillar, but the police didn't buy it.”
“We’ve got to find Eddie before the cops do,” chipped in Dustin.
“Yeah, well, LAPD are the least of Eddie’s troubles,” snapped Robin. “I’m gonna gut him over this whole guitar business.”
Too fucking much.
After the rollercoaster of the past few hours, Steve felt basically punch-drunk. He groaned, rubbed his brow, then shaded his eyes from the dazzle of the streetlights. “Please just someone tell me you’ve got a clue where Eddie is.”
“It’s a work in progress,” said Suzie. “He never picked up his ride from the hotel. We’ve exhausted our leads locally, so we’re heading up to Oregon to see his uncle. Wayne won’t talk over the phone—”
“He won’t talk to us, period,” interjected Dustin. “But I think he knows something.”
“We’re going to Oregon?” Steve emerged from beneath his fingers. “Now? The cops told me to not leave town.”
“Dustin said he’d drop us home first,” said Robin. “I’d be delighted to wash my hands of Jon Bon Jovi’s evil stoner cousin for good.”
“He’s not evil.” Steve gave an enormous yawn, then zoned in on the one thing he knew for sure. “I need to find him. You go home, Robin. Fernando will scratch my eyes out if I spend another night on his couch.”
She bitched a bit more, including about how yuck and sweaty he was. Then she refused to leave him. He curled up against her—he couldn’t risk drooling on a complete stranger—and hunkered down for the long drive.
....
Part 13 on Ao3 (tumblr link coming soon!)
promise we’ll get back to Eddie in the next chapter. I needed to get a few more characters into play so we can finally get steddie on their path to healing and HEA… soon (ish!) 
Thank you for reading. Likes, reblogs and comments much appreciated and will feed the bunnies🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕
On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 Part 6.2 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :)
On AO3 All my ST stuff on AO3
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smolcrow465 · 5 months
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just finished my 02 rewatch but alas. my assignments have caught up with me again
anyways uh. i think kari's malomyotismon induced hallucination is pretty accurate to summer dreams' future
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kelocitta · 5 months
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Tangentially related to some of the discussion i posted earlier but quiet literally the first RW Art Month i participated I did it completely on whim like, one day before it started. And I mostly did it because I hadn't drawn a ton of rain world and wanted to draw more. Fandom presence was a lot smaller than and I was one of a handful of artists who did the entire thing. Fast forward and I still do Art Month and I've gotten to work with VC directly. But it was quite literally something I decided to do completely on whim that set the ball rolling, and for something a lil more niche and certainly with a lot more dev/fandom art involvement than most. It's really random how and why you might get noticed more than usual, especially with the "toss it into the search and hope it pays out' mechanism of Socmed
#t.extpost#and im hardly the fanciest art month artist out there so it wasnt even about being a jaw droppingly talented artist or whatever#and while artmonth for rw is still given a huge focus its also a much much bigger thing now with a much bigger number of participants#which is cool! its awesome how many people i saw do most if not all of last art month! and VC is really good about not just repping the#most popular artists or fanciest pieces#but theres So Much More there now and while its great for finding artists its also impossible to get Everyone in there you know?#Although they absolutely try#And this is like. one of the most fanartist involved devs ive ever seen in terms of both celebrating the art their fans make and actively#bringing those fans in to contribute#and its /still/ hard to get going just because thats how Posting is#i used to be more of a hk artist which is both a huge fandom and riddled with stunning artists but theres So Many#and niche fandoms are niche so youre more likely to connect with people but less likely to see a ton of engagement regularly -#probably best example i have for that was being briefly fixated on patapon.#Its just messy to try and find the hack that sets you up#just have fun and jump around and make what you like#get a sense of feeling for your style and some people will stick around for that vs. strictly the subject matter#others will look up the thing you switched too and some wont engage#you cant really control it#so have fun and draw that thing you randomly thought about at 2 am that doesnt match your blog#draw for that forgotten rpg you liked when you were 15 or draw for the 70 player max steam game you played for this week#you never really know what will happen#but its not really worth worrying about what will happen either
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