#this is such a funny idea to me idk if i did it justice but this is canon to me

[unnecessary-dinosaurs]

on the boat to costa rica…

[thatdeadaquarius]

Sobbing and crying just saw your post of us sounding like a Sim, and I am DYING.

What if it went the other way? They can understand us, but we can't understand them!

Us : hey so what the fuck is happening why tf am I in genshin impact

Them : OMG ASKSKSKSKS FEDERRRALL MEERKK TREEESO! (Omg it's the divine God I'm shittinh myself oml) or whatever idk)

Us: excuse me what the fuck did you just say about my mother? (US mishearing or maybe the words are randomized? Who knows)

Everyone just being confused and frustrated on why you can't understand them. Is it because they aren't worshipping you enough? Maybe some friendship level BS where obly those who are lvl 10 can understand u or smth? Who knows, certainly not the Creator.

I highkey am thinking about writing smth for this now but having it be for like each archons reaction or smthin but who knows. I just wanna see a bunch of divine beings confused outta their mind in like whatever cities square and it turning into a "holy game of charades"

Also happy early birthday ajdjdjkdkdkdk

I”M SO LATE SO THANK YOU FOR THE BDAY WISHES LMAO SORRY KARMA MY BELOVED

AHHHHH U INSPIRED ME BY THE ARCHONS HOLY GAME OF CHARADES-

AND OH NO LVL 10 ONLY FRIENDSHIP UNDERSTANDING-

(づ ￣ ³￣)づ here have a hug for your patience- sorry karma!! :')

LMAO this inuyasha gif- obviously everyone else guessing what ur doing and the 2 others r like ppl like Venti or Kaeya who r just fucking with ppl by joining you lol

OK BUT WHO DO U HAVE LVL 10 FRIENDSHIP?!

BC I GOT NOBODY 😭

ITS RLLY HARD TO DO OKAY-

I HAVE TO PUT ACTUAL EFFORT INTO THE FEW THAT ARE LEVEL 4-5 

ID BE SO FUCKED-

Oh no.

Oh god (you??) no.

What if you had the highest friendship with little d**ks like Scaramouche.

noooOOOOOO

He’d be like, “Eh, I don’t feel like translating today.” 💀

Also I’m rolling with the idea that 

perfect understanding = lvl 10,

Most words 7-9

Some words 5-6

Kinda ?? they get 2 words per sentence or smth 3-4

Basically nothing 1-2

◇

Anyway ornery bitches like Scara/Xiao/Alhaitham/Rosaria/Diluc (all for diff reasons like diluc/xiao would just be overwhelmed and dont like ppl that much lol, whereas haitham doesnt give a fuck lmao) would kinda suck to have as translators

OH NOT THE PEOPLE WHO WOULD JUST LIE ABOUT WHAT U SAID ON PURPOSE TO DECEIVE THE MASSES LIKE Heizou/Yae Miko/Kaeya/Venti 

They pull something like “oh well the god of gods said I could have the last slice of cake/an extra glass of wine hehe”

For different reasons these people would also be ROUGH translators: FISCHL OH NO- , Zhongli, Albedo (he simply would omit “unnecessary details”, cyno, ITTO PLEASE, Raiden (puppet) bc shed take stuff too far/too literally u would never be able to communicate jokes, Razor (im sorry bbyboy), Shenhe

THE CHARADDEEESSS

THE CHARADES OF THE GODS 

You may or may not get another title of a jokester god bc of these SILLY charades 💀

The people u have higher levels of friendship with giving hints LMAO

♤

“Uhhh….. Oh! Oh! Greatest Lord wishes to see a dance performance!” 

Nahida’s sweet voice rings out in Yujing Terrace, her tiny hand waving in the air like an elementary student who’s really excited to answer. …Which isn’t that far off honestly.

“Hmm, I disagree Buer, I believe the Hundun Emperor is saying they wish to take a bath perhaps. I am also attempting to use context, as it has been a long day for them.” Zhongli is in his classic “majestic thinking gentleman” pose, and you’d admire it more if it weren’t for the fact that they don’t seem to be getting what you’re saying.

You hadn’t yet found someone with a higher friendship level than 2 or 3 (hey, don’t blame yourself, you really have to put effort into friendship levels to get them anywhere and you were still busy screwing around in Sumeru when you got spirited away).

So needless to say, most people were getting “the, me, I, you, etc.” rather than the actual important keywords you needed them to, hence the godly charade game now.

As you “hold” something, you throw your hands up in the air, still keeping your hands wrapped around nothing. You think if somebody told you last week that you’d be playing charades with the archons in Genshin Impact so you could actually communicate with them… well you don’t know what you would have done. Maybe just gave them a really awkward laugh.

“Oh! Are you asking for a weapon? Akitsu Mikami, my emperor, we or our nations will surely provide protection from any harm that might befall you. Hm, I suppose we should offer something anyway… I wouldn’t want to displease them…” Ei mutters to herself, having taken over her puppet once more for the occasion.

She and Buer, still retaining their authority status, had asked for the area to be cleared in order to try and get closer to communicating with the Divine First, or you.

“Ha! What idiot would try to hurt the All-Parent in their home, unless they wish to get thrown?” Venti cheekily says, as you don’t understand him, but judging by Zhongli’s clenched jaw, Ei’s sigh, and Nahida’s giggle, you can guess.

You give your own sad sigh… it’s already been 3 hours. 😭

How hard is charades for 4 archons??

Well… apparently very hard.

You put your face in your hands, and you hear the (retired) archons start to debate something, you can tell it’s getting a little passive-aggressive between Venti and Zhongli by their tone alone. 

…Okay, now it’s just aggressive.

The archons eventually give their attention back to you so you can go back to your charades lol

You tried opening your mouth and closing it, very obvious, they can’t go wrong. 

…Turns out they can. 

Somehow you find yourself with a hot tea brewed by the geo archon. 

(Venti attempted to offer you Dandelion Wine, or Osmanthus Wine even, and only god, well you now, knows where he pulled them from. Ei swatted his head, he looked so offended, and his cheeks were all puffed up, heh.)

Giving up, you just try to motion for them to stay still, your hands gesturing like trying to calm a wild animal.

They give you questioning looks, and you begin to walk off, they all seem to immediately start discussing something with each other. All of the gods look very conflicted, and after a minute of you getting further away (yes, you’re almost home free, Xiangling here you come! ) Nahida skips to catch up with you.

She gives you a beaming smile, and you can’t bring yourself to not return it. She's so much cuter in real life, even the official art didn't do her justice.

You make your way towards the restaurant, finally.

And apparently you’re happier than you thought to smell the savory scents flowing out of the kitchen because your stomach growls loudly.

You’re too hungry to even attempt to stop it, no one will care, except Nahida’s eyes go wide. She begins to sputter, and flail her hands desperately trying to charade an apology at you.

…you were just trying to tell them you were hungry. 💀

☆

Ask box open again! :] 🎊

Pspspspspssubliminalmessagingyouwillsendthatdeadaquariusanaskpssppspspspspssss

✨️Hope you guys got smth out of this rough draft✨️ ♡

:D hope u guys have had a good weekend!

My senior art exhibit is april 6th so wish me luck and prayers (from any religion im not picky pls)

Safe Travels,

💀♒️

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

[ranhaitanisgf]

hi hana! congrats on 2k followers once again and if it’s not too much of a bother, i’d like to have a mikey fluff/crack “oblivious best friends” & “stuck together” scenario/hc (whichever works for you) where it was after school hours and everyone in toman is looking for mikey ☺️ i really hope this combination is something new skjdjsjss thank you in advance!! 💕

—manjiro [mikey] sano // oblivious best friends // stuck together

☆ ˎˊ˗ KATIEEE hiiii im sryyy i took sooooo long for this my disappearance from tumblr messed things up 😔 idk how i did on this tbh !! i hope youve been doing well !! and also ur idea was so cutee wahh i hope i did it justice !! xoxo

☆ ˎˊ˗ gn!reader

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 1.5k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

“...mikey.” 

“yeah?” 

“how long are we gonna stay here?” the boy in front of you hummed, thinking for a moment as he swirled the lollipop in his mouth. 

“until they find us.” you sighed at him, leaning your head back against the wall. you could hear rapid footsteps in the hallway, people running around yelling mikey’s name, unaware of the fact that he was sitting in the classroom they just passed by. 

he hadn’t given you much explanation when he grabbed you and pulled you into the classroom, though you think you have a basic idea of what was going on; all you could say was, it was very mikey.

“so, what exactly is the point in hiding from everyone?” 

“it’s funny!” he grinned, crunching down on his lollipop. “but also ‘cause the doors in this classroom are broken; they only open from the outside, so i’ve been waiting for someone to come by and open them from the outside.”

“huh?! why’d you drag me in here then? wait, how did you even do that?” 

“i dunno, but i just saw you and it was boring here by myself.” he shrugged, not seeming to think it was a big deal. “aaand you’ve skipped out on the last couple of meetings, so i missed you.” he pouted, a childish look on his face. “where were you?!” 

“mikey, i told you weeks ago that i would be busy studying for exams…don’t you remember?” you sighed. “i even texted you before all the meetings that i wouldn’t be coming!” 

“whatever.” mikey said flippantly, the same pout still on his face. “you owe me snacks for not showing up.” 

“okay, okay, just stop making that face.” you said, pulling at mikey’s cheeks. “you’re making me look like a bad person.”

“oi, stahppp, it hurtsss!” he grumbled. you eventually relented, sighing as you looked around the classroom. 

“even being here with someone else is boring. can’t we just leave and go get food?” 

“but i’m testing them! they have to know how to find their leader!” mikey insisted, crossing his arms. 

“but you’re literally hiding from them on purpose. how are they supposed to find you?” 

“they can figure that out themselves!” 

“right…” you answered, giving up on trying to make him see reason. you really were hungry; you hadn’t eaten since you had that milk bread from lunch, which wasn’t a whole lot of food. “if you’re insisting on keeping us here, then you’re gonna pay for my meal after this.” 

“ken-chin will pay for it, but okay!” 

“no, you’re going to pay for it. i don’t care if you’re broke; you deserve to have no money for keeping me here.” 

“hey, that’s so mean!” 

“yeah, and you’re being mean right now by not letting us go so i can eat. i ought to just-” you stood up from where the two of you were sitting to avoid being seen, “-let them see me and then tell them where you are!” mikey’s eyes widened, motioning for you to sit back down, but you stood firm, not moving from your spot. 

“oi, sit down! they have to find me on their own!” 

“no! this is ridiculous! i’m hungry and i shouldn’t have to be kept at school any longer-agh!” while you were talking, mikey grabbed your hand, pulling you down with a surprising amount of strength, making you lose your balance and topple over. 

“urgh, what the hell-...” you suddenly cut off your words when you realized the position you were in. 

because mikey had been sitting right next to your standing form, you had fallen right on top of him, the space between your faces being very small as the two of you stared at each other. the space between your bodies was even less, and you swore that he could feel your quickening heartbeat from how close the two of you were, (you didn’t even want to think about how you could feel the warmth from his body right now). 

you knew that you should probably be clambering off of him right now and bonking him on the head for pulling you down so hard, but for some reason, your body was frozen, not knowing what to do. on the one hand, you knew you probably shouldn’t be staying here for so long, but on the other hand, you wanted him to do or say something, anything, to make you think that he wasn’t just an oblivious teenage boy, (how could he have not noticed your feelings this whole time?!)

“(y/n)...” he whispered, his breath fanning against your cheeks due to your close proximity. 

“y-yeah?” 

“can you get off? you’re kinda heavy.” at his words, you immediately scrambled off of him, your heart beating a million beats per minute, this time due to embarrassment. as soon as he got up, you slapped the back of his head, making him yell a loud ‘ow!’. 

“that’s what you get for pulling me so hard, asshole! i don’t get why you’re so adamant about staying here!” you yelled, feeling more shame and embarrassment than anger. you leaned your head back against the wall, wondering why you thought that anything would be different this time. 

it’s not normal for best friends to have feelings for each other, so why were you mad at him? 

this time, you felt the silence between the two of you to be unbearable, almost enough to make you scream with frustration. you didn’t though, instead choosing to just have your own internal monologue until you could make it out of the classroom. 

“(y/n)-chan? what’s wrong?” 

“nothing, i’m just tired as fuck. wake me up when we get found or whatever.” you murmured, laying down on the floor, not caring about the dust and first getting on your uniform. maybe if you laid down like this, the earth would swallow you up and save you from this embarrassment. 

you weren’t sure how much time passed like that, though you were sure that the silence filled the room for quite a while, only being interrupted by draken and takemichi’s yells in the hallway. suddenly, you heard some shuffling, wondering if maybe mikey was going to give up and let the two of you finally be found. 

you’d already gone too long pretending to be asleep, so even though you wanted to see what mikey was doing, you didn’t make a peep even when you could feel him getting closer to you. 

what is he doing? 

your question was answered just a moment later when you felt his hand on your cheek, brushing some of your hair out of your face, (you were hoping that your cheeks weren’t getting flushed right about now). 

“hm, i was able to hold back this time, but you really test me sometimes, (y/n).” after that, you felt his hand pull away, leaving you in much more confusion than before. what in the world was he talking about? 

a few minutes later, you heard him opening the window to the classroom, yelling for draken. when he arrived, he started chewing mikey out for disappearing for so long, which was when you decided to ‘wake up’. 

“hmm, you finally decided to give up that little stunt, mikey?” you asked, standing up and rubbing your eyes to make it seem like you were actually sleeping. “took you long enough.” 

“it got more boring sitting there since you fell asleep.” mikey answered, shrugging his shoulders. he kept the same lighthearted expression on his face as he started to get another earful from draken.

“you did this on purpose?! we’ve got stuff to do!!” he yelled, his face twisted in frustration. “it’s been a whole goddamn hour!!” 

“sorry, sorry.” 

you walked away from the two over to the door, trying to open it just to see. much to your surprise, it opened up, not showing any sign of the locked issue that mikey had claimed it’d had earlier. 

when you looked over at him, all he did was shrug, a smug smirk on his face. 

“you little shit! it was open this whole time?! i’m gonna actually kill you this time!!” you yelled, running at mikey. he swiftly dodged you and went out the door behind you, running into the hallway to get away from you. 

“catch me if you can!!” you heard him tease in the distance, fueling your anger even more. 

“when i catch you, it’s so over for you!!” you shouted, sprinting out of the classroom after him. 

as you chased him, he looked back at you, laughing and saying something that you couldn’t catch. despite the fact that you were acting so mad at him right now, you couldn’t help but admire how the light from the sunset reflected off of his skin, highlighting his playful smile and blonde locks bouncing in the air. 

you supposed that this was fine, for now. 

(mikey ended up paying for your entire meal out of his own pocket, leaving him with 200 yen to his name).

[februarybluues]

idk if this is where I put requests I'm new to Tumblr 😭 but like I had an idea 🤓☝🏾can you write a story where the reader takes hobie roller skating and has to teach him because he's so horrible at it pleaseee

-M

i love this idea so much u have no idea . really hope i did it justice.

Roller-date.

warnings: cursing, gn reader, awful british, clumsy ass hobie

look at him guys omg he's so drools

Although he insisted that he’d rather spend time with you at his house, you weren’t listening. You had your eye on the new roller-skating rink that opened up recently and you instantly knew you wanted to go. He was very much against the idea at first; ‘Capitalistic ideations’ and what-not. “We can just get our own skates ‘n go ‘round town. We don’t need’a spend money.”, he’d say, but you countered with “It’ll be fun! Don’t you want to spend quality time together? It’ll be like a fun roller-date!” you smiled at him, and he found himself sighing with defeat. How could he possibly say no to you? “Fine. Just this once.” 

And that’s how he ended up here; sitting down next to you on a bench - inside the rink, bright pink roller skates in his hands. “You sure they didn’t ‘ave any other colours?” he asked you, looking down to see you tying the laces on your skates – which matched his. “Nope. But, it’s too late now!” you giggled, and he groaned; definitely regretting his agreement to come in the first place, but at least you were happy. Once you finished putting your rollerskates on, you looked back to him and smiled. You quickly made eye contact, as he had admittedly been staring at you the entire time. “Are you gonna tie your laces or do you need me to do that for you?” you teased, effectively snapping him out of his thoughts. He rolled his eyes at you, before tying his laces. It was hilarious; his punk style clashed with the bright pink roller skates in a way that made you struggle to contain your laughter. “What’s so funny?” he asked you. You cleared your throat. “Nothing.” you muttered, still staring at his skates. You didn’t see the small smile plastered on his face. “Come on then.” he said, and you finally looked back up at him. “You ready?” you asked him, and he nodded. You stood up; careful to not fall over. He stayed on the bench, which made you quirk your eyebrow at him, confused. “Hobe? Are you alright?” you asked him, taking note of how he awkwardly sat there. He nodded at you; the once cocky smirk on his face was replaced with a subtle look of embarrassment. But he played it off well. “Fine. ‘M fine.” he said. “Then come on. Let’s get in the rink!” you smiled, and he scrambled to get up. At first, he opted for the ‘no-hands approach’; Attempting to stand up without his hands, to impress you. – which failed horribly. He slipped and landed back on the bench. Then, he tried to hold onto the arm of the bench to pull him up. It worked for a bit, but just as he finally stood up, his knees shook and he lost his balance, falling back onto the bench. You laughed quietly at his struggling, amused at the scene in front of you. “Hobie, can you not skate?” you asked him, genuinely. “Maybe I can’t. So what?” he didn’t look at you as he spoke. His lips were pouted and his brows were crossed with subtle anger and maybe a slight bit of embarrassment. You laughed, the situation was now making much more sense. The reason he didn’t want to skate was because he didn’t know how to! He scoffed at you, crossing his arms like an angry toddler. “I’m sorry- here.” you tried to stop laughing, and held your hand out to him, pulling him up as he grabbed onto it. It took him a minute to get his balance, but once he did he felt like the king of the world. “Want me to teach you how to skate?” you offered, smiling sweetly. “I’d love tha', doll.” he raised your hand to his lips and pressed a small kiss to it. “Firstly, let’s get in the rink.” you stated, slowly beginning to step towards it. A hand latched onto your arm before you could do so. “Wait! Don’t jus’ leave me ‘ere!” he all-but-shouted, clinging onto your arm. You laughed again at that. “Here. Just take tiny steps. Sort of like waddling- like a penguin.” you instructed, before demonstrating it to him. He copied your movements, before tripping over his own feet. You caught him before he hit the ground, pulling him back up. “Be patient with it. It’s not a race.” you said, slowly shuffling once again. After a while, he seemed to get the hang of things. And finally, you reached the rink. “Okay, this is going to be a lot slippier than the carpet, so be careful.” you warned him, before stepping into the rink. He nodded, slowly shuffling in. You were right. It was a lot more difficult to keep his balance, and he stumbled around quite a lot. - almost falling more than once. But eventually he did regain his balance. “This is easy.” he commented, growing a lot more confident. You let out a small laugh, before warning him again. “Don’t get too cocky. You’re gonna end up jinxing yourself.” He didn’t listen, holding onto the wall of the rink and using it to hold himself up.

You moved around, skating in semi-circles around him. He just looked at you as if you were a professional. “‘How are you doin’ tha’?” he asked. “Oh it’s easy! You just gotta push with your legs. - not too hard. But gently just push.” You instructed, giving him a demonstration as you spoke. You slowly skated around him, and he took multiple mental notes on what you were doing. The place wasn’t crowded, but it definitely wasn’t empty. There were a decent amount of people around the both of you. “Did that make sense?” you stopped in front of him. He nodded. “Like this?” he pushed his left foot backwards, and very slowly inched forward; still clinging onto the wall for dear life. “Uhh.. you’re getting there?” he scoffed at you. “Knew this was a bad idea.” he muttered almost inaudibly, but you heard it. “Hey! Once you get the hang of things I’m sure it’ll be fun. Stop being so negative.” you pressed a kiss to his forehead, and he playfully rolled his eyes.

You spent a while giving him a bunch of pointers and tips on how to skate, how to stop, and all of the basics. He just looked so lost the entire time. He listened intently, and asked some questions – which was very unlike him. When you commented on his sudden change in behaviour, he responded with “Jus’ wanna make sure you ‘ave fun. Teachin’ me all this isn’t all tha’ delightful, eh?” it was sweet of him, and it truly made your heart smile.

After around 20 minutes, you spoke up. “That’s pretty much all you need to know. Are you ready to try it out properly now?” “Prepare to be amazed,” he said, and you laughed. “By all means, show me what you’ve got.” he obliged, skating impressively well considering he had only learned moments ago. You applauded him, clapping your hands dramatically. “But can you let go of the wall this time?” he muttered something, sounding slightly hesitant. “O’course i can let go o’the bloody wall.” it was quiet, and you almost missed it. He slowly let go and held both arms out to stabilise himself. And then, he did it. He started to skate without the help of the wall. You felt like a proud mentor, quickly following behind him as he kept going. “Look at you go!” You smiled, and he looked at you with a cocky smile.

You did a few laps around the rink, hand-in-hand. His hand was squeezing yours with subtle uncertainty, and you gave him a small squeeze of reassurance. “You’re doing great.” “Oh ‘ell yeah. Bloody professional I am, yeah?” you chuckled, “The best of the best.”

He was doing great. He was a lot more confident than when he had started and had picked up the pace. But, he was almost too confident. “Watch this,” he said, before speeding up drastically and attempting to spin. But, about halfway through his attempt at spinning, he tripped over his own feet and landed on the cold ground. Understandably, you burst out into laughter at the situation. You couldn’t help yourself, okay? After a while, you crouched down next to him, carefully. “Are you okay?” you asked, and he looked away from you, embarrassed. “Meant to do that.” he excused himself, and you giggled. “Sure you did.” You then noticed the small rip in the knee of his jeans. This rip was not intentional, and you could see a small graze peaking through the fabric. “Baby, your knee.” you said, your hands moving to assess the injury. He swatted them away before you could see it properly. “Hey, hey. ’m fine. “ he said, but you ignored him, immediately moving your hands back to his knee. You moved the ripped fabric around so that you could see the injury. “Looks like a bit of rug burn. Poor thing.” you said, acknowledging how he subtly winced at your thumb grazing over it. “Jus’ a scratch. Like i said, ‘m fine. Dealt with worse.” “Are you sure? Does your ass hurt from falling on it?” you teased, laughing at your own words. “‘S not tha’ funny.” he murmured. “Oh come on. You have to admit it’s a bit funny.” “ Fine. Maybe jus’ a bit.” he admitted and you smiled, before standing up and holding your hand out to him.

“Let’s see if they have any plasters at the front desk.”

omg heyyyy... so like, ive been wanting to make a normal taglist for all of my fics (not including series' tho they have separate taglists) so like lmk if you wanna be added pookie x

[cherubispunk]

CHERUB (PART III) - Dealer!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: the devil has a funny habit of making you want your own suffering.

a note from Lucy: Well, this is it folks. The third and final instalment of the unholy trinity that is cherub. The fic that i had no idea would get this amount of traction. The fic that gave me my username, blog theme, the majority of my mutuals and the freedom to explore more taboo areas of writing that I never felt comfortable with doing before. I just wanted to thank you all for all the kind words you’ve shared with me. Comments, reblogs, messages, they all mean the utter world. But i also want to specifically thank @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin who was such a huge help for motivation when wrting each of these. She's been there since the first day of cherub and always let me obsess over dealer!joel with her. Ange, i love you baby. Out of all my fandom experiences, this has definitely been one of the best. I know this sounds a lot like a goodbye completely, but it's not i swear! I just never really knew where this was going, but I think this is a pretty good way to end the series and I hope you agree too. Part of me isn't ready to let go after such a short run, but I honestly have no idea where to go from here so I think I did it as much justice as I could. Regardless, Cherub and Dealer!Joel will forever have a place in my heart all thanks to you lovely lot! Your love means the world to me and you are all so easy to share this with, you've given me an environment to flourish creatively and I'm eternally grateful for that. I wish you all the love, hugs, kisses, and angel wishes in the world! 

playlist 

wc: 5548 Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! Unedited for now, no outbreak, no use of y/n but joel calls the reader ‘Cherub’, plot? what plot? we all know we're here for the porn anyway, bombastic age gap (reader is in her early 20’s and Joel is in his late 50s), gore imagry, religious imagry, Smut, very dubcon in theory but both want it bad, grafic smut, P in V sex (unprotected — pleaseee don’t do tis irl i beg of you), teasing, sort of edging? (idk what to call it but he doesnt fuck you until you beg for it lol). nipple play, biting biting biting!!!!!, references to domestic violence, use of pet names, manipulative! joel, stupid stupid cherub, stockholm syndrome, oral (f receiving), cum eating, pussy slapping, Joel being foul mouthed, cursing, dirty talk, overstimulation. Again, some of the most animalistic, disgustingly wretched and vile vile vile porn I have written thus far…with so little plot that this earned me my place in hell, i have my own circle now. Big Dick Joel Miller comes as his own warning.

series m.list | m.list

The danger didn't lie in his hands. It didn't sit in his closed first to be suffocated. Choked out until the life of it was compressed. Until its face was blue, then purple and its eyes were bloodshot and streaked with red. The danger lay in your heart. And it thrived off the beating.

What is ‘it’, you ask? Mania.

The Greeks had it nailed down when they split love seven different ways. To the crucifix through its punctured and bleeding palms. All equal, but different. They understood that one love is different to the other. That love can be either obsession, or lingering in the quiet parts of a person's mind. You cannot hold up a mirror to one and deceive into believing it is another. No matter how sweet the lie seeps into the ear. They don't work that way. You were not Lucifer, you had no forked tongue. And your mania wasn't Eve. There was no apple to devour. Only the strong arm of Joel Miller to cling to like a noose.

Some love passionately. Find it in the scathing friction of flesh upon flesh. The heat two bodies make only in sex. You were no body anymore. Merely a corpse for him to dig up and breathe life into whenever he needed relief. So it was not Eros. Some love playfully. In the back and forth of a conversation that makes the mind and heart float in the clouds among the soul. Entwine them together until you are too sedated to know the difference between the three pillars of personal holy trinity. There was nothing lighthearted about Joel Miller. So there was no Ludus. Affection. The subtle, it-is-there-even-when-it-is-not weight of lovers hand in lovers hand. Joel clutched your throat with his heavy hand. He didn't lace your fingers in his like tapestry threads. And he was anything but friendly. So it could never be Philia. He was not unconditional. Familial. Constant. Committed. Long lasting. Selfless. He crept in through the backdoor and took. Then slipped back out. So the thick blood red line was drawn through Storge. Agape. Pragma. The love you had was not for yourself. Without him you hated yourself. Hated how you didn’t feel needed. Or wanted. So Philautia was buried six feet under hot earth, the final nail in the coffin that was lowered into the rotting, thick-with-decaying-mulch, stenching ground. By none other than Mania.

This was something you came to realise as you stumbled from his truck back to your room. His come dribbling down your leg. Luke asleep on the sofa. Months passed of the same thing. He’d take you home from work, only letting you go once he'd had his fill. Played out the sick fantasy from mind to matter, let it bleed through his fingers into fruition. You let it happen for mania. It was the thing inside you that kept you going. Before you thought mania fed off your heartbeat. But now you realised mania fed your heartbeat. The kick it got every second fired the next muted pulse. That's what kept it alive. Energy for energy. You were never one to bite the hand that feeds. That’s a sinner's duty.

—

The usual sight of Luke slumped in his lazy boy, guzzling beer was what you expected. The liquor once again swigged past his lips and dribbling down his stubbled chin. Wiry greying hair greasy on his head, balding. Thinning. Residue from a line on the coffee table. You were never tempted by it before. And you were determined never be a Angel dust statistic like him.

Instead, you opened the flimsy door of your trailer to see him hunched over a small collapsible table. His hand running over his sunken eyes, dragging purple eye bags down with his fingertips in shame. Cards in his other. It had your breath catching in your throat like a hare in a wire snare trap. This time around the small collapsible round table. Cards in his hand. And two other men shared a knowing glance and a grim smile of satisfaction. Him.

Joel Miller.

The tension was thicker than molasses in the room. You only wished it was as sweet. You swallowed it down thickly. It stretched your throat. You watched in morbid fascination when he lay his hand on the table in a fan for all to horror at, a sly smirk slithering over his lips and curling the one corner of it up like a scorpion's tail.

“Full house.”

“Fuck!” And Luke’s hand slapped the tabletop as he folded.

The door clicked. All three looked up to see you. Luke, Joel, and the man who held a familiar resemblance to your own personal devil. With eyes on you, you felt more like that hare in the snare than ever. Clapping eyes on the hungry wolf as mutton dripped bloody from his sneer. Cruel and hungry. You imagined him as that wolf, hyde thick and bristled under your soft fingers as he led you to some deep, dark, thorny place. A place only lit by the eyes of owls who observed while he had his way with you. Ripped your stockings to get to sweet fruit.

“Great, the cunt is home.” Luke spat to the room but you, looking over the table again as he bit his thumb nervously to the edge of the hangnail. “Get me a beer.” Your nostrils flared in defiance at his demand, knuckles pale as fingers furled into a fist. An army of goosebumps had stood to attention all along your arms and the back of your neck. A shiver shattering down your spine. Your heart had enough of its prison of your ribcage in your anger, ramming into it over and over in a frantic hammering. And when that wasn't enough, you felt it in your throat. Among the tightening of your airways. “You hear me girl?” He asked, looking at you. He stood, chair scraping against the floor and you staggered back to the point your shoulderblades hit the door. While he was a thin, wiry man, he had a vicious backhand that stung. Like a vengeful aftertaste. “Y’need me to beat some sense inta ya girl, huh?!” You dared to spare a glance at Joel who was too busy collecting his winnings. You soon to be among them.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, looking to the floor and cowering off to the kitchen to get him his beer.

“Y’short, Luke.” You heard from the doorway, straining to hear the tail end of the conversation. Something about your uncle having it by monday. And then Joel telling him he shouldn’t raise a bet he doesn't have the dough to cover.

It took a second to catch your breath. Tears strung in your eyes and your chest threatened to split in two. Your sternum felt like it was cracking down the middle into clean halves under the weight of your chest. A hand clasped over your quivering lips to bite back a horrible sob and muffle it. Only your palm could know you were crying miserably. So you took a beer from the fridge, heard the hiss as the lid gave way and popped off. It clattered to the linoleum and you bared your teeth at the grating sound, picking it up and tossing it in the bin.

“Here.” You mumbled, placing it unceremoniously on the table in front of Luke.

“Y’got any spare cash on you, girl?” Luke asked, beady eyes staring you down as he raised the bottle to his lips and took a drink. You grimaced inwardly at the sight of his yellow teeth when he made a satisfied sigh.

“No.”

Joel’s brow raised. You should know by now not to lie to a man who can read you like a book. That's the thing about narcissists. They have a way of being able to understand you like a one word sentence on paper. A quick glance and you’re unravelling with concealed meaning and connotation.

“C’mon, Cherub…gotta have something from workin’ this late in that diner of yours…” You dared to challenge Joel with a look. A look that retreated soon after the advance of the glare of his eye. The same glare of the hungry wolf. Of the cheated man. It was unkind, and unyielding, and did not hold mercy upon the souls of the enthralled, the damned, or the harrowed. You might try to cross through the sentence, or turn the page. Or shut the book entirely. But the truth is still the truth even when you chose not to look. This was the man that knew your mind. Knew your body. And coaxed his will out of you each time. His word was all it took to cave, so you took the folded bills from your apron, flicking through them with a bitten back scowl,

“How much does he owe you?” Joel smiled with amusement, counting through his winnings to see what was short.

“Ninety-eight.”

‘What?” you asked, eyes wide, hurt. Disheartened. Fingers stilling halfway through the small stack. And Joel smirked.

“You heard me, Cherub.”

“Give Joel his money.” Luke warned.

“But it’s not his money! And it’s not yours to give!” You tried, and saw the warning tick of your uncle's narrow jaw. It was always set on edge before he threw a hand. Cast a palm across your cheek in a brandishing. It had you cowering. Relenting. Tossing the money in front of him. If it fell to the floor in its flurry he could pick it up and grovel about it. But Joel never grovelled. Only relished. Then reminded Luke of the money he still owed for the drugs.

And you walked back to the kitchen, biting into your lip again. With the devil and your demon in the next room over, you were sure this could be hell. A buzz filled your ears. Like the constant thrum of flies over roadkill. In festering flesh wounds where broken white of bone poked through gaping, bleeding holes. Blood matted in the hyde of the animal helpless and scattered across the road. A leg here, smashed teeth there. You were the roadkill. Joel was at the wheel of that which mowed you down. Luke was howling in the passenger side.

His boots thumped clumsily over the linoleum and he let out a huff through his nose while he adjusted his low slung jeans in the doorway.

“Cherub?” He asked, clearing his throat huskily — a consequence of the smokes he used religiously. You stood with your back to him, palms flat to the countertop and head hung low to fight the sting of tears simmering from within.

“He threatened to hit me.” You whispered, not turning to face him. If you mattered his ears would strain to meet you halfway. “And you did nothing.”

“Come on, Cherub…don't be like that.” he sighed, and you imagined him pinching the bridge of his hooked nose.

“He took my money. You took my money. How am I gonna get out of here without it?” You croaked, your tired eyes seeing faces of gaping mouths and slate black eyes in the speckled linoleum of the counter.

No reply came from the door. And when you turned it was empty. He had left. The other man had left. The tv was on again with the scream of a woman murdered. And Luke fell asleep in his lazy boy.

—

Another day, another shift. And more horror ensued. At first, what set the nerves thrumming was there was no sign of Luke. His truck was gone from its spot. No drunk slumped on the worn leather settee. No scream or grotesque image on the TV. Merely an empty bottle on the coffee table.

You swallowed, shutting the door cautiously with a muffled click of the latch. You didn't dare call his name. Just pushed it down into your stomach for it to churn the thought up in acid. But the horror jumped back up your throat into a lurid scream at the sight of your mattress tossed to the side. The moth bitten pillowcase on the floor, void of money. Your money. Gone. Someone had rifled through your belongings. Turned your only space into a mess. Strewn clothes, bed sheets, pillows in their haste. All your work. All the nights of living off bitter coffee from the pot at work, scrounging together tips. It made you seethe. The heat was an inferno at your fingertips, nails embedding crescents into your palms. You searched all over for it. But to no avail.

When Uncle Luke came home, he smelled of hard liquor. It was a miracle – or curse – he hadn't wrapped his car around a tree. He gloated, and sneered, and shoved it down your throat in his intoxication that he’d found it under the mattress. Joel had called him, told him you planned on leaving. And he connected the dots. Ransacked your room. Oh, how the man would hate his loose lips when you gave him hellfire.

You expected Luke’s reaction. You knew if he were to ever find out he’d snatch it up in his greedy, grimy hands and take it for himself. He spent all of it. Paid his debt to Joel, gambled some on bad luck bets, drank with the rest. Slugged liquor down his throat and got drunk off your labour. And then left you on your floor with tear stained cheeks and a heart of heavy lead.

You wanted your money. But would you take from the man who gave you your everything? Your sense of being. A religion and faith. You believed in nothing more than the way he held your name between his teeth. You forgot what your real name felt like in the same place. And it occurred to you that he had never said it. Did he know it? You weren't them anymore. You were Cherub.

The sweet and mourning lamb in you wanted to go over just to be his again, and not carry out the plan of taking back what was yours. That which he would see as sin. You felt guilt claw up your throat at the thought alone. It seemed blasphemous to conspire against him. Why do you insist on protecting yourself. You who was the sacrificial lamb?

If you did go – and you let him have you again – you were whole. But at what cost? Could you stand another night of temporary hell under the guise of heaven. Of touch so cold, like ivory or black ice. To have him thumb your skin with blunt endearments and the croon of ‘cherub’ past his chapped lips. Definite like black and white. No escape. What he’d do and how. Whispering them in the stone deaf shells of your ears like they were a sculpture. Pygmalion’s Bride. He’d made you all you were today. Took chisel to marble and carved out his masterpiece. Cherub.

You were soft, and pliable. Wax heated by his flame. You kissed back. You moaned for him. Begged him for his release and not your own. Bruised with his handprint. The warmth of life under flesh. But without him…you returned to marble. Another pretty thing to be gawked at. He tempted you with it because he knew more than anyone, more than god himself who watches these exchanges, that you can't live without him. It was like telling a child not to slip off to the woods in the dead of night. That was a pointless warning. You knew what lay there anyway, what threat it would be. That wolf in his thick bristled hyde. Curled up in his den. You would see it as innocence and vulnerability if you weren't so scared. But you knew when he woke up the teeth would shine again. And they’d tear flesh. Let blood. Gnash bone. Dripping from the glaring white once he finished with your carcass. Your matter between them and your crimson lacing his gums. Who knew being eaten alive could be so pleasurable.

But then again, how could bering alone really be hell if the devil wasn't there?

There is mania in your body. But you can't get it out. It rattles in your head and lungs and glues to the backs of your gnashers. No matter how much you wish to spit it out. It infects your tongue. It welds itself to the matter of your bones. Melts into the cracks between your teeth. Claggy against your tongue. All to show the sweetest of words have the bitterest of tastes. You can feel it swell underneath your skin. In the gap between muscles where it festers and heats you up. Like fever it burns, like the fire that consumes and the pillars that hold the temple up crack, the ground shakes, and the beast rears its ugly head at you. You’re losing your body to him. It's a fight you try to win. You dare to. You give your all, tooth and nail each time in the gaps between. In the silence and hollow that nestles in the middle of the meetings. In the quiet, where no one is around but the cracked plaster of your room. You stopped caring who fired the gun first. You were always the one who got shot down in the end. Right in the stomach. Blood gurgling up your throat in a grotesque plea for help.

All these weeks you had shrunk yourself to the size of a bird in his hands, sang a sweet sweet song of his name, until the squeeze of his first closest off your throat. And the sound stopped altogether. Laid there after the warning. Patient while you had your wings clipped and your freedom taken. And he took more. Took the beating of your heart with his teeth. Took the will to want. The will to love. The will to need anything else, as well as the need to have better. Below you were the foundations. Only now you saw them for what they were, a decaying mess of fragments, the stench of wood rot hot in your nose. A musk like no other. His musk. So in your anger you took an axe to a willow to see how it would weep. You slipped past the sleeping drunk you call Uncle Luke. Out the door, over gravel, past the truck he coaxed you to without the need of a sweet treat. You’d yank the axe from the bark of the weeping willow, its sob echoing in the wind that rustled its drapery of lush green leaves. Leaves that will wilt as sap bleeds from its severed trunk. Take the axe to the wolf. Cut him. Scrotum to throat.

Take back what was yours. And leave those woods skipping.

—

Your knocks descend upon his door in quick raps until he opened it with a grumble. Then a smirk. “Evenin’, Cherub.”

No salvation. No going back. No space among the clouds. Just the fall. You pushed past him into his front room. “Where is it?’ You hissed, tossing the cushions of the couch up. Nothing there. So you left them on the floor and did the same for the airchair. Nothing there either.

“Woah, calm down, girl!’ Joel huffed, reaching for your arm, which you tugged back from him in a new found strength surging you forward, out of his arms. “Where’s what?”

“My damn money, Miller!” You bit back with venom laced spit. A hunger for revenge making you salivate like a bad dog.

“The fuck you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I'm talking about, dickhead!” And he recoiled at your bared teeth, your verbal assault and battery, but went in for his own.

“Watch your damn foul language, girl!” He warned, reaching the end of his already short tether.

“You know how much he stole from me? Three hundred dollars of my hard earned chash. Forget my fucking ticket out of this shithole, I ain’t even paying rent now! And for what? Your god awful drugs!” His nostrils flared, and you watched the vein in his neck bulge under the sweltering heat of his own anger. Coiling inside him. Wounded bitch about to bite back.

“You didn’t have much of a probelm with my drugs after I fucked that pretty little hole of yours. All dumb and needy f’me, Cherub.” You grimaced at the sneer. But the feeling made your knees buckle. The name again. Cherub. You were Cherub. His cherub. “You want ya money back, huh? You can have it.”

That made you stutter. Thoughts skidding to halt at the sight of a brick wall. Crumpled matter as it smashed into it anyway. “What?”

“I ain't giving it to you for free though.”

“You're sick! It’s my fucking money!”

“Not in the eyes of the law its not.” And he folded his great oaks of arms over his chest in satisfaction. Once again one upping you.

“The eyes of the law? Says the fucking drug dealer. I bet you got way worse than coke in duffel over there. Wonder what the law would say about that?” It was said dismissively over your shoulder as you turned to leave. Alas, once again his large hand encompassed your wrist and squeezed. Pulled you back flush to his broad chest. His breath was hot on your neck as he whispered sweetly into your ear.

“Come on now, Cherub. You wouldn't do me in like that would ya? Not when I love ya…”

The way he said it…it didn't seem real. It was false. Comforting but not real. You knew it was a lie. This wasn't love. He didnt love. If he loved you he'd ask for your number then call you. Take you out. Let you cry on his shoulder and drive you home after. Kiss you in the dark for only the walls to see. Let you stay a night or two, or a whole damn week. Give you your damn money back. Stand up to Luke with a closed fist to the face. Leave swelling and a deep bruise on his cheekbone as a first and final warning.

“You love me?” You asked, voice small and hollow in your chest.

“Yeah, Cherub. I love you too.” He cooed, as if he knew you loved him already. All this and nose running over the curve of the side of your neck, tongue trailing hot in pursuit, it had you keeling over in confession at his feet. “You’re so cute when you're angry. Come on now, lemme make those tears go away…and you can have your money back, and we can forget this ever happened.” That tone…it was patronising. It made the sense in you rattle the cage of your ribs. Claw at the bars of bone and run into them like a caged animal. Because that’s what it was. A caged animal. But your heart was holding its hand over its mouth in a trance as it let his words ebb deeper. Somewhere between desperate and divine. But what was his motive?

God, Jesus, all above that is holy, you didn't care! After all this time, it was still no secret, or hushed uttering that Joel Miller was now everywhere in you. Scraping the backs of your teeth, festering like a virus in your bloodstream. Melding to the marrow of your bones. The walls of your cunt.

He still had a devastating habit of seeping through the cracks of your closed lids. Still ready to pillage and plunder his way through your head in its numbed state of sleep. When you could have finally— finally stopped and not felt. But he ebbs deeper. Always would. Always will.

It's what got you here. It would end you if it could. Snuff out your heartbeat and the fire inside of you. All he need do was lick his fingers and press them to the wick. And leave the smoke to string out and curl. You thought you were hungry for love before. But now you realised you were just hungry for the sight of your blood on his lips. The gnashing of you between his teeth. The curl you made of his brow. If it wasn’t devastating, reaping its agony in your silly little fractured chest— you didn’t dare need, nor crave it. You came for the pleasure but you stayed for the pain. And he took again, and again.

So you let him ‘make it up to you’. Let him claw at your clothes until they were scraps on the floor. Tore your stockings. Showed you those gleaming teeth. The wolf. And you, his sacrificial lamb. His Cherub.

“Feel that?’ He asked, with the slow drag back and forth of him inside you, parting you. This wasn’t fast, or rough. This was slow. And it made you need more. Need it faster. Need him hurtling you towards the edge of harrowing oblivion. He knew that. It’s why he took his time with it this time around. “Yeah. You do.” Joel answered for you. You never had to answer. But often he made you say it from your own quivering lips. Just to have the taste of the words from your tongue bleed into his. The neverending praise. “Why would you wanna leave that Cherub?” You couldn't answer, only let out a soft sob. “Huh? Answer me, Cherub. Why’d you wanna fuckin’ leave that?” And he punctuated it with pulling out to the bulbous head of his clock, then slamming back in with one sharp thrust. And then he was still.

You whined a shallow gasp into his mouth. But he didn’t kiss you. Joel never kissed you. His teeth sinking into your bottom lip shut you right up before his tongue delved deeper into it. The thumb of the hand that slithered between your legs rolled over your clit, making you mewl over the buzz of electricity causing you to clamp down on his thick, full cock. You were so eager for more. Anything more than what he was giving you. He smirked into your mouth when he felt your hips buck forward, trying your damn hardest to push his cock deeper into you. Silly little cherub. You should know better than to defy God. “See? Felt good didn’t it?” You nodded as much as you could in your current piston.

“Mhm.”

“See what you can have if you stay. Why fight it cherub?”

“Yes, Joel.”

“You gonna listen then, Cherub?”

“Yes. Yes! I’ll listen, just-” You shuddered at the thought of it, tears brimming at the the threshold of your eye. ”Please.”

“Say it.” He waited, wanting you to beg for it in the pretty way he knew you could. The choir voice. The songbirds hymn. The whole time his eyes did nothing but stare you down hungry at the sight of you falling apart from nothing but a hand to your throat and a single his throbbing dick buried in your aching cunt. It all pooled down into your centre, creating a rush your head had trouble keeping up with. “Tell me why you wanted to leave.”

“I dunno-” You stuttered, once again rolling your hips up. His hand at your throat pressed into your skin again, harder. It choked you. It had you drawing in a sharp, meagre breath. And he pulled out, running the underside of himself through the hot, drooling seam of your cunt. You shivered when the tip brushed up to your clit momentarily. The bead of precome at his slit smearing into your sex, mixing with your slick. “I dunno, Joel. I- I just wanted my money. I just wanted out. I hate it.” You babbled through closed eyes, chest heaving with sobs, and hot tears ran thick down your flushed cheeks.

“You hate it, huh?” He mocked and crooned, still catching your clit with the tip of his cock, hips waxing and waning in a slow roll. “You hate me too?” He knew the answer. But again, it was the satisfaction of knowing you were wrapped around his finger. Ready to bend over backwards for him. Him seeping into you through the cracks of your ribs, the gaps between your teeth. The opening of yourself to the twisting knot of denial within you. Your back arched like the lofty roof of a chapel, legs parting like its heavy doors. He followed you with hunger. You opened your mouth to speak but he squeezed momentarily on your throat again, oxygen starvation and the smell of him dizzying you. He relished in the whimper that he garnered from you. That and how he left you breathless just from his cruel touch.

“No.” You garbled as his thumb unhinged your jaw. Saliva in your mouth pooling while his thumb pressed your tongue down, bitter with a smokers telltale tobacco staining. It slipped past your lips, dribbled down his digits making a sticky mess at the curve of his thick wrist. He drew up a glob of saliva in his throat, watching as it drooled thickly, gluttonously, past his lips into your waiting mouth. He watched as you gagged on it, and then he let your jaw go so you could close your mouth. You swallowed eagerly, savouring the taste on your tongue. For what did it matter anymore? One day, you’ll be nothing but dust. Bronchioles in lungs will mimic roots. Navels will copy trunks. Organs will feed worms. Ribs will fossilise and lips that are kissed will mould back to Mother Nature. It's all you have ever been. Quick. Convenient. Easy to please, eager to help. Waiting lips, wanting cunt. Warm, never warm enough. But he kept you like a butterfly in a glass jar. He let you see freedom but never experience it. Why need it when you had the stretch of him inside you. The feeling of him, heat to heat with your sex.

“You want this, cherub? Wanna be stuffed full of me again?”

“Always wanted it, Joel.” You mumbled into his mouth, sniffing back the last this spurt of tears, hypnotised. His hand wrapped around his cock, the large splay of his palm did nothing to dwarf its size with he jacked himself once, twice, three times to the sight of you. He squeezed the base with hiss, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth after cursing under his bated breath. He was thick, flushed, the tip swollen and leaking, drooling greedily with a rivulet of precum down the underside of his length. He trod a path with his hands down to your breasts, kneading each one between his palms with a pinch before guiding himself back into the mouth of your heat, your cunt swallowing him down to the base. The needy roll of your hips into his showed just how desperate you were. He groaned at the start of the friction between you, and slowly dragged back out of you, moving just as slowly back inside. He repeated this twice, and then he let loose. The motion turned into a needy clash of his hips to yours. Again. Again. Again. Somewhere along the sting of passion and heat, his hand wrapped around your throat, feeling the flex of it as you swallowed under his palm. He bit down into your neck, reaching out from you as his hips slammed erratically. His heavy balls slapping against your ass with each rut forward of his unrelenting. The way he fucked you, was like holding a knife to your throat. It grounded you in the most harrowing way to each of his breaths. His panting in your ear. It swallowed you whole. Mad your legs wrap around his waist and your hips keen up into him.

Your cunt drooled down his shaft, down to the base, down the sensitive skin of his cock. He growled and hissed in your ear, teeth closing around your earlobe, his hand dragging back up and grip tightening around your neck. Getting off on the feeling of your pulse under his thumb.

You felt the knot tighten. And tighten. Right in the pit of your stomach, deep in your sopping wet cunt where the mouth of your cervix met his fucking. The walls of your cunt sucking him back in as the angle of his hips snapped up into the spot that had you seeing entire constellations. They darted to and fro across your vision. It blurred the edge, spots of dark matter, deep black, the colour of oblivion slinging over the back of your eyes that now burned with tears of pleasure. His fingers dug deeper into malleable flesh, gripped tightly at your hip with his free hand, thumb brushing over your hip bone down your mound to toy with your clit after a slap to it. And it was the action that sent you spiralling, babbling his name nonsensically among a string of curse words. So pretty and fucked out beneath him. Joel couldn’t help but stare smugly as your eyes rolled back into your head when your orgasm hit like a freight train. He came undone soon after, his climax hitting a crescendo with a growl bitten into your shoulder, bruising and brandishing you with his mark again.

He pulled back, leaving you to the mercy of the cold. Watching was his hips moved again to fuck his release back into you. Your hole quivered in protest, and you squirmed under him. “Don’t be fucking ungreatful now, Cherub.” You relented, going still and boneless on the mattress. Limbs unfurling from their tension. “That's it. Take it. Take it all.” He groaned smoothly. Just like the roll of his hips. He fucked it slowly back into you. And you took his release inside you to keep. “Good girl, Cherub.” He whispered, kissing your lips in a tender dichotomy. Not letting you rest until he was satisfied you took every drop of him. Afterall, it was all you’d have left of him until he next chose to pick you up. All the while, he trailed his tongue back down to your breasts, pressing the flat of it to your nipple, drawing it with a sharp suck into his mouth. Pressing the blunt of his teeth into your flesh. Letting the taste melt on his tongue. Salty with your sweat. He did the same to the others. When he went soft inside of you, and his hips stilled. He slipped out of you with hitched breath, the pad of his fingertips tracing your abused, used sex. Your legs twitching when he rolled your clit under two fingers. “I said stop squirming.” He grunted, landing another slap to your pussy. It made an obscene wet sound. His come dribbling out slowly.

“Open your mouth.” Joel commanded, and you did. Waiting for whatever he had planned. He licked a hot strip from your asshole to your cunt, pressing his tongue in to drag out some of his release. And he climbed back up to spit it into your mouth. A hand clamping down on your jaw. “Don’t swallow. Close your mouth.” And you did with the side of his thumb clamping it shut for you. “Taste that?” You nodded in response. It was hot, heavy and thick and salty to taste. Divine. “Show me.” You opened again, his creamy spend diluted amongst your saliva and he smirked. Clamping your jaw shut again. “Swallow.”

Joel watched in open mouthed amusement as the delicate column of your throat rippled under muscle contract. “Good girl, Cherub. Remember that taste next time y’feel like leaving again.” He warned in a growl. And you nodded, swallowing your pride. Your fear. Your mania aiding in shoving it down your throat to dissolve in acid. Once again you were in those deep dark woods. The one where the wolf lay. Remnants of you in his teeth. The willow is still weeping, slashed in half. The axe free of his bloodshed by the entrance of his den. The owls' eyes still lit the scene of sin where overhead the starlight was snuffed out by the tangle of branches thick in their black greenery.

You never got your money back. Maybe one day you'd get out of this town. But the devil has a funny habit of making you want your own suffering. Even angels can’t resist a slice of that heaven. Fallen angel. Wounded bitch. Cherub.

[star-girl69]

enemies to lover with nat !! i’m begging for u to end this drought! spoiled reader who always get on nats nerve very angsty if you could make it

Party Queen

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

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a/n: this was so fun to write but idk if i did the request justice ☹️ anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: drugs and alcohol, underage drinking and smoking, swearing, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

“Of course I wasn’t home for curfew,” you chuckle, sending Shauna and Jackie an odd look. You were talking about the keg party you had all attended last night, and how late you had ended up leaving.

“Won’t your parents care?” Shauna scoffs.

“As long as I’m not pregnant, why the hell would Rebecca care?”

Both of them look at you, even more confused now. You sigh, bringing your knee up to your chest to tie your cleats.

“Rebecca? The housekeeper? I told you guys about her, right?” Jackie nods after a moment.

“Yeah, but… I kinda thought you were joking?”

You let out a laugh, bending over on the bench, almost crying as you double over.

“Oh, oh, my God, that is so funny,” you breathe when you calm down. “I mean, like, not to be a bitch, but come on! My dad’s off in like, Canada or something, and my mom’s at a wellness retreat in San Antonio. Rebecca is my second mom, basically.”

“Yeah…” Jackie chuckles. “Because that’s perfectly normal.”

You shrug, setting your now tied cleats onto the ground.

“Oh, that reminds me. I was thinking- team bonding at my house tonight? We can use the pool, and I think the hottub is warm, and Rebecca can order pizza for us!” you stand up, putting your hands around Jackie and Shauna’s shoulders as Coach Martinez calls you onto the field.

“Can Jeff come?” Jackie asks.

“Only if you share,” you wink, and it takes Jackie a moment, but she laughs when she realizes you’re joking.

Shauna shrugs. “I’ll come.”

“Great!” you smile, squeezing their shoulders before letting go to take a knee in front of Coach.

—-

“Hey, Taissa,” you say. There’s a pause in the scrimmage- one of the JV girls had accidentally kicked the ball over the fence, and Misty had volunteered to go get it, conveniently not knowing where the extras were.

“Hey, Y/N,” Taissa says, stretching by pulling her foot up to her back.

“Team bonding at my house tonight?” she raises one eyebrow at you. You would be lying if you said you didn’t have a reputation. “Fine. It’s a party.”

She looks you up and down. “Free booze?”

“And pizza!” you sing. “Bring your bathing suit, too.”

She bites her lip, toying with the idea. “Sure,” she says after a moment, sending you a small smile.

“What could the great Taissa Turner possibly have to say to the Party Queen?” Natalie snorts, walking over just as Misty shouts she has the ball, starting her run back over.

Taissa rolls her eyes.

“Party,” you say, drawing out the world while you fix your ponytail. “Free booze, free pizza, and my pool? What’s not to love?”

She smiles and rolls her eyes. “Sorry, Y/N, I’m just deathly allergic to mansions and the people who live in them.”

“You’re no fun,” you scoff. “I mean, what else are you gonna do tonight? Get drunk and suck someone’s dick? Why not at least do it on my dad’s dime?”

“Ha. Fuck you, Y/N.”

“Will you just come?” you groan. “It’s team bonding.”

She stares at you up and down for a moment, and you adjust your jersey, feeling weird under her stare.

“Fine,” she says after a moment.

—-

Rebecca had only shook her head and said not to cause any damage, before placing an order for a million pizzas, and you changed into bathing suit, putting on a loose white cover-up, making sure the pool was clean and the snacks and pizza were out- before you rubbed some sunscreen on yourself, put on some sunglasses, and sat in the last rays of the dying sun.

“Oh, holy shit,” someone laughs, and you hear the click of the fence gate shut. You pull your sunglasses down, looking at Taissa and Van.

“You’re here!” you smile, standing up, adjusting your sunglasses and placing an oversized beach hat on your head. Van immediately grabs a slice of pizza, looking at you, but you only make a wide motion with your hands. “The hot tubs at, like, 102, and the pool is at 84, I think,” your voice drops to a whisper, even though Rebecca is inside the guest room reading her romance book, “the beer is in the coolers.” You nod your head to the two coolers you had lined up against the wall and filled with cheap alcohol.

“Oh, thank God,” Taissa mutters, immediately walking over to it. The gate creaks open again, and slowly, everyone starts filing in.

—-

Natalie doesn’t arrive until it’s already dark, when it feels like the party is just getting started. You’ve long abandoned all your accessories, instead chatting with one of the freshman, Allie, about how she had gotten invited to prom.

“Hey, Party Queen,” Natalie mutters, looking around, and you’re already a little tipsy.

“Natalie!” you shout, not meaning to, and she laughs and cringes while you clear your throat. “I’m drunk,” you explain, and she raises her eyebrows.

“Just a bit?”

“Just a bit,” you nod, saluting like a soldier, which makes you giggle. “Oh, um, beer is-” you spin around, until you finally find the wall with the coolers. “There. And any pizza left is on the table. You were late,” you shrug.

“Oh, wow. What will I ever do without a slice of cheap pizza?”

You frown. “I love Alfredo’s pizza, though.”

“Oh, God,” she mutters, looking around the backyard. Allie has long since walked away. “This place is ridiculous, you know?”

“Ridiculously fun?” you ask, reaching out to grab her wrist, tugging her over to the lounge chairs. A girl screams as she jumps into the pool from the diving board, and Natalie grins, laughing.

“Not the word I would have used,” Natalie shrugs, and you grab her bag from her and put it on the nearest lounge chair. “What the fuck are you doing?” she asks, not making a move to grab her bag.

“Won’t you swim?” you ask, feeling slightly bad that not everyone is having fun at your party. You had a reputation to uphold, anyways. Natalie rolls her eyes, and you lift off your bathing suit cover, letting it drop to the concrete.

She looks at your boobs.

“Stoo staring at my boobs,” you grumble, slipping off your flip-flops.

“What- why would I stare at your boobs?”

“‘Cause I’m hot, duh.”

“I think the parties are getting to your brain.”

You shrug and step into the water, looking at her over your shoulder. And she’s staring at you, but she doesn’t make any move to take off your own clothes. You shrug and submerge yourself, swimming over to Jackie, Shauna, and the infamous Jeff.

—-

You climb out of the pool, pretending you don’t feel eyes on you, spotting Natalie and a glowing ember in her hand. She hasn’t even taken off her jacket, and you suppose it’s a little chilly, especially coming out of the water.

The refreshing pool did nothing to make you any less drunk, and you sit on the end of Natalie’s lounge chair, forcing her to tuck her legs up and sit to avoid getting wet.

“Jesus Christ,” she groans, letting smoke blow out of her mouth. You lean forward.

“Give me some,” you say.

She scoffs. “Why would I do that? Not even a please from the spoiled queen? Oh, God, I’m wounded.”

“Fine. You’ve smoked so much I can probably just absorb it from the air around you.”

You can see her smile, slightly forced, like it always is when it comes to you. “Why are you such a bitch? Mad that daddy’s away?”

“I’m having a pool party at my house, unsupervised, with pizza and beer. Why would I be mad?”

“Yeah, whatever,” she mumbles.

“Seriously, can I have some, though?”

“No.”

“Look at who’s the bitch now, huh?”

“You didn’t even say please, you spoiled brat.”

“Please!” you shout, a smile on your face, and Natalie laughs but finally gives in after a moment, putting the join in front of your face, and you eagerly wrap your lips around the end and breathe in the poisoned air.

You cough, smoke dripping from your mouth.

“Loser,” she mumbles, and you choose to pretend not to have heard it. She takes it back, taking her own drag, and the sounds of the girls talking and shouting and water splashing becomes the only noise.

Natalie Scatorccio has hated you from as long as you could remember. Maybe she was jealous, or maybe you had really done something to hurt her- either indirectly, or so long ago and small enough you had completely forgotten.

“Jesus,” she mutters after a moment, shuffling around, before something hits you.

“The fuck?” you ask, only to be faced with Natalie’s jacket.

“You’re shivering. It’s making me cold just looking at you.”

“Aw,” you coo, wrapping the leather jackets over your mostly-dried shoulders. “Who knew Natalie Scatorccio, infamous bitch, had a heart?”

“Who knew Y/N L/N, infamous brat, could be stupid enough to not grab a towel after she got out the pool?”

“Why do you hate me?” you ask after a moment. “Like, seriously. Did I do something super fucked up in elementary school? Because, come on, get over it.”

“I don’t hate you. You’re just annoying and spoiled.”

“So you’ve mentioned.” You turn to her, eyeing her suspiciously, and her cheeks flush, but it’s probably from the weed. “Get over it,” you say after a moment. “Not my fault my dad is like, rich, or whatever.”

She just looks away.

“Well, you’re annoying, too, you know,” you say after a moment, missing the sound of her voice.

“Oh?” she asks, but by the way she smiles- both of you know you have nothing to say.

“Whatever,” you mumble. “This is making me sad.”

You stand, stumbling a bit, throwing Natalie’s now damp jacket back onto her.

—-

By the time Jackie and Shauna have bid their goodbyes to you, everyone else is gone. You sigh, suiting on a lounge chair in the pitch black, stretching and feeling everything pop, before curling up. You think you stay like that for a few more minutes, telling yourself you’ll get up, but you never do.

The gate creaks open again, and you flip over, scared about serial killers-

“Damn,” Natalie mutters. “I just forgot my jacket. You… you good?” you sigh and wrap your arms around yourself.

You love throwing parties. You love the people and the music, the food and the drinks, the drugs, everything about it. They call you the Party Queen and you are- but mainly because you wish they would never end.

There’s this empty feeling festering inside of you, and this sickness that will never be cured. You tell yourself you’re not bothered by your parents leaving, but now, you don’t know.

Natalie takes a few steps closer, and you look up at her.

“I never like the end of parties,” you say.

“It’s freezing outside. You’re gonna catch a cold,” Natalie sighs, picking up her jacket. But maybe you’re too drunk too move. Natalie takes a sip from someone’s leftover beer. She mutters something to herself, before grabbing your hand and hauling you up to stand.

You stumble, drunk and confused, and she’s drunk too, so she barely steadies you, her hands all over you.

“Huh?” you say, and she wraps a tentative arm around your waist and guides you around the pool, and to the faint lights of your house.

“Time for bed,” she mumbles, and you look at her, before unlocking the sliding glass door and stepping inside the cool house.

“Why are you helping me?” you ask, staring at her suspiciously as you both lean on each other, tired and tipsy.

“I would feel like shit if I just let you to die out there.”

“I wasn’t gonna die,” you snort, taking a turn so you end up in front of the stairs. “It’s not cold enough for that yet. Besides, I was gonna get up.”

“You’re drunk,” she deadpans, and you look at her, almost missing a step, but the two of you quickly steady yourselves. “You can’t even get up the stairs, Y/N,” she sighs.

“Okay,” you mumble, drawing out the word, until you finally lean forward and open the door. Natalie helps you sit on the bed, before looking around your room, covered in soccer trophies and medals, pictures of various teams you had been on.

She sighs. “Goodnight, Party Queen,” she says after a moment, and turns to leave.

“How are you gonna get home?”

“Walk,” she shrugs, and you open the window near your bed, looking out at the sky through the faint streetlights. It’s dark, not only from the lack of sunlight but from some dark clouds rolling about in the sky.

“But, like, don’t you live at the trailer park? That’s, like, on the other side of town.” You gesture to the window. “I think it’s gonna rain.”

“Okay, Miss Meteorologist,” she chuckles, but you aren’t laughing. You’re tired.

“You can stay, if you want,” you yawn. “Rebecca won’t mind.”

“Goodnight,” she says again, as you stand up and start to slip off your bathing suit.

“You should stay.”

She doesn’t turn around until you do, until you’ve slipped on a t-shirt and a pair of undies.

“You should stay, Natalie. I would feel horrible if you died out there.”

She looks at you, then at the dark window.

“Fine,” she says after a moment, slipping off her jacket and her sneakers, placing them in a neat pile near your bed. “Only ‘cause I don’t wanna get rained on.”

“You’re drooling thinking about sharing a bed with me.”

It takes her a moment, but she laughs. Like, really, truly laughs in a way you haven’t heard anyone laugh in years. And after a moment, you’re laughing too, and suddenly she’s sitting on the edge of your bed next to you, the laughter dying off.

“I’m going to bed,” you announce, already dreading waking up with a hangover.

Everything you’re doing is shrouded in a thick haze, and you can’t tell which way is up or down, and you can’t turn back. Not now.

“I always thought you were a bitch. ‘Cause you were such a bitch to me,” you say, curling up on your side. She lays on her back, staring at the ceiling, staying far away from you and breathing heavily.

“You deserved it,” she says after a moment. “You always walk around like you own the world- it was my cosmic duty to knock you down a few pegs.” You giggle, and she finally turns her head to face you. She hides a hiccup into her hand. “But, uh, this house is so big and empty, you know? Now I feel bad.”

“I don’t think you’re so bad, Natalie,” you murmur, and she lets out a dry laugh.

“Maybe you aren’t either. I mean, you’re still a spoiled brat, but.”

“And you’re a trailer park loser.”

“Then you’re a desperate loser.”

“Fuck off, bitch,” you mutter into the pillow. “At least I’m not a goddamn drug addict.”

“At least I’m not a poor little lonely girl, waiting here her parents to pay attention to her.” She turns fully onto her side, and you look at her with narrowed eyes.

“At least my parents make money.”

“Shut up,” she breathes. “You don’t even know anything except spending money.”

“And you don’t know anything besides sucking dick.” The air in the room feels heavier, tangible.

“Shut up.”

“At least I have money to spend.”

But the more you talk, the more you don’t mean it. The more smiles form across both of your faces, giddy and carefree, too teenage girls basically home alone in a big mansion- but they only care about this room, this bed.

“Shut. Up.”

She’s whispering now, leaning towards you, and you’re leaning towards her, like you’re two magnets who can’t stay away.

“You shut up.”

She makes a motion that seems to be a shrug, before making the final leap forward, that final connection, and smashing her lips onto yours.

Life becomes flashes of teeth and tongues, lips and hands, until you’re pulling back for air, her hands in your hair, your lips bitten and swollen, the remnants of your lipstick smeared across her face.

She only pulls away enough so that your noses still brush against each others, and you can feel her breath against your skin, labored from kissing.

“At least I’m not a stupid Party Queen,” she gasps after a moment.

You smile. “You wish you were.”

—-

everything taglist:

@emilynissangtr

[goldenhypen]

❣︎ ⎯⎯ would you still love me even as a worm?

PAIRING ! yang jungwon x reader // GENRE ! fluff, crack // WC. ! 0.6k

PROMPT(S) ! 3. laying their hand on the other’s leg ;; 11. calling them nicknames ;; 22. placing a hand on the back of the other’s neck // requested by a lovely anon and @miraculouspabu <3 // 2k followers event

A/N. ! this drabble was inspired by the tiktok trend referred to in the title ,,, and ,, ahaha idk if i did it justice tbh. feedback is always appreciated tho :> hope you enjoy !!

“would you still love me if i turned into a worm?”

at your very random question, jungwon turned to you, giving you a funny look as he furrowed his brows.

“baby,” he started, taking his hand and placing it on your leg, caressing his thumb softly over your lower thigh. “what kind of question—“

“i know it might sound weird, but just answer the question,” you said, trying to sound serious as you tried to hold back a smile.

“no, i don’t like that question,” he shook his head.

“please, wonie, just answer the question,” you gave your best attempt at convincing him through probably what were some the worst puppy eyes you could ever make.

“that’s a dumb question.”

“it is not!” you exclaimed, playfully defensive. “now, would you still love me if i tur—“

but before you could finish the question you had made so many attempts in asking, you were cut off with your boyfriend’s lips on your own. you couldn’t help but close your eyes, melting into the kiss, and bringing your hands around his neck pulling him closer.

however, in no time, you were snapped back to reality before pulling away.

“hey!” you started. “that was a dirty move, yang jungwon—trying to shut me up by kissing me. rude!”

laughs only escaped his lips, but you tried your best to remain strong and serious, furrowing your brows at him, “it’s not funny.”

“sorry,” he started, “but it’s really funny.”

you pouted, looking at him as angrily as you could make out without bursting into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

“aw,” jungwon began again, feigning sadness, “is my little wormie sad?”

“no, but imagine,” you started, suddenly back to as excited about the idea as when you first brought up the question, “what if we were both two little worms, right?”

he looked at you, very skeptical before he nodded slightly for you to continue.

“we’d be—love worms,” you finished, followed by a fit of giggles.

“y/n,” your boyfriend groaned. “seriously? that was so bad.”

you acted offended at his statement as your jaw dropped dramatically.

“fine,” you replied. “but—okay—if we were two little worms though, you know what i would call you?”

he gave you a displeased look before letting you continue, acting as if he wasn’t looking forward to the answer you had for him.

“jung-worm.”

there was a silence that somehow came out to ironically feel very loud before you let out a fit of giggles that you unsuccessfully contained.

“okay,” jungwon ‘fake laughed,’ “i think that’s enough bad jokes and dumb questions for the day.”

he began standing up, about to walk away.

“don’t pretend as if you don’t enjoy it,” you said playfully. “i know you love it.”

“no,” he said, stopping in his tracks, “no, they were quite terrible to say the least.”

he turned around and you waited for him as he continued after letting out a small chuckle, “but you know—even if it meant hearing all these worm jokes from you every day—i’d still choose you any day, in any form, because i guess i just love you that much.”

“thanks, wonie,“ you giggled “—i mean—wormie.”

he rolled his eyes jokingly before coming to you and placing a short kiss to your lips, pulling away with a smile, “shut up.”

A/N. thank you for reading !! reblogs and feedback are always helpful <3

2K EVENT MASTERLIST.

TAGLIST FORM.

[keysmashingfantasies]

Hi, I love your writing and was wondering if you could do a chishiya x freader where reader takes a long time to come back from a game so chishiya assumes she is dead. They aren’t together but somehow chishiya has managed to open up to them and is starting to have a better understanding of emotions. So when he thinks readers dead (the only person he tells his feelings and past) he has a break down. Then reader comes back to find him a mess. When she asks why he explains how he wants to learn about emotions and feeling because reader opened him up to the idea. He basically ends up confessing and they end up together. Maybe even drunk sad chishiya idk 🤷🏻‍♀️.

yes i can! thank you for requesting. i tried a different format with this so let me know if it's confusing. flashbacks are in italics

"You seem like a doctor", you said with a smile. Chishiya's brows rose. Was it obvious?

"Why do you say that?", he tried to act like you hadn't read him but you had. And after almost drowning, Chishiya didn't have a lot of energy to keep up his nonchalant facade. Especially not since you had rescued him, given him first aid, dry clothes and a warm meal.

"You seem... Serious. But not in a moody way. Like someone who's been... desensitized. You're very clinical. About all of this, the games. The way the world works. Your eyes are a little sad. Like you've seen so much", you said, sitting opposite to him and handing him a water bottle with a smile that made him feel funny. He remembered asking himself if these games were a ploy of God. But if they were, maybe God put some angels hidden around. Like in a spades game inside a pool filled with traps.

"But that could be anyone", he took the water bottle, nodding his head slightly as a way to thank you.

"Yeah. But anyone wouldn't be as smart. And they wouldn't know how to fix the excuse of a patching up I did in themselves like a pro, like you did", you pointed to his forearm, now properly bandaged up. Neither too loose or too tight, the bandages tucked in nicely. "So, doctor, what's your name?", you smiled, offering him what was left of your food.

One hour. It's been one hour since the games were over and there were no sign of you anywhere. With so many people, he thought he may have missed you. But it wasn't like him to not be able to spot you. Not when he couldn't take his eyes off of you at any given point when you weren't inside a game.

He was sitting seemingly patiently but he had started to twist his hands inside the pockets of his hoodie. His mind was going haywire, going through the stages of grief over and over and over again, interluded with pep talks about how you were smart. You were strong, you could do it. But could you? And then it would start over again.

Another half an hour went by before Chishiya stood up.

"Sitting around just won't do", and then he started walking.

"I think I've seen the worst of the world", Chishiya said, quietly, like he was telling you a secret. In a way, it was. He hadn't told anyone about it, after all. "Here, back in the real world... It's all the same, isn't it? There's no justice, is there?". He seemed so vulnerable, looking down at his lap.

"What happened in that game wasn't your fault. It was a hearts game. You just played the hand you were dealt with", you said, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing to bring him out of his stupor, to let him know you were there for him.

"Yes but... How can we decide? How can anyone decide the cost of a life? Who's worth it and who's not?", he said, looking over at you.

"We can't. No one is more important than the other person, but we are all important", you said. You looked over at him, looking every bit like an angel in that white hoodie. "In normal circumstances. But these aren't. You need to stay alive, understand? You have to live", you said. What you didn't say was the "I can't loose you" that felt lodged in your throat, the words seemingly floating in the air around you too like smoke. It was there, you both knew it, but it wasn't tangible.

"I will live. I will", Chishiya was in a similar situation to yours. He didn't say the "You won't loose me. Ever. Even if I die" that was wrapping around his throat, wanting to force him to confess. "I will come back to real world", he said, determined. He didn't add the "With you" at the end like he wanted to, either.

Chishiya didn't mean to get drunk, honestly. He just thought it was a good idea to not be so tense waiting for you, and specially when you returned. Because you WOULD return.

So he decided to drink a bit. He didn't want his nervousness to take the best of him and make him lash out at you because he's so worried. He could picture perfectly the way your brows would crease, your eyes widening, your lips pouting... You were so beautiful.

But as time progressed and you didn't show up, this was a good enough way to keep occupied. Back at the real world, Chishiya wouldn't indulge in things like that. Not even in the Borderlands, really. But you did something to him. Him drinking to try and numb himself of the intrusive thoughts caused by the anxiety of not having you close for longer than expected made Chishiya feel as if he was one of the patients that he worked with in residence, that started to smoke as a replacement addiction to opioids. Chishiya was addicted to you.

"What will you do? When you go back?", you said. It was yet another one of your late night talks, and he was trying his best not to let his sleep addled mind make him do something stupid. Like kissing you. Even though you were so so close...

"I'm going to start living. Really living", he said, voice thick with sleep in a way that made you shiver. "This place has a way of making you feel like you were wasting your life, doesn't it?", you nodded. "What about you?"

"I will do the things I was too afraid of doing before I came here. I'm going to let people in. I'm going to fall in love. Madly. Maybe start a family. Who knows", you were blushing, your eyes closed to avoid the embarrassment of what you just said. You could feel Chishiya's eyes piercing all over throughout your face like needles.

"That sounds good, I think", he said simply before closing his eyes as well, his own blush dusting his cheeks.

"Chishiya? Chishiya, wake up", you said. You had just came back to find Chishiya asleep with an empty bottle on his hand, and started to worry immediately. This wasn't like him. What really startled you though was the dried tear streaks on his cheeks.

He had opened his eyes after a minute, but just barely, his lids were heavy in a way that told you he was still drunk.

"Y/N... You're back", he hid his face in your thigh where you kneeling besides his head and you had to contain a jump to not hurt him. He was already going to have a killer headache soon, you didn't want to contribute. "I can't believe you're back".

"Of course I'm back", you gently pried his face from your thigh and helped him sit up against a wall. "My game took long, it was a maze. And then I had to get some food too, that's all", you whispered, his intoxicated gaze fixated on you like you'd dissapear if he looked away. "What happened? Why are you drunk?"

"I... I drank because I was afraid. Stupid. Stupid decision", he slurred and you nodded for him to keep going. "You were taking so long... And I was afraid you were... You wouldn't... And then we wouldn't fall in love madly and have children ", he could barely string a sentence properly but you could tell he was being sincere. "Love you. Thank you for letting me in. I thought this was all just so stupid. And then you made me care about you", he said and you felt like you were having a heart attack.

You quickly leaned forward to give him a peck on the cheek, and, regretfully, had to push him away when he tried to kiss you. Instead, you cupped his cheek in your hands. "I love you too. But you're drunk. No funny business until the morning comes", you said and he gave a slow nod.

"Come here. Let's hold each other for now, ok? Rest, and we'll talk in the morning. I'll be here when you wake up, I promise", you whispered. And he promptly fell asleep, anxious to open his eyes to you in the morning as soon as possible.

[laufire]

there's a scene in "cold comfort", an episode from the new batman adventures (you might've seen it around on tumblr) where timmy todd has failed a civics test. tim says he doesn't care about what a district attorney does, bruce tells him he doesn't know anything about the american justice system, tim replies it's "bogus". when bruce asks how did he come to "that well-thought-out conclusion", tim, cheeky, replies "watching you", saying that bruce doesn't exactly follow the rules of due process (bruce tries to change topics asking about his math test).

and it's a funny moment and all but (because I'm me) it made me think of it in the context of jason's character. first, idk if the show does anything more with tim in an academic setting, but this is a contrast with new earth!jason that speaks to a more "stereotypical" idea of a street smart kid.

second, while presumably tim would've seen the flaws in the system before as well, this moment carelessly implies certain ignorance (like i'd care about what a district attorney does when I was a petty thief / you don't know the first thing about the justice system, do you) and jason's mistrust on the system came across as coming from someone who, thanks to his experience, had a really good grasp on it, and that said knowledge was what made him mistrust it. he preferred to be on the streets that in the hands of gotham social services (my personal headcanon was that he was under their care previously for a little while, and then things went sideways and he had to run). he runs from ma gunn's. he argues for penguin's potential rehabilitation to bruce. etc. etc.

and third, jason's journey was more about... first, seeing the flaws in the system, then agreeing to work with bruce in what seems an alternative, better way, then seeing the flaws in BRUCE'S system, the way victims still fell through the cracks. this scene puts the sole focus on bruce's worldview, with tim (even if it's part of a joke) adhering to bruce's. this is literally the third episode, I know there's more, plus comics, so maybe they do more to build up tim's independent views (though idk if it'll be within is vigilante tenure or as part of the return of the joker's plot, whose specifics I don't recall well).

either way. food for thought.

[moonshynecybin]

Hi, if its convenient can you put me a link to all Bezz vrimes of haterism on Marc. Is he really that insane to go on record like a drunken man

omg i would love to... those videos are so literally iconic and all of this is so funny to me... SO um. like marc absolutely had a hand in crashing bez out really early at valencia 2023, but it didnt get on the broadcast bc the fucking TITLE FIGHT was happening and stuff. like there were other priorities. HOWEVERRRR this reallyyyyy pisses bez off. like a lot. so he fucking shows up to honda hospitality to demand justice or something, maybe get an apology or explanation. i have no idea what he thought would happen tbh, because marc had ALSO crashed out of that race (jorge martin doing stupid shit) and it was his LAST RACE WITH HONDA. so marc is CRYING all over the place and trying to achieve emotional catharsis about closing a major chapter of his life and then bez (A FUCKING VALE CRONY??) shows up and starts literally maybe yelling at him. which i imagine did not impress marc. so he refuses to talk to him! or turns him away idk but SOMETHIN happens that pisses bez off even moreeeee so he goes into his post race briefing just absolutely spitting mad in like. a puffer jacket with a beer literally in his hand. messy.

so he starts YAPPING. calls marc the dirtiest rider in motogp and says marc only got away with it bc hes MARC MARQUEZ and there was a conspiracy from the stewards and the broadcast (um. buddy.) and its makes a bunch of headlines bc vr46/marquez flavored beef keeps the lights on around here. marc says to the media i dont wanna even talk about that person. NEXT. so it goes.

but its not even over! because later that day bez gets WAYY drunker (TOASTED.) and posts up to the ducati garage to celebrate with the championship win with pecco whereupon he steals a microphone from skyitalia and goes around bothering people and dropping little digs at marc the wholeeeee time it is VERY funny. hes like pecco hello how are you today congratulations i WILL beat you next year. did anyone know that marquez made me crash. now lets talk to your GRANDMA ! like its awesome. i watch it when i get sad and imagine the PR guy was locked in a closet somewhere screaming. theres a vid with excellent translation here. homie is on the MOON.

anyways he saw marc on track at testing was a lil annoyed but then he walked most of this back like three days later (i DO think some stories got published saying they physically FOUGHT and there were some made up quotes that were obvs crazy, but i also think my man marco got a taste of the vale/marc media divorce vortex and went runningggggg) which is. also so funny. "i dont care what people think" (cares sooosossoso much)

[the-traveling-poet]

Hello again! 😆💗,

Thank you very much for fulfilling my request!😩. I did not expect you to fulfill it so quickly, and this made me very happy. It was funny and CUTE 💗.

Well, I have a lot of ideas, but Idk how to write them but I think it will not be as fun when I read it from someone else’s writing. 🫳🏻

It is the same idea. Fem!TitanReader X Levi, The events take place when Annie kidnapped Eren, and the reader chases her in her titan form, but Annie was able to escape after leaving the reader with dangerous injuries, and she was left alone because there wasn’t enough time to treat her until the mission was over, and Captain Levi didn’t find her among the soldiers or treatment tents, so he decided to go back to look for her, and when he found her, she was still in her titan form. She fainted and half of her limbs were still trying to regenerate.

💗(Thank you for fulfilling my first request. If you have some time, I hope you will fulfill the second request, so I can be silent in peace. Lol)

Shifting Scares

══════════════════════

During the 57th expedition beyond the walls, everyone was on edge. While Commander Erwin hadn’t specified all the details for their plan, a select few knew the danger this put young Eren Jeager in.

In order to use him as bait to draw out the ‘abnormal’ titan hiding amongst their ranks, they’d need all the protection they could get. So naturally, they’d tasked you; their secondary titan shifter, to stick close to the young boy.

As plans shift and fail, you’re left with no choice but to take on the threat single handedly until help could arrive. But no one knew the danger this would place you in, until it was nearly too late.

══════════════════════

Pairing: Levi x Titan shifter! Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, language, fluff, s2

taglist: @21aurora @deepzombieyouth @braunsbabe

══════════════════════

A/N: Awe ofc lovely! I’m so glad you enjoyed the first one, and I hope I did part 2 justice!

Sorry for such a long wait. Work got in the way and I had some personal issues that really took me for a turn, but here I am!

Enjoy ~

══════════════════════

Part 1/ish

“Eld, you’re taking the lead from here. Tether the horses and get Eren out of here until I give the signal.”

The second in command gave a brisk nod in return, then turned his attention back to the front.

Just behind him, you gripped the reins holding you to your horse tighter and grit your teeth. It had been a close call, for the past several minuets. Really, it had felt like hours; galloping at top speeds to escape the grasp of the titan behind you all. You’d lost count of just how many times you’d felt her ginormous calloused fingers brushing your back through your cloak.

You’d understood why you had been placed at the rear or the Special Operations Squad. You knew it was to cover the flank and provide even more security for the young boy in front of you. But damnit if you hadn’t been scared shitless the whole time despite your agreement.

Chancing a glance back towards the front, you caught your Captain’s eye. He stared seemingly into your soul from the front of the small formation, as thought he was looking past your gaze and into your very mind. After assessing you a moment longer, he gave you a small nod. One you had a hard time returning.

“L/N, you know the drill. Watch their six. Should anything happen, you’re to act as defense.”

“‘Course, Captain,” You mumbled, trying to shoot him a smile. Though it looked more panicked than reassuring in his eyes.

Looking you over one last time with a flash of what you could have sworn was concern, he turned back to the front and crouched up onto the back of his mare and gripped the handles of his odm gear and shot off up into the forrest surrounding your path. A moment of silence accompanied his departure, and you couldn’t help but worry for his safety above your own as he returned to the Commander’s side.

Humanity’s strongest or not, the lot of you had never gone toe to toe with another shifter.

The silence followed you all up until you came to stop near a large oak, where you dismounted your own mare at Eld’s call and prepared to tether her to the tree.

“Don’t worry sweety, you’re well out of danger here,” you murmured to your loyal steed, petting across her forelock gently before shooting up into the trees with the rest of your squad.

Grappling onto the first of many branches that would bring you nearest the top of the large tree, you glanced over at Eren with a smirk as you pressed down on the lever of your gas containers; a wordless competition for a race.

Sensing your mischief, Eren rolled his eyes. But he couldn’t quite hide the interest he took in your silent challenge.

Racing through the thick limbs, you couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself despite the dread this mission had placed the entirety of the Corps in. But a little fun far away from the danger might help ease the boy’s mind, right?

And maybe yours, too.

The two of you touched down nearly in synch, catching your breath as you playfully shoved at one another’s shoulders with mumbles of disagreements for who’d won.

Hearing someone clear their throat, you both stopped and stared ahead with wide eyes. The rest of the SOS had made it up to the top before the both of you, much to your disgruntlement.

“Oi, you shifters…or whatever they’re calling you now; you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” Oulo grumbled out, folding his arms loosely across his chest.

Shrugging your shoulders with a careless smile, you strode past him and jumped over to an adjacent branch and took a seat with your back propped against the trunk.

“Just lessening the tension,” you sighed, closing your eyes a moment.

“Lessening the tension, my ass. You act as childish as Jeager.”

“Hey!” Eren scrunched up his face and jutted his chin, squaring his shoulders as though ready for a fight.

“Oulo that’s enough!” Petra cried, shooting her companion a glare. “Captain Levi said that Commander said this was of utmost importance, so you’d better act like it!”

“Of course it’s of most importance dear Petra, I just don’t see why Captain placed me here among you children instead of taking me with him for assistance.” Oulo clicked his tongue in annoyance, his posture aloft and dismissive.

“Assistance in what? Impersonations?” Gunther scoffed from his place leaned against one of the thick tree trunks with a humored grin.

“Wh-I do not…”

“You do, Oulo.”

You smirked to yourself on the opposite branch. Their banter never failed to boost your moral. Especially now with so much clouding your mind.

You listened in as Eren jumped into the banter, and observed how the conversation took a more somber mood a moment later. With a grunt you stood and brushed yourself off, waltzing your way closer to your companions.

“Eld’s right, we’re in some weird shit right now. But don’t you worry Eren, we’ve got this under control,” you comforted the younger man with a grin.

He returned your smile, seemingly more at ease now with the reassurance of his friends. His shoulders were less tense now, and his hands finally fell from their fists.

With a frown you lowered your gaze to your boots. You understood his rage towards the beast. A devil, really. Another shifter in Paradis; only, this one was bloodthirsty and dangerous.

Hearing all those strangled cries behind you on the trail, accompanied by sickening crunches from bones snapping into pieces and tearing through flesh…It sickened you, made you see red as your hands shook. You’d had to restrain yourself as much as Eren from breaking formation then and there to take her out.

So many lives lost…So many you had to repay…

A sharp crack off in the distance startled you from your thoughts.

Turning to face the direction your comrades all stared off at, you saw a plume of black smoke shoot up over the tree line.

“A flair signal,” Eren gasped.

“That’s our cue. It’s gotta be Captain’s signal to regroup. We’ll head that way immediately,” Eld addressed you all, finally a small smile tugging at his thin lips.

“This’ll all be over soon. Gunther, watch the rear with Y/N. Petra, Oulo, stay at Eren’s sides. I’ll take the lead.”

“Sir yes sir!” You chirped, already clipping your handles to your blades. Taking a stand beside Gunther, you shot him a grin as you watch the others shoot off into the forrest ahead of you.

“No crazy stunts, L/N. Not till we’re back in HQ.” Gunther chuckled, loosening up more now as he shot off ahead of you.

Rolling your eyes, you leapt from the tree to catch up. “Yeah yeah. You keep Oulo and Petra under control, I’ll keep Eren and myself sane.”

As the forest flew past you in a blur, and your friends in front of you continued to banter back and forth through the air, you allowed yourself a deep breath of relief.

So far, everything had gone to plan…

════════════════════════════════════════

“Levi, restock on your gas and blades then regroup with your squad. We must get Eren out of here as soon as possible.”

Scoffing under his breath, Levi watched as the carnage below nearly drowned out his Commander’s order. As the titans ravaged the unknown shifter’s steaming corpse only meters below him, the Captain ran a hand down his face in frustration.

“My tanks are full, and my blades were replenished earlier. I’ll be fine,” He countered, shooting a raised brown over at the tall blonde.

Erwin didn’t budge, his sharp gaze fixated on the scene below. “That’s an order, Levi. Restock, then regroup,”

Assessing Erwin only a second longer, Levi clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

With that he shot down to the ground some ways away from the titans and quickly topped off his gas containers and placed new blades into the metal scabbards at his sides, before loading up a flair gun and taking off the way he’d come.

No matter how fast he flew through the trees scanning for any clues as to where his squad had gone, he couldn’t escape the rush of worries running through his mind.

If she escaped, she could be ahead of me…with them. If she didn’t, then we threw lives away for nothing yet again.

If she did manage to escape, and I don’t reach my squad in time…

Levi shook his head and grit his teeth, pressing down harder on the gas trigger.

No, I will reach them in time. I haven’t given the signal yet, so they haven’t moved from the trees. They shouldn’t have…They haven’t. They’re still there. She still there-

Levi’s train of thought was quickly interrupted as a shape came into view amongst the trees. A deafening crack bounced off the trees around him, with a light akin to lightning illuminating his surrounding more then they already were. A shift had occurred, no doubt, but from who, he had no way of knowing.

Through the yellow hue, Levi came to a brief stop near the object and sucked in a breath.

Twisted in his own wires, the lifeless gaze of Gunther’s eyes stared back at his face.

With newfound urgency, Levi was once again shooting through the trees.

I ‘was’ too late. She ‘did’ get ahead of me…

A second crack lit up the forrest, making Levi’s hands grip his handles all the more tightly as he listened to the undeniable scream of Eren’s rage resonating through forrest. Damnit, where were they…

Grunted curses flew from his lips nearly as fast as he shot through the trees, desperately scanning both the tree tops and the floor below for any sign of movement. Or dare he think, any sign of what might remain.

A scream he knew all too well filled his ears as he entered a clearing in the wood, knocking him from his line of focus. Whipping his gaze this way and that, he was unable to see where she might have gone. Instead, all he saw were the broken remains of his squad lying about in heaps across the trampled ground.

Goddamnit Y/N…Not you too…

════════════════════════════════════════

What felt like days might have only been hours. Or even just minuets. Every second that passed you by only reminded you of the pain that coursed through every limb.

And still I failed…

Of course the flair signal had been a trap. You should have seen that coming. As Gunther fell victim before your very eyes, and the figure weaving in and out of sight to your left finally took form in the shape of the dreaded shifter, you’d lost yourself to panic a second longer than you should have.

As you were corned in the clearing, it took Eld’s spine snapping into two for you to shake yourself out of your panic. You’d failed to act as defense before now, but you’d be damned if you let this devil claim you all.

You shifted quickly, screaming at Eren to run. Your transformation distracted the female titan just long enough for Oulo and Petra to blind and immobilize her.

But not long enough for them to completely escape.

You’d charged her with a shriek, determined to avenge your fallen squad. Blow after blow you delivered and received, but never once did you waver.

Even when her stronger jaw bit clean through your arm, severing the limb halfway up the humorous. Even when your legs were clawed from your hips and your face torn nearly in half.

Even then, you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop.

Briefly you registered Eren charging in behind you as you clung to the female titan, ripping through the skin of his hand to kickstart his own transformation. You could do nothing but watch as he tackled her, and in turn you. With your broken body flung to the side, you were unable to dodge the next blow thrown your way. The hardened skin of the titan’s heel came crashing down only a foot away from your nape, making your world go completely black.

Now, unable to claw your way out of your titan, you were left steaming in the woods. Unable to move, unable to call for help.

Whether Eren had defeated her, you feared you’d never know. Regardless of the outcome, you started to think that maybe this fate that had befallen you was well deserved.

What good was a shifter like you when you couldn’t even complete an order?

The sound of wire cables anchoring into the trees somewhere around you caught your attention. Though you couldn’t see through titan’s eyes, you could still hear. Straining to listen, you heard the zipping of cables cease, only to be replaced by rushed footsteps and a panicked call.

Another moment of silence followed, in which you were only slightly aware of a presence standing on your titan’s back. Blinding light filled your senses, and you felt your body being forcefully removed from the wreckage.

Finally able to see, you turned your head with a grunt to see just who had pulled you out.

Forehead damp with sweat and evaporating titan blood, hands shaking as they held you up into a seated position with a pained grunt. You squinted your eyes and furrowed your brow.

“L-levi?”

“You don’t have the energy to talk, brat. You’re not healing as fast as you normally do.” Levi grumbled, observing your steaming body.

A raspy chuckle escaped your chapped lips despite yourself. “Probably cause I got stepped on. Should have seen what I did to her though.”

“I did. She escaped.” He replied bluntly, picking you up with ease as he stood.

Letting your head fall against his shoulder, you let out a shaky sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t act fast enough. If I had…t-the squad…she wouldn’t have gotten away-“

“I said you don’t have the energy to talk brat. Focus on healing yourself while I rush us back to the front. They’ve started to depart, and I’ll be damned if we’re left stranded out here alone.”

Humming half heartedly in agreement, you closed your eyes as you felt him shoot back up into the trees. For a minute, you did try to focus on healing. But at the moment, that felt impossible.

No, undeserving.

“I’m sorry…I couldn’t save them.”

“It’s not your fault, Y/N.” The soft tone of his voice surprised you, making you peer up at him.

“You did what you could. And it’s more than any of us could have done. Both you and Eren will be returned to base soon enough. I’m just glad you survived.”

“But the others…Gunther, Eld, Petra, Oulo…”

You felt him physically shudder at their names being spoken. Undoubtedly, you knew he had seen what you had. Shying away from his gaze, you kept your eyes on your steaming skin.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” he sighed, coming to a stop by grappling into the nearest tree and kneeling against the bark with a pained huff. “I wasn’t there in time. Not only did the bitch get away, but it left you injured in the process. I never wished for you to end up in this state.”

You examined his face, what of it you could see as he turned away. The pain etched into every mark lining his furrowed brow only made you feel worse.

“I won’t end up like this again, and that’s a promise. I’ll get stronger, I’ll be better,” you whispered, gently tugging at his chin to make him meet your eye.

“It won’t be like this next time. I’ll train more, prepare more…so that I can save more.”

Finally, his frown let up and his brow relaxed. Cradling you more firmly against him, he caged you in his arms and shot his wires into the next tree. To your surprise, he looked down to meet your eye before taking off again; this time, with a hint of a smile.

“Well unless this training idea of yours involves setting me up in another damned tree without my gear, I’ll be there with you. Every step of the way.”

[thecryptidgrey]

As an avid lover of his Dark Materials I have yet to see a BG3 daemons concept and that is a Crime. So here are some Thoughts below the cut :)

(Also something something about the representation of religion in HDM and how it correlates to BG3's depictions of faith and trauma. I have the Idea but I am too tired to do much with it; may return to the thought later.)

Shadowheart- a borzoi. Elegant, spooky looking, dramatic. Borzoi don't make much vocal noise but are very playful- instincts surpressed by Sharrens that thrive with the party (see that very cute night orchid scene specifically). Generally very sweet, loyal animals, like SH when you get to know her. Plus they look amazing.

(Act 3 spoilers- I also appreciate that she'll match it when she dyes her hair. Seems suitable dramatic for her.) Anyways, I also really like borzois and think it's be funny af to see in them trotting around in game like the weird willow tree ghost things they are.

Lae'zel- Githyanki don't have daemons; she finds them baffling. Very impractical to carry one's soul on the exterior, although perhaps an efficient companion in combat to have someone you share instincts with. After much discussion by the others she decides for them if she did have one it would be a red dragon. Nobody argues with that.

(She does decide she'd have to prove herself worthy of such a beast first, and if she trusts Tav admits that maybe she'd like if Vlaakith could give her a daemon bond with her future dragon. Would she get a dragon if she became Vlaakith's chosen? Idk, she would now.)

Karlach- Tieflings also don't have daemons. She wants one wholeheartedly. The party finds her a magic ring that allows her to summon a familiar- she gets a direwolf puppy as enthusiastic and adoring as she is :)

Said ring is obtained somewhere in the Shadowlands after she gets the cooldown upgrade so she can hug it as soon as she has it. Also it grows up absolutely massive. Its paws are the size of its head when it's a puppy. All the better for cuddling with!

Gale- Tara. Wizards, sorcerers, etc, tend to have magical creatures as familiars. This AU he had Tara since the beginning. He still summoned all the other weird shit he did as a kid, just with Tara's help. She is his voice of reason and holder of the braincells; he gets to keep one and it's all about Mystra. She's protecting the rest from its corruption. He gets them back when the party convinces him to tell Mystra to go fuck herself.

(I do chew upon the trans Gale headcanon sometimes. If anyone wishes to muse with me on how daemons, which are typically of the opposite sex to their human, would be incorporated into that, please do.) Edit- pls see comments for very illuminating interpretations of daemons and gender!! Very cool stuff!

Wyll- lanner falcon. Medium sized yet formidable bird of prey, the head of which was often depicted on Egyptian gods like Ra and Horus. Beautiful, noble and nimble creatures (good for a dexterity based build, which I focused on for him alongside charisma).

Mizora's pact significantly lengthened their tether; her devil-form punishment broke it and weakened their bond significantly, much to their distress- they hate to be out of vision of one another as a result. Halsin, Jaheira and especially my Tav Cerewyn helped him adapt to and understand the new tether.

Druids and their daemons are based on the His Dark Materials witches, who have significantly lengthened bonds. Druid bonds are just as strong in markedly different ways; each is more independent and their personalities more distinct. I will definitley expand more on this; I adore Wyll and really want to do his character justice. He's the knight in shining armour but he also made a deal with a devil to be said knight, so, y'know. His daemon should really reflect that complexity.

Astarion- luna moth (changed when he turned- he can't remember what she was before.)

Beautiful in a fragile, showy way. Short-lived. Desperate for the light. A silkmoth; silk for embroidery. He resents her for being such a reflection of the self he tries so desperately to hide yet is fiercely protective of her, so beautiful and soft and hopeful- moths exist to seek light, craving it like he longed for a knight in shining armour, like he yearns for the sun.

Cazador liked to pin her wings.

(I love my sad wet cat very much and so as payback for hurting my soul he is subjected to the tragedy that is my attempting to be poetic :) )

Halsin- bear. Druid daemons reflect their favoured Wild shapes. Strong, steady, reliable, protective. Optimal shape for snuggles, very nice and warm, overall :) vibes to look at and be around. (Bear is not present for That Scene. That Scene and daemons are not up for discussion, you degenerates. Thank you <3)

Jaheira- Eurasian lynx. Struggled a bit on this one- didn't think any of the wild shapes suited her as a daemon- so looked up the national animal of Romania (supposedly Jaheira's accent?) for potential inspiration. Got the lynx, which seems perfect. Medium sized, elegant, very dignifed and deadly hunters who inhabit forests. Notably very quiet and hard to track. Endangered, which resonated with me because of Jaheira's status as one of the last of the Old Guard, so to speak. Nocturnal, which I like because we meet Jaheira in the shadow-cursed lands. Ambush predator, which just goes with my Gloom Stalker build for her. Overall seems perfect for the legendary druid.

Minsc- Boo? Fuck knows man, Minsc gonna Minsc. I spent way too long thinking about Jaheira and now I don't have the energy left. If Gale can have Tara, Minsc can have Boo. I do love Minsc so I will be back to expand on him if the mood strikes me but also I think maybe I don't need to? Daemon Boo just seems Right. Will consult Minsc's backstory and update later if necessary.

Minthara- yet to recruit her so uncertain. Displacer beast seems apt, maybe? Something felinoid would really fit her tbh. Elegant and lethal, very aloof but loyal once you've got her. Input would be appreciated.

My Tav, Cerewyn, just in case ya'll are interested- a raven named Gwyn, short for something I haven't figured out how to spell yet.

Clever, calculating, very blunt and sarcastic to balance out Cere's generally stoic, quite, calm demeanour. Sharp eyed bird for a sharpshooter ranger's daemon. Cere is a beast master ranger/ druid of land multiclass; ravens are summonable both for wild companions and familiars and are a wild shape (Cere's preferred wild shape too).

A common species but not to be underestimated and generally unpredictable, which suits her. She romances Astarion and both she and the raven think he and his luna moth are the prettiest things they've ever seen. They're also very patient and perceptive of trauma due to (Extensive Backstory), so they're more than happy to take their time with earning his trust. Astarion is very appreciative of all the shiny things the raven likes to bring him, and also that it clawed one of Cazador's eyes out for daring to speak to Astarion like That.

CONC.; symbolism is fun and also painful :)

Daemon names are a work in progress; the muses gave me this then said lol nope and fucked off before I could ask them for appropriate names. Might post them with some sketches of the party and daemons together?

(I wrote this in Notes app at an ungodly hour with fuck all editing. It is incoherent, but if anything is genuinely incomprehensible, please tell me so I may at least try to fix it. Much love <3 if you made it this far you get to know I welcome suggestions for NPCs to give daemons next!)

First edit- I misspelled quiet so many times omfg

[cherrycherryking]

Hi! I love your stuff with Wally!! I was wondering if you could do Wally (Or Eddie if you write for him) with a reader who likes to write and make up fun stories to share with friends? (You don’t have to but I think it’d be cute) Oki have a nice daaaay :))

sooo idk if you just wanted this to be just and x reader or a character ideas, so, i did both!! hope you like it <3

(+some drawings!)

┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴

Wally Darling x Gen!Reader (platonic or romantic) Eddie Dearest x Gen!Reader (platonic or romantic)

Writer Character

✧We got ourselves a little writer!

✧Or maybe an author, or a librarian, or a poet- point is! You love to write and create this silly funny stories for all of your friends to see.

✧Some fun concepts for a character like this could be a bee cause spelling bee! Or a mouse because library mouse (or just whatever you like)

✧We know in the show there was storybook sections. I think a lot of these would be narrated and a lot of times even created by you!

✧I can picture your segment starting with the camera focusing on you reading or writing, then inviting the viewer to follow the story along. As you may imagine for a kids show they all had a neat message at the end.

✧Oh, and another resident smarty pants! I can think of some chapters or scenes where you teach spelling and grammar. "No, is not t-h-e-y-r-e, they're birthday, but t-h-e-i-r, their birthday!" (or maybe like me you suck at spelling, so ignore this lol)

✧For outfits i can suggest plaid pattern, glasses, a vest or maybe a cardigan! You can either go for a well put together smart little guy or a mess of a bookworm (that's like a scale on my head.)

✧Sally and you could be good friends now that i think about it! She loooves to make her friends perform her plays and you're just the perfect helper for that.

(if you use this as a base credit me and tag me so i can see!!)

✧Maybe appear with Frank as well, I think he could borrow books if you have a library or even have a little book club with other neighbors :]

───────────.★..─╮ Eddie x Reader ─..★.───────────╯

✧Oh you appear to help when he's teaching arts and crafts!

✧If you're big into reading, or trying to publish a book or any other sort of thing then you would see Eddie pretty often because he would always have a package or letter for you.

✧He's a bit of a forgetful klutz so you always make sure to help him a little by organizing a calendar for him! Writing down stuff you know for sure he'll forget.

✧Yes it makes him a little bit embarrassed to say the least but he's infinitely grateful of your help.

✧Every single morning in his usual route if he has the time, he always goes past your house to say hello and catch up on what you have been writing! Eddie is interested in the story you have and always listens to it with so much focus, almost as if you were telling him the hottest latest gossip of them all.

(help my poor soul im getting into an art block. eddie someday i will make you justice i promise.)

✧Or maybe you walk with him a little to accompany him. Just a heads up! Be ready to catch him when he inevitably falls because of some marbles julie forgot to pick up, a plastic duck (Barnaby- pick up your trash!) or just because!!

✧But is all worth it at the end of the day. Eddie always has time for you and your rambles. Only problem is he likes everything you write so he's not the best person if you're searching for criticism!

───────────.★..─╮ Wally x Reader ─..★.───────────╯

✧As the most prominent character of the series the plot follows Wally, and that's a way you two end up talking so much for a starters.

✧Any time Wally is staring at his canvas with no idea of what to draw he thinks "Well, they surely will have an idea" and go search for you (that is if you're not already there).

✧Thinking about how many chapters could follow the formula of you and Wally brainstorming ideas for a story, with him drawing what you narrate (and we come back to the storybook sections of the show!)

✧He would ask you "what are you doing today, neighbor?" to which you respond that you are writing about something! He asks what, you respond, he asks for more context of your story and- well now you're infodumping to him telling him all about what you have so far.

✧Oh but he would definitely be the type to draw your characters because "they are a lot of fun".

✧Picturing calm afternoons consisting of the two of you doing parallel play and every so often showing the other your progress <3

┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴┬┴

by the end i kinda got into an artblock 😭😭 og plan was to make two rendered drawings, one for wally other for eddit yet it appears i flew too close to the sun. my god.

also this is my first time writing eddie so i'm not sure if i captured him correctly! in any case thank you so much for reading.

[scintillyyy]

you know, i kind of touched on this in my au post earlier today, but it really got me thinking about how much tim joins the batfam early/jason doesn't die in ethiopia really, really relies on fanon understanding of relationships and almost has to prioritize the jason&tim relationship/perpetuate the idea that jason was "tim's robin" (my eyebrow twitches even writing that) because if it doesn't and we go by canon....jason really kind of ends up adrift due to tim's arrival, if he's not the person that tim is absolutely fixated on/that is saving tim.

because tim doesn't canonically need to be saved! he's not that socially awkward, he can make friends within 5 minutes of entering a room. he doesn't really need jason to do anything for him, to be anyone special for him. like, he admittedly probably admires jason-robin, but like, in an abstract way, not a super emotional way. tim would admire current robin whether it was jason in the costume or some random kid named jeff. jason's canonically not that special to tim, not like dick is. if jason quit and bruce replaced him with someone who wasn't jason, tim would just move on to admiring whoever is robin next and not really think about jason anymore, because the only robin who matters long-term is dick.

so if jason isn't the center of tim's world we get a tim who joins the batfam and immediately gets his canonical super-special connection with dick, through dick's parents and the night they fell and being there. and this is a connection that jason will always be excluded from, a wall between them almost. like, they might all like each other. dick does love jason. but it's almost like when you introduce two friends of yours and they immediately click super well and become better friends with each other than they are with you. like, dick is a good brother to jason. but jason's arrival will forever be marred by the actions of bruce, because bruce was the one who chose jason, though dick did eventually accept him as a brother. tim on the other hand came in connected intrinsically with dick. in many ways, tim is the brother without the baggage of bruce. tim is the brother that dick chose for himself based on past connection and fated past meetings. he's picture kid. he's the brother because of dick's parents, not because of bruce.

and isn't that lonely and a bit isolating for jason? sure he has his bond with bruce/his dad, but when it comes to his peers he is a bit on the outside looking in--he doesn't have a same-generation cohort. (which is also why i think it's funny when *tim* is always the one who's cast as this social outcast who has no bonds to anyone. now, i don't think that any of the batkids are socially awkward--on the contrary, i think they're all very good with people, but canonically, due to the short time he was alive for post-treatment, jason doesn't really have a ton of friends outside of bruce and alfred. and idk he doesn't seem to see a need to have a ton of friends! he's perfectly content being batman's son, batman's robin, he doesn't really need anyone or anything else. sure he enjoyed his mission with the titans that one time, but he's not really searching for outside connections or friends for him and bruce, not like tim does as robin. because jason is shown to be pretty content with the way things are--until we get closer to death in the family, ofc, but that's not really about feeling lonely for friends, but feeling lonely for his mother. idk do we ever have him yearning for friends? i'm not as well versed on all of jason as robin)

anyways, then we get superboy and impulse and wonder girl and young justice and they're still very much tim's cohort, not jason's. they are 13-15 year olds who act like 13-15 year olds. jason being like...2-3 years older than them would not fit in from a maturity level. and he probably does more with the titans on occasion, but he's only like 17 and they're all like...20s and having kids so he doesn't quite fit in fully there either, they just treat him like a younger brother. so where does he fit? he's kind of alone in his own odd little solitary generation there. tim doesn't really need him. dick doesn't really need him. all he has really is bruce, his dad and best friend. so it's like, when it comes to these types of stories...if jason is not tim's #1 upon tim joining the family, then what does jason have?

and i do see some resentment there. not like, pure hatred. but isn't life unfair? this kid comes in and his life is seemingly pretty good for him at first. he has dick's love unconditionally. he writes barbara thank you notes. he has a easy way of moving through the superhero community making friends with everyone like dick does and oh, i think that's a big frustration. because i don't think jason was jealous and angry at dick all the time but he was notably a little frustrated at having to live in dick's shadow sometimes (again, see his mission with the titans where he loses his temper that they look at just his uniform and expect him to be dick for them) and then to see tim have those traits like dick that jason-as-robin struggles with and thrive with them?

so yea. that's why i think a lot of those aus really depend on needing to make jason tim's #1, because if he's not, then where else does he belong?

[sophapop]

City of Stars | Professor Layton Animatic

❗️[MINOR SPOILERS TO UNWOUND FUTURE]❗️

OMG WOW JUST WOW how did I get here?! I finished a WHOLE animatic within a few days,,,HOLY F-

I just really really want to say that this piece of art I’ve made was my first ever finished animatic. I have tried to make animatics in the past but my motivation was not doing it for me. But for this one in particular, the idea came into my head around a week or two ago before making this animatic. It’s kinda funny considering that I get sudden bursts of motivation to make grand projects before I start college ahahahah. However, within the short time span I had, I spedrun through it but gave it just enough time to pour my heart into it. This may not be my Magnus Opus (it is for the moment ><💖💕💖) BUUUTTT! This could potentially lead to one in the future perhaps?? Idk, we’ll see ;)

As for the context for this animatic: Clive is having some doubts about a relationship with his special someone (who that someone is, y’all can make your guesses ;] ) that he wants to keep, but he can’t at the same time because he wants to continue forward with his mission for justice. He’s confused and conflicted, to put it simply. Will he leave his s/o behind? Or will he stay with them? 👀

That’s enough context for now, I hope you guys will enjoy it animatic as much as I did making it ♡(=^ ◡ ^=)

Let’s hope in the near future that I’ll have enough motivation to make more projects like this!! 🤞

[quietbluejay]

The Buried Dagger 1

OKAY mortarion time ….i forgot this was the book with purple prose and i had to go back in terror to make sure I didn't accidentally buy a McNeill novel again i did not, this is thankfully (?) someone else

I'm trying to figure out what about this pushes it into "Wow Edgy" rather than being genuinely compelling well actually this isn't too bad, to be honest, it's really the next bit which is that the population of ynyx (and WHAT a name) doesn't have mouths "the cold ember of his familiar, obdurate resentment" I feel like I'm being unfair to the book by feeling bathos instead of pathos but i think it's that everything is so over the top

wait what year was this written Mortarion is literally breathing in the chemicals 2019 I'm now going to suffer from the belief that the writer of this was listening to Radioactive (due to this plus some other things) and now I've got it stuck in my head

i want to take this seriously but i just can't, I'm sorry no one understands meeeeeeeee owo uncomfortable memory surfaces

i will say this, the prose is quite evocative

ok so mort has a giant chip on his shoulder and is an enormous misanthrope but just about every single person who has ever been in a position of authority over him DOES just use him as a tool

boy did he choose the wrong side of the war

tumblr has poisoned my mind regarding "the horrors" so it feels like "every day mortarion gets emails" mortarion: hm maybe i should get rid of the daemon and also all the stuff i used to summon him and go back to normal warfare

holy shit holy shit he really is his father's son also hey uhhh mortarion do you remember that whole slippery slope speech you gave at Nikaea about literally this exact topic

the irony is killing me you're killing me, Reaper of Men, and I'm not even a man the manreaper of….justice (????) is unisex oh yeah i forgot to bring it up but Mort calling Magnus an "arrogant braggant" fills my salty soul with glee

morty continues to try out for that fantasy villain role i think i'm warming up to the prose though

im breathing in the chemicals- im breathing in the chemicals- im breathing in the chemicals-

i think swallow's cd kept skipping while he wrote this

this is the third time he's breathed in the chemicals

it's totally not a ritual, honest! okay, this is a cool fight scene mortarion can be cool in a fight, as a treat

lmao

yes. this is funny to me. Mortarion is just so done with this whole thing Mort: why did i get sent on this sidequest rip typhon killstealing

mortarion would really like to be starring in a different genre oh no cursed idea my thought was "what genre would be funniest to put him in" which was followed by "this is our get-along harem protagonist" but it's mort and rob idk at the end of godblight they got yeeted my next thought was magical girl anime he's the dark magical girl's mascot creature he is having friendship! just hdu call him and the magical girl friends

typhon plotting out how to ambush mortarion with a hug

uhhhhhh

typhon: yeahhhh better not bring up the Fallen honestly typhon feels like one of the most intelligent characters in the series! ….huh why weren't the dark angels at Terra

dude and then typhon internally cackles evilly like a kids show villain everything is going according to keikaku does your brain on nurgle turn you into snidely whiplash?

Mortarion what the heck

normal behaviour to go along with the poison drinking or breathing in the chemicals and breathing in the chemicals- and breathing in the okay i'll stop

literally everyone on the ship is choking but typhon that was fast owo flashback time

okay so his evil dad (the first one) sent him out with golems to fight other golem things from other evil overlords as a test of some kind this is just his entire life, huh

oh lovely like wow the only reason mortarion's alive is that he's a primarch the abuse is kind of getting to ridiculous angst-fic levels and yet the way it's written is genuinely compelling? probably because he's not actually a normal human so it is survivable and not ridiculous but it is kind of walking on that line thrown to starving dogs when he was a toddler like

this really is his entire life huh

annnnd also Necare experimented on him with poison what next did necare give him a dog and then kill the dog in front of him we're starting to get into bathos here

the last bit of this scene is, yeahh

a bit. on the overwrought side.

The book is tap dancing on the line which is to be honest, making me sad i really want this to be good :/

if it's going to go all the way into goofy, i want it to go all the way so i can mock it if it's going to be half hard hitting and half goofy it feels like im pulling back to punch a small child this book also unfortunately has some kind of subplot on earth with a bunch of rando characters and also, unfortunately, Garro

oh this is i guess foreshadowing for what's going to happen to the death guard? so garro's friend got hit by an evil knife and unlike guilliman he did not have plot armour

so garro is working with a bunch of other dudes who defected from the traitor legions secretly working for malcador oh, and a psyker ultramarine

oh wait psyker ultramarine met garro on calth??? what??? how did he get to calth and back what is a timeline (i should be fair and stop banging on about this since i have not actually read the relevant books. at least I assume this has to be covered in a book I didn't read)

oh yeah sure let's undress the catatonic chained up woman oh she's a sister of silence my beloved

okay so context she had her name and serial number tattooed under her collarbone so. i guess that was more important??? apparently??? they did not take off the chains they just snapped them off of the wall and basically pushed her to start walking you couldn't just. pick her up??? wouldn't that be faster?? okay this was funny malcador sends an illusion of himself across the planet

I'm rolling my eyes

this is the guy running the imperium

does he have nothing better to do also why give them the job in the first place if he's not going to trust them not to "creatively reinterpret" his commands

oh we're back with Teen Mort and he keeps a diary ohhh a bunch of humans are rebelling and attacking

oh it's Teen Typhon meeting Teen Mort

psychic powers time

this is not the time to get angsty also he is kind of a grimdark rapunzel huh

back in the present and apparently mort broods a lot in his room and if you interrupt him he yells at you because of course he does you're interrupting his linkin park listening bluejay note: i love linkin park so i am allowed to make this joke annnd typhon is setting up the navigators on the ship to take the blame oh he just killed them all that was fast and now they're all trapped blind in the warp and typhon is being obviously evil and according to keikaku which is visible to everyone but Mort well tbf to Mort, he's very angry at Typhon for killing the navigators so he's probably missing stuff

typhon: this lifeboat is full of leeches just trust me typhon: throws it overboard

back in the past, Mort successfully rescues the spunky teens but his dad is coming so he tells them to get out while they can and then has his disney princess song realization that it's time to stand up for himself and he'd do it all again! and face his dad! and dieeeee okay the last bit isn't disney princess …ah

ah mort: wait, that's an option??? rip his hair is getting in his eyes i hate when that happens

okay this is a cheesy line but it's working here

okay i made the joke before about mortarion being the kind of guy who likes to stand on cliffs/balcony edges and look down but i DIDNT KNOW IT WAS LITERALY DONT STARE INTO THE WARP YOU IDIOT

i. oh boy we get to see an emperor-mort interaction

i think the emperor is….actually trying here? but what the emperor is trying to say here is not what mort took from it