#I can’t remember if I posted about it here or not

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Just remembered the fallen god reader thingy- what if reader just one day regains their power ;)) and then just leaves them, I'm like super offended ;(( I dont wanna be mistreated by them

ahaha this ask made me chuckle a little! unfortunately my version of yandere archons aren't sweet in every scenario, i do still hope you enjoy though! :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including mentions of being held against ones will, mentions of manipulation, mentions of violence, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Venti:

Well, he certainly can’t just let you leave, not after all that hard work he put into nursing you back to health. No no, don’t you see, you owe him. You could try and claim he was doing it out of the goodness of his heart, I mean he’s an Archon, a god just like you, doesn’t he see how unjust it is to demand payment?

You could beg and plead all you want, but unless your powers are enough to break the elemental barriers he’s set up, then I’m afraid you’re trapped. He won’t mistreat you, he’ll be nice and sweet to you so long as you behave, but your freedom will forever be removed.

“It’s not fair you say? A lot of things in this world aren’t fair, it’s just how it is.” His bright smile and humorous laugh do little to settle your unrest. No matter how hard you begged, how fast the tears poured from your eyes, or how strained your voice became from constant pleading, nothing worked. Perhaps if you learned to behave he’d let you see the sun again, until then, think long and well about all he had done for you. Remember exactly just how much you owe him for the things he’s done for you.

Zhongli:

He finds it curious that your powers have suddenly returned, but it does little to change his authority over you. Regardless of the strength you show or possess, Zhongli has ingrained into your mind just how weak and pathetic you are. You are nothing without him, your silly little powers mean nothing if you aren’t here with him. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see that you need him?

There’s little that would change about the dynamic between the two of you, if anything it just gives Zhongli an excuse to be around you more. His eyes seem to always be observing you now, watching keenly to ensure you don’t dare step out of line. There will be consequences if you should try.

“Dinner is done, come eat.” His tone is warm, but there’s a familiar sense of sternness in the undertone. Since the resurgence of your powers, Zhongli had made sure to remind you of your place below him. It didn’t matter how hard you fought, the elder god showed little remorse when overpowering you. It was astounding to think that even after the loss of his gnosis he could still hold such power over you, but then again, Morax wasn’t known as the God of War for nothing.

Raiden:

She doesn’t believe you at first, those who lose their divinity are not simply granted it back. It would take a long while and many displays of your capabilities to convince her. It doesn’t much change her opinion of you though. Raiden still thinks you are foolish and weak to have lost your powers to begin with. And for that, you should suffer the consequences.

Every escape attempt or effort put in to fight back is quickly shut down. She doesn’t even let you build up the hope that you’ll be able to land a hit before she’s got you disarmed, pinned, and once more shown your place beneath her. It gets a bit frustrating, having to always correct your silly outburst.

“When will you learn that you are nothing compared to me? You should be grateful I have enough decency to put up with this behavior, if you were anyone else I’d have tossed you to the streets like the pathetic waste you seem keen on acting like.” Her words are as rough and painful as her hold on you is. She has you under her, pinned to the floor in the living room of her home. It’s an embarrassing sight, your face held down to the hardwood as she scolds you like a child. This wasn’t the first time it had happened, but Raiden had hoped that by now you’d have learned your lesson. She is getting incredibly fed up with you.

Furina:

Your return of power puts her in a tough position because before when you were powerless, she had something to hold over your head. Now, you hold the power and she’s left to flounder.

There isn’t much she can do to keep you from leaving, sobbing on her knees as you walk towards the front door. It wasn’t fair, it wasn't fair that you got to get back what you lost, it wasn’t fair that you got to still be connected to divinity when she was cut entirely from it. 

“Please, please don’t leave me…” Furina kneels on the ground, hands balled into fists as she begs and sobs. She can just barely see the sides of your shoes as you walk past, disregarding her as you head for the front door. When she’s sure you’re not looking she ceases her crying, the tears were fake from the start. Reaching for the pipe she hid under the couch, she silently grabs it before standing. It was easier to hit you, having stopped in the doorway to admire your freedom, you had been too caught up to hear the soft patter of her footsteps behind you.

#genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x male reader #venti x reader #yandere venti x reader #venti x male reader #yandere venti x male reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x male reader #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere zhongli x male reader #raiden x reader #raiden x male reader #yandere raiden x reader #yandere raiden x male reader #furina x reader #furina x male reader #yandere furina x reader #yandere furina x male reader #yandere genshin #yandere furina #yandere raiden #yandere zhongli #yandere venti

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Banana Split

Steven Grant x GN!Reader • Rating: M •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist• ko-fi •

Summary: You get an ice cream.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: Last one for the MK bingo! I didn't quite get to finish the board (the other fics are just not in a good state to post, maybe I'll sort them out one day ^^)

Warnings: finger sucking, over use of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 638

It had started with a playful argument about banana splits when you were in Kaspas. 

You weren’t quite sure how the discussion had started, just that the aforementioned desert had been on the menu and Steven and Marc had gone at it. 

Their bickering was always playful, a kind of sparring match that they seemed to partake in mainly for sport, and not so much for actually arguing about a topic. 

Seventy percent of the time you were pretty sure that they only took opposite sides so that they could continue quarrelling. 

Steven had said that banana splits were invented in the UK. Marc said USA. Steven had gotten up the Wikipedia page. Marc had gloated about how he was right. Steven had countered with, ‘yeah, but it does say no one knows for sure, doesn’t it? So it could have been anywhere.’ Marc had complained Steven was a sore loser, and ‘that everyone that could have been credited with inventing it was from America. So he wins.’ Steven had added, ‘Technically, you can’t invent a food.’ Marc, his tone dripping with exasperation, ‘Oh, getting technical now, are we? Because you’re a sore loser?’ 

It had carried on from there.  

Somewhere in between laughing you hadn’t quite been paying attention to your own ice cream sundae and some of the strawberry sauce had worked its way along the spoon and onto your fingers. You’d tutted and wiped it with a napkin, and hadn’t thought much more of it. 

That was until later when you were walking through the park with Steven and your fingers kept brushing together and sticking. The sauce, even though on inspection you could see absolutely no trace of it, was there on some microscopic level. Catching and fusing your fingers together. You tried to wipe your skin clean on a spare tissue, and then your trousers to no avail. 

The sensation was driving you close to madness. The constant irritation. The unending catch and pull. You couldn’t stop them from sticking without holding your fingers apart at a weird angle that started to cramp your hand. 

You needed to find a toilet, a sink, hell, even a puddle. Anything to-

“Love? You okay?” Steven frowns sympathetically, looking down at your hand. 

You nod halfheartedly. “Fingers are sticky.” 

“From the sauce?” 

You nod again.

He gave you a sympathetic look, his eyes softening in that sweet expression. “Poor love.” He kisses your cheek, knowing about and understanding your detest for the sensory experience. 

“Here.” He takes your hand carefully, so as to not push your fingers together. “These two?” He points to your middle and forefinger. 

You barely get a chance to nod, your mouth open to speak, but the words die in your throat as Steven sticks your fingers in his mouth and sucks them clean.

For a brief moment, all thoughts drain out of your head. Your mind completely blank. You try not to stare, you really do. Your breathing hitches at the slide of his tongue, the warmth of his mouth, the way his eyes have closed. A spark of pleasure rushes down your spine. 

You really, really shouldn’t be enjoying this quite so much. 

He finishes. Taking your fingers out of his mouth with a pop, and smiles innocently. 

You stay staring. 

“Better?”

There is a pause before you remember how to speak. “I… erm…”

“Oh don’t worry!” He beams. “Strawberry sauce is vegan,” he waves a hand dismissively, but I wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t.” 

You grab his arm, your skin burning with a deep heat, and begin to march him towards the park exit. If you didn’t get out of there in the next minute you were going to have to find some bushes to fuck him in.

“Love?” 

“We’re going home.” 

“What? Why?” 

Oh, he’d find out why.

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh @romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho @steven-grants-world  @eyelessupdates @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @soft-girl-musings  @spxctorsslxt @novarosewood

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[gimmethatagustd]

love song (1) | kth + pjm

After a surprise collaboration that shocked their fans, broke records, and earned them a Grammy, salacious rapper V and sweetheart idol Jimin are the duo the music industry didn't know it needed but now can't live without. Fans just have one burning question: Are V and Jimin dating?

○ Pairing: Rapper!Taehyung x Idol!Jimin

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: A/B/O, idols/musicians (not canon/BTS), friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, smut, fluff, light angst

○ Word Count: 7,253

○ Warnings: Suggestive language

○ Notes: This fic was written for the Omega Jimin Fest on AO3. It's inspired by Jungkook's Seven era and the way my soul left my body when I found out he was going to collab with Latto.

○ Post Date: April 29, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Crosspost

○ What was Jai listening to? The series playlist

Series Masterlist

When Seokjin asked Jimin who he wanted to have featured on “Love Song,” he gave his answer before Seokjin could even finish speaking. It was two years ago today that Jimin texted Taehyung, having received his phone number from a friend of a friend. As careful as celebrities are about keeping their contact information away from the public, it often isn’t difficult to poke around for information if you know the right circles. It’s funny how Taehyung’s contact was once saved as “V” in Jimin’s phone rather than “Baby Bear” with an array of emojis.

V was an unexpected choice as a featured artist, which is precisely why he was perfect. Korea’s greatest bad boy, V isn’t known for pushing the boundaries of acceptable behavior in a conservative society — he outright crosses them. Seokjin had been wary of agreeing to Jimin contacting Taehyung about the song only a few months after Taehyung was cleared of a rumored drug scandal ending in a short but well-publicized investigation that found Taehyung innocent of the crime. Whereas most idols’ careers would be sorely impacted by such an experience, Taehyung’s alleged bad behavior only added to his allure.

Was it a risk for Jimin to fraternize with someone like V?

Yes.

Was it worth it?

Two years of friendship and a Grammy later, Jimin knows he wouldn’t change a thing.

Jimin wonders if Taehyung remembers that it’s the second anniversary of their meeting. He shifts slightly and tilts his head to watch Taehyung from where he’s snuggled in his lap, his cheek squished against Taehyung’s upper thigh and the rest of his body curled on the couch under a heap of blankets.

Taehyung is still dressed in the outfit he wore for the final concert of fellow rapper Bibi’s first world tour: a black silk shirt with the buttons undone low enough to show off the multiple thin gold chains that rest against his chest, black skinny jeans with the knees ripped out, and black leather boots. His wavy bangs are pushed away from his forehead, exposing his strong brows and expressive eyes decorated with just a touch of makeup to accentuate his dark irises. 

He’d insisted that Jimin not lie in his lap since he’s sweaty from the performance, but Jimin doesn’t mind; he can’t find any problem with Taehyung smelling more like Taehyung. Sweat and adrenaline from the performance heighten Taehyung’s strong alpha scent, an earthy, spicy combination of driftwood and bourbon that makes Jimin’s nose tingle when he breathes in deeply.

They aren’t at Jimin’s apartment because of their friendship anniversary; they’re here because Jimin is recovering from a particularly draining heat, and Seokjin has a bone to pick with Taehyung. Their argument overstimulates Jimin, who is still sensitive and achy.

Likely noticing Jimin’s subtle movements, Taehyung resumes massaging Jimin’s head with his long fingers, weaving through his hair to deeply massage his scalp. Jimin can’t help but lightly purr, the sound quiet enough that only Taehyung can hear it. Jimin knows Taehyung does because the corner of his mouth twitches with the hint of a suppressed smile, and his dark eyes briefly flit down to look at Jimin before darting up again when Seokjin calls his name.

“Taehyung-ah, are you even listening to me?”

Jimin snuggles against Taehyung’s thighs and tries to ignore Seokjin’s yapping. The two men have been going at it for at least twenty minutes, though Jimin has been dozing intermittently. There’s nothing better for Jimin than to come down from a miserable, week-long heat spent alone by snuggling into his best friend’s warmth.

“Yes, hyung, I’m listening. You said I should be more responsible with Jimin’s image.” Taehyung’s literal response is harmless, but the singsongy, immature way he repeats Seokjin’s scolding sets the man off.

“As Jimin’s manager—”

“Hyung, it was a joke.”

“It is my job to protect him. You saying, in an international interview, that your joint album is going to be more explicit than ‘Love Song’—”

“Isn’t inaccurate.”

“—is unnecessary,” Seokjin clips as he crosses his arms against his chest. “People make assumptions, Taehyung, and it’s my job to control the narrative. You weren’t even supposed to say anything about the album at all. Now we have to move up the promotion schedule, which means we’re in a time crunch, and, well, look at him!”

Jimin drags his eyes from Taehyung’s smirk to Seokjin’s scowl and tries not to laugh at how ridiculous they are. They’re talking about him like he isn’t even there.

“I’m fine,” Jimin murmurs as he pushes back against Taehyung’s hand, which has fallen still, trying to coax him into playing with his hair again. “I’m just dehydrated. You don’t need to worry about me, hyung; it’s just the final symptoms of my heat wearing off. I promise I’m okay.”

No one in the music industry can say that their manager is more committed to them than Seokjin is to Jimin. They’ve been together since Jimin’s group, dreamscape, went on an indefinite hiatus three years ago. Jimin’s debut as a solo artist would have never gone as smoothly as it did without Seokjin’s support.

Of course, such care from a manager means that Jimin is fussed over constantly. Once Taehyung was added to the mix, Jimin found himself being pulled in either direction by two men who care for him dearly but don’t always think with their whole brains.

It’s cute rather than harmful, especially when Taehyung fusses. When Taehyung looks at Jimin with kind eyes brimming with affection, Jimin has to beat down the fluttering that kicks up in his chest without fail. It’s just the hormones from his heat, Jimin’s omega being needy, and Taehyung’s alpha being the closest one around. As a beta, Seokjin’s fussing does nothing but warm Jimin’s heart; as an alpha, Taehyung’s fussing makes Jimin feel things he chooses not to think about. It’s just hormones.

With a sigh, Seokjin slumps in the armchair across from the couch in Jimin’s living room. He reaches for his glass of red wine, which sits on the coffee table. Tucking his long hair behind his ear when he tilts his head back, Seokjin finishes the rest of his drink in one swallow.

“Tomorrow is Sunday.” Seokjin avoids Taehyung, choosing to look at Jimin, who barely has his eyes cracked open.

“Mhmm.”

“On Monday, the three of us and Yoongi are meeting with the director to finalize the details for the ‘Hurt So Good’ music video. Taehyung,” Seokjin points his empty wine glass at him, “If Yoongi doesn’t show up on time, I swear to god I will shit a brick.”

“What about the BuzzFeed Thirst Tweets episode?” Jimin asks as he slowly rises from Taehyung’s lap to sit beside him. “That’s on Wednesday, right?”

Irritation muddles Taehyung’s scent into something biting and charred. 

“I don’t know why I’m in trouble over what I said when that BuzzFeed episode is gonna be a million times worse than anything I’ve ever done,” Taehyung is whining, but he’s got a smug twinkle in his eyes when he glances at Jimin, as though checking to see if he’s paying attention.

Of course, Jimin is. When Taehyung’s in the room, it’s impossible for Jimin not to give him his undivided attention.  

Seokjin eventually leaves, but not without lecturing Taehyung. He puts his shoes on and insists that Taehyung ensure Jimin is well-rested for the remainder of the weekend. It’s out of love; all three of them know this. That doesn’t make it any less amusing to Jimin and irritating to Taehyung.

Taehyung takes good care of Jimin, bad boy reputation or not.

“How was your heat?” Taehyung asks quietly after bidding Seokjin goodbye.

“Awful,” Jimin admits with a sniffle. “I wish I could take suppressants so I’d never have one ever again.”

Heats spent alone without a partner are usually miserable. Unfortunately for Jimin, he doesn’t have a partner, and he has always suffered side effects from being on suppressants. He is particularly plagued by terrible migraines and increased blood pressure, both ailments that negatively impact his career. Since his heats take up so much time, he has to plan his job around them, which is why Seokjin is so bent out of shape over Taehyung prematurely leaking their album news while Jimin is still recovering from the week.

“I’m sorry. I wish you didn’t have to deal with heats either,” Taehyung says with a pout, “Not getting to hang out with you for a week fucking sucks. Though I’m glad you called me this time.”

“We are never talking about that.”

“I think we should.”

Jimin glares at Taehyung’s boxy grin and the evil glint in his eyes. 

During most heats, Jimin hides his phone from himself so he doesn’t do anything stupid while his brain is foggy and sex-crazed. Seokjin or Hoseok, Jimin’s former bandmate, check on him at least once a day to bring him food and ensure he isn’t wasting away, so it really isn’t a concern to not have access to his phone.

This time, though, Jimin couldn’t bear to part with his connection to the outside world — his connection to Taehyung — even though he knew he should.

“Taehyung-ah, I miss you sooo much,” Taehyung’s naturally deep voice takes on a higher pitch meant to imitate Jimin.

“Stop it! Stop it right now!”

“I wish you were here, Taehyungie!” 

“Shut up!” Jimin nearly shrieks with what little energy he has while Taehyung cackles as he gathers the blankets from the couch to carry them down the hall to Jimin’s bedroom. 

Jimin doesn’t know why he reached out to Taehyung during his heat. In the two years they’ve known each other, Jimin has never done something like that – in his entire life, he has never reached out to someone during his heat. He doesn’t even want to think about what that means. 

“Don’t worry, Jiminie,” Taehyung bumps his shoulder with Jimin’s as he passes him in the hall, “I wish I could make you feel better.”

Jimin doesn’t know if Taehyung understands how his words sound to an omega fresh off his heat. They sit heavy on Jimin’s chest, quickening his heartbeat and making him pause for a moment, fingertips pressed to the wall to steady himself when he has to take a deep breath. As an alpha, there are many ways Taehyung could make Jimin feel better during his heat.

Not that that even matters. Jimin and Taehyung are friends, and friends don’t help each other through their heats. Everyone knows that. Jimin must have called Taehyung because he genuinely missed him and knew Taehyung could comfort him; that's all. 

Shoving his muddled thoughts into the back of his mind, Jimin follows Taehyung to his bedroom and takes the lead once they’ve dealt with the blankets. 

It would be embarrassing for Jimin to have an alpha who isn’t his mate in his bedroom at the end of his heat, but, as in many cases, Taehyung is the exception. He follows closely behind Jimin, stepping over dirty clothes and granola bar wrappers strewn about the floor, only stopping when he reaches Jimin’s bed. Jimin thinks Taehyung looks sweet with his hands clasped behind his back as he rocks on the balls of his feet, respectfully waiting to be let into the messy nest Jimin has created in his bed out of blankets, pillows, and clothes.

“You can sit with me,” Jimin offers with a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes because he’s sleepy and a little sad, though he doesn’t know why.

“I’m gross.”

“Shower first, then sit with me.

Jimin sorts through the items arranged in a misshaped circle in his bed, eventually untangling a pair of loose cotton pajama pants and a baggy t-shirt from the pile. He has to resist the urge to lift the clothes to his face and bury his nose in them until he breathes their scent so deeply that it alters his DNA.

“Here.” Jimin tosses the clothing to Taehyung, who catches the bundle with one hand.

“Jimin-ah! I’ve been looking for these!” Taehyung complains as he slips out of the bedroom to retrieve a towel from the linen closet in the hall. 

Probably half a dozen more stolen t-shirts are wrapped up in Jimin’s little nest, all of them Taehyung’s. Nothing calms Jimin’s omega quite like Taehyung’s scent. It’s not weird because it makes sense. They’re best friends. If someone’s best friend doesn’t comfort them, are they really best friends? 

The bathroom is an ensuite, so Jimin can see Taehyung through the door from where he sits on his bed. He fondly watches Taehyung wiggle his butt as he skips through playlists until he finds the right one to sing along to in the shower, and Jimin decides that it wouldn’t make sense if Taehyung didn’t bring him such comfort.

The rap playlist Taehyung picks isn’t a surprise, but his silk shirt balled up and thrown in Jimin’s face is. 

“Tae!”

“You were gonna ask for it anyway,” Taehyung smirks as he reaches behind his neck to unclasp his chains. “And don’t act like you weren’t ‘cause you definitely were.” 

Refusing to respond to such an annoying allegation, Jimin rolls his eyes and waves Taehyung away. It isn’t until Taehyung closes the bathroom door that Jimin allows himself to slowly exhale. 

Perhaps Jimin has used Taehyung’s clothing to help him through his heat in more ways than just basking in his comforting scent. But that is because of hormones and biology, and nothing more. 

When Taehyung returns from the shower, he smells like vanilla. Call Jimin conceited, but he only buys vanilla-scented hygiene products to match his own vanilla scent. His excuse is that he’d prefer not to muddle his own scent with whatever scented soaps he uses, though he could solve that problem by buying unscented items like most people do. That doesn’t seem fun, though, and Jimin would prefer to enjoy life rather than sterilize it.

Lately, sleepovers with Taehyung have become a common occurrence. Preferring to shower before bed, Taehyung often walks out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, smelling like vanilla. Perhaps Jimin buys vanilla body wash, shampoo, and conditioner because he likes his scent on Taehyung.

Perhaps.

It’s a comfort thing, Jimin thinks as Taehyung crawls into his nest of blankets, sheets, and clothes. It’s a comfort thing and nothing more.

Despite typically staying up much later, the aftereffects of his heat make Jimin sleepy. He lies back on his many pillows. Like always, Taehyung follows his lead, tied together by their red string of fate — if Jimin believed in such things.

“All these clothes and stuff are clean, right?”

“I wouldn’t invite you in here if they weren’t, you sicko,” Jimin snaps with a smack to Taehyung’s arm, but all Taehyung does is grin like the little shit he is.

“Just making sure.”

It’s embarrassing, but not as much as it should be. Most alphas can’t handle heat talk; they act like it’s gross or oversexualize it—there’s rarely an in-between. Taehyung is different, though. Heats and ruts are normal, just like every other bodily function and hormonal instinct. Taehyung treats them as such.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Jimin asks as he lifts his arm to let Taehyung snuggle against him to rest his cheek on his chest despite Taehyung’s damp hair wetting his shirt. “Does Bibi have another concert?”

“I’m hanging out with you. Did you already forget Seokjin hyung’s lecture?”

“Just because he said that doesn’t mean you have to listen to him…” Jimin points out with a shrug.

Taehyung is quiet. He drapes one arm over Jimin’s torso so he can reach the hem of his t-shirt. He plays with the inner seam for a while, picking at the stitches and making his fingertips brush against Jimin’s skin. The light touches make Jimin shiver, his body already hypersensitive from the hormonal overload he suffered through for the past week. He wishes his body wouldn’t react so strongly to something so innocent.

“You know I love kickin’ it with you, Chim.”

Taehyung’s voice is too soft, too low. He twists the hem of Jimin’s shirt around his long fingers and doesn’t say more.

“Okay…” Jimin nods even though Taehyung isn’t looking at him.

He can feel himself grow warm from Taehyung’s body heat and each brush of their skin, no matter how short or light. Hormones ruin everything. Jimin hates being ruled by them, even if only for a week every few months.

“Not gonna say it back?”

Whatever unusual softness that had overcome Taehyung is gone in an instant, a cheeky tone replacing what had been too gentle for Jimin’s sanity. Taehyung rolls over so he’s no longer lying on Jimin, allowing the poor omega to finally breathe.

“Go to bed,” Jimin is desperate to pull himself out of the heated bubble Taehyung has somehow created around them. He kicks away his blankets and turns on his side, giving Taehyung his back. “It’s late.”

“It’s not even midnight.”

“I’m tired.”

With a snort, Taehyung ruffles Jimin’s hair. He’s probably trying to be annoying, but it feels like a caress rather than a mussing to Jimin. Long fingers slip through his dyed strands, flopping them from side to side. It feels nice, even if Taehyung is being silly.

Jimin keeps his eyes closed, even when the bed creaks. He feels the mattress dip behind him and Taehyung’s warm breath fan across the curve of his ear.

“Night, Sleeping Beauty,” Taehyung murmurs so deeply that it rouses an ache in Jimin’s stomach. “Set an alarm, okay? We’re getting breakfast in the morning. Don’t make me have to wake you up with true love’s kiss.”

“You don’t brush your teeth first thing in the morning,” Jimin mumbles back and tries to swallow the anxiety-induced bile creeping up his throat. “Don’t put your lips anywhere near me.”

Taehyung pauses for a moment, just long enough for Jimin to hear and feel air rush from his nostrils. It’s the quiet laugh Taehyung is known for, one that’s almost mocking and makes Jimin feel both adored and humiliated when directed at him.

“Sweet dreams, Chim.”

The bed dips and creaks, and the blankets rustle. Jimin holds his breath until Taehyung is settled, then exhales quietly through his nose until he can tell Taehyung has fallen asleep.

Most nights, when Taehyung sleeps over, Jimin lies awake with a restless mind and an even more restless body. It has been two years now, but Jimin still can't meditate away the heart palpitations Taehyung gives him. Some nights, he wonders if his heart would still race if he and Taehyung were both omegas. On other nights, like tonight, he turns to face Taehyung, and wonders when his innocent thoughts about his best friend turned into a burning desire to know if his lips feel as soft as they look.

Hormones, Jimin’s mind whispers. His heart reminds him that Taehyung sleeps over more often than Jimin’s heats come.

Every night Taehyung stays over, including tonight, Jimin waits for sleep to sweep such thoughts into the ocean of his mind, losing them beneath the waves until they inevitably resurface with each new tsunami of emotions.

-

The cafe Taehyung and Jimin visit in Seorae Village is one of Taehyung’s favorites. It’s a little cafe squeezed between two larger establishments, an art gallery on one side and an ornamental furniture store on the other. Taehyung spends so much time in the French neighborhood that Jimin is surprised he isn’t fluent yet, though he doesn’t miss the opportunity to impress Jimin with his casual French speaking skills as he requests a table for two at the cafe’s outdoor patio. 

“It’s so nice out,” Taehyung says, turning his face to the sky like a sunflower seeking the sun, "We should take advantage of the weather. You need a little sun, Chim, after being inside for a week.” 

It’s embarrassing to allude to his heat out in the open, even if no one knows what they’re discussing. Jimin quickly looks at the waitress, who guides them out the side door leading to the patio. She doesn’t pay him any mind, likely because she’s staring at Taehyung in awe. Whether she’s admiring his good looks or she’s starstruck, Jimin can’t tell. It irritates him regardless. 

The cafe’s patio borders the sidewalk in front of the cafe, separated by a short, decorative iron fence. The location is perfect for people-watching but too public for Jimin’s liking.

“Can we get a table in the corner there?” Jimin gestures to an empty table further away from the sidewalk’s edge.

Most of the patio tables are occupied; being away from the most populated side of the patio would make Jimin feel better. It isn’t that he never goes out in public, and he doesn’t worry much about going out without someone on his staff, but it still feels strange. All it takes is one cocky sasaeng to ruin what could be a relaxing opportunity to spend time with his best friend.

The waitress finally addresses Jimin when she squints at him. Her irritation is uncalled for, and Jimin is taken aback by how openly snappy she is with him.

“I’m sorry, but those tables—”

“We need to sit over there,” Taehyung interrupts the waitress in a steady and unforgiving tone.

Taehyung isn’t mean when he stands between the waitress and Jimin, but his scent spikes enough to make Jimin’s skin tingle when he inhales. If there’s one thing Taehyung is known for beyond his artistry, it’s his expressiveness. Such a quality has gotten him into more trouble than Jimin even knows.

Jimin can’t tell what the waitress is. She’s likely a beta or wearing scent blockers. Despite being petite, she holds her ground against Taehyung, even as she wordlessly beckons them toward the table Jimin wants. Outside appearances are never as reliable as scent when determining sub-genders, so Jimin tries not to make assumptions. Although he isn’t ashamed of his own status as an omega, he isn’t fond of people making assumptions about him just because he’s somewhat short. Hardly short! Very average, actually. It isn’t Jimin’s fault that he is surrounded by tall people.

“You’re being a bully today,” Jimin remarks once they’re seated. He lifts his eyes from the cardstock menu in his hands to see Taehyung grinning across the table.

“I’m an angel.”

“Hmm…”

Taehyung folds his forearms on the table and cocks his head to the side. His sunglasses are pushed on top of his head, forcing his bangs away from his face and making them stick out like a mane. He’s cute like this, all angular and bright, honey-tan skin glowing in the mid-morning sun. Meanwhile, Jimin is sure he looks like a pathetically pale dumpling. Not that it matters. Friends shouldn’t care about how each other looks.

Looking back down at the menu, Jimin picks at the corner edge and lets his eyes glaze over the nonsensical French. Despite being well-traveled and adventure-loving, he doesn’t know what most of these items are. Europe wasn’t usually on dreamscape’s tour schedules, and Jimin still hasn’t done his own world tour yet.

Jimin is just about to ask Taehyung to put him out of his misery and order something for him when Taehyung’s sudden question interrupts his thoughts.

“Are you mad at me?” Taehyung asks, a half-smirk punctuating the question. If Jimin is mad at him, he doesn’t seem exceptionally apologetic.

“No…” Jimin straightens in his chair and clasps his hands between his thighs to hold them in place. If he keeps fidgeting, he might go crazy. “Why? What did you do?”

With a shake of his head, Taehyung laughs, something airy and pretty that makes Jimin feel like he could do well to lighten up a bit, too.

“What haven’t I done?”

“Taehyung.”

“Alright,” Taehyung takes a sip of water and waves away the waitress when she approaches the table. “I thought you would’ve been upset that I spoiled our album.”

“I wasn’t mad…”

Scent spiking with something sweet, like bourbon and honey, Taehyung leans back in his chair and crosses his arms behind his head.

“I knew it. You’re pissed.”

Jimin rolls his eyes. Taehyung is so dramatic, a true celebrity, and a typical alpha. He weasels his way into things, and suddenly, everything is about him. The worst part is that Jimin always falls for it, forever a supporting actor to Taehyung’s main character.

The interview wasn’t as bad as Seokjin makes it out to be. Jimin remembers cuddling in his bed halfway through his heat with his phone rotated and propped against one of his many pillows. He could have watched Taehyung’s interview on the TV, but his body had ached too much to sit up straight. Watching the interview helped his mood a little. It was something to pass the time while Jimin struggled to fall asleep, and he’d been genuinely curious about what had made Seokjin so pissy. 

Sitting through interviews is difficult for Taehyung. Whereas Jimin thrives under the spotlight, immediately unfurling the social butterfly often cocooned inside him when he isn’t making public appearances, Taehyung struggles to keep his interest. If the questions are boring, he’s likely to skirt over them or provide answers Yoongi will scold him for later.

Taehyung’s fans enjoy the interviews, even when he gives them very little to work with. Jimin supposes fans’ opinions are all that really matter.

The interview took a hard left turn when the interviewer suddenly asked, “So, V, we heard a rumor that you’re working on a joint album with Jimin. Is that true?” 

A small smirk lifted one corner of Taehyung’s mouth, and he exhaled with a quiet, short laugh just barely caught by the mic clipped to the lapel of his black leather jacket before he simply stated, “It is.” 

By that reaction, Jimin knew that the rest of the interview would go downhill. Their entertainment companies had meticulously planned their album announcement and preview as part of their pre-order campaign. Taehyung effectively fucked up months of planning in a matter of two words.

“I was annoyed but unsurprised,” Jimin stares hard at Taehyung’s cocky expression. “Seokjin hyung said he nearly threw his phone at the TV when he got the call from our producers saying that you were yapping away.”

“The interview questions were leading.”

“You’ve done a million interviews, Tae. You know how to handle tricky questions when they try to back you into a corner,” Jimin rebukes.

Taehyung just shrugs.

“I’m not an idol, Chim. I don’t have extensive PR training like you.” The wide-eyed, puppy look Taehyung pulls is a mousetrap Jimin willingly flings himself into without considering why.

“What? You are an idol, Taehyung!” Jimin whispers harshly, now leaning forward with his fingers curled around the edge of the table. They shouldn’t be talking about this publicly; the other cafe patrons could easily record them and do damage much worse than Taehyung’s loose lips in interviews.

“I am not. I’m a rapper.”

“So would you say that Hobi hyung isn’t a rapper because he’s an idol?” Jimin challenges. 

“All squares are rectangles, but not all rectangles are squares.” 

“What the fuck does that even mean?” 

Shrugging, Taehyung’s eyes sparkle and remain on Jimin even when the waitress returns to their table. He gives her their food orders, mercifully choosing something for both of them and never once looks away from Jimin’s face.

“Why were you unsurprised? About me spoiling the album?” Taehyung changes the topic once the waitress leaves, and Jimin lets him because he lets Taehyung get away with everything.

“Have you met yourself?” Jimin snorts.

“I’m sorry.” The apology is cheeky and ingenuine but still as charming as anything that comes from Taehyung’s mouth.

“I’m sure you are,” Jimin grumbles between taking sips of water to give himself something to do.

Unease has crept into his bones, eating through his marrow like termites in wood, ever since he called Taehyung during his heat. It was out of character for Jimin and laced with connotations he still doesn’t want to consider. Yet here he is, staring at Taehyung with sleepy eyes and a wandering mind, just to watch how his pretty lips shape his name. It seems that even if he’s unwilling to consider what his strange behaviors mean, they aren’t going to disappear.

“Jimin-ah.”

Blinking, Jimin sets down his glass of water and runs the long sleeve of his sweatshirt over his mouth. “Y-Yeah? What did you say?”

“I asked if you’re excited,” Taehyung pouts from being ignored, “We’ve been working on this album for ages.”

Jimin’s excitement is unfathomable. Joint albums are uncommon, especially between a K-pop idol and a Korean rapper. It took them a year to complete the album — faster than Jimin had expected. It helped that they surprisingly work well together. Where Jimin is an executor, Taehyung is an innovator. Taehyung’s creative energy is boundless, but he needs Jimin to reel him in when he takes off too high in the clouds. Jimin can work a to-do list like no tomorrow, but Taehyung makes sure he sleeps at normal hours and eats regularly. Where one of them lacks, the other nurtures. Jimin doesn’t mind. He quite enjoys grabbing Taehyung by the coattails to yank him back in the right direction, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy being doted on — but only sometimes, of course.

It’s the hormones, probably.

After collaborating on “Love Song,” Jimin and Taehyung played around with the idea of working together on an even bigger project. For Jimin, he’d felt something electric, sparking every frayed nerve in his body, galvanizing him in a way nothing has for a very long time. Not only was working with Taehyung exciting, but Jimin was finally stepping out of the strict rules he’d had to follow under dreamscape — rules that prevented him from showcasing the mature side of himself that his producers deemed inappropriate for Jimin’s fanbase — as if his fanbase isn’t full of adults at this point in his career.

“Are you excited?” Jimin asks with a cheeky smile to match Taehyung’s. They both giggle, and nothing more needs to be said. They’re asking each other stupid questions; of course, they’re excited.

“What is it like working with Jimin? The two of you have had such great success together in the past, obviously, ‘Love Song’ winning a Grammy for Best Pop Duo last year,” the interviewer had asked in what Seokjin now calls “Spoiler Gate.”

“Jimin is fucking amazing,” Taehyung had responded.

The grin he flashed at the camera was boxy and lopsided, so different from the cocky expression he often puts on during interviews. Millions of people had already watched the interview by the time Jimin did. Jimin still feels like Taehyung's smile had been for him.

“Honestly, he’s the reason this album will come out on time. I’m good at ideas, but I can’t commit to anything. I’ll rewrite the lyrics and rearrange song orders. It took me weeks to get my verse for ‘Love Song’ to him because I kept doing it over. Eventually, Jimin was like, ‘If you don’t send me what you have, I’m going to ask Bibi to do it instead.’”

“He threatened you!” 

“He fucking did,” Taehyung had laughed, soft and low.

“Bibi on the track would have been a much different song, wouldn’t it have?”

“Ah, Hyungseo is cool. She’s way more knowledgeable about pop music than me, so the vibe of the song would have shifted.”

“Fans, particularly Jimin's fans, were pretty shocked by the explicit version of ‘Love Song.’” 

The cocky look returned when Taehyung confirmed, “Our album is going to be worse.”

-

On Monday, Seokjin insists on taking one of the chauffeured company cars to meet with the music video director, citing the benefits of traveling inconspicuously. Jimin knows Seokjin just doesn’t feel like driving. Either way, Jimin doesn’t mind. The travel time is minimal, and Jimin’s private Twitter account provides him with enough entertainment for the ride. One tweet in particular catches his eye, mainly because Hoseok brings it to his attention through an abrupt text message:

Hobi hyung 🌞 Jim Jam! How was your brunch date yesterday?? Jimin ??? My what Hobi hyung 🌞 [screenshot]

“JIMIN spotted with V leaving a cafe in Seorae Village,” the tweet reads. It boasts a candid and surprisingly high-quality paparazzi photo of Jimin and Taehyung at the little French cafe they went to for breakfast the day before. 

In the photo, Taehyung stands beside Jimin, who sits at one of the cafe’s outdoor patio tables. From the angle, it looks like Taehyung is leaning into Jimin’s face with one hand pressed against the table and the other curled around Jimin’s shoulder. Jimin cringes at how terrible he looks. Still drowsy, he hadn’t bothered to dress fashionably and instead pulled on a lazy outfit of an oversized sweatshirt and baggy jeans despite the warm spring weather. Complete with a beanie that hid his cotton candy blue hair and face mask, he thought he’d looked inconspicuous. 

Regardless of Jimin’s outfit, it’s obvious that Taehyung was the reason anyone spotted them. He didn’t bother hiding his appearance at all. His striking visuals are enough to make anyone stop to watch him walk down the street, and his short-sleeve t-shirt exposed the recognizable tattoos that decorate both his arms and creep across his collarbones.

The Twitter account is verified, but Jimin can tell it’s a fan account rather than a news outlet or saesang-run paparazzi account. This account is dedicated to providing updates on the dreamscape members. Despite how annoying it is to live in constant surveillance, it warms Jimin’s heart to see dreamscape fans, dreamers, still showing their love for the group. Their love is emphasized by the tweet’s many replies. Curious, Jimin scrolls through the commentary. He expects to find sweet messages from dreamers wishing him a healthy day or asking questions about his album with Taehyung. Instead, what he finds makes his chest feel tight.

“VMIN CRUMBS I AM LIVING,” one Twitter account shouts at Jimin with more exclamation marks than he can count. Another account below asks, “is this them soft launching their relationship?? taehyung i need answers.”

Lightly holding the base of his throat, Jimin takes a deep breath and quickly scans the other comments, finding much of the same. Both his and Taehyung’s fans keep referencing a term Jimin isn’t sure he’s heard before.

“Hyung, what’s a soft launch?” 

Seokjin looks up from his phone to frown at Jimin. Admittedly, it’s a weird question, especially to ask without providing context. Jimin isn’t interested in providing context, though. He even twists slightly in his seat to limit the likelihood that Seokjin might see the tweet opened on his phone from where he sits in the backseat with Jimin.

“A soft launch is when a company releases its product to a limited audience rather than the greater public. Remember when dreamscape released the mobile game to select Dreamers before it was made available to everyone? I believe it’s to minimize damage if things go wrong in the early stages,” Seokjin resumes, idly scrolling through his phone, “Hoseok would know more about that stuff. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, nothing,” Jimin says with a bright, close-mouthed smile that puffs his cheeks.

Seokjin puts down his phone again and eyes him suspiciously. “Park Jimin, why do I have a bad feeling about you right now?”

This is what Jimin gets for spending little time on social media. He doesn’t even know why he felt compelled to look at Twitter today. The Buzzfeed episode recording may have something to do with this spontaneous decision, though perusing social media has always been Taehyung’s pastime. Jimin prefers to watch Netflix or play mobile games. Unfortunately, he forgot his headphones and doesn't want to bother Seokjin, who is already cranky from the anticipation of dealing with Yoongi and Taehyung simultaneously.

Clearly, everything has backfired.

“I saw something about soft launching a relationship, but I just didn't really know what that meant.” 

It isn’t a lie, though Jimin isn’t above lying about most things. Being an idol provides few opportunities to enjoy a normal life if a few lies aren’t told when needed.

“Ugh, the youth,” Seokjin grumbles with a wave of his phone at Jimin. “It’s a cesspool, the internet. They’re co-opting words and turning them into phrases that don’t make sense! How do you soft launch a relationship? You’re either dating, or you’re not. Humans aren’t products to be tentatively unveiled.”

“Dating?” Heat creeps up Jimin’s neck and spreads across his cheeks. He slides his hand from the base of his throat to press against his sternum. Neither hold is comforting enough to self-soothe. 

Why would their fans think Jimin and Taehyung are dating? All they did was go out to eat, something they’ve done publicly a handful of times before. From the tone of the Twitter accounts, it seems to Jimin that fans have had suspicions about his relationship with Taehyung for quite some time.

Jimin That’s really weird… Hobi hyung 🌞 Is it? 🤗🤩 You didn’t answer my question!! 🤔

Frowning, Jimin slips his phone into his pocket and turns toward the side of the car to look out the window, where no alarming conspiracies about himself lie, waiting to assault his mind.

Considering how many dating scandals Taehyung has had, perhaps their fans’ speculations aren’t wholly unwarranted.

Still, Jimin finds it all very strange. He can’t shake the thoughts muddling his brain, even when their car arrives at the corporate office of Kim Namjoon, one of the finest film directors in the Korean music industry. Jimin trails behind Seokjin, thankful he is willing to take over as they navigate the building’s lobby and shuffle into an elevator with Namjoon, who comes down to greet them personally.

“Jimin, it’s nice to see you again. How long has it been? Since dreamscape’s last comeback, I believe?” Namjoon’s handshake is warm like his eyes and fresh peony scent, and Jimin realizes he needs to stop floating along with his head in the clouds and get his Chelsea boots flat on the ground.

“I think so,” Jimin hopes his smile is just as warm as the fellow omega’s. He doesn’t mean to be aloof, but he hasn’t slept well the past few days. Like most things, it’s Taehyung’s fault.

“Are Taehyung and Yoongi here already?” Seokjin asks, and he doesn’t hide his disdain when Namjoon confirms that the other two men arrived a few minutes before Jimin and Seokjin did.

Although Jimin’s livelihood relies on Seokjin and Yoongi getting along, it’s a bit amusing to watch them snap at each other like an old married couple. With his odd mood, Jimin supposes a bit of entertainment could do him some good.

“I appreciate you coming down to my office. I know we covered a lot of ground with outlining and sketches over our video calls, but I think a final rundown before production is necessary to do in person,” Namjoon explains while he holds open the door to a small conference room on the twentieth floor for Jimin and Seokjin.

Namjoon is right; Jimin wouldn’t feel comfortable recording the music video without discussing it in person. Call him an old-school luddite, but Jimin isn’t particularly fond of technology, anyway.

Taehyung and Yoongi sit inside the conference room on one side of a long, rectangular table. It seems they’ve been deep in conversation, though Yoongi immediately stops talking once Seokjin enters the room. If Jimin thought Seokjin’s earlier look of irritation was over the top, the deep frown on Yoongi’s expression is laughable.

Rather than be polite, Yoongi and Seokjin give each other curt nods and don’t bother with proper greetings. Taehyung watches Jimin with bright eyes and a boxy grin, so Jimin pays little attention to whatever their snotty hyungs are doing.

“Hi, Tae,” Jimin greets, fingers twisting the sleeve of Seokjin’s buttoned dress shirt to pull him toward the opposite side of the table.

“Hi, Chim,” Taehyung beams as Jimin slips into the chair across the table from him. “You look well-rested.”

It’s hardly a compliment, more so an acknowledgment that Jimin is staying healthy, but he feels his face heat up with a blush anyway. Silly, Jimin ducks his head and mumbles, “I may have slept in too late this morning,” to which Taehyung laughs.

Jimin wonders what his fans see in Taehyung. The Taehyung that the public receives is so different than the Taehyung that Jimin spends time with. He wonders if his fans would still assume he and Taehyung are dating if they knew what they were like in private.

“So, we can approach this in a couple different ways.”

Namjoon gestures to the front of the room, where a large, flat-screen TV is mounted to the wall. His tablet’s screen is shown on the TV, and he clicks through various sketches and notes that Jimin recognizes as storyboard drafts.

“It’s my professional opinion,” Namjoon continues once he’s found the image he was looking for, “That we keep the choreography.”

“What?” Yoongi rests his forearms on the conference table and leans forward, his thin gold chain sliding across the surface like coins against metal. “I thought we established that Taehyung won’t be doing any dancing.”

Seokjin lets out a long sigh and rolls his head and eyes toward Namjoon to avoid looking at the other side of the table. In their last meeting, Yoongi made it clear that Taehyung would not do choreography in his music videos — or ever, if Yoongi had any say. Which, as Taehyung’s manager, he does, whether Seokjin likes it or not. The argument was that Taehyung has a particular image to maintain as a rapper, especially as an alpha rapper. Rappers don’t dance. Alpha rappers definitely don’t dance.

Jimin isn’t offended by Yoongi’s prejudiced mindset about sub-gender roles and art choices. He just thinks Yoongi is dumb, especially when his thick, oppressive alpha scent clouds the room from his frustration. Sometimes, Yoongi behaves like a stereotypical alpha, inconsiderate about keeping himself in check. Jimin is positive that he could never have a manager who wasn’t an omega or beta.

“Yes, but the song lends itself to choreo, particularly since we can’t shoot anything overtly about the subject of the song,” Namjoon finishes with a shrug.

“Because Jimin is so innocent,” Yoongi accuses.

“Excuse me,” Seokjin jabs his index finger at Yoongi, “The hip-hop scene may be full of grotesque misogyny, but I will not have Jimin in a music video with half-naked women engaging in various kinks just because Taehyung’s verse references fucking someone tied to a goddamn bedpost.”

Smug, Taehyung presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek and smirks as he gently rocks side to side in his swivel office chair. When he notices Jimin looking at him, he winks.

Jimin isn’t one to become overwhelmed, but he desperately wants to change the topic.

“If Taehyung doesn’t want to do choreo, that’s fine. Like Namjoon hyung said, there are plenty of creative routes we can take with this,” Jimin insists with an awkward laugh. He runs his fingers through his cotton candy blue hair and avoids Taehyung’s gaze.

“Actually, I’d be down.”

“You what?” Yoongi twists in his chair to stare at Taehyung, whose smug attitude hasn’t slackened.

“It’s just dancing. It can’t be that hard, right?”

Taehyung is sorely mistaken.

Series Masterlist

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie).

#vmin #taehyung x jimin #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #vmin smut #vmin angst #vmin fluff #vmin fanfic #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #love song

[foxs0x]

I’m so used to drawing Dragonborn now that it took me 10 minutes to doodle him (his name is Cillian!) but I tried to draw Astarion and it took me 3 fuckin’ hours

Anyway here’s a mini non linear sneak peak of a continuation of “Sweet Sister My Slaughterkin”

As I mentioned in a previous post I have not planned anything for this! I just have a vague head canon that Durge journals and sketches to try and remember things, so I’m going with it.

This is set after the reunion party and he is at Candlekeep with Astarion researching Bhaalspawn, while Astarion researches vampirism.

Cillian’s journaling is not a pleasant experience and he wishes not to remember certain things about his past, and about the atrocities he has committed. But he feels it is a way to take accountability and atone. He feels he must face these things, no matter how sickening. It is probably not the healthiest way for him to manage his feelings but he can’t help it. It’s a compulsion to want to know every dirty detail.

The Absolute crisis and rejecting Bhaal is just the beginning of his atonement. He is feeling a lot of grief and depression. He is disassociated with a lot of it like he is looking through someone else’s eyes, but that doesn’t make it less shocking.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanart #dark urge #the dark urge #bg3 durge #durge #fanfiction #bhaal #bhaal lore #chosen of bhaal #bhaalspawn tav #temple of bhaal #bhaalspawn #bg3 bhaalspawn #baldur’s gate 3 dark urge #the dark urge bg3 #bg3 dark urge #orin the red #the dark urge x astarion #durge x astarion #durgestarion #dragonborn durge #dragonborn dark urge #astarion x durge #astarion ancunin #astarion fanart #bg3 astarion

[inumbrapugnabimus-maybe]

remember this guy? I finally found a design for him I really like :D

More designs, a poll, and also some lore under the cut

Some less polished, alternate versions :)

if you like the brown leather armor more than blue lemme know

ok so here are a few things!

First, he’s very colorful now! This is because he’s a member of the nobility, and, being rich, he can afford color! It’s also kinda an unofficial sign of status.

he honestly doesn’t wear it for this reason, although he’s aware of what bright colors imply (to an extent). He just really likes colors XD

second, most everyone has long hair in this culture. Shorter hair is a sign of, well, slavery (which is, sadly, a thing; it’s been recently made illegal but the law is not well enforced… for reasons)

men wear their hair down and women typically cover theirs. It doesn’t need to be fully covered, although richer women usually prefer this.

I totally didn’t make all this up bc I wanted to give all my guy characters long hair XD

someday I’ll get around to posting actual official character posts or smth but for now I can’t even decide this poor kid’s name…

I could use some help so here are some ideas I’ve got

(if you wanna know more abt what kind of names I’m looking for, look below the poll)

ok sooo

I’m looking for something old and potentially Celtic? But I honestly don’t love any of these… none of them quite fit…

this guy is very joyful and bright, a bit goofy and very determined to keep everyone’s spirits up. He’s definitely a bit idealistic and naive, and he’s kinda a free spirit! He finds the world beautiful and wonderful, and kindaaa ignores flaws a bit too much. One of the key things he has to learn during the story is responsibility and duty.

So if anyone has a name that evokes that (zero pressure lol) I would be endlessly grateful

a random fact about my story: no matter what happens, I am determined to find a way to include mountain lions.

#If you can’t tell he is my fav character and I love him very much #Okayyyy here we go #my art #art #doodles #character design #original character #oc #ocs #evie’s ocs #evie rambles #evie’s ben #Imma have to change that tag if I find him a name #Also pls ignore the weirdness of the way he’s holding the bow #I should have used a ref but it was a doodle that spiraled out of control #And by the time I tried to fix his entire pose would have looked awful if I shifted his arms XD #Oh help #sorry abt the crazy infodump and goodbyeee

[balletfilmss]

BUT DADDY, I LOVE HIM!

✸ pairing: jason grace x daughter of poseidon! reader

✸ synopsis: no, you’re not coming to your senses. even if it’s your father who’s telling you to

✸ warnings: none!

✸ notes: writing’s so weird…like it took me weeks to do my last work & i cranked this out in TWENTY minutes

idea from this post by @percabething!!

“what?”

“you heard me, yn,” said your father firmly, ready for you to take your leave and quit bothering.

as if you were the issue here. you’d been minding your own damn business when he just appeared at the lakefront, disturbing your date planning.

your boyfriend would be here any minute, and here poseidon was suddenly deciding to parent. and not only to parent, but to have the audacity to try and tell you who you could and couldn’t date, trying to slam the door on your whole world.

“this doesn’t make any sense!” you protested. “jason and i have been together for months, why is it now a problem?”

“i was hoping that your little summer fling would die out, but it seems that you’re persistent with this one,” your father said.

this one? as if you’d dated more than one other boy before him.

“now, like i said, it’s time for you to stop entertaining this relationship with zeus’s boy. i know you don’t think so, but i’m looking out for you. think about what this could do to your name! end it already, yn.”

at that, he began to walk back towards the water, trampling over your beautiful picnic spread and narrowly missing crushing your basket.

you ran after him, the sides of your unbuttoned cardigan blowing in the summer breeze as you followed him into the water, willing your dress to stay dry as you cried out, “my name? i don’t care about what it could do! jason’s the one i want, dad, you can’t do this!”

poseidon stopped in his tracks, turning to you. “i am the god of the seas and your father, yn, i can do whatever it is that i please. so do enlighten me, why, may i ask, do you think i can’t do this?”

before you could even think to stop yourself, you shouted the words at him,

“because, dad, i love him!”

at the confession, something in your father’s stormy blue eyes seemed to clear up. his face softened as he looked at you for a moment, wondering how the little girl he remembered had gotten so old in such little time.

you began to grow antsy at the silence that followed your words, suddenly aware of the swishing of the lake against your calves as time seemed to still.

finally, poseidon sighed, “very well then.”

you perked up immediately, eyes bright as you squealed, “really?!”

the god nodded his head, though hesitantly and said, “yes. make sure he doesn’t make me regret it. and make sure he knows that.”

your father pointed over your shoulder, his tone suddenly shifted from how it’d been just about three minutes ago. you turned to find jason standing on the bank of the lake with colored cheeks and his hands behind his back, waiting for you to return and not wanting to interrupt your discussion with your father.

from the look on his face, he had definitely heard you.

blood rushed to your face as you realized that your first “i love you” for your boyfriend had been screamed at your father, of all people. when you turned back to your dad, he was gone with the waves.

tilting your head back as you dramatically rolled your eyes at the theatrics, you tentatively spun back round to look at jason, a sheepish smile on your face.

without missing a beat, he joined you in the water, splashing up to his ankles and sending water flying everywhere as he giddily made his way to you.

immediately upon arrival, he placed both hands on your face and pulled you in, catching your lips in a hasty kiss he’d been waiting to give you ever since he accidentally overheard your conversation.

you pressed your lips against his as your head swam as much as the creatures in the water below, winding your arms around his neck and pressing your body flush against his.

when you only separated because of lack of oxygen, neither of you strayed far.

“you heard me?” you asked with a breathe, forehead pressed against jason’s.

he was wearing what might’ve been the widest grin you’d ever seen.

“i did,” he said, pushing a tendril of hair behind your ear. “and i love you too.”

smiling hard, you pushed your lips against his once more.

#୨୧ love letters #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace x reader #jason grace x fem!reader #jason grace oneshot #jason grace imagine #jasongrace #jason grace #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus #hoo #hoo x you #hoo x reader #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #hoo fandom

[flowersdiceandlove]

Last night I wasn’t feeling good, so my mom—my wonderful, amazing mom who I love and am so lucky to have—offered to read some of Heaven Official’s Blessing to me. I’d just finished book 6 and hadn’t started 7, so she read the first chapter of book 7 to me. She has fun doing it. She reread about the first half of book 1 and a chapter here and there in the others volumes in the past, so this wasn’t the first time she’s done this. She’s unused to the Chinese names, and so I have to remind her who the characters are. Here is an incomplete list of how I remind her of the characters.

Xie Lian = the main character (luckily she knows this one by now)

Hua Cheng = the love interest (she got him mixed up with mu qing last night for some reason. Normally I don’t have to remind her)

Mu Qing = the sarcastic/condescending one

Feng Xin = the angry one

Pei Ming = he’s flirtatious (and with only that two word explanation of him, she read his line perfectly. Exactly how I imagined it)

When Fu Yao and Nan Feng were in it, I used Mu Qing and Feng Xin’s explanations respectively.

She messes up the pronunciation, but has finally remembered (at least most of the time) that “x” makes a “sh” sound and “q” a “tch” sound. She also has endless trouble with the gege = guh guh wanting to pronounce it jee jee. She also often says Xian Lian instead of Xie Lian and just can’t quite get Hua Cheng right. She really is trying though.

Also, also when it was revealed what the “giant” in the Kiln was, she was so shocked and her expression alone caused me to laugh for several minutes.

And, before you ask, yes, she likes HuaLian.

Two more things. 1) she absolutely loves the tremendous masculinity/Ju Yang euphemism, and it has become something I bring up to make her laugh. 2) she always forgets the word “fuck” is used in the books. Every. Single. Time. No matter how many times she reads it.

This post has not been intended as a roast to my mom. She’s amazing , and I love it when she reads this to me. It’s a little way we can spend time together and she can enjoy my interests with me. If anything this is me bragging about her awesomeness, sprinkled with comedy. Anyway, wish my mom luck on learning those Chinese names. They really are hard for her to learn. 😬🫤

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #tian guan ci fu #hua cheng #xie lian #hualian #feng xin #mu qing #pei ming #reading tgcf

[bullet-prooflove]

Right Place, Right Time - Nick Torres x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @brownskinbaby22 @kgkslgohogkdlslgk @divergent146 @delightfulbelieverwerewolf @kotlclover2021 @lapricot @stxrryswvrld @whateversomethingbruh

References to Where Evil Grew and Companion piece to Red Rag

You’re working alone in the basement when Nick finds you. It’s gone past eight pm and you’re standing in front of the large glass workspace you sometimes use as a conference table, sorting through decades old, blurry crime scene photographs. You’re trying to match them against the half assed A1 crime scene sketch that you’ve blown up for the occasion.

The case you’re working is from 92 and requires a lot more time and attention than you originally thought because of the shoddy work undertaken by the previous agents.

You’ve stayed late tonight because it’s quieter in the evenings, less interruptions. Being the Senior Field Agent means you’re a conduit of information for the younger agents trying to make their bones down here. It can be both time consuming and frustrating.

“I thought you were out on an op tonight?” You murmur, tilting the picture in your hands 45 degrees to the right in the hope that it will make more sense.

“About to head out.” He says, his palms coming to rest upon the surface of the table as he studies your process. There’s an art to what you do, how you put the pieces of a puzzle together after so long. You have an affinity for it.

“You slept with Sawyer.” He states quietly.

It takes a second for the words to filter through to your brain, your eyebrows furrow into a frown before you set the glossy image down upon the table.

“I did.” You tell him tipping your head up to meet his gaze.

“Is that all you’re going to say?” He asks you, shrugging his shoulders.

“I’m not sure what you want me to say.” You return, your hands coming to rest upon your hips. “It was over a year ago, we bumped into each other at a bar, had a few drinks…”

You don’t need to say anything else because he knows how it goes. He’s done it before, many times. His brain just can’t comprehend the fact you did it with Sawyer, that he’s only hearing about it now.

“I’m not going to apologise for a one night stand I had, before you and I were even a thing.” You inform him, your attention straying back to your work.

“I don’t expect an apology. I just…” He says tilting his head away as he struggles to find the words. “We were close back then I don’t understand …”

“Do you remember what was going on around then?” You ask him, your knuckles rapping lightly on the glass. He takes a beat, his mind scrolling back eighteen months.

“Katy.” He says softly.

“Yea.” You murmur. “It was a couple of nights after you closed her case.”

Your sister Katy had disappeared off base when you’d recieved your first posting with NCIS. She had taken after your father, heading into the service, raising through the ranks. You’d worked that case unofficially day and night and when you came up dry just like everybody else, you’d become the girl whose sister vanished into thin air. You couldn’t take the pitying looks, the sympathetic words so you’d taken the first undercover assignment that was offered to you, and then the next one, and then the next because becoming someone else was a lot easier than dealing with your reality.

That’s how the two of you met, working UC operations together. When he’d come out of deep cover, you’d been the first one he contacted. You’d gotten out a year earlier, been assigned to Violent Crimes before you made the move to Cold Cases.

Katy’s body had been found early last year along with those of three other sailors. Nick had worked the case, along with the rest of his team. He had been the one to break the news. Until then you had held out this hope, this stupid fragile hope that she’d had enough of the navy life, that she’d spirited herself away to Nashville the way she’d talked about when she was a teenager.

“She had this amazing voice,” You had told him that night, your fingertips tracing over a polaroid you kept on the fridge. “She used to sing Alison Krauss all the time.”

The news had decimated you, it felt like someone had plunged their hands into your chest and torn your heart right out. They’d caught the guy, a serial who’d been operating in the area at the time, but your sister was gone, and you had to come to terms with that.

“I needed to blow off some steam.” You tell him honestly. “With someone who wasn’t complicated.”

“We were complicated.” He says knowingly, coming to lean on the work surface beside of you.

Eighteen months ago he’d been trying to get sober, starting therapy. Gibbs had just left for Alaska, Bishop not long before. He’d experienced too much loss in such a short space of time, it had knocked him off balance.

“We were.” You agree. “I was a mess, I couldn’t…”

You trail off before finding the words, your arm brushing against his.

“I didn’t have anything left to give,” You explain before gesturing between the two of you. “And we deserved a proper shot.”

“Wrong place, wrong time.” He says, capturing your hand, his fingers entwining with yours. “I’d like to think we’re in the right one now.”

“Yea.” You say, your cheek coming to rest on his bicep. “I think so too.”

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#nick torres #nick torres x you #nick torres x reader #ncis

[hotmessmaxpress]

Today during the podium celebrations with the VR46 team I thought "damn it must be hard for Luca to see that from P17 and a different team" and then I thought "they should have sex about it".

So here's some Bezz/Luca

🏍️

Luca knew that the transition with Honda would be a challenge. He wasn’t stupid; Vale may hate him, but Marc Marquez is one of the best riders in the history of the sport. If he couldn’t tame the bike, Luca isn’t arrogant enough to assume he’d be able to get on it and succeed immediately. 

He hadn’t expected it to be this bad, though. 

P17, only because everyone below him had DNF’d. The most consistent thing about the bike seems to be riding it into last place. 

Bezz is on the podium. A triumphant P3, behind Pecco and Marquez. Luca can hear the celebrating and cheering as he goes through his post-race motions. He’s not next door to Bezz anymore– no matter how much he wants to appear in his box and wrap him up in a prosecco-soaked hug, he can’t. He’s a Honda rider now; he has team debrief and responsibilities. 

He keeps himself cool and professional as always, giving practical feedback and reaffirming his confidence in the team’s ability to turn things around. He’s exhausted by the time he’s finally done with his responsibilities, and he can tell by the noise level that the celebrations have made their way from Bezz and Pecco’s respective boxes to some other location. 

He checks his phone and finds a drunken flurry of texts from Bezz, and suddenly the emotion of everything hits at once.

He knows Honda was the right move. He knows in his bones that it was right for him to move on, out of Vale’s shadow and into a team that he can make his own. 

That doesn’t make it easy. VR46 was home; the team were an extension of his family. Hell, Uccio has known Vale longer than Luca has been alive. Everyone involved with the team was comfortable and warm and loved him. 

Luca tells himself that he can love Honda but also miss his family. It’s like moving away from your childhood town to work in a big city, he thinks. 

He misses Bezz like a limb. He wants desperately to celebrate with Bezz, to feel his face tucked into his neck the way he does when he’s so happy. He misses the sound of his laugh and the little gap between his teeth when he smiles. He wants to dig his hand into Bezz’s hair and rub his head like he’s a puppy. 

Bezz facetimes him when he’s back at the hotel. Luca debates about answering, too busy allowing himself an evening to wallow before he wakes up and heads back to the track for testing in the morning. 

When he does answer, he’s surprised to find that Bezz isn’t at a bar. He also doesn’t appear to be drunk, in the way Luca expected. He wonders if Vale’s presence looming over the team made them a little more cautious with the partying the night before a testing day. 

Bezz is in his own hotel room.

“Luca,” he whines. “You didn’t tell me I did a good job.”

That startles a laugh out of Luca. 

“I’m sorry. Good job,” Luca obliges. Bezz huffs, and Luca smiles at the pout on his face.

“I don’t like that you don’t tell me after races now. Although I guess I haven’t been doing a good job this season until today,” he rambles. 

Luca laughs again.

“You’ve been doing great, Bezz.” That he himself is the one who hasn’t been doing great is left unsaid. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you every race, now. I’ll have to remember to text you.”

Bezz shakes his head. 

“No, I want you to tell me in person.”

“You left,” Luca says feebly. “Before I was done with Honda.”

Bezz seems even more annoyed by that, and Luca gets the feeling that everything he’s said so far is wrong. 

“What is your hotel number?”

Luca laughs, but then he sees Bezz is serious, 

“Bezz, it’s late. We have testing tomorrow.”

“I don’t care,” he argues. “I just want to see you. Please? I got a podium today and I want to see you.”

Longing squeezes Luca’s chest and he quietly gives Bezz his room number. Bezz hangs up and appears five minutes later at Luca’s door. Luca lets him in, and he barely has the door closed before Bezz has wrapped himself around Luca and tucked his face into his neck. 

Luca relaxes into the hug, happy to have Bezz in his arms. He missed him so dearly. It hasn’t even been that long; only a few months of racing on different teams. It feels like they’ve been separated for a lifetime.

If Luca really thinks about it, this is the first time they’ve been alone together since they both raced on the same team. Since announcing he was riding for Honda and changing his training routine, he had seen Bezz mostly with the other academy riders. 

Neither of them are in a hurry to let go.

Luca is the first to pull away, but only to force Bezz to kick his shoes off and climb onto the bed with him. Bezz seems happy with that plan, and he grabs the television remote before pushing and pulling Luca into a position that he’s happy with. Then he flops down on top of Luca. 

Luca’s heart is racing at the feeling of Bezz’s body on top of his, even as Bezz finds some Spanish show with English subtitles that he knows neither of them have the brainpower to follow. 

Bezz seems content to tuck his face into Luca’s neck, and Luca can’t help but smile.

“Bezz?” he asks. 

Bezz sits up. Their faces are too close, but neither of them move apart.

“You did a good job today,” he breathes, unable to take his eyes away from Bezz’s. 

Bezz grins, toothy and happy, then he leans up, pressing on Luca’s chest hard enough to knock the breath out of him, and presses his lips to Luca’s mouth. 

Luca pushes back against Bezz, taking the weight off of his chest, and he rolls Bezz so he’s laying on his back. He leans over Bezz, bracketing him with his arms, and continues kissing him. He’s not entirely sure where this came from; why Bezz decided to do this now. 

He can’t say he’s never gotten the impression that Bezz could be interested in him; they used to spend hours and hours together, and there were many times that felt like they came close to something. 

Apparently all it took was one Bezz podium for them to finally overcome their hesitations. 

Bezz tastes and smells amazing, and now that Luca has experienced it he’s not sure he will ever be able to let him go. He sucks a mark on Bezz’s neck, and bites at his collarbone. 

He thinks of their matching scars. 

“Luca,” Bezz groans. 

Luca smiles against Bezz’s neck. 

“Yeah?”

Bezz rolls his hips up, demanding attention, and Luca tuts.

“Impatient,” he teases.

“I got a trophy today,” Bezz whines. “I deserve an award.”

Luca laughs and kisses him. 

“You deserve the world,” he says. It’s corny but he means it, and judging by Bezz’s grin he understands. 

Luca decides it’s imperative that he immediately get his hands on Bezz. He sits up to tug at Bezz’s clothes, and there’s an awkward few moments of shuffling and laughing as they both manage to get out of their clothes. They’re both out of breath and laughing, and Bezz basically tackles Luca onto his back on the bed. 

He straddles Luca, and Luca pulls him down to kiss him. Bezz wiggles happily on his lap and Luca laughs into the kiss, teeth knocking together. 

Bezz presses his face against Luca’s cheek, and they both laugh. 

Luca reaches down, wrapping a hand around Bezz’s cock. It startles a choked moan out of the smaller man, and Luca grins in satisfaction. 

Luca knows they won’t have sex tonight; not with a lack of lube and with the responsibility of an entire day of testing tomorrow. Still, his brain is dominated by desire to make Bezz come. 

The angle is off, but he spits in his hand and starts pumping Bezz’s cock while he uses his other hand to tug Bezz’s mouth back to his. 

Bezz adjusts his position, and Luca is able to take his own cock in hand with Bezz’s. The feeling of rutting against Bezz, breathing into his mouth, smelling him around him, is nearly enough to make Luca come immediately. 

He manages to hold off for a bit longer, but neither he nor Bezz last long. Soon they’re both spilling over Luca’s hand, gasping into each other’s mouths. 

Bezz immediately starts laughing, and collapses to the side. Luca wipes his hand on his chest, catching his breath and joining Bezz in his giggles.

“Let’s shower and sleep,” he suggests. 

Bezz whines but allows Luca to tug him into the bathroom. Luca delights in soaping Bezz up, running his hands across his body and lapping water from his collarbones. He loves the way Bezz laughs, and they spend too much time messing around in the shower.

When they finally get out and dry off, they tangle themselves together back in bed. 

Bezz lays down and holds his arms out, and Luca lays down on top of him, face pressed into his neck. 

“I’m proud of you,” he mumbles into Bezz’s neck. 

“Thank you,” Bezz breathes, running a hand through his hair. 

They drift into easy sleep together soon after.

#marco bezzecchi #luca marini #what is their ship name? #mb72 #lm10

[stagefoot]

Stage manager: This is going to sound weird.

Me: Okaaaaay… 😅

SM: You know the cue we changed yesterday? I dreamt that we should change it back.

Me: I am so here for this 🤩

#(he was also the LD) #I can’t remember if I posted about it here or not #but I was once scrabbling with a minor lighting thing #like nothing major but a puzzle I wanted to solve for my own knowledge #and I dreamt of the solution #and it worked! #techblr #my life #stage manager

[endermagpieart]

What do you mean I’m a bit late for Janus’ big day? Of course not, how could you say such a thing! I definitely didn’t forget all about it in my absence and only get reminded in the incorrect quotes video live chat; that’s not like me at all ;]

Anyways I decided to dress our sassy snake in some different outfits I think he’d like. He seems like the type to get all dolled up on his birthday and it goes with Thomas posting pics in outfits inspired by the sides on their appreciation days!

@thatsthat24

#sanders sides #janus sanders #ts janus #thomas sanders #sanders sides fanart #my hoard #I’ve returned! #the newest asides came out and I remembered how much I love it #so I’m hyperfixated again and I’ve not now peace since #it is nice to actually finish something again tho #I’ve been pretty busy working lately and now I’m starting to pack to move into my first apartment! #so not much time to really sit down and draw #and when I do have time I can’t get the motivation to actually draw anything #I want to get better about posting stuff on here #(even though it feels like I’m just dreaming into the void a lot) #even just silly little things or rough sketches I’ll never finish #I hope it’ll help me continue to draw and make things again #I forgot how nice it is #anyways if you’ve read this far thanks #have a cookie :] 🍪

[tariah23]

oooooo white people in my replies really saying ‘I can excuse racism but I draw the line at homophobia’

Not surprised since this is the site that only talks about racism and thinks it’s a big deal when they see it demonstrated in the cartoons and comics they like *coughs* dungeonmeshi *coughs* (for example at least. I haven’t seen THIS many white ppl talk as in depth about racism on here as much as these fandom nerds, man. I stg. Like “Ohhhh, so you all DO acknowledge that racism is real? Just not in real life even if you could feel it slapping you in the face at high speed. Gotcha.” It’s crazy.

Tumblr is like, 90% white and is extremely centered around them. That’s why you barely see stuff that’s important to black and brown people ever trending here or being talked about. It has to be something incredibly huge to the point where even white people can’t ignore it like they usually do, to talk about it here.

They only talked about George Floyd here because the topic of his death became world news. Even people in other countries were talking about it. Before him, it was probably Ferguson and Trayvon Martin… most of them are still trying their best to ignore the genocides because it’s a “touchy subject.” What do you expect from white people who live in their own bubbles of comfort and refuse to pop it with a needle??? They find comfort in their privilege and faux ignorance (they love playing stupid to avoid conversations about important things outside of fandoms like, are these mfs born with half a brain dedicated to fandom or what.) That’s literally all these mfs make a big deal out of, especially on this annoying ass platform. The ao3 mfs will go to war for the site that allows racist ff and cp like it’s no big deal. I wonder how many people here even donated to the site while actively scrolling past dono posts from folks who really do need help. They act like they’re doing a civil service by defending this site that makes over the amount of it’s intended dono goal in minutes.

Then you already know as soon as you even bring up racism in the stuff they like, they start ganging up and harassing black bloggers especially, calling them TERFs and the whole nine. Anything to make that person look bad for being concerned about the racism that they have such an intense aversion to. God, it’s absolutely exhausting knowing that these people would have no problem choosing a cartoon character over your entire existence if they COULD. Isn’t that fucking sad, man?

#:( #it’s like what can you do #as a black person I get why sm black bloggers here have ‘don’t follow me if you’re white’ in their bios #they’ll call it racist or whatever (it’s fucking not you guys just treat black ppl like shit here and most of us feel unsafe to interact #with y’all. you guys always turn on us at the drop of a hat) #i remember commenting on a HS post funny enough years ago #because the punchline of the post was literally the white mfs saying nigga #and I was so annoyed that I told them off and one of my white mutuals unfollowed meanjsjsjsl #like right after that #and another unfollowed me because I talk about racism and the like a lot like this is a really well known artist too so I was like 🧍🏾‍♀️? #because I talk about racism a lot??? it’s weird lol #like they’ll tolerate you for a while then when they feel offended they start to act weird and act like you’re not supposed to talk about #the stuff that effects you #tkf replies #karmelarts #they don’t give a shit about anything if it doesn’t personally Involve them #they act like they can’t relate to anyone or anything it they aren’t marginalized themselves (being gay or trans which they treat as a #personality trait) #notice how you never see movies/ shows about black and brown ppl trending here? it’s always white centered shit no #matter how hot and popular that show might be #you’ll never see something like the wire snowfall or power trending here #all of the black ppl are on twitter anyway so #sm black ppl got ran off of here by annoying white ppl

[aoiveaeart]

Medusa AU

A story where Adora is a greek Princess cursed to become a gorgon for the rest of her live, making her live hidden and in fear, and Catra is a blind magicat sent as a sacrifice by her village to ‘save’ them from the gods’ fury. They end up falling in love until a jealous goddess returns Catra sight as a curse and Adora, afraid of hurting her, sends her away. Catra tries to take her sight with her own hands so they can be together but the gods take pity on them and reunite them again 🤍

#catradora #my art #fanart #illustration #shera #greek myth retellings #greek mythology #myths #mythology #gorgon #medusa #medusa au #Catra #adora #i can’t remember if I posted this one already but here it goes again #such a good au #i should draw more about them #maybe i will #“Bombastic side eye #gotta be Greek and gay

[rum-and-shattered-dreams]

After looking at so much information and so many peoples’ personal experiences regarding autism (and factoring in my own experiences), I think it isn’t control that we want. So many things talk about how we need to control our schedules and environments and so on but I think it’s actually about freedom. It’s about choice and autonomy. We need freedom from other people’s control - Freedom from their expectations, schedules, and influences over environmental circumstances. We need the choice to have a quiet space or headphones for the music we want to listen to or the choice to do things when we want to or to wear what we want or whether to make eye contact or not or to say that we can’t do something right now because we’re already overwhelmed or to leave a room or to focus on something or to stim or to have emotional reactions or non-emotional ones or to say we don’t want to be touched right now or that we do actually want a hug right now and so on.

It’s not that we’re square pegs trying to control the round hole until it’s square. It’s that we know we don’t fit there so we want to choose to be where we do fit instead of having someone shave off our edges because they insist we must fit where they want us to.

#actually autistic #thoughts on autism #mo’s ramblings and such #I can’t remember if I’ve posted this before or not #I’ve definitely written a bunch of drafts and things I haven’t shared about it #but here it is anyway

[delisocks]

i wonder if mike thought about kim ever. when jesse threw himself in front of walt in the desert, i wonder if he thought about kim. did he see her that night, the hoodie and the gun and the tearful determination, while they sat in the lab and waited for gus? did he see her in that junkyard, watching the laptop splinter into a million pieces, jumping and cheering?? two lost souls who gave Everything and got shattered in return??? one day you’ll wake up and realize you haven’t thought about it, but do you ever really? do you ever really forget? maybe you can’t, when you’re working for a time bomb. “what is it with you guys?” don’t know. i wonder if mike ever thought about kim.

#sorry about this 😔 could not sleep and decided to be incomprehensible on tumblr instead #i already said something along t these lines in the dms but i can’t get it out of my head #thought it would make more sense if i got it out into a post and Bravo!!! it Does Not. #but i rely on the assumption of everyone else here being just as deranged as i am #like. y’all know what i’m talking about right #i don’t think im going to remember posting this in the morning. goodnight now honk shoo #and also i stand by what is it with you guys as like #the golden rule of gilliganverse. could literally say the same thing about So Many guys it’s insane #“what is it with you guys” well. what Isn’t it with you guys really #brbabcs #mike ehrmantraut #kim wexler #jimmy mcgill #jesse pinkman #walter white

[dawllick]

Is there a ghoulcy discord????

I think I might wanna join

Just looking for general chat and discussing it (separate channels for RP is fine)

Also no minors allowed ofc

#vaultghoul #ghoulcy #someone posted one but I cannot find the post about it now also can’t remember if it was here or Twitter