#also if i see one more person say light isn’t funny enough to come up with this on his own i’m taking names

[yesimwriting]

Pulling Away

A/n did i write smut for once? yeah. also timeline wise is this perfectly accurate? it’s iffy,, but this fic isn’t about the plot too much so it’s okay

Summary: You’re not the only one that’s feeling a little territorial thanks to the influx of people you’re around in Jackson. 

warnings: 18+, implied age gap, no condom, a tiny bit manipulative if you squint, brief mention of losing virginity.

----

He’s not a force of nature, no matter how hard he might pretend to be for the sake of those around him. Joel can’t actually change anything. So the shift in temperature you feel as Joel stills has to be a byproduct of what’s in your head. 

The kind of burning cold that better fits a fever runs through you and you hate yourself for it. This isn’t the first time you’ve been delusional when it comes to him. 

You’re working off of a quarter of his face against low lighting. It doesn’t make sense for you to be able to feel so much from the little of him that you can see. It’s not anger. Or at least, not just that. There’s definitely a subdued rage radiating from him, but it’s undercut by something that punches you straight in the gut. 

Maybe you’re being a little unfair, but you have a right to it at this point. You can’t follow him around blindly like some kind of puppy forever. Especially now that you’re both settled enough to be able to think of things outside of pure survival.

“Ellie’s asleep.” A flat observation that you can’t explain. Maybe it’s the need to break the silence, or maybe it’s a genuine attempt at making things feel normal. You two should still be able to talk. You never wanted that to end. “Swore she wasn’t tired, but passed out as soon as her head touched the mattress.” 

Joel lets out a small sound from the back of his throat. It’s a spike in the atmosphere. “Think I’m gonna go to bed, too.” You don’t understand your awkwardness or the urge to create distance. It’s not like Joel would hurt you, but then again, the buzz of adrenaline doesn’t seem to be coming from a place of fear. It’s an uneasy burning that worsens when you raise your eyes enough to meet his. “Night.” 

The one word is a little better and somehow so much worse. Not aggressive or trying to make things better. It’s just there. Civil. 

When he says nothing, you take it as your sign to call it a night. Tomorrow could be better. Sure, your rocky dynamic might be going through growing pains while you set boundaries that should have been established long ago, but you’ll likely survive this. You’re all staying together in the same house in Jackson for the time being and you both care too much about Ellie to separate over something small. 

Even if Joel won’t directly admit to it, the part of your relationship that feels like co-parenting is sacred. That’s part of the reason why the feelings you’ve been fighting with yourself to dismantle are so complicated. He cares about Ellie more than he wants to admit and the last thing you need right now is to tear away the little stability she’s finally been given. Not over a few awkward conversations and stiff moments. 

The weird irony that vaguely reflects the issues of the world before isn’t lost on you. If someone were to squint at the situation, you’d seem like a wife trapped in a marriage for the sake of her children. Maybe if it was happening to someone else you’d have enough energy to find it funny. 

You turn carefully, like a too loud squeak of your shoes could be what snaps the thinning thread tying you two to a hint of casualness. You don’t need to pass him to get to where you’re sleeping. The three of you had been set up in a space that allowed for each person to have their own room. It’s like that in theory, but in practice it’s more like Ellie’s room, Joel’s room, and the spare. 

A comfortable enough bedroom that you’ve maybe spent the entire night alone in twice in the weeks you’ve been here. You can’t even pretend that you keep the few things you own in there either. Joel’s an even lighter traveler than you, so slowly your items made their way into the drawers in his room. Now, your room is basically just where you go to change into and out of sleepwear.

You’ll get used to it, used to the draft that originally led to you giving up on rocky sleep the first night you ended up sleeping next to Joel. Your dreams kept you up even more than the cold, but when Joel’s drowsy voice called out to you in the dark, asking why you were awake, you blamed the night’s chill. That’s how it first happened. 

It was a mistake you should have never let turn into habit. You’re correcting it now. Setting boundaries to prevent heartbreak. It’s only a matter of time considering the way the women here look at him.

“Since when do you sleep in there?”

His voice is so gruff it instinctually freezes you. Any sarcastic comment at the back of your throat vanishes immediately. The both of you are fully aware of how you end up each night, but it’s a boundary in itself not to mention it. You’re not sure if it’s more him or you, but what happens at night and early in the morning is never mentioned.

It’s a dip into another reality. A space where Joel’s a little lighter, almost more open. Sometimes he’ll drag your arm with him when he moves onto his side, a silent way of asking you to stay close. On the best nights, he’ll joke about it, letting your limbs meld together under a blanket and swear he’s just trying to keep you warm out of the kindness of his heart. 

His humor is the worst. The kind that some might justify as a result of years of it being at a stalemate for years considering the tragic state of the world, but you know better. They’re the kind of jokes that take a second to settle because of his general exterior, but are meant to be so dumb they force out a smile. In another life, the little comments are dad jokes.

The peace bleeds into the mornings now, he’ll keep the closeness and remind you that you don’t have to get up immediately by mumbling something about Ellie still being asleep. Like she’s the only thing significant enough to get you two to return to reality. 

You’re convinced that these moments exist because neither of you mention them. He’s crossing a line you didn’t realize meant so much to you and he’s being dramatic it, too. It’s not the rarest thing for you to ‘attempt’ to sleep in your own bed. Sure, you’re more likely to lay in that room for a few hours on nights where Ellie stays up a little later, but this isn’t the strangest thing you’ve done. 

He’s ripping any chance of returning to that separate world away from you. It stings more than it should. “Thought I’d give it a try,” you voice is too low, too defensive, “It’s not a big deal.” 

The defense sounds so weak in your own ears, you don’t even want to imagine what he took from it. “Bullshit.”

His voice comes out in such a low huff you feel it more than hear it. If the sound had felt any less dangerous, you would have pretended to mistake it for another wordless grunt. Your lips part slowly as your mind struggles to create any kind of logical response. 

Pretending is clearly getting you nowhere. The only reason you ever pretended it would was pure delusion. Joel has always been able to see through you, through any shift in mood. Even when your lies are better, his ability to sense them is uncanny. 

He turns with no warning. Joel crosses the space between you before you can even fully register his steps. Your body tenses as heat rushes to your face in result of an oddly charged parody of fight or flight. You almost step back, one heel shifting back, but then you meet his gaze and the determined glint behind his eye is enough to melt you into place. 

There’s something else there, too. A focus that pins you into place even further. Holds you there better than the barrel of a pistol could. 

The absurdity of the warmth rooted in your chest should be enough to make the feeling go away. It doesn’t, so you force your lips to part again. You need to say something. Anything. “Joel?” Not that. Not just his name in a voice that feels violently small. 

“You’re pullin’ away.” 

The accusation in his voice leaves no room for argument. You try anyways, “No.” The rest of your thoughts can’t come out while you’re looking at him at the same time. There’s shame in dropping your gaze to focus on your shoes and the little space between you. “It’s not like that.” 

Joel lets out a low sound. The creak of the floor as he steps forward again snaps you out of your trance. You step back in a desperate attempt to keep the space between the two of you equal. Your back hits the wall before you can come close to achieving your goal. It’s a knee jerk reaction that leaves your face feeling even warmer than before. A part of you expects Joel to laugh at the sound or at least comment on it. He doesn’t. He continues forward until his mouth is so close to your ear the warmth of his breath lingers when he exhales. 

He takes a second there, relishing in your stillness. “Don’t lie to me.” Joel pulls away just enough to look you in the eye. “You don’t want to talk to me, you’re talkin’ about leavin’.” The southern drawl of his voice is increasing with his frustration. It’s distracting in a way that feels too convenient. Like he’s doing this on purpose. 

You swallow once. “You found your brother. I have a sister out there, I’d--I think now that things are more settled with Ellie it wouldn’t be the worst thing for me to look for her.” 

“And you don’t want us goin’ with you, but you’re more than willing to let the guy that’s always lookin’ at you--” 

“Oh my god, is that what this is about?” You are insane. Of course his issue is who mentioned it. John knows travel, leaves Jackson and comes back in one piece when he needs to. He wouldn’t be the worst person to have with you if you did want to start a rudimentary search for your sister. “I didn’t make any plans with John, it just came up.” 

“You don’t want us goin’ with you.” 

Your throat feels dry. The thought of it makes you feel cold. You haven’t seen your sister in a few years and so much has changed. You’re no longer in the QZ and your sister has no way of knowing that. She can’t reach out if there’s trouble or good news and she has no reason to assume that you’re safe. You know where she lives, and if she’s not there, you know a few of her usual spots. She doesn’t typically stray too far from her bubble. It wouldn’t be a long trip, just long enough. 

Long enough to give you some space. Long enough to remember what it’s like to not be around Joel all the time. Long enough to feel less about him. 

And you’d come back. You wouldn’t just walk out of his life and Ellie’s forever. The little bit of space you’re trying to get would make it easier for you to stick around in the long run because it’s the only way you can think to get rid of the feelings that are trying to ruin everything. 

“We haven’t been here that long and Ellie’s finally starting to feel settled. I don’t want to drag her out of that yet and make her feel like her entire life is just going to be her being dragged around the country.” 

Your words are a jumble, rushed together in a way that makes the honesty of them less effective. It’s a good point. Ellie just called her room hers the other day and even asked about moving the bed against a different wall.

Joel lets out a low breath, eyes hardening. “You’re right. She’s settlin’ and she needs you.” He knows he’s hit his mark when you don’t respond. “How do you think she’s gonna take the news that you’re leaving?” 

“Leaving to visit my sister.” You struggle to swallow. “Temporarily. It’ll take less than two weeks.” 

His lips pull into a frown as his eyebrows together. Moody and brooding. The look you’ve openly referred to as his old man scowl. “With John.” 

Ugh. This again. Why does it matter? Yes, John will be there, but it’s not like it’s just you and John. Your sister isn’t that far and she has access to supplies that aren’t common, she has an understanding with people that have easy access to medical supplies. 

But even if it was just you and John, it doesn’t matter. There are a lot of areas in which you factor in Joel’s opinion, but this is definitely not one of them. You two aren’t together and with the way he does nothing to show any discontent when the girls here start to look at him, he definitely doesn’t need you keeping his bed warm at night. 

“If I go, he wouldn’t be the only one there.” The fact that you’re trying to justify John’s presence leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You’re a grown woman, free to associate with whoever you want. You might jokingly call him your old man from time to time, but he has no right. “And if even if he was, what does it matter?” 

His jaw locks and the downwards tilt of his chin erases the little bit of confidence you’ve managed to build. “You’ve seen the way that boy looks at you.”

You have to bite your tongue to avoid from blurting out that he’s also seen the way majority of the women you see on a daily basis look at him. Joel’s also exaggerating. John does not have any feelings for you, and if he did, it wouldn’t matter. It’s not like you see John as anything more than a friend. But even if you did--it is not his business. At all. 

“He doesn’t.” There’s little point in saying that, Joel’s not one to have his mind so easily swayed and he’s been wary of John since the beginning. Sometimes it even feels like the more you insist that he’s a good friend, the more Joel seems to dislike him. “And if he did, it doesn’t matter.” 

Your words feel like a retreat they shouldn’t need to be. Small, the meaning of the sentence compacted and straining against the limited syllables. A part of you expects Joel to understand what you do mean. That it doesn’t matter because it takes two interested parties to form any kind of relationship. That your mind isn’t even there in terms of feeling safe...that the only person who has ever made you feel safe enough to imagine anything beyond friendship is right in front of you. 

For the first time, Joel doesn’t pick up on the relevance of what isn’t said. You can feel his lack of understanding in the way he moves, placing one hand on the wall, near your head. You blink, trying in vain to explain the motion, explain his proximity. He’s caging you in. 

The heat of his body is practically inescapable, amplified by the way he smells. Joel showered a little earlier, his natural scent combining pleasantly with that of plain soap. After so many nights next to him, you would think you would have developed a tolerance. You haven’t. And even if you did, you doubt it’d matter...this is different. Dizzying. 

“Doesn’t matter?” 

He’s somehow even closer and somehow not touching you. The realization that that’s the worst part of this leaves your stomach fluttering. You need the feeling gone, so you force out the first words that come to mind, “It matters as much as all the girls that look at you like that.” 

It feels more bitter than it comes out, leaving a metallic taste on your tongue. You need out. You need space. You need sleep. Joel’s silence feels like opportunity, so as subtly as you can you try to shift away from the wall. Your back is off the wall for less than a second before you’re pushed back against it. 

Your body hits the wall before you can realize that Joel’s hand is on your hip. There’s too much surprise for that fact to settle, so you look up at him almost bewildered. You expect him to let go or at least look somewhat apologetic. He does the opposite, moving the hand on the wall under your jaw and closing the distance between you in a motion so quick you can barely register it. 

His mouth is on yours before your mind can catch up. It makes no difference to him. He’s rabid in his patience, taking what he wants without forcing your lips to part. His hand squeezes your hip and all at once it connects. You gasp and Joel pins you to the wall even more securely, deepening the kiss with an expert’s ease. 

It lasts until you can’t breathe and ends with his teeth grazing against your bottom lip as he pulls away. “All of this,” the words are exhaled lowly, “’Cause you’re jealous.” 

The kiss left you so light headed your first instinct is to just agree. To not think and do or say whatever you need to in order to get him that close again. But his tone is too sure, too teasing, and the implication isn’t something he can just get away with. “Jealous?” His smugness is hard to take with him holding you against the wall like this. It’s too vulnerable, like this might be some kind of game to him. It makes you feel transparent. Hollow. “Fuck whoever you want, I don’t care.” 

It’s like you’ve said nothing until Joel has the audacity to squeeze your hip. “Whoever I want?” His hand shifts up your hip, your shirt moving with him. “Hm.” His hum settles beneath your skin, effectively silencing you as his eyes take their time raking over your face and down your body. “Those were some big words from you.” 

Heat rushes to your face. It’s ridiculous--you curse more than that on a regular basis. He’s playing into context, too aware of what he’s doing. The urge to push burns twice as hard as buzzing in your chest. “They’re true. We’re not--we’re not anything, so if I want to go with--” 

“I’m not losin’ you.” There’s a desperation in there that comes out so hard it circles back to vulnerable. “You wanna go see your sister, we go see your sister. That’s how we got through everything else.” The hand on your hip moves down, his fingers dipping beneath the elastic waistband of your shorts. You hate yourself a little for the way your breath audibly catches. “Understand?” 

His hand lowers even further, long fingers pressing against the fabric of your underwear. You’re not breathing right and you can’t bring yourself to care. The only thing you can think of is closer. “Y-yes.” 

“’Yes’ what?” No sympathy in his voice or anything that would give away that he has a hand shoed down your pants. 

His touch picks up pace, rubbing against you until a whimper escapes your lips. “Yes, sir.”

Joel moves his hand away with no warning. The whine that escapes your lips doesn’t feel like your own. He’s barely touched you and you’re already like this. “Barely touched you and you’re already listening.” He hooks two fingers in between the band of your underwear. “Should’ve done this awhile again, then.” 

You’re burning all over, the only thing you can manage is a quick, “Shut up.” It lacks any bite. 

He pulls at the band of our underwear, letting it snap back into place. If you didn’t know any better, you’d consider the flash of something softer across his face as amusement. “If you want me to stop, you’ve gotta tell me.” 

Your nod feels desperate. Your entire body feels desperate. For the way he kissed you, the way he touched you. “I-I’ll tell you.” He’s still not moving, not doing anything. It’s some sort of punishment. It has to be. “Joel...” 

“You going to say ‘please’?” 

You have half a mind to tell him to fuck off, but then his fingers hook around your underwear again. A promise. “Please, Joel.” This is all unfamiliar but you trust Joel to get what you want, what you need. “Need you.” 

With no warning, he yanks down your shorts and underwear. They fall down your legs and you blindly kick them to the side. “Need me?” He tilts his head down, pressing an open mouthed kiss against your cheek, then two to your jaw. “Need me where, sweetheart?” 

God. Anywhere. Everywhere. Your desperation reminds you of how incredibly unfair it is that you’re already down to just our t-shirt and Joel’s still fully dressed. You move your hand slowly, carefully tugging at whatever piece of clothing on him you can reach. 

He’s unimpressed. “C’mon, use your big girl words.” His hand is in between your thighs, his fingers teasing at your entrance in a way that makes it impossible to focus on anything else. “You were usin’ them just fine a second ago.” 

“Joel,” he kisses your jaw again, forcing away all train of thought. It has to be intentional. “Joel,” again, too soft. 

“I know,” he exhales the words against your neck, “I know, sweetheart. Need me to take care of you.” Joel doesn’t wait for a reaction, just pushes his fingers fully into you. You gasp too loudly, Joel moves his free hand over your mouth. “Be a good girl and be quiet. Can’t wake up Ellie.” 

Shit. How did you not think of that? “You’ll be good and quiet for me? Let me stretch you out a bit first?” There’s a knot in your stomach that’s slowly taking over all of your senses. As long as Joel keeps working at it, you could promise him anything. You nod against the palm of his hand. 

You bite your tongue to keep from whimpering too loudly. “Need you to relax,” he presses into you even more firmly, “Get you ready for me.” 

He slowly eases his hand off of your face. “Joel, please.” You’re not even sure what you’re asking for, you just know you need more. You want him to consume you entirely. Feel him until he’s all there is.

You hear the sound of a belt buckle and his jeans shifting. Instinctually, you move a hand towards him, wanting to help, wanting to feel him. “There’ll be time for that, right now it’s about you.” You’re about to argue when he skillfully adds another finger. Fuck. “You’re tight,” he breathes, “No one’s ever touched you here?” 

His fingers curl inside of you and you have to burry your face into the fabric of his shirt to keep from crying out. “Only you.” 

“Look who’s found her manners.” He’s picking up the pace and smoothing down your hair as you squirm against him. “Should’ve done this sooner.” Just as the coil in your lower stomach tightens, Joel takes his hand back. 

You push yourself off of him, staring at him with an expression you know he’ll consider pouting. “Why’d you--” 

“Because I want you to remember this.” He pushes you back to the wall, pressing his body against you. The head of his cock brushes against your entrance. With no warning, he pushes into you. Your sharp gasp overlaps with Joel’s low groan. “Y’need a man to fuck the attitude out of you.” He moves slowly, the friction unbelievably overwhelming and somehow not enough. “That boy wouldn’t know what to do with you.” 

Joel presses you further into the wall, sinking into you as deep as possible before pulling out just to sink back in. His pace is even until his breathing picks up. You’re a mess against him, hiding your face in his chest when he starts fucking you with full force.

“You’re squeezing me so good.” Joel practically pants the words into your skin. “Fuck, ‘m going to--you gonna finish with me, sweetheart?” 

Your mind is mush, you can barely nod against him as his thrusts start to lose their focus. You’re pushed over the edge as Joel’s teeth graze against your neck. He pulls at your orgasm, dragging it along until your legs are jelly and he’s pulling out in order to not finish inside you. 

The two of you stay holding onto each other for what feels like a long time and not enough. “You’re not goin’ anywhere, okay?”

You pull your head off of him enough to look him in the eye. “Not without you.” 

He smiles, lines that you can imagine kissing forever etching themselves into his skin. “That’s my girl.” Joel runs a hand up and down your back fondly. “Let’s go to bed,” he presses a kiss against your jaw, “Give me the space to properly appreciate you.”

The thought makes your body burn all over again. “You sure you aren’t tired out, old man?” 

Joel huffs out what’s almost a laugh, “We’ll see who’s tiring who out, sweetheart.” 

#joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #tlou fanfic #tlou x reader #the last of us x reader #pedro pascal x reader

[orphic-musings]

The warmth was never yours to begin with

Characters: Alhaitham x gn!reader, slight Kaveh x gn!reader

Genre: Angst, hurt (only slight comfort?)

Warnings: Some swear words, bittersweet ending

Summary: Spending time as Alhaitham’s unofficial assistant, you’re bound to be affected by his unfairly beautiful appearance. But is his aloofness disinterest, or do you even stand a chance in the first place?

Notes: This was randomly in my drafts and I had never posted it? Sorry for going completely AWOL lolza. I have some requests in my inbox but I might turn off requesting because it’s so hard for me to write unless it’s one of those random moments when I just go off and I don’t want people to wait forever for a reply. I’ll try my best to get to some that have been already submitted! Also, I suck at titles ☠️

He never says much to you, but the fact that he allows you to nap in his office while he works, or to tirelessly ask him questions about every subject on Teyvat. Despite his exasperated sighs, he always answers. And sometimes you can catch small slips in his stoic demeanor. Like the soft smiles he graces you with every time you bring him a cup of tea.

The two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm after time. Most people around the Akademiya recognize your unofficial title of “the Scribe’s assistant”. Al-haitham gets your convenient assistance while you get to spend the day in his handsome presence.

“Here’s your ink refill!” You say, carefully placing the fresh bottle on his desk.

“I didn’t ask for-“ He trails off as he notices the near dry bottle he was about to dip his pen into. He gave a light chuckle, appreciating how you were sometimes more observant than him.

“Um, would you like to join me at the tavern tonight. There’s a special on drinks.” You teeter on the balls of your feet before his desk, a clumsy smile on your face.

“I can’t. My useless pest of a roomate is coming home tonight and he didn’t tell me what time. He’ll tear the place apart looking for a way in if I’m not there to unlock the door.” He doesn’t look up from his work, but he does pause to nearly snap his pen in half.

“It’s funny how you only speak passionately when it’s about the person you hate the most. Perhaps I should invite him for drinks instead, if only to get him out of your hair.” You give a cheeky smile, which he only catches with a quick glance, but he only replies with his signature scoff.

He carries on with his work, and it continues uninterrupted the rest of the day. You occupy yourself by either sitting and reading or tidying up here and there. As the end of the work day draws near, you see Haitham busy as always. You make your way to the door and turn to bid him farewell, but hesitation gets caught in your throat. You step outside his office.

On your way to the tavern you pass by his house, merely out of curiosity, and sure enough a rather frustrated blonde man is waiting outside.

“Well if it isn’t the genius architect!” You exclaim while walking up to him. His face lights up when he sees you, as if you’re his saviour.

“Ah the honorable assistant, to what do I owe the pleasure? It wouldn’t happen to be about the keys, perhaps?”

“Unfortunately no, Al-haitham’s in another work trance. But I have a better idea. There’s a drink special tonight at Lambad’s, my treat.”

He grins and pushes himself off the doorway to stand next to you.

“I’ll gladly take you up on that offer, but I insist I pay for my fair share. Since that numbskull scribe doesn’t pay you… I can’t believe how he mooches off us unfortunate paupers.” He motions dramatically as you both walk off towards the tavern. “I don’t understand why you act so starstuck with him, that leech.”

You give a small laugh and wave him off. “If it weren’t for your debts I would think you weren’t getting paid either.”

“Hey! That’s…” Kaveh turns away and pouts in lieu of finishing his sentence, earning a laugh from you. Your banter continues on into the night as the two of you share drinks and laughter. By the time most of the bar has cleared out, Kaveh is unsteady on his feet and his cheeks are aflush. You escort him home while he talks away the rest of his energy. With him practically draped over your shoulder, you knock loudly on the door. Your giddy smile falters as you see Al-haitham’s looming figure open the door. Tired eyes glare at the two of you, and while Kaveh is too inebriated to notice or care, you feel shame prickle your cheeks and a weight settle in your stomach.

As you shrug Kaveh off your shoulder you half expect Alhaitham to let him fall to the floor. Instead, he keeps him upright with an outstretched hand barely touching his shoulder. In a sharp motions he tugs the swaying man inside and pulls the door closed. Before it slams shut Kaveh nudges his foot in the frame, mumbling a “get home safe”, though the words got a bit jumbled. You were halfway through a smile and wave when Haitham slammed it fully shut.

Now standing in front of their house alone you feel the chill of night creeping up your back. You already miss Kaveh’s warm company, his exaggerated and dramatic ramblings. But mostly his eyes that listen even when his mouth is busy. They see your every movement, signs of discomfort and excitment. They see through you and hear all the words you’ll never speak. It’s moments like those where you can really see his genius.

Alhaitham is a cold man, but he is by no means emotionless, or even lacking in empathy. You just thought he had a great control over them, and was selective with what he showed. Maybe too selective. But now you find yourself dreading seeing him tomorrow, wishing instead the night with Kaveh would never end. In truth, you have no obligation to him, but showing up seems less daunting than having to confront him. The walk back to your home is an eternity. Every moment you’ve spent with him, where you knew you felt his hesitation. When his silence felt so loud, when he could not feel farther out of reach. You knew better. But to say you could’ve prevented feelings would be untrue.

»»————-　♡　-————««

Alhaitham is an asshole. But you told yourself he was an asshole that liked you, just to be near him.

You finished organizing all his papers before dawn. His office is cleaner than you’ve ever seen it, even after only being there for 40 minutes. Every single document, new and old, are organized alphabetically. There is tea ready to be made, he only needs to boil the water. It’s spotless, and the sweat rolling across your skin makes you proud. You did hard work, and a good job, and it shows.

You leave quietly, and still only the few desperate students roam the halls hurriedly, paying you no mind as you steal away. Part of you hopes he appreciates this, or even notices it, even though you know you shouldn’t care what he thinks. It hurts for you to realize it, to face this damn situation. Love is a curse and you can’t shake it no matter how painfully you wish you could. It’s a curse and it makes you want to cast one of your own upon him.

As your mind tries to think about what you’ll do next, where you’ll go, you take a deep breath. Calm down. The rapid pace of your heart slows, and the anger and shame that ran thick like ink in your veins dissipates. There is no one at fault here, no reason to be angry or to feel regret or shame. Feeling achingly human and vulnurable, you lean upon a balcony on treasures street. An icy breeze lingering from the night caresses your face while you watch the sun timidly rise. It radiates colour all across the sky with pastels like soft breaths from Celestia. As it moves higher more vivid colours follow, sparking life into all they touch. Beneath the brilliant rays the water glitters and all the plants and trees are splotched with gold. Finally you feel its soft warmth reach you, touching your skin gently, and your hearts soars. The sun reminds you that you aren’t alone, and that it will still be there rising every morning, and it will still kiss you when you feel alone.

Inhaling, you close your eyes, relishing in the pure bliss of the moment. When you exhale you open them again, and your heart feels light. It doesn’t matter where you go, you realize, because you will still have yourself, and the sun, and all the land it touches. You remember where you are suddenly, and you turn to look up at the Akademiya far above you. Alhaitham will likely be settling into his office now, and the image of his unfairly beautiful face still stings you a little. But it leaves you with no bitterness, not anymore.

#fanfic #x gn reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham #genshin impact kaveh #kaveh x reader #gi kaveh #gn reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x reader angst #alhaitham angst #orphic musings

[httpcarlossainzcom]

Idealizations Concerning Real Life Relations - cs55

here is part 2 to this mini series

warnings: i have very bad grammar (sorry not sorry….) also this is an 18+ fic minors do not interact!

summary: Carlos loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.

song inspiration: summers over interlude - drake and majid jordan, each time you fall in love - cigarettes after sex, from the dining table - harry styles

word count: 26k (sorry babes)

this is split up into multiple parts so dont worry :)

There’s something about Carlos that makes people drawn to him. He’s charming, enrapturing,  in every sense of the word. Makes people feel special. His laugh is infectious, loud and often more entertaining than the original joke when he does that thing where he claps his hands, or falls to his knees if it’s funny enough. Being around someone like that is refreshing. He’s captivating and easy to be around, easy to love. He’s such a bright light no matter where he goes, a beacon to those in his vicinity.

 And he’s so, so kind. To everyone that speaks to him. Even to those that don’t speak and just look, he offers a kind smile. When someone has his attention, they have it all, his big doe-eyes holding eye contact, nodding to let them know he’s listening and being attentive. He’s a good person. A little hard to understand, hard to get close to. So people say, so you’ve learned. But he’s good. Not much is known about stars, anyway. 

You’re watching him right now, always watching. You’re on another stained sofa in a different house than the one you usually went to with your knees pulled to your chest, a cup of beer resting on your knee. He’s chatting with someone, looks like the guy is showing him his tattoos. Carlos smiles, looks enthused, points to one that he must like based on his reaction. Then he’s holding up his own forearm, pointing to a small piece of ink, and then of course, he’s pointing at you.

Just before coming here, you and him had been at his tattoo shop. He drew the most beautiful, intricate little shooting star into your ribs. A little fireball attached to a long trail of stardust, smaller little twinkles falling off of it. It was simple clean line work, lines thin and dark. And then you drew two of the most basic five pointed stars on him, in a small blank space of his already existing sleeve. 

You warned him, told him you couldn’t draw a straight line with a ruler, let alone a heavy, vibrating tattoo gun. But he assured you he wanted it, that he needed to get that spot filled anyway. 

Though both stars are small, one is bigger than the other. 

‘This one is you,’ you had said, pointing to the larger star, ‘and this one is me,’ you continued, moving to point to the smaller one. 

‘Is it?’ Carlos had asked, a teasing smile gracing his mouth as he leaned into you. 

‘Yeah,’ you had breathed against his lips. 

Your soft kisses turned to soft touches, touches that transformed into soft moans. Right there in the parlor.

He’s talking louder now, getting excited. “Look how good her lines are! I didn’t even have to help her that much…” he goes on and on and you smile into your cup. 

It was actually a really shitty tattoo. Lopsided, with the points of the stars all different lengths. But hearing him praise you, express how much he actually likes it? It makes your heart burn, glowing bright pink in your chest. You get up and sonder over to him.

He smiles as he sees you, opens his arm up for you to tuck yourself into his side. His arm going over your shoulder, and yours going around his waist. You rest your empty hand on his tummy, can feel how it tenses as he laughs. 

“Ah, my little artist herself!” he says.

“That’s a stretch,” you deny, looking towards the guy across from you, “Alex right?”

He nods. “Yeah the one who has spent the last 5 years in school studying medicine and plants,” his voice holds a twinge of regret, a longing for life that isn’t run by tests and grading scales.

You laugh lightly. Ah, the botany guy. “Graduate program?” you ask.

He nods again.

You tap your fingers on Carlos’s stomach, trying to think of something else to say. “Oh! Do you know Charles? He’s not in the same plant… program or whatever but he’s doing a graduate program too.”

Alex smiles. “I don’t know him aside from the parties he shows up at sometimes, but I’ve heard of him around campus. Where is he by the way? You usually have him and Luiza with you when you show up here right?”

Your brow furrows as you take another sip of your drink, readjusting yourself so your back is against Carlos’s chest. He rests his hands on your hips, and cheekily pushes against your ass. You ignore him. “I actually don’t know? We haven’t hung out in a while…” you hum contemplatively while you play with your bottom lip. You look up at Carlos. “Do you know? Lando’s not here either.”

He shrugs, expression bored. “Lando said he has something to do tonight, maybe he’s finally eating Luiza’s pussy. And you know Charles hates these parties almost as much as you.”

You pout still, but Alex swiftly changes the subject.

“Anywho, you’re a tattoo artist now?” he tilts his drink in the direction of Carlos’s arm, his smile playful and knowing. “Must be pretty special to be able to get behind the gun and work on this one. He’s a snob.”

You’re about to deny it once again but Carlos interrupts you with a snort. “Obviously she’s special, we are special friends.”

Alex’s eyebrows raise and you laugh a little. Your eyes sparkle when you look up at the brunette behind you. “Are you drunk?”

He grumbles and wraps his arms around you tighter before mumbling into your neck. “No… not really, but I am horny,” he whispers.

You tut at him, scolding with a whisper, “I literally just jerked you off earlier.”

You’re swiftly ignored as he turns his attention back to Alex, “If you’ll excuse us, we have to put aquaphor on our tattoos.”

You send Alex an apologetic smile, but he just laughs, turning to head in the direction of the kitchen. 

Carlos’s hand is tight when it grips yours, a vice like hold as he drags you through the house. It’s at a frat this time, so the upstairs is lined with bedrooms. People are littered through the hall, and in the open bathroom you can see a girl cutting a line on the porcelain sink. The guy behind her holds her hair for her. A modern romance, like a scene from a movie. There are the stereotypical socks on door knobs, and thankfully the music is way too loud and the bass is boosting so you can’t hear what’s going on behind the doors. You almost run into Carlos’s back when he comes to a stop in front of a locked door void of any sock.

“Carlos,” you hiss, “we can’t just have sex in a random person’s room.”

He’s somehow procured a key and gets the door open. “Yes we can, but this isn’t someone random’s room, it’s ’s. He lets me use it sometimes.”

He doesn’t notice the slip of the tongue, once again, but it leaves an icky taste in your mouth. Thick and unpleasant on your tongue. But you know in due time the taste will change, into one of starlight, heady and intoxicating, and so wholly Carlos. 

“Lando goes to uni? I never see him on campus,” you wonder aloud tentatively taking a step through the threshold. It looks like a typical college boys room. A desk with a computer and school work scattered all over. A floor littered with shoes and clothes, along with a nightstand that has the lamp, the lotion bottle, and the kleenex box that sit on top of it. You laugh to yourself. Weird. 

“Mmm, he’s enrolled and goes just enough to not get kicked out so he can keep getting his student loans and living here,” he replies as he locks the door. 

Immediately he’s backing you into the bed, urging you to lay down. He stays close, lips on yours, hands hastily pushing your shirt up and over your head so your top half is bare under him. He pauses while straddling you, looks at you with hooded eyes, taking in the way your long hair fans out against the grey sheets of Lando’s bed. With eyes raking over your skin, his tongue peeks out to lick at his lips subconsciously as he fondles your tits.

“You’re so sexy, your body is so nice,” He pinches your nipples, making them pebble between his finger tips, “love the way you respond to me,” he purrs.

You make a soft embarrassed sound as you blush and bring your hands to your face to hide.

Like every time you try to hide from him, he pulls your hands away and gives you a sly yet sweet smile. He looks down at you, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Why do you still get so shy with me? Hmm?” With your hands in his, he brings them to his clothed torso, urging you to touch him. 

His mouth parts when you graze his nipples, and he breathes out a tiny, pleased laugh. “I get the same way for you, can’t you feel it?” He trails your hands down even farther, until they are rubbing against the bulge in his jeans. He sighs, head hanging back, letting you pleasure him for just a moment.

You go to undo his belt but he stops you. “Not yet,” he says as he swats your hand away. He kneels down, kisses and sucks at your collarbones, as he grinds softly into your lower belly, quiet little sighs sneaking out between his kisses. 

He’s slowly moving down your body until he gets to the new tattoo, fresh and vibrant against your skin, the edges still a little red. He gently runs a finger over it, before kissing next to it, all around it. “I love it, do you love it?” he murmurs, doe-eyes jumping between the ink and your face.

You run a hair through his brunette locks, brushing them out of his face. “Yeah, you did such a good job, thank you.”

He hums and you feel him smile into your ribs before making his way a little lower. You stop him by pulling at the hair you have a grip on.

“Wait, I wanna- you always take care of me…” you look at his cock. “Let me?” you ask.

He sits back up and regards you like he’s debating on letting you have your way with him before he huffs and shuffles off the bed. He stands at the edge and rids himself of his shoes and socks and you watch as you follow his example. 

Next he gets rid of his shirt. You take him in, admiring the lithe, trim cut of his small waist, how his jeans and belt rest on his hip bones, the lightest little fuzz of hair that travels down his lower belly. The very obvious hard on pushing against the zip. You crawl over and sit on the edge of the bed in front of him. He cradles your face and your eyes flutter shut at the touch.

“You wanna take care of me, my baby? Wanna make me feel good?” 

You nod as you take his arm into your hold, glancing at him through your lashes before pressing a sweet kiss next to the tattoo you gave him. He coos.

“C’mere,” he says, applying light pressure with the hand on your face.

Up close you can see the flush that has taken over his skin. He has little droplets of sweat forming at his hairline. It’s always so hot at these parties. Maybe it’s because you’re always with him when you attend. He’s always burning so bright, fiery hot. 

The hand on your face pinches your cheek sweetly, and now, your cheeks are warm too. He laughs a little before he kisses you. “I know just how you can make me feel good, pretty,” he says against your lips, biting quick and sharp.

He threads a hand in your hair at the back of your head and guides your mouth to his neck. “You can kiss me here,” he sighs, extending it so you have more room. “And here,” down to his collarbones.

You kiss and suckle softly at the bone that protrudes, and pull the thin skin between your teeth for just a second. You moan when Carlos hisses and the hold in your hair tightens. Pulling away, you look up at him. He looks down his nose at you, bites his lip before he smirks a little.

“You wanna mark me, don’t you? Was the tattoo not enough?” he answers the unspoken question swimming in your eyes, while simultaneously teasing. He’s acting cocky, but his voice is airy and has a bit more vibrato than normal, giving away how aroused he is. 

You nod eagerly. Of course you want to mark him, of course the tattoo wasn’t enough. Maybe you’re greedy, or maybe you’re just in love. But you don’t think it will ever be enough; a part of you will always yearn for more. He takes his time searching your face before he nods a single, short time. 

Carlos doesn’t usually let you mark him, and if he does, he’s usually particular about where. This fuels you, and you sink your teeth into his faintly sun kissed skin, rolling it between your teeth harshly, sucking until you’re sure that his skin has turned the color of the prettiest violet. 

When you lick at your work to help ease the ache, a moan gets caught in his throat. You rub your thighs together. His noises always get to you, always make your pussy weep inside of your panties. With his chest rising and falling rapidly, he pulls you off and pushes you back onto the bed, a little forcefully, but you don’t mind. He’s always been a little rough with you. Stars are known to be destructive from time to time. 

He crowds your space, taking a spot in between your open legs. Being sat on the bed, his abdomen is eye level, and he pulls you to his tummy when he twines both his hands in your hair again. You lick the center line off his abs before you kiss, wet and open mouthed.

“Yeah, kiss me there,” he moans. 

You peek up quickly, and see that his head is tilted back again, blissfully letting your mouth work over his skin. His hands in your hair massage at your scalp encouragingly. Gentle and subconscious with his movements. His abs tense and jump when you nibble at one of the bumps of muscle, and he pushes into you, eager, maybe a little desperate. Although he would never admit that. 

He holds you there, guiding you where he wants you till he’s pleased and backs away from the bed enough for you to have space on the floor when you drop to your knees.

Your pussy pulses, gets a fluttery heart beat of its own, as you watch Carlos undo his belt. Anticipation makes you sink a hand between your thighs, makes you press and put a little pressure on your cunt to give you just a bit of relief. 

His hands are big and strong, and the glint of the belt buckle matches the glint of the rings that decorate his fingers. The glint of the zipper as he pulls it down. He rubs himself over his boxers, shimmying his jeans down just little as he does it.

“Do you wanna kiss me here too?” He’s smiling a tiny smile, talking quietly as his fingertips play with the tip of his cock. He sounds a little breathless too. 

“Please,” you all but whimper, mouth watering.

He hums, while he drags his briefs down his length until it springs out and bounces back to his tummy. He sighs when he starts to stroke himself with one hand, the other settling on your face, petting a little before he taps an open palm on it.

You try to hold in the moan, but when his hand connects with your skin again, just a little harder than before, you can’t. It makes Carlos’s hand on his cock speed up. His mouth parts in awe. Gripping your jaw, he pushes it side to side, and you just let him. You let him play with you like a little doll. Another teasing smack lands on your face.

He sighs, lust filled and dreamy. “God, you’d let me do whatever I want to you, wouldn’t you?” His thumb is running over the slightly reddened skin of your cheek. You nod in his hold. 

You would. It’s scary to think about, the extent you feel like you’d go to, to have him, what you’d let him do, let him get away with.

He brings his cock to your lips, but pulls it back when you try to suckle it. You pout, and then he taps the tip of it against your lips, groaning when he says, “Yeah, I know you would, you’re so good to me, so perfect,” he taps the length of his cock on your cheek a few times, he marvels at the little string of precum that connects his tip to the apple of your cheek. 

His cock feels thick and hot and a pleasant kind of heavy on your cheek, much like how it feels on your tongue. When he finally lets you taste him, you start by curling your tongue around the crown, licking up some of the precum that has dribbled from his slit. You love it when he leaks for you. It shows you what you do to him, how bad he wants you. He confirms it when he sighs small affirmations.

“That’s it, such a good girl for me.”

 You look at him, smiling a little at the praise, tongue teasing his slit, and his face makes your pussy throb. His mouth is parted and his eyes are hooded, like he wants to close them, bask in the pleasure, but keeps them open because the desire to watch you with his cock in your mouth outweighs it. He pushes his hips forward.

“Suck it, baby,” he whispers, soft and salacious as he guides the tip past your lips, little by little until it touches the back of your throat.

You’re confident about a few things, but your head game is close, if not at the top of your list. Little to no gag reflex to hold you back, mouth wet and sloppy as you drool all over his length. Tongue skilled as it moves up and down the sensitive vein running on the underside, while your throat contracts around his tip. 

His hips stutter like he’s gonna pull out before he pushes in as far as he can, hands forming a makeshift ponytail with your hair as he holds you down, buries your nose in the coarse patch of groomed hair at the base of his cock. He moans, whines, high pitched and loud. He pulls out of your throat with a gasp.

“Fuck, your mouth,” he drools, praises. 

He gives you a second to catch your breath, admires the way your eyes are glassy with tears, mascara smudging the slightest bit, surely to be running by the time he’s done with you. You love it when he fucks you hard enough to make you cry, hard enough to make your makeup run. It shows how well he did it, how badly he made you fall apart. He’s got a few pictures on his phone of you looking ruined and fucked out. He says you look so pretty like that, with teary eyes, a messy face, and hair knotted from being fucked into the mattress. 

Then he’s fucking your mouth. Hand coming down to your neck so he can feel the way his cock fills it up every time his hips snap forward. His body curls over yours some as he bends a little to reach your neck, and you can feel the heat from his body ignite the air around you as he slides deeper, inch by inch . 

Every time he pulls out you take a quick breath through your nose, before he’s pushing in again, your throat like a spit-slick cocksleeve designed specifically for him. The perfect amount of wet and the tightest type of grip. His breathing is audible and ragged above you, harsh huffs, and occasional moans color the air when you swallow around him. His cock is so hard and hot in your mouth, throbbing and pulsing on your tongue. 

Your hands are on his thighs and you can feel them tense, almost tremble as he pulls your head down onto him over and over again. He’s less considerate now, stingy with the breaths he allows you to take while he chases that high.  He’s groaning loud and unabashed, and you’re choking, bubbles of spit forming at the corners of your mouth and around the base of his cock. He holds you down one more time, shaking your head by the ponytail so that the tip of his cock rubs against the back of your throat then he’s hastily pulling you off.

You rest your forehead on his lower belly, trying to catch your breath. You can feel him too, getting a hold of himself, due to the expanding of his stomach as he takes deep breaths. He still has his hands on you, touching just like always, running his fingers through your hair. Until he’s pulling you up by it.

He’s quick to get his lips on you, and his tongue is quick to slide into your mouth. When he tastes himself on you, he sighs, smiles into the kiss. With hands cupping your face, you smile back, basking in the attention and sweet affection. You reach your hand down and grab his cock and his hips jerk. He pulls away at first before subtly fucking into your hand and moaning. You drink it down like the sweetest champagne, his sounds intoxicating in their own right. 

“Fuck,” he whispers as he rests his forehead against yours, “wanted to cum in that mouth so bad… wanna cum in your hand right now,” he pushes a long slow thrust into your palm, his foreskin sliding with his movements. He sounds like it’s so difficult to hold back, to keep from cumming right there in the palm of your hand.  “You’ve got me so hot baby, wanna cum inside you…” He places the softest, pleading kiss to your lips. 

It almost sounds like a question, his voice light and airy, lilting up at the end. Soft and gentle as he brushes his nose against yours, a gesture that is as painful as it is sweet, a touch too tender for what you both are. But it makes you keen in his hold, body pressing to his, as close as you can get. 

Your hands are running over him, and his running over you, just taking up each other’s space, breathing each other’s breaths. His hands slide to your hips and spin you around so you’re facing the bed, a little rough, impatient, as they yank your pants and panties down. They knead at your ass, when you lower to your forearms and arch your back, presenting yourself to him. 

Carlos drops to his knees behind you, spreads your cheeks so he can see your cunt, pretty and pink and glistening. He rubs his two first fingers in between your plush lips, and your legs spread wider. You push back into his touch.

“Just fuck me, please, I can’t wait,” you breathe.

He hums, plays with your pussy a little more before you feel him spit on it. Then he buries his face into you, tongue coming out and licking from your clit, to your core, all the way to your hole between your spread cheeks. He swirls his tongue around it and you peep, the feeling oddly pleasant, but unexpected. Carlos huffs a little laugh  while he pulls away. He sheds his pants, and you follow suit, before settling atop the bed, once more on all fours.

His big hands fall on your ass, jiggling it a little. He groans at the way the fatty part ripples before settling back into place. Gripping his cock with one hand and pulling a cheek to the side with the other, he rubs the tip between your silky lips. The sloppy, wet noises fill the room, loud and clear. The sound of the distant chatter and subdued party music outside the door is distant, barely there, all your focus on Carlos. He hisses as he watches his cock sink inside of you.

“So wet…” he rasps out as he fucks into you with shallow thrusts. He can see your arousal shiny and sticky on his cock, no lube needed.

You nod as your head dips, hanging between your forearms. He bottoms out and you let out a high pitched whine. “Yeah, want you so bad, baby…”

He stays buried to the hilt for a moment, hands running over your ass, your back, squeezing at the smallest part of your waist. His touch feels so good, electric on your skin. But you’ve felt his cock before, many times, and you’re no stranger to how good that feels. It makes you lean forward, makes you drag your cunt up his length, before you push yourself back onto it. 

Carlos gasps, hands squeezing hard at the motion. “Fuck… keep doing that.”

You whimper as your work your pussy over him, throwing your hips back, fast and consistent. Getting high off the sounds Carlos is making behind you. The soft curses, the loud groans when you start to circle your hips slightly. The way he just lets you make him feel good. 

You collapse onto the bed, arms giving out due to the pleasure coursing through your body, and you turn your face to the side, hands gripping the sheets beneath you. His palm settles on the small of your back, halting your movements so that he can snap his hips forward, punching pleased gasps from you. You turn your face into the sheets, trying to quiet yourself. 

He doesn’t like that apparently. If the hand gripping your hair and yanking is enough to go by.

His body is over yours, chest to your back as he fucks into you with short, hard thrusts. “Wanna hear you pretty girl, want everyone to hear you,” he whispers in your ear.

You squirm in his hold, slowly getting overwhelmed by the way his body is making you feel, by the way you slowly climb higher and higher until you feel like you could touch the stars. “Feels… so good…” 

“Yeah, I fuck you the best don’t I?” he purrs, “Better than anyone before me? Better than anyone will after me too, right? Always gonna want this cock, aren’t you?”

You whine because you know it’s true. You know no matter what you do or what happens between you and Carlos, he’s always going to live in your head, always going to have a place in your heart, your body is always going to remember him and long for him. Not even just in a sexual sense either. You think he knows this all too well.

He pulls out of you with a ragged breath before situating himself on his side behind you. He urges you to push yourself against him, back to his front, spooning. He grips the thigh of your top leg, pulls it up to your chest.

“Keep them open,” he instructs.

You do as he says, looking down your body where you see him bring the tip of his cock to your center again. He’s watching you though, braced on his elbow, while his free hand guides himself into you. The way your eyes roll back before squeezing shut with knitted brows makes Carlos sigh, the way your mouth drops open when he pushes in the last few inches makes him moan.

He’s going slow. Long, punctuated plunges into your cunt. He’s got his face buried in the place where your neck meets your shoulders. Breathing out lewd moans, his grip on your hip tightens as he bites and kisses at your throat, breath scalding as he pants into your skin.

“Love your pussy, fuck…” he brings skilled fingers to your clit and starts to massage with tight constant circles. You buckle in his hold, glance down at his hand again, watching as he touches you just the way you like, the way he knows you like. The way he knows will get you shaking in no time.

“Please let me cum,” you beg.

He hasn’t purposefully been edging you, but you’re worked up. Usually he fingers you, goes down on you, before you even get his cock inside of you. But due to the change in routine today and the lack of stimulation, the pressure in your core has been building quick, almost putting you at your breaking point already. 

He’s well aware, voice teasing yet aroused when he coos, “You wanna cum baby? Yeah, you do?” 

You twist in his hold some so that you can look at him, show him the tears in your eyes, hoping that they convey how badly you want to do just that. 

His eyes are shiny too, pleasure so raw and apparent in them. He kisses you, licks into your mouth as he keeps that slow pace to his hips. The one that’s so deep, the one that brushes your sweet spot inside every time he glides against your sensitive walls. 

“Want you to cum too,” he says it with a sigh, like he’s so close, just needs you to finish him off, “you’ve got me so… think I could cum just from being inside you while you cream on my cock, just from feeling that messy little cunt cum around me,” he’s moaning as he speaks, his hips losing rhythm, speeding up some as he gets closer.

You nod, the hand you’re leaning on holding tight at the sheets, the other keeping your legs spread. “Yeah, want you to cum inside me, cum with me…” Your eyes are closed, and your voice is kind of delirious as you feel it all come to a head. Your pussy is already tightening around him.

He hisses. “There you go, that’s it baby… can feel how close you are,” his hips have almost stopped, just the smallest, minute little thrusts still going. He brings the fingers on your clit down to your leaking cunt just for a second getting them nice and wet before circling your bud again, faster, a little harder than before. Focusing on your pleasure, on making you finish. You keen as the leg you’re holding up starts to shake.

“Gonna cum,” you warn, the hand that was gripping the sheets coming up to your tit to play with your nipple.

Carlos curses on a moan, “Yeah, fuck… me too.”

He feels it, the way your body goes tense before you let go. How you tremble against him as your orgasm rushes through you, moans and whimpers falling from your lips. Your pussy clenching around his cock is what sends him over the edge. 

“Fuck, I’m cumming-” he gasps out quickly, before biting down on your shoulder, grunts of pleasure muffled as he fucks into you as deep as he can, repeatedly, with those small thrusts. You feel his cock throb inside of you, cum filling you up. 

You smile, serene and spent when he goes limp behind you. His arm comes around your waist, pulls you closer. He keeps his cock tucked inside. You run your fingertips over his arm and feel the slight scabbing of the stars on his skin.

He shivers at the touch. Sitting up some, he curls over you. Your eyes are still closed, content, chest still rising and falling with your deep breaths. He leans in and kisses you, so sweet. Tastes like rose petals dipped in sugar. 

He’s still on your lips when he mutters, “Now we have to figure out a way to get out of here without getting any cum on Lando’s sheets.”

You giggle, nod, and then kiss him again. You’ll clean up in a little. 

It’s deliberate, the way you choose not to think about the reason why he wants to clean up, get going. How he doesn’t want to stay the night with you. 

~~~

“I want you to get out a pen and a piece of paper and then clear off the rest of your belongings.”

School is back in session, winter break ending far too soon. It’s your last semester, your degree is so close you can almost taste it, with only 3 classes left till you’re walking the stage in your cap and gown. One of the classes is a writing class that you saved till the end of your university run so you had something to look forward to. 

It’s a Thursday afternoon and you’re sitting in the back of your Creative Writing lecture hall. Someone’s eating so it smells disgustingly of peanut butter and the seats are filled with college students who just rolled out of bed at 12pm, everyone slightly disheveled and the crowd lackluster as the professor paces the front of the room. She’s quickly become one your favorites however, the last few weeks in her class proving to be entertaining as well as educational. You paw your sweater sleeve up in your fist and hold it to your nose and lean forward attentively.

“Now, I want you to think about someone you love. It can be a real person, fictional, completely imaginary. Dead or alive. Old or young. Doesn’t matter. You just have to love them.”

Of course starry doe-eyes flash in your mind. A crooked grin that pulls down a little farther on the right side. The centered mole just under his bottom lip that you kiss softly, so often when he’s distracted. The scar on his cheek that you run your fingers over when he’s resting on you. You do love Carlos, you have for a while now.

“Write that person’s name at the top. They are going to be the model of basis and foundation for one of the characters in the short story project that we have due mid-April. So you’ve got approximately 2 months to finish it.” 

A chorus of groans sound around the hall. The boy in front of you rests his head on his arms, looking defeated.

“Hey,” your professor laughs, “this is the last year for most of you and this is the only project you have this semester. And it was in the syllabus. Not sure why you all sound so despondently surprised. You didn’t really think you would get through the whole course without one did you?” she inquires, still pacing the front of the room with a quirked brow.

You honestly don’t mind. It will be a good distraction when you’re left to entertain yourself. Carlos’s actually been more on top of his apprenticeship attendance lately. It’s a good thing of course, but you don’t see him as much as you used to. That’s not to say that you aren’t together an incessant amount, just a bit less than normal. You scribble a tiny ‘Chili ♡’ at the top of your paper.

“Now with your muse in mind, I’m going to ask you a series of questions so that we can get some finite details about your fictional character on paper for you to use and reference as you’re writing,” she pauses, clicks to another slide on the projector. “What is their favorite color?”

After writing the question you pause. Surely it’s red right? That’s basically the only color he wears. Maybe black? You had helped him color his hair black just a few days ago, the stains on your pillow a lightish grey colored reminder every night… Still, you go with your first instinct, scrawling ‘red’ on the lined paper.

“Their birthday?”

You’re quick to answer this one, he’s a Virgo, so his birthday is… A small frown starts to tug at the corners of your lips. What day in September did he say? Did he ever say? Did you guys ever even actually talk about birthdays? ‘Virgo’ gets written next to question 2.

“Are they close to their parents? Closer to the mother or father? Are they estranged? If you know why, please elaborate.”

You know you don’t know this one. Fairly certain Carlos hasn’t even mentioned them in passing.

“What role, or character archetype are they playing in your story?” she clasps her hands in front of her. “Are they the hero? The love interest? The villain?”

You answer that one hastily.

A few more questions are asked, some that you can answer, some that you can’t. They gradually get deeper, more personal as your professor carries on with them.

“Okay. Now I want you to think hard about this character, and about the muse you’ve crafted them after. Could you answer all of the questions I asked?” She moves a weighted gaze around the room. You feel like she’s looking directly at you when she speaks again. “Do you really love the person you chose for the basic character prototype? Again, they could have been real, imaginary or fictional, but do you really love them, or do you love the idea of them? The version of them that you have pieced together in those brains of yours.”

Your heart stops for just a moment, you can almost feel how you pale, the color draining from your cheeks. She continues.

“I only ask because I want you to grow to love the character you are creating. This isn’t Psychology, I’m not here to make you question the love, or emotions you do or don’t feel,” the class laughs at this. The class with the exception of you. “But I am here to make you better writers. And one skill that you can have as a writer, a creative, or fiction writer especially, is building a connection with your characters. You’re going to be working on their, the character you’re outlining, story for the next few months. And when I read your work I want to be able feel the connection you have with them.” 

She waits for it to sink in before continuing. “So I ask again: Do you love the muse you’ve chosen, or do you love the idea of them? Because loving someone and loving the idea of them are two completely different things. To love an idea of someone or something is to love it in a very surface level and/or superficial way. Still with me?” she questions.

You are, but you wish you weren’t. You think you’re going to be sick.

“Good, so as I was saying. It’s superficial. To be blunt, you love them for what they could be not for what they really are. As writers, many of us are guilty of this.”

The thing about being a hopeless romantic is that you think about life in could be’s.

“To truly love someone or something is to know all the little details about them, their virtues and their flaws. The reason why they prefer winter to spring. How old they were when they got their heartbroken for the first time. When they figured out who they are as a person, or if they are still searching. I asked those questions at the beginning of class to get you thinking.” 

Your hands are starting to tremble just a little. Words on your paper coming out sloppy. You do love Carlos.

Your professor takes a deep breath, flips to another slide. “How can you expect to love the character when you don’t even truly love who they are modeled after?”

The room is quiet for a second. Someone raises their hand.

“Isn’t it possible for characters to change as you write them? Like I can’t change my person, but I can change my character, like write them the way I want so that I end up loving them.”

Your professor laughs again, light and airy as if she expected someone to ask. “Ah, yes. Character development is a thing of course. Although this is something that happens naturally throughout the story. But to change your character, like how you described?” she shakes her head and tsks, “Is it really love if you have to change them?”

The sound of your paper crumpling is blaring in the quiet room. You pull out a new sheet, writing your sister’s name at the top. Her favorite color is green, her birthday is July 8th, she’s closer to your dad because you and your mom have always had a bond she couldn’t recreate with her, she’s the hero in the story, not the love interest like Carlos was… The lecture continues, and you don’t even notice when the bell rings, too busy thinking about how you do love Carlos.

~~~

Carlos’s playing the newest version of Final Fantasy on his PS, the one you got him for Valentine’s day just a few days ago. You remembered him passively saying that he hadn’t played since he was little, and how he said he missed racing the chocobo’s. 

His eyes flicker between his tv and you walking around his room. You’ve been to his apartment many times, but still, you always move around and take everything in like it’s your first time there; your fingers running over his manga collection in the corner, tidying up his desk, lighting the linen candle you brought from your place. 

‘A gentle smell’ you had told him with a sweet smile, ‘because you’re sensitive to certain scents.’

He gets distracted, the pleated skirt you’re wearing catching his eye even more than the improved graphics of the game. He doesn’t quite hear you when you speak up.

“Huh?” he asks, dragging his gaze up your body only to be met with a knowing look of your own. He smiles sheepishly.

You roll your eyes, before taking a seat in his computer chair, not too far from his bed where he’s sat. Flipping through one of his tattoo sketchbooks you ask again, “What’s your favorite color?”

Carlos isn’t surprised when you decide to make conversation. Before you started wandering around his room, you were on the bed with him while he played but you were a little fidgety and fussy, like you had something on your mind. He suspected you got up to try and distract yourself from your thoughts.

He hums and tells you that it’s black, maybe red. 

You ask his birthday next. He tells you September 1st. 

Adjusting himself against the headboard of his bed, he opens for you when you make your way to him, crawling across his duvet. You take it upon yourself to settle between his thighs, back against his chest. He wraps his arms around you and continues to play, his chin resting atop your head. He smiles to himself when he feels you start to trace the stars on his arm.

“Are you close to your parents?” you question again.

He makes a small pondering noise. “Not really.”

“Why not?”

“Uh- they worked a lot I guess and-” He pauses. You don’t sound like you’re prying, just soft curiosity lacing your tone, but he still hesitates. “Why are you asking?”

You hum and lean up a little to peck at the line of his jaw. He purrs at the contact, content. “Just wondering,” you state, pressing back into his chest.

It’s quiet for a bit, you annoyingly plucking at the little bit of arm hair he has, making him laugh and playfully scold you, nuzzling into you and nipping at your cheek in retaliation. You giggle and he gets that sharp feeling in his chest, just like he always does.

He thinks that’s the end of your questioning but too soon, you speak up again. “Do you prefer Winter or Spring?”

“Winter, but my favorite season is Fall,” he says glancing down at you quickly before redirecting his attention to his game again. “You’re being weird, are we playing 20 questions or something? No, I’m not a virgin. What color panties are you wearing?” he asks, trying to make a joke.

He chuckles when you lift your skirt to check before flipping it down again. “Pink,” you reply.

You’re about to talk again but he interrupts you, “Wait let me see, I didn’t get a good look.”

He hears you huff and can imagine you rolling your eyes as you do what he asks. You put it down again after a few seconds.

“Just a little longer,” he tries.

“Ugh, can you stop,” you say, a giggle leaking into the words, “I’m trying to talk to you!”

He groans over dramatically like he’s exhausted, but he gives in. He always does with you. 

“How old were you when you lost it? Your virginity?”

The fond feeling in his chest starts to dwindle, and Carlos can feel the first little pricks of irritation poke at him as he answers your question shorter than before. “17 or 18.”

You make a small surprised noise, looking up at him shocked. “Really that old?”

He doesn’t glance back, stays focused on his game, hoping that you get the hint that he doesn’t want to ‘talk’ like this. “Yeah, I was a late bloomer and also an idiot.”

You smile at him before going back to tracing his tattoos. “I doubt you were an idiot. That was just part of your story, a little chapter in your life.”

He tenses at your words but shortly after, a lull falls into the conversation. But as soon as Carlos relaxes, a small frown takes over his face when you ask if the girl had been his girlfriend. And again, you don’t sound overbearing or anything, but he knows you can tell he’s not interested or invested in your questions. The atmosphere has shifted from pleasant and content to stiff and vexatious.

“Yup,” he says, voice taking a stern edge despite his efforts to mask it. 

He feels you tense against his chest, your fingers halting on his arm. “Are you mad at me?” you ask hesitantly.

Immediately he feels bad, and sighs. “No, I’m not,” he says quietly, trying to be gentle. 

But it seems you just don’t get it, because not even a few minutes later you’re asking, “How long were you together?”

And he does his best to not snap at you, but he can’t stop himself when he goes rigid behind you and his words come out harsh and scathing. “Why does it matter and why the fuck are you interrogating me all of a sudden?”

You turn around between his legs and gape at him with a shocked expression. “I’m not interrogating you? I’m literally just making conversation? Trying to get to know you better?” 

“And why’s that?” he says, his tone flippant and annoyed.

You pout and furrow your brows. “Am I not allowed to get to know you?”

His jaw ticks and he casts an annoyed gaze around his room, looking anywhere but at you, as if not acknowledging the confused and hurt arch of your brow will make it go away. “You haven’t tried to in the last what? Five months?”

“Six,” you correct him quietly.

You sound unsure, like you don’t know why he’s lashing out like he is. And to be fair, it’s out of character for him, at least with you. He’s really not this cold towards you very often, almost ever. 

Usually things with you both are great, easy. Fitting together in each other’s lives almost perfectly. So seamlessly they are almost completely intertwined at this point. You meeting him for his breaks at his lessening shifts at the coffee shop, him meeting you after classes when he doesn’t have work, going to each other’s places after he gets off from his apprenticeship. The parties every now and again. The tattoos. 

But he supposes it’s easy to put two blank canvases together when there are no details known about either of them. That’s what he was hoping for at least.

“So am I just not allowed to?” you repeat when he stays silent.

With an irked groan he tosses his controller to the side and rubs his hands over his face, rakes them through his navy hair. “I just don’t get why you are asking in the first place.”

You regard him quietly for a moment, taking in his bored stare. He knows the disinterest in his tone is agonizingly apparent, and he knows it hurts you, just like the detached dismissal that he has ready on the tip of his tongue will. He expects you to keep pushing, to bicker with him just so he doesn’t give you the silent treatment. 

He doesn’t expect you to start crawling off his bed. 

He sighs and reaches out for you, getting a grip on your arm before you can get away completely. “C’mon, what are you doing? Are you mad at me now?”

“I’m not mad, I just don’t see the point in staying here if you aren’t going to talk to me.” You’re trying to sound impassive, but he can hear the hurt in your voice.

“But I am talking to you. I talk to you all the time, what do you mean?” He hates that he almost sounds like he’s whining, but he just doesn’t understand and he’s frustrated that you are prying and making things deeper than they need to be, than they should be.

“Not about things that matter,” you reply curtly.

“But the things you’re asking about literally do not matter, ___,” he states, just as short.

You hang your head back and he can see your lashes fluttering rapidly. He knows you’re trying to not cry. Blinking to rid your eyes of unshed tears. You do that sometimes, cry when you get frustrated. As articulate as you are, sometimes things are hard to get out. You sound defeated and disheartened, but your words also have a hurt edge to them when you say, “They matter to me, anything that has to do with you matters to me.”

He knew you were close to tears, but when you look at him with glossy eyes, he softens almost instantly.

“Baby,” he coos, sighing again as he tugs you back to between his legs, back to his chest like when the conversation first started. He wraps his arms around you and kind of sways a little as he pecks your hair. “I just don’t think it’s important. Like the past is the past, and that’s it, you know?”

He knows you’re pouting, and your voice is short and whiny when you insist, “I just want to know.”

He hangs his head back and knocks it lightly against his headboard, trying to be patient with you. “It wasn’t like a bad relationship or anything like that but I just-”

“Does it still bother you?”

“No, but it’s still something I’d rather not think or talk about,” he’s talking to you slowly, like a child. 

You’re quiet for some time, but Carlos just waits, knows you have more questions.

It’s tentative and rushed when you speak again. “Was she your only girlfriend? If it wasn’t a bad relationship, why did you break up with her?”

 He takes a deep breath, actively trying to not be short with you. “She was the only serious one, and she broke up with me. Nothing really happened.” He shrugs, tone getting softer as he speaks. “Just the stereotypical case of unreciprocated love, or like one person just not feeling it anymore.”

“So you loved her?” It asked so quietly that he almost doesn’t hear you over the chimes of his game still playing in the background, forgotten and now sound tracking the trepid atmosphere around you.

He doesn’t verbally reply, just nods. He knows you’ll feel the movement.

It hurts him when you go still in his hold. Like you didn’t want that to be the answer. You recover quickly, however, inquiring him again. “Did she break your heart?”

He can’t help but laugh a little behind you, the words sounding far too dramatic for him. “Yeah I guess so?” he answers, “But it wasn’t like traumatizing if that’s what you’re thinking. I just cared for her more than she cared about me in the end. That’s how it always is, right?” He pauses, hums like he’s thinking. “Plus she was the first girl I was with, blah blah blah, you know how the story goes.”

You make a confused noise in front of him like you’re trying to understand and wrap your head around what he just said. “Did that really not affect you at all?”

You’re probably wondering why he is the way he is, if his first heartbreak isn’t his anti-commitment origin story. He doesn’t blame you.

Jeongg thinks about his words for a second. He’s not lying. It wasn’t traumatizing. Maybe it did change him, how he views things, people, love. But it wasn’t tragic. He just kind of became this way as he got older. He has no real backstory for why he is the way he is, why he loves to be loved but will never love in return. Not in the way the other person deserves, at least. Even if he wanted to, he never would. Because as selfish as it is, the one thing he craves more than love, than anything, is his freedom. And in his head he can’t have it all. 

And maybe that is tragic in a sense, but he’s never really thought of it as a bad thing. Knows that sometimes in order to have something he wants, he has to give up something else. 

“I mean… I see love differently now. I don’t know if my viewpoint changed because of the break up or just because I got older and realized what’s important to me, but I probably used to think about love closer to the way you do… head in the clouds,” he nudges you playfully, like he’s trying to lighten the mood, “too much faith in people. A top tier romantic and the number one idealist.”

He knows it’s hard to picture. But he was more like you than he would care to admit. Maybe that’s why he’s so much more careful with you. Because he knows.

“How do you see love now?”

Sometimes Carlos thinks he’s heartless. But when you ask him questions like that, the kind that you already know the answer to, but ask anyway, hoping that he will tell you something different, tell you what you want to hear… He knows he’s not because his heart aches in his chest. 

He knows he’s not heartless, because he does his best to be soft with you, to make whatever this is between you both, as painless as possible. And that’s why he never lies to you about this kind of stuff, because he knows if he did, it would hurt so much more later. And he doesn’t want that. Carlos is selfish with you, but he never wants to hurt you.

“You know how I see it, ___,” he murmurs softly, like he’s trying to be gentle. Almost like he’s reminding you. “Why are you asking questions that you know are going to-”

Hurt you.

He doesn’t say it, because he doesn’t need to. He knows you know that’s what he means. 

He feels bad when you start to backtrack. “No, no. I’m not. It’s okay…” you rush out as you shift onto your knees and face him again, hands coming up to cup his face. “Thank you for telling me,” You kiss him gently, hands squeezing, thumb rubbing over the scar on his cheek. You’re too soft, too good for someone like him. “I’m sorry for being nosy, I was just curious.”

His hands on your hips squeeze, and he pulls you closer, brushes his nose against yours before he kisses you. “It’s okay, I’m sorry for getting upset just-” he breathes hot and sharp against your lips, “Kiss me.”

Falling into each other after moments like these is easy. It’s been happening more lately, rough talks turning into rough touches. But again, it’s just so simple. It’s easy to stop the fights and the questions with his lips against yours, it’s easy to forget the things he does behind your back when he has you on yours beneath him, and it’s easy to pretend like that’s all there is. Just you and him. Two parts of the same star you might say. 

But even though it’s simple, Carlos still wonders how long easy will be enough. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

part 3 will not take as long as part 2 did cause i just need to write a little bit more until im done. i hope u guys are loving it so far. if u do dont forget to like a reblog <3

#carlos sainz #charles leclerc #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x oc #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr #scuderia ferrari #cs55 #cs55 x reader #smut #fluff #formula 1

[kayadrake123]

Random Tim Drake relationship headcanons

Tim Drake x GN!Reader

Tim definitely plays guitar, electric guitar to be exact. He owns at least 3, but his favourite is a light blue one that was gifted to him by Bruce as a welcome gift after his adoption.

He likes to play you songs while you’re both on a break from work and just chilling out in his room. Sometimes you fall asleep to his playing, which causes him to resort to playing his guitar whenever he can see you’re having trouble falling asleep.

You sometimes ask him to learn specific songs just so you can hear what he sounds like playing them. And as he is in everything he does, he plays it fucking perfectly.

Tim isn’t a big reader. He actually despises reading cause he just can’t force himself to get through the first few pages. All the words end up giving him a headache (mainly because he never wears his glasses but we’ll get to that later)

He does however enjoy hearing you speak about the books you read if you’re a reader. He also really enjoys listening to you read to him, as your voice soothes him and he thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

Most times when you read to him, he lays on your stomach with his eyes closed as you brush your hand through his hair, your legs tangled together.

Tim is obsessed with his s/o’s voice. He loves when you say his name and the way you say certain words (especially if you have an accent). He thinks it’s the most angelic thing ever known to man. You have the ability to calm him down by just opening your mouth and letting him hear your beautiful voice (that and he’d rather drop dead than not do what his s/o tells him).

TIM DRAKE WEARS GLASSES. There I said it. He doesn’t need to wear it all the time, but he especially needs them when he needs to read. All the late nights in the dark staring at a computer screen really does take a toll on your eyesight. He looks goddamn adorable in his glasses (and fucking hot ;) ) If you wear glasses, he thinks it makes you ten times hotter :))

Tim can be fucking cold. Man is calm and friendly (not overly cause he’s emo) and really down to earth most of the time, but when someone really pisses him off, oooooh boy.

He’s the type of person who doesn’t need to raise his voice to hurt you, his words cut deep enough bro. Like he’s really sarcastic half of the time, but in a fight his sarcasm is intensified with the intent of making you hurt badddd bro. He doesn’t mean to do it, it just happens in the heat of the moment.

He also tends to distance himself when he’s beyond pissed off with you, like he doesn’t trust himself around you not to say really hurtful things. It isn’t the case with everyone else, but he eventually allows you to try and get him to talk to you again. With his friends and family he snaps at them for trying, but again, you bring out a calmness in him.

Tim will only ever drink black coffee.

Man is super touchy. Like at the beginning of your relationship he wasn’t as affectionate due to him having a lack of physical affection in his life from his parents, but the more he became comfortable with you, the more his hands began to roam ;)

He prefers physical touch over words of affirmation for himself as he has a hard time speaking about his feelings. When he does say words of affirmation, it’s completely random but makes you melt all the same.

He likes taking pictures of you like a mom does with their kids. He can’t help it, he just thinks you’re fucking beautiful and amazing and wow.

His whole family loves you, but you’re closest to Cass, Steph and Duke. They just really enjoy your company and often try to steal you away from Tim, which annoys him.

His nicknames from you consist of “Timmy”, “Duckie”, “Birdy” and loads more

He loves to call you nicknames that have a link to a funny or cute experience he’s had with you. People always find it so cute when you explain it to them.

He’s so soft with you. His touch, the way he looks at you and speaks to you. He’s so delicate when it comes to you and he’s so in love.

#tim drake #batfam x reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #tik drake angst #Tim Drake fluff #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #duke thomas #dc comics #batman #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne x reader

[chainofclovers]

Ted Lasso 3x11 Thoughts

I have to write my thoughts down right away this time.

[Please don’t hate me if calling TL a rom-com is your favorite thing but] I’ve always felt like Ted Lasso isn’t a rom-com in the traditional sense where a protagonist finds love with an “opposites attract” kind of person and it ends right as they’ve decided to be together. Because the rom-com structure can be brilliant for what it is, but it’s all about the build-up, the whirl of questions and magic that gets you to one perfect moment of clarity. Ted Lasso is a kaleidoscope of people, all learning from the light reflected off the others. People within its world fall in and out of love, but the “movie” isn’t structured entirely around a single love story between two people. And I like that, as much as I have strong feelings about the potential for romantic love in this universe. Because a lot of times, when I watch a rom-com, I can’t quite picture what will happen to the characters who have fallen in love now that they’ve cracked the code of getting there. But, of course, what if Nora Ephron wrote a sports film? (—Jason Sudeikis.) As soon as this ep ended, my wife said she loved that this very Ephron-filled episode rather aggressively tied up a lot of loose ends all at once, with a lot of rosy moments and schmaltzy dialogue and the kind of magic that exists in a romantic comedy, revised to be about sports. Which are actually about life. Or whatever.

I appreciate that structure a lot, but even more than that I appreciate that the Ephroniest episode of this show is the penultimate one. I assume—or at least, I very much hope—that now that they’ve tied up so much and hurtled these characters so rapidly towards the close of the scene, the finale will have some breathing room to be a bit more real and more messy. I hope that it still feels like closure for this story, but I also hope that it’s open enough that we not only trust that all these people will still have lives, but will actually be able to imagine them.

It’s kind of funny how much the ending to this one felt like a cliffhanger even though I’m certain Ted is going to tell Rebecca he’s going to need to leave at the end of the season. A neat trick for the rom-com ep, cutting off the two protagonists right before their moment of clarity. Because of course Ted is already clear. And I would have HATED Rebecca’s so-self-aware-the-fourth-wall-was-quivering speech about the truth bomb if it weren’t for Ted so clearly having something to say, and if it weren’t for how casual and almost careless she is about being down in the office simply because it’s on-schedule. I mean, this woman was in no way able to handle it when Higgins merely suggested rethinking Ted’s role when the season was going badly; I’m really curious how shaken she’s going to be when he tells her, and how quickly she’ll get to acceptance. 

For all that I loved the flirtation with rom-com structure, and the big sports movie messages, and all the very intense interpersonal dynamics (Ted and his mom! Beard and Nate! Roy and Keeley and Jamie loose in Manchester! Even the ten seconds of Bex and Ms. Kakes showing up at Rebecca’s doorstep!), there’s also a big part of me that’s just aching, though, because I just love Ted and Rebecca and Ted&Rebecca and Ted/Rebecca so much. And even though their connection would never be a rom-com romance to me—because their connection is forever, and their connection has already taken so much good work, and that’s as it should be—I would love to watch them fall in love in a romantic way (if not a rom-com way). That still of them watching the movie together was sooooo lovely and soft and framed with such perfect movielight that I just feel wistful. But Ted is right about You’ve Got Mail not quite being his favorite story. It’s Sam’s rom-com, and I would have even liked the little glance between Sam and Rebecca as Sam feels his own wistfulness if it weren’t for how much I just wanted to see that promo still come to life.

(The absolute bullshit of shipping wars notwithstanding, I feel like even among the sensible non-warring people there is a camp of seeing no romance between T/R and a camp of seeing romance in everything between T/R, and I’m just. In neither place. I have seen a lot of their connection points this season as full of the potential for some kind of realized love, and I think many of the things they have said to each other and done for or with each other have a comfort and familiarity that could flip nearly instantaneously into a romantic and sexual love. Also, aren’t rituals kinda kinky anyway? And their whole relationship is based on rituals? 

It’s so weird; I don’t think I’m delusional, but I could still see them having a huge moment in 3x12 and in fact am certain there will be one, I just don’t know what it will mean to them. But I will never be like “I’m clowning again” when it comes to this shit because the ingredients are literally all there, and I guess they can make whatever cake they want, and I’ll unclownily respect it while continuing to see what I see.)

Other stuff: 

Ted’s mom added some cutesy pillows and kitchen stuff to Ted’s flat, right? I think it’s interesting that her ultimate message was that Henry misses Ted and that he can’t be scared of parenting him, but in the lead up to that truth she was doing stuff to populate his living space in London more fully. I’m curious if that was the equivalent of the cute animal videos he referenced in s1, when she’s trying to work up the courage to talk about something real, or if it was something about a parents’ desire to make their children more comfortable even if they screw up, or if it portends something more complicated on the horizon w/r/t Ted’s relationship to “home.” 

I loved Becky Ann Baker’s performance so much, and I thought Jason Sudeikis played off her incredibly well. There is nothing more irritating than being irritated by someone whose worst qualities are the exact same as your worst qualities. And when Rebecca and Beard and Higgins and the entire team just adore Dottie, it’s just so…of COURSE THEY DO. It was so good.

I think this show has something very frustrating to say about forgiveness and I think maybe there needs to be a different word for this concept they keep invoking?! I’m certain there are interesting philosophical and theological beliefs about forgiveness and how it’s not really about willfully becoming okay with someone who has hurt you but more about freeing yourself from how horrible it feels to be trapped by how that person made you feel. And I think that is what Ola advises Sam to do when thinking about the bigots who trashed him publicly and trashed his restaurant, and I think that is what Ted advises Jamie to do when he suggests how Jamie reframe how he feels about his dad. I don’t think either conversation is intended to minimize the horrors of what has happened, and it feels like the intention/vibes/overall care for the person receiving the advice/outcome in each situation is “correct” in that both Sam and Jamie end up finding the conversations helpful. But something about forgiveness as a concept just feels like they needed to invent some new word or contextualize the old word better or something.

When Jamie’s mum takes his side about his hair being walnut haze OH MY GOD.

Genuinely thought Keeley and Roy were fully back together last episode and I think Rebecca also thought this, LOL. I am unsure what I even want to happen at this point. I mean, obviously Jamie/Keeley/Roy should ride off into the sunset together. So I guess I do know what I want to happen.

Beard backstory! Ted and Beard backstory! I am so, so glad the Ted and Nate reunion didn’t happen in the Ephron ep. I am so, so glad Beard showed up and gave something of himself and grew as a human being a little bit. I’m glad that Nate did not send anyone any groveling tomes, and that this continues to be a story about forging and reforging connections rather than the economy of redemption. 

I’m sure there’s more, but I’m fuckin’ exhausted. Until next time, so long, farewell. (HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.) 

#ted lasso #ted lasso meta #meta by me #ted lasso s3 spoilers #ted x rebecca #hot dork club #ted lasso 3x11

[amazingmsme]

We absolutely want your version of events please and thank you

Thank you, y’all never fail to enable me, I love it

Warnings for mildly disturbing content, but if you saw Hey, Melissa you already know what you’re in for. & if not, then I guess warnings for kidnapping, torture, dub-con, & pet play (yeah this is one of the weirder nightmare time episodes)

So yeah, just so y’all know what you’re getting into

So when Melissa sees that Paul’s not really interested in her, she sets her sights on an easier target: Ted. She plays along with his flirting & invites him over with plans of keeping him

He takes her to dinner & while he’s in the bathroom, she drugs him to make things easier on herself. She strips him like we see in the episode & I feel like for the first time that he wakes up, he’s just tied up with a leash instead of in the cage. At first he thinks this is just some very kinky & abrupt foreplay, but the way she’s talking so sternly & seriously lets him know that it’s more serious than he thought. He starts apologizing for everything he’s said & done to her & she just keeps shushing him & telling him to “stop barking”

Replace the taser with a shock collar to keep him in line. & instead of, um, that fucked up shit she did to his fingers, she took a sharpie or some paint & drew on the paw beans. She was especially cruel when she got to his feet, ignoring his begging & cooing at him like the “cute puppy he is” & just kept asking if he had ticklish paws

If she catches him walking around, trying to use his hands, or other “human stuff” she uses the shock collar

From there, it’s a lot of the same stuff with keeping him locked up & feeding him dog food

Melissa finally manages to trick Paul into coming over & she manages to knock him out & put a collar on him & everything. Paul still remembers that she likes cats & meows trying to be set free, but really it doesn’t change too much. He still gets the bean treatment because this version isn’t painful. Since he’s a cat, I feel like she’d also draw whiskers

It took a few days for Ted to find where she hid his phone, but he had a ton of missed calls & texts from Peter asking where the fuck he is & he’s already got a missing person case for him (not that they give a shit, this is Hatchetfield, people go missing every day!) but he calls him & tries to explain what happened. Peter is freaking out & says he’s gonna call the police & Ted tells him not to because then it’ll end up in the papers & all over the news & “he’d rather be dead in some chick’s apartment than the laughing stalk of Hatchetfield” & says he’ll make it out on his own “when the time is right” whatever the hell that means

Peter is worrying himself to death & his friends are just laughing it up making jokes & memes at every opportunity

It’s all fun & games until Richie’s uncle goes missing SHUT UP GUYS IT’S NOT FUNNY!

Melissa still invites her friends over to play with her new “pets” & this time they tie them up to make sure they can’t get away (they have plans & they know they’ll get too squirmy)

& yeah Ted’s Ted so he kinda wants to see where this is going because hey, this many girls have never wanted him at once! But on the other hand paw, Melissa is fucking crazy & he wants to escape with Paul, he just wants these girls to have some fun first

The girls are so fucking teasy it’s unreal, & they brought some tools to help them like those fluffy cat toys, (keeping with the theme I see) makeup brushes, feathers, electric toothbrushes, etc. to keep the fun going!

It starts out slow & simple enough with the girls cooing & stroking them. Paul is scrunching up & trying hard not to giggle, but Ted doesn’t have the same luck because of course where do they fucking go first? His belly

Ted holds out for as long as he can, but their touches are light & they have long nails & it’s just so much harder than it looks! & once they get one laughing the others wanna hear Paul break down & they get him to crack when they bring out the feathers

When Paul giggles they’re like “awww listen to the kitty purr!” & while they tickle Ted’s stomach & he undoubtedly thrashes around, they tease him like he’s a dog shaking his leg & just ask repeatedly “aww you poor thing, does that tickle? Did we find your tickle spot?”

They play around with the different tools they brought & all the while just baby them like they’re cute little sensitive pets. & trust me, they take their time & they make sure to make their teases as flustering as possible. Melissa even has “muzzles” gags for when they get “too loud”

The girls eventually get bored & watch a movie or something & end up falling asleep. In their earlier excitement, Melissa didn’t latch the ton of locks on the front door, & they managed to escape

When they finally get back to work, they’re both SO jumpy around Melissa is hilarious. & they’re both trying to warn Bill & he doesn’t believe them at all because she just seems like such a sweet, normal, innocent girl!

& like I said, I’m a paulkins truther, so in my version Paul doesn’t come crawling back to be her poor little meow meow. Ted might tho, he’s gotta think it over first

#asks #anon ask #nightmare time headcanons #tgwdlm headcanons #hatchetfield headcanon #melissa #ted spankoffski #paul matthews #nightmare time #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #hatchetfield #hatchetverse

[firstelevens]

ok definitely sighing at myself this time, sambucky, NOT the hands one, the one about waking up in the morning you're welcome

19. the way you sound in the morning

(now on AO3)

Bucky is on his second cup of coffee and three chapters into The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy when Sam finally stirs beside him, mumbling something unintelligible into the pillow before blearily opening one eye.

He immediately shuts it again. “S’too bright,” he says, turning his face back into the pillow. “Why?”

“Well, there’s this big star in the sky called the sun…” Bucky starts, and breaks off laughing as Sam shoves his thigh. 

He covers Sam’s hand with his own and answers the question that he was actually asking. “I turned off your alarm. You got flung into the side of a spaceship yesterday; I figured you could stand to skip your morning run just this once.”

He hears Sam huff into the pillow before turning his head again, squinting against the light. “Betty,” he says through a yawn. “The- the thing. The jam.”

“I called Miss Betty, who called Miss Harriet, who called her nephew. It’s already been dropped off.”

Sam relaxes a little, slumping back against the pillow. Bucky picks up his coffee again and turns back to his book, trying hard not to smile when Sam makes a little noise of confusion as Bucky’s hand moves away from his.

He’d be hard pressed to choose, but if he had to pick, he thinks this might be his favorite version of Sam. The rest of the world gets Captain America, upstanding and decisive and always moving; friends and family get Sam Wilson, warm and silly and ready with a listening ear or a helping hand. Bucky’s the only one who gets to see this Sam, and that, too, only on the rare slow morning when the world hasn’t beaten down their door for one reason or another.

It’s a familiar enough routine. Bucky stays where he is, head bowed over his book, rereading the same sentence over and over until the mattress jostles as Sam sits up. Half a moment later, there’s warmth at his back and arms around his waist, Sam’s forehead pressed into the crook of his neck.

He doesn’t say anything, just wordlessly grumbles into Bucky’s t-shirt. It will never stop being funny to Bucky that–for all his pre-dawn exercise routines and chipper 7 AM briefings at the Compound–Sam is emphatically not a morning person. (It will also never stop making Bucky’s stupid heart stutter a little that Sam is comfortable enough to not-be-a-morning-person around him, but he’s learned to expect that by now.)

“You can go back to sleep if you want,” he murmurs, turning a page he definitely didn’t read. “AJ’s game isn’t until four.”

Sam shakes his head against Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m awake,” he says, his voice still a little rough with sleep. “I’m up.”

Bucky snorts. “Sure you are, sweetheart.”

Even half-asleep, Sam is still a menace: he retaliates with a nip to Bucky’s jaw and almost makes him spill his coffee.

As Bucky yelps and sets the mug on the nightstand, he feels rather than hears Sam let out a quiet laugh. He’s loose-limbed against Bucky’s back, none of the usual weight sitting on his shoulders, and Bucky wonders if he could get away with turning off Sam’s alarm a little more often. 

“You’re lucky that wasn’t my first cup,” he says, nudging Sam’s side.

“You’d forgive me if it was,” says Sam. He punctuates it with a kiss, right over where the line of his shoulder meets the vibranium, and Bucky is inclined to agree. There’s still a touch of that sleepy growl coloring his voice when he asks, “Long night?”

Bucky shrugs the shoulder that Sam hasn’t staked a claim on. “It was fine. Alpine kept me company; we watched cartoons.”

It’s a mark of how far they’ve come that Sam just hums in acknowledgment. “Bet she was thrilled,” he says. “Your undivided attention? For hours on end? It’s all she could ever want.”

“Strong words, from a man who basically slapped away my coffee cup because I stopped holding his hand.”

All at once, Sam seems to come awake. One second, he’s mumbling sleepily into Bucky’s shirt, the next second he’s tackling him to the bed, a full smirk on his face as he pins Bucky in place.

“Next time,” he says, plucking Hitchhiker’s Guide from Bucky’s hands, “try to make sure that the book you’re baiting me with is right side up.”

Bucky feels a flush creep up his neck, but at this point, it’s hard to tell whether that’s from embarrassment or the way Sam is looking at him, laughter and heat and tenderness all tangled together.

He grins back unapologetically. “Still worked.”

That would be Sam’s cue to kiss him, but instead he hesitates, looks from the book in his hand to Bucky and back. “Am I going to lose your place in this if I throw it?”

Bucky grabs the book and flings it somewhere behind him. He’s still laughing when he finally pulls Sam down for a kiss.

#I don't know what happened here y'all I blacked out and this appeared #sambucky #zainab does ask meme things #this is me practicing the theory of 'if it sucks hit da bricks' by abandoning the prompt that was giving me trouble in favor of this #my fic #Sam x Bucky #philtstone #phil I know this is not ur flavor at all and I do apologize for that #taylor swift prompt fics

[quibbs126]

I drew a part 2 to my favorite Cookies

To be honest though, I just sort of went with whoever I think is neat, I don’t have like a set list of characters. Should probably do that

Anyways, so let’s get into this

Dark Enchantress Cookie: I think she’s a pretty neat villain. Originally I wasn’t expecting her to be old (I didn’t know who the villain was), but I like it. I dunno, maybe I just haven’t seen that many old ladies as villains? And her voice acting’s pretty good too. Also her voice actor, Patty McCormack, seems like a nice lady :)

But another thing I really like about her is (spoilers) the fact that she’s White Lily Cookie. And she’s not like possessed or turned evil by magic means, from what I can tell, the narrative is that she chose to go down this path. Yes she’s not exactly like White Lily Cookie, and her personality seems changed, but she still has all of White Lily Cookie’s memories, and from what I understand, her change to evil is supposed to be more like a negative response to trauma. She was still White Lily Cookie. She used to be a legendary hero, she used to be lifelong friends with the other Ancients, people we know and we know how deep their bond is. And that is just so interesting to me. And it’s like, I get where she’s coming from, I’ve seen her backstory, and how she got the way she did. And to be honest, her goal doesn’t seem that bad, it’s just the way she goes about it. I hope by the end of the story, she gets some form of happy or at least hopeful ending, whether it’s her changing her ways or even finding peace in death, and possibly getting reborn into a new form to live a better life. But I don’t think I want her to turn back into White Lily Cookie. That sort of invalidates Dark Enchantress Cookie and just makes her seem like just some evil form instead of her own person, which she is. I hear people call Dark Enchantress Cookie “the incarnation of evil”, and while maybe she is in Ovenbreak (I don’t know for sure), she’s clearly not in Kingdom. She’s a flawed, complex individual, just like everyone else

Gingerbrave: I know he isn’t popular, but I like him. I don’t get why he’s hated, other than the fact that he’s like, the most basic Cookie. But what’s wrong with that? Sometimes you need some simplicity. Though to be honest, when first seeing the trailers, I didn’t like him. He seemed like some overconfident dude (for the five seconds I saw him before I skipped the trailer) and I thought the whole game was about him. I wasn’t really aware of what a gacha game was (nor that Genshin Impact was one). Also I thought he was like, at least a teenager, somewhere between 15-20, I did not know he was a child. But once I actually started to play the game, he really grew on me, as he just seems so positive. He’s so willing to help people and do the right thing that I can’t help but like him. Yes maybe he’s a bit generic in that sense but I can’t help but see it as genuine. Funny enough this is exactly how I felt about KO from OK KO, back when that first aired, going through the same thoughts and ending up really liking him.

Also one thing I wanna bring up, but the fact that he knows why Cookies are made, but that he still sees the world in such a positive light is just really good. I know it’s not that big a deal for him since he’s know this from the start, this was the reality he’s always known so it’s not any sort of shock, but I can imagine a future scenario where the other characters find out the truth, and also that Gingerbrave knew the whole time, someone asks him how then he’s been so optimistic, how he’s able to keep a smile knowing the horrible truth, and he gives some sort of speech about how he sees things. I don’t give any specifics because I’m not sure what he’d say, but probably something along the lines of “we may have been created to be eaten, but that doesn’t mean that’s why we live” or something like that, I dunno. This’d probably be where he fully goes into his backstory to others. But yeah, I just like Gingerbrave

Gingerbright: Alright I suppose she’s the weakest contender here, as I really don’t know much about her, but like I said, I just think she’s neat. I like how she’s not just “the girl” of the group and has her own personality, and I like how she’s got a backbone and seems to be the responsible one of the group. She kind of gives me older sister vibes, despite the fact that she’s supposed to be younger than Gingerbrave. Also I like the fact that there’s no sort of romance going on between Ginegrbrave and Gingerbright, they’re just friends. That’s pretty common when you have a female version of a main character and I’m glad they didn’t do that. Actually, given that her description says she was made from the leftover dough from Gingerbrave, I personally like to think that makes her Gingerbrave’s younger sister

A shame she can’t be in Kingdom, but I mean I get it. You don’t really need two Gingerbraves (though I think she’d work fine as part of the crew, other than her turning the party from 5 to 6, one too many), and by this point, you can’t really add her into the game, as story wise it’d make no sense. Also she’d probably be a Common Cookie, and why would you add a new Common Cookie? But ah well. Wish she at least had a Cookie Trial in Ovenbreak

Anyways, those are just some of my thoughts. To be honest I quite like doing these as just a way to go in depth about these characters in general without talking about specific scenarios I’ve drawn or relationships with other characters, just the characters themselves and why I like them

#not sure how controversial some of these opinions are #but they’re mine and I don’t feel like changing them #I only do that if I don’t know enough about a character or have misinformation #but here I don’t feel that #anyways #I feel like at some point this might just turn into “my opinions on Cookie Run characters” #but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ovenbreak #dark enchantress cookie #gingerbrave #gingerbright #favorite cookies #my art

[fluffyllamas-23]

What about ❤️💤🎻🍝 for Mason and Chase and Finn and Aaron? I'll take a look at your OC list again and send some more later but maybe that to start?

yesssss thank you for these! I'm throwing this below the cut because it got LONG lmao

❤️ What are three of your oc's positive traits?

Mason: Mason is a really positive person. He’s really good at seeing the bright side of things, but not in an obnoxious way. He’s just not prone to pessimism and is such a happy and vibrant person. People are drawn to him. He’s also really motivated/determined. He doesn’t let things getting hard stop him, he views it as a challenge, and he LOVES a challenge.  He loves trying new things. He’s really open minded and isn’t afraid of things changing, because what if he LOVES it?? He just really loves new experiences and trying new things and meeting new people. 

Chase: Chase is incredibly loyal. He’s very ride or die for the people he’s chosen to be his. He’s kind of walled off so he doesn’t let *everyone* in, but once he does, he will NOT let you down. He’s been let down enough in his life that he’s vowed to never do that to someone he loves, and he’s mostly been really successful. He’s really consistent and understanding. You can come to him and be like “so I really fucked this up” and his reaction will always be something along the lines of “okay. Maybe you did. That’s okay, how can I help? What do you need?”. He just doesn’t really rub mistakes in people’s faces. He tells his students all the time that mistakes are fine, nothing is unfixable, and they can always come to him for help and he’ll help them. They know that’s true and he’s not trying to trick them. He’s an amazing gift giver as well. He’s really good at getting insight into people and what they like, and always has ideas for what to get them even if they haven’t given him any ideas. 

Finn: Finn is SO funny. He’s got the best sense of humor, and has really great comedic timing. He can make pretty much anyone laugh. He’s really emotionally intelligent. He’s really tuned into how he’s feeling and how everyone around him is feeling. Going along with that, he’s really empathetic. He feels things really deeply and really cares about others. He will definitely cry at sad movies and Aaron thinks it’s really cure even if the thought of crying makes him want to perish lmao.

Aaron: Aaron is soft for exactly one man, and is fiercely protective of him. He’s like this in every relationship he’s been in, but it’s much more intense in this one. He adores Finn and would do absolutely anything for him. He’s really good at taking constructive criticism. He wasn’t always this way, but it’s something one of his mentors/coaches helped him with. They told him that if he wanted to go pro in hockey, he NEEDED to be able to take constructive criticism without getting emotional. None of his coaches would want to put up with a player getting all pissy about whatever it was they suggested they change. He’s really good at taking criticism without getting defensive now. He also cares very deeply about things. He gives 100% to everything he does, and he sticks to all of his commitments unless it’s physically impossible. You can really rely on him - if he says he’s going to do something, he will. 

💤 is your oc a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? How are their sleeping habits?

Mason: Mason is a really heavy sleeper once he IS asleep. Once he’s out, he’s out. It does take him forever to get to that point, because he has the worst sleep hygiene. He’s on his phone in bed, he drinks caffeine too late, and he doesn’t take time to wind down and relax. He’ll also pretty often be watching something too late, and then is surprised pikachu when it takes him forever to fall asleep. He’s naturally more of a night owl, but really isn’t doing himself any favors lmao. He and Chase have a really nice guest room and bed that he will sometimes sleep in if he’s going to go to bed way later than Chase, because his poor planning shouldn’t become Chase’s problem and the last thing he wants to do is wake him up. 

Chase: Chase isn’t a light sleeper but he’s also not a heavy sleeper. He has a *very* strict bedtime routine that he only deviates from if he HAS to. He’s a teacher so it’s vital that he be well rested so he can deal with all of the nonsense and shenanigans that children present 😅. If he’s really keyed up or anxious from work for whatever reason, he has the hardest time falling asleep (take your pick - parents giving him a hard time, a rough situation with one of the kids in his class, a lot of paperwork due soon for an IEP meeting, report cards due soon, a tough upcoming parent/teacher conference, or maybe the kids were really on their bullshit that day and he knows they might also be on their bullshit the next day). He also has a really hard time falling back asleep once he’s woken up. Usually his routine ensures he doesn’t wake up, but if Mason comes to bed too late, he might, and then he feels really off and out of sorts all day. 

Finn: Finn sleeps like the dead and can sleep anywhere in any position. He loves sleeping and naps and jokes that napping is his favorite hobby. Every so often the number of naps he wants to take messes with his sleep and Aaron has started being like “are you SURE you want to nap right now? It’s 6 pm”. Basically, he has big sleepy bitch energy and I am here for it. 

Aaron: Aaron is kind of a high maintenance sleeper tbh. He’s a pretty light sleeper - he’s kind of light and sound sensitive. He’s worked out a solution though, he has a really good pair of earplugs that he wears, along with a weighted eye mask, and a white noise machine. Luckily Finn can sleep through anything and doesn’t mind the white noise at all. 

🎻 Does your oc play any instruments? what is their skill level (beginner/intermediate/ advanced/virtuoso/etc)?

Mason: Mason plays the guitar. He picked it up as an adult and takes lessons from a teacher, and at this point is bordering intermediate. 

Chase: Chase doesn’t play any instruments. He’d like to be able to, but he just doesn’t have the patience for it. He’s tried a few different times but gets frustrated and discouraged at how long it takes him to be even semi-decent at playing one and then he gives up pretty quickly. 

Finn: Finn played the piano as a kid and hated it. He didn’t like being forced to practice something he had no interest in and quit as soon as his parents let him. He doesn’t currently play any instruments. 

Aaron: Aaron plays the guitar. He’s been playing for years and years at this point, since he was a teen. He’s pretty advanced, and he tries to play for an hour or two everyday. 

🍝  what is/are your oc's favorite food(s)?

Mason: Mason has two modes when it comes to favorite foods. Sometimes he wants something SUPER complex and foodie and he’s feeling really adventurous, and then other times he just wants a goddamn pizza and wings. Yes he will be drowning it in ranch, and no you cannot judge him, CHASE (not that chase would ever judge him, he loves the hell out of a good pizza and wings, too). 

Chase: Chase’s absolute favorite food in the entire world is chicken Alfredo. He looooooooves pasta with a creamy sauce and this one is his favorite. Mason has, unfortunately, ruined restaurant chicken Alfredo for him because the one he makes is SO good. Pro and con of being in a relationship with someone who’s such a good cook, I guess lmao. 

Finn: Finn is a big comfort food person. His absolute favorite foods are burger and fries, and Mac and cheese with bacon. He absolutely has a favorite noodle shape and a favorite cheese sauce when making it at home and doesn’t really like boxed Mac n cheese. 

Aaron: Aaron really loves Asian cuisine and his favorite foods are ramen and sushi. If you ask him what he wants for dinner, 90% of the time he’s going to say one of those two things. 

#OCs #mason and chase #Aaron and finn #this was really helpful omg #a lot of the OCs I had on here before I left really just existed to be whump fodder #and like...that's great #I LOVE whumping them #but it's also nice to make them actual people lol

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Hello! I hope it’s not a nuisance but can I request a Genshin Impact, Honkai Star Rall and One Piece matchup? 2 character from each fandom

°GENERAL INFORMATION°

I do like a romantic pair with a male character!

Hobbies: I spend most of my time drawing, playing, watching anime or anything with the horror genre involved (movies, series, games, criminal cases anything with horror or mystery!)

Appearance: I’m pretty short, about 5′ 3″, brown medium hair with no bangs and brown eyes, my head’s empty about fashion lmao, but I’m a mix of cute style (not extreme), goth style and Victorian style

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexually: Bisexual

Age: 20

Aesthetic: Dark Academia, Withcore, Kawaii and Soft Girl

°BONUS°

I would like a character that wouldn’t care about my physical disability (Wheelchair user) and mostly liked make me laugh and feel more positive about myself!

Anyway, take good care of yourself, drink enough water and get enough rest! Also please tag me when you’re done with my request 💕

Hi! Thank you for your request! I've given you one detailed matchup for each fandom as well as an additional matchup suggestion. If you'd like me to write full matchup thoughts for the additional suggestions, let me know! Also, I am currently up to episode 370 (Thriller Bark) of One Piece so please keep that in mind while reading. Sorry it took so long. I hope you like your matchups!

In Genshin Impact, I match you with...

Itto probably won’t even notice your disability until it’s pointed out to him. It’s not that he’s completely blind. He knows you’re in a wheelchair. But he’s so focused on the sort of person you are that he doesn’t even consider you “different”.

Honestly, he’s probably your biggest cheerleader. Itto’s very supportive of you as a person and your hobbies.

Itto would enjoy watching anime with you. I think he enjoys energy filled, action shows but he’s more than happy to settle into a rom-com as well. Just be prepared to comfort him if anything sad happens.

Loves watching you draw. I don’t see Itto as someone with good artistic skills so he thinks all of your creations are amazing.

Super funny! Itto will be cracking jokes left, right, and centre. He loves hearing you laugh, and it’s even better when he’s the cause.

For an alternate matchup, I would likely say Mika. I think you’d get along well though he’s not sure about horror.

In Honkai Star Rail, I match you with...

Much like Itto, Sampo would be your biggest cheerleader. He’s going to support all of your endeavours and will give you words of encouragement when you’re feeling down.

He is aware of your disability and all it entails so he’ll be great at supporting you. Need him to get something that’s out of reach? He’s on it. Want him to come to the doctor with you? Of course he’ll be there!

Sampo claims to enjoy watching horror movies with you but in reality he’s going to be clinging onto your arm and sleeping with the lights on for a few nights afterwards.

He’s much more into anime and is happy to watch anything you sit him down in front of. I see Sampo as someone he likes shows that are a balance between action and rom-com.

Also enjoys making you laugh. I see one of Sampo’s main love languages as making his partner happy, whatever form that takes.

For an alternate matchup, I would say Caelus. He’ll be very supportive but isn’t as likely to make you laugh as Sampo is.

In One Piece, I match you with...

Rounding out your matchups with a third and final supportive partner. Luffy doesn’t have a single unsupportive bone in his body so you can bet he’s going to be cheering you on for even something as simple as waking up in the morning.

Enjoys watching you draw but struggles to sit still for too long. If he can do something while watching you be creative, he’d like that very much.

In the same sense, Luffy would enjoy watching horror movies or anime with you but he has to be doing something else at the same time, for both your sakes.

Luffy’s always making you laugh, whether it’s intentional or not. Sometimes he makes a concerted effort to bring your spirits up, other times he’s just being Luffy without a care in the world.

Is aware of your disability but thinks you’re even more amazing for it. He’s not one to think people who are disabled are any less capable of being wonderful people, even if there are certain things you can’t do.

This was actually a very close second but as your alternate matchup I would pair you with Sanji. He’s equally as supportive as Luffy but can be a bit smothering at times.

#writing #fanfic #matchup #matchup request #request #genshin impact #arataki itto #honkai star rail #sampo koski #one piece #monkey d. luffy

[roodllle]

Ok so I know I said I was going to write “reasons Marika sucks speech” post a few months ago but anyways here it finally is

Now I’m also going to be interchanging Marika with the Greater Will sometimes since the GW choose her to like....rule 5ever so I’m just going to assume they were both on the same page. And now the Greater Will controls the Erdtree, slightly, so I’ll be interchanging with that too sometimes.

There’s going to be different segments to this, like different groups that give me evidence as to why Marika is kind of a beach, here we go:

The Gloam Eyed Queen and the Godskins could *kill* gods/people with the Black Flame (Not just kill people and have them reincarnate back from the tree, like no your soul is gone baby) and the GE Queen was an empyrean, the GW was cool with her!! They were cool with her having death powers!! And yet Marika/Maliketh killed her and lessened the power of the Black Flame so that Marika had no more outside competition, she wants to rule forever and have her cake and eat it to god damnit. And this shows so much with her own kids. How Ranni and Marika seemed to actually work together and at the same Godwyn was Marika’s most “beloved” son yet he gets the boot

Gonna go deeper with this one. I feel like people mostly focus on how a divorce messed up the Carian Royal family, but no one really talks about poor Godwyn. His dad gets kicked out, his mom makes him go fight against the dragons but finds out one is chill and befriends the dragons. And then he gets to be the one assassinated and his dragons also later on get fucked over. Maybe Ranni ordered it and then the Black Knives turn on her later OR maybe Marika did order it OR the Black Knives just spun a wheel to see who would be killed but...now Godwyn is the thing Marika hates the most, he is the Prince of Death. Which is something Marika seems to be afraid of and Marika alone.

After Godwyn we are going to move on to poor Miquella and his blade Malenia. I’m gonna be honest I don’t have a lot of meat to talk about these two. I just think its funny how Miquella wanted to cure their ails and even after Radagon did try to show his son what the Golden Order could do, it wasn’t enough so Miquella went to make his own tree. I’m not saying Marika didn’t care about her kids, I just think its amusing that she had 5 kids and 4 were 2 sets of twins, one pair being literally by definition Unwanted and another pair that is so cursed, like we don’t see any other sign of being unable to age or contact Rot. (I know Rot is another outer God but it seemed to have backed off when the GW arrived and Millicent and her sisters are all from Malenia).

Kenneth Haight, my beloved!! His whole quest being an implication that hating on non-humans did not come from royalty. And how the Erdtree’s light makes people chill with each other, why was the solution not to have everyone live under the light off the Erdtree?

Isn’t it messed up how Godfrey did a lot of the hard work and then became the first person to get kicked out. Oh! And the same thing happened to her own shadow Maliketh

This is where it gets tricky bc I’m about to talk about the whole Marika Radagon...thing

ok I’m in the camp of Radagon and Marika used to be one but they split at some point

(My theory is that Marika after dealing with the Fire Giants was cursed but she couldnt afford it so she split herself)

So Radagon becomes his own person, falls in love with Rennala have 3 beautiful children WHO ALL GO INTO SORCERY BTW ye all 3 have RED hair and Radahn looks up to his dad + Godfrey but they all went into sorcery and became masters of their own form in their own way like !!! they loved their momma

But then Godfrey gets the boot and since I guess no one else wanted to marry Marika, she calls over her male self since the world can’t go on without an Elden Lord

Radagon feels terrible so he leaves his wolves to guard his wife and hides his affections for her by remaking Rennala’s sword to look like one of the Order.

Bottomline: my main dislike for Marika comes from how her and the GW wanted to basically kick out almost everyone. The Fire Giants bc their flame could burn the Erdtree even tho the Erdtree and the Fire Giants were living peacefully beforehand. Also I love the fact that fire is actually needed to solve this Elden Ring conundrum. How the Demi-Humans, Omen, and Misbegottens were #HereFirst. The Albenarquics get treated like shit and couldn’t even join the Haligtree (maybe Miquella was influenced by Marika still) And Moon believers couldn’t even worship a physical rock in space without being told off and thrown underground. And what even determines who gets grace and who doesn’t, it’s not like this isn’t some luck of the draw thing. No, the grace is given by the Erdtree/Greater Will/Marika so what is their deal??

And then the audacity to call them all back because Marika wants to be able to do what she wants without giving up rule while everyone in The Lands Between suffers for it

Ugh ok, if you read this whole thing, thank you for putting up with my brain and thank you for reading. I just want to state as well that this is just my theory and ofc you have the right to disagree and post.

#roodle speaks #elden ring #marika #marika the eternal #godfrey the first elden lord #godwyn the golden #godwyn the prince of death #greater will #erdtree #gloam eyed queen #lunar princess ranni #miquella the unalloyed #malenia blade of miquella #kenneth haight #maliketh the black blade #radagon of the golden order

[thenextcelestialchapter]

TWILIGHT PRINCESS FINAL VOLUME SPOILERS!!!

I READ THE WHOLE THING LAST NIGHT OF COURSE AND IT WAS AMAZING like there was a couple decisions here and there that I wasn’t so totally hype about but they still made sense enough but otherwise HYPE HYPE HYYYYYYYYYPE~~~!

For example I didn’t totally looooooove how it ended implying the shipping between Shad and Ilia... But admittedly only bc I’m biased and I shipped Shad with Zelda long ago. But it makes sense that canonically Shad cannot be courageous enough to ask out a princess as a simple scholar, in a fanfic sure but in canon he of course can’t and also they didn’t really get any chance to meet/mingle much in the manga BUT I think if they did Shad/TP!Zelda would definitely make a match~ X3 But as they are in this manga, the implied Shad/Ilia at the end isn’t the worst, at least Ilia isn’t left lonely, but yeah, me craves a more exciting romance!

Thankfully it delivers us at least one page of that lol and omfg YAAAAAAAAAS LINK THE HERO FINALLY GETS HIS PROPER HERO’S REWARD!! I mean kinda Midna had to be sassy about it at first of course but AAAAAH so satisfying to finally see Link get a canon kiss from someone, even if it is a sad farewell kiss too... T_T!!! AAAAAAH POOR LINK come ooooon Midna would it have ended the world if he came with you?? Eh, maybe, actually... XD;;

And I can’t say much for the action of the final battle since action in manga generally just doesn’t do as much for me as seeing it animated but I will say I at least really enjoyed the exchange between Ganondorf and Link and Zelda after the battle, because they made a few things clear that maybe wasn’t so clear in the original game. Like in the game it was kinda unclear at the end bc it showed Zant at that moment and kinda made it confusing, kinda implying Zant killed Ganondorf in revenge, but ofc that would be stupid unbelievable for Noodle boy to do that to Big G, and this time in the manga they don’t even show Zant in that scene at all, he’s already done-zo. They make it clear thru Zelda herself that Ganondorf snuffed himself out, but also there’s this look in her eyes when she says it, like she’s stating a fact but one she knows is only a fact for now, she knows he’s not truly dead, but dormant. She knows the next version of her is gonna have one HELL of a time with this bastard...

And IDK personally I just think it’s funny too, if I’m reading right, that Link was basically like, “Okay I’ve put a sword through your chest but like I don’t wanna TOTALLY kill you bc like after all that would make the side of light seem just as bad as evil and since we’re all in this Triforce together our infinite battle is just the order and balance of this world and thus it cannot end...” And Ganondorf is basically like, “FUCK YO HARMONY BITCH” right back at him lmfaoooo xD And then right before he HURRKs himself he tells Zelda “C ya later sweetie~” so yeah that’s why we/she knows he’s not gone for good... Maybe setting up future Breath of the Wild manga??!!?! PLEASE AND LETS GOOOOOOO~! XD

#twilight princess #twilight princess manga #spoilers

[satankilledmyghost]

springtime heathen - jake ji x reader

a/n: it’s 9:23 pm and there’s a frikin LADYBUG ZOOMING ACROSS MY ROOM REPEATEDLY RUNNING INTO MY CEILING FAN LIGHT AND IT WONT DUCKING STOP AND I CAN HEAR THE CLINK EVERY TIME IT HITS THE LIGHT BULB- and then this idea popped into my head :)

idk where i went with this. i never had an “end goal” so it’s kinda all over the place.

warnings: swearing, reader gets scared by a bug, female reader

not edited.

“Hell no!” You screeched, leaping out of the kitchen. You were making a cake in your kitchen not even a full minute ago and now you’re running for your life.

You were mixing your batter when you realized that it needed a bit more flour. You, being the person that you are, had put the flour back in the pantry so you went to retrieve it. When you opened the door, you heard a small buzzing sound right next to your ear and you screamed, ducking down with your hands flying to your hair.

You desperately ruffled your hair, viciously scratching at your scalp, praying that whatever the hell flew by did just that and not decided to take pit stop on your head.

Once you established that your head was okay, you stood up and spun around, trying to find the culprit.

Nothing. You saw nothing and it freaked the hell out if you.

You never were a fan of bugs. Sure, you appreciated and respected what the did to the ecosystem, but you were terrified of them- especially when they were inside.

Making sure that there was nothing flying about, you grabbed the flour and continued on baking your cake.

You had nearly forgotten about your little kitchen friend until you stood up from putting the cake pans into the oven. You froze and stood there, unmoving.

The ladybug was harmless- you knew this. You also knew that that wasn’t a real ladybug, it was one of those imposter types. But still, it was a bug. In your kitchen. Inside.

You felt your heart pumping furiously, pressuring you to move- to do something. You eyed your shoes that were thrown carelessly into the corner only a few steps away from you. You had made it almost all the way there before the ladybug opened its wings and flew straight at you.

Cursing, you had bolted out of the kitchen. You ran into the living room and jumped onto your couch. You turned and surveyed what you could see of the kitchen from where you stood on the couch cousin.

You could still see the ladybug flying across the kitchen. But now, it wasn’t landing anywhere. It was just going in circles.

What the fuck am I supposed to do? I cant go back in there! You thought, but an idea popped in to your head and you were already taking out your phone and dialing his number before you could rationalize anything.

It took three rings for Jake to pick up, his cheery voice helping your thundering blood flow just a little bit. “Hey babe! What’s-”

“Jake. There’s a bug and it’s flying around in the kitchen and I can’t get it and I need you to come over and kill it please for the love of god kill it.” You rushed out, completely ignoring your boyfriends greeting.

The line was silent for a moment before you heard Jake again. “I’m sorry- what??” You sighed and pinched your nose. “Jake. There’s a bug. You’re coming over and killing the damn thing because I don’t want to go near it.” You slowed down your speech so you could make sure that Jake understood you.

You heard his laugh over the phone. “Jake! This isn’t funny! Please come over. I have cakes in the oven and I’m not stepping foot into that kitchen until you get your ass over here and kill the bug!”

At the mention of cake, you heard Jake’s laugh die down a bit. “Okay, okay. I’m on my way. I’ll be there in five minutes, alright? Just hold on and calm down. There’s nothing to be scared of. It’s just a bug.” You sighed in relief at Jake’s words.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll see you soon.” You say before you hang up, choosing to spend the next five minutes watching the bug. The ladybug didn’t do anything interesting, it just flew about until it decided it had enough and landed on the floor somewhere.

With curiosity getting the best of you, you had creeped into the kitchen just to pinpoint where the bug landed, but it deciding to fly towards your face again had you back on the couch, desperately waiting for Jake to arrive.

Two more minutes passed before you heard your door opening and saw the familiar ginger waltz his way into your home a few seconds later. “Oh thank god! That thing is the devil and it keeps chasing me out of the kitchen.” “Well hello to you too.” Jake snorts, stopping in the middle of the room to look at you.

“Why the hell are you standing on the couch?” Jake asks. You looked down and gave him an incredulous look. “To keep watch on the ladybug. I don’t know where it’s going, and I sure as hell don’t want it to fly in here without me knowing-” You were cut off by Jake’s boisterous laugh.

He was doubling over in laughter, clutching his stomach. “You called me over here to kill a ladybug?! That’s what got you so scared?”

You stood there, absolutely bewildered and in shock at your boyfriends words. You crossed your arms and prepared to defend yourself, but Jake beat you to it.

Smiling he took your hand and helped you down. “Don’t worry about it, I’m just teasing you. Now let’s go kill this big, bad ladybug.” He giggled, walking into the kitchen with you right behind him, pointing to where you last saw the thing land.

And you were right, the bug hadn’t moved and was chillin on the floor again. Jake released your hand and crouched down right next to it.

“Hello ladybug. I’ve heard that you’ve been scaring my girlfriend and chasing her out of the kitchen. I hate to break it to you, but I’m the only one that can do the scaring around here. Now, you either move yourself out or I’ll kill you. Which fate do you choose?” Jake gave the bug a moment of silence, as if he was expecting it to respond.

After a few seconds, he scoffed. “Well, if that’s how you’re going to be, then it was nice knowing ya.” You both heard the crunch when Jake stepped on the bug, you shuddering in disgust and relief. Jake stood up and turned to you, “Well, the fiend is gone, m’lady.”

You shoved him in response to his teasing, “Thank you, Jake. Seriously. I fucking hate bugs.” You said, looking up at him.

Jake just hummed and grabbed your wrist, pulling you out of the kitchen. “Jake! What the hell are you doing??”

“Well, I need some type of payback, and since I haven’t seen you in a couple of days, we’re going to you room.” Jake smirked back at you as he took you into your bedroom, pulling you down with him onto your bed.

Making sure to shove off his shoes before he readjusted himself, Jake held you close to him. Your head was under his chin as his arms wrapped around you. You found yourself doing the same, closing your eyes and succumbing to the peaceful silence.

Before long, you two had fallen asleep. Only to be awoken by the smell of something burning from the kitchen….

a/n: update, i have killed the ladybug. it cannot reign terror over me anymore.

#jake ji #weak hero #weak hero webtoon #weak hero x reader #shitposting

[because-she-goes]

aphrodite’s rage

warnings: swearing, nora being angry, drugs (weed), breakup. Enjoy!

author’s note: meet nora! can’t wait for everyone to see more of her :) Also, sorry about the song change, just thought this fit nora and matty’s story and plus george produced it!

“Nora, don’t be ridiculous! We’re good, we’re us. I still love you.”

“But thats the thing Derek, I don’t. You don’t value me, you don’t even let me talk about my job for gods sake! All we do is sit around and talk about you, your needs, your wants. Well, what about what I want hmm? Has that even crossed your mind for a second in our relationship? Have you ever for even a minute not thought about you?” Nora’s voice echoes around the apartment, voice as sweet as ambrosia, but tongue sharp enough to wound the devil. It has been exactly 19 days since she came home from Vegas, from Matty.

Oh Matty. The only person to make her feel seen, heard and understood. The only person to make her feel like a human again. The only person to actually love her.

“This is about him, isn’t it? That guy you met on your trip?” Derek dares, Matty’s name alone enough to strike fear in his veins. Derek doesn’t dare say it.

“So, what the fuck if it is, Derek? So what if I felt special for once? So, what if it somebody made me feel good enough for once? Hmmm answer me when I talk to you!” She spits back at him. A wildfire in her eyes. “Derek, I need you to get this through your thick, dull skull. I don’t love you. I haven’t for awhile.” She thunders.

He stands and looks at her, not a thought behind his eyes. Just a big, dumb idiot. Why did she even fall for this oaf, she thinks. He couldn’t be more opposite than Matty. Matty, she sighs again. Sweet, caring, spontaneous, funny, smart, interesting, fashionable and a menace with the smile of a saint. Nora shivers at the memory of him in that suit the night in vegas, goosebumps flood her skin.

“Matty… if you can even stomach his name… is the greatest person who has ever come into my life, you dick!” Continuing to reign hellfire on her now bumbling boyfriend.

“Oh please, Nora get real! He (Derek still refusing to say his name) just met you like two weeks ago and I have known you since you were 20.” He tries to reason with her, seeing her slip away.

“Hey dipshit, people change! If you think I am still the same young, naive, stoned-out-of-her-mind girl from all those years ago then you are more hopeless than I thought.” Her words like venom. “Derek, may these be the last words I ever have to say to you: we are over.” The final words getting lodged in his psyche. Haunting him.

And with that, she grabs her stuff and walks out of the apartment head held high. She’ll have movers come get her stuff tomorrow and get it to her apartment in Brooklyn.

Stepping out, she inhales the new sense of freedom that surrounds her. Taking out the celebratory joint she kept hidden in her tote bag, she lights up and makes her way towards Walt Whitman park. Puffing on the herb as she struts down the street, she feels reborn. A new, fresh woman. One totally disconnected from her old life, Derek being the final string to it. Derek being the only thing tugging her back in life, towards childish things. He never did understand her now thinking about it. He never got her desire for a career, always telling her she had him to fall back on and not seeing any issue with her being totally dependent on him. He never got her taste in music or her new friends, always suggesting they hang out with people from high school - people who may as well have been taking bets on her downfall and selling tickets to her demise. Her only thought regarding those people, and now Derek was fuck ‘em.

Joint now halfway gone and Nora’s head feeling light and hazy, she gets to the park. Deciding to sit on an empty patch of the lawn and finish her celebration. Digging in her tote bag, finding her phone. Going through her texts she finds one from Matty from two days ago when he got back to the UK. Checking the time, its 7pm in London.

One ring, then two.

“Hey Nor, whats up?” He asks, voice perfectly husky. She relaxes and melts at the pet name.

“Guess who is a free woman, Handsome?” His heart stops. Smile erupting across his face.

“No way, gorgeous. You finally did it?”

“Just got finished, think he is still shell shocked. Now celebrating.”

“As you should. He seemed like a fucking twat anyways.” He remarks.

“I think you’d like to know he couldn’t even say your name. Couldn’t even stomach me saying it.” She tells him, he smirks on the other end of the phone.

“Can’t believe you even liked him, honey. Sounds like a total wanker.”

“Trust me, he is. Anyways, I don’t have much tying to me to New York now and I’m sure I can find a place in London to work out of. Was gonna take a flight there next week and shack up in a hotel-“

“Or, you could stay with me. Save the money plus you could wake and bake with me.” He offers, smiling at the idea of waking up with her every day, of playing house.

“You got yourself a deal, Healy. But, no funny business mister! I’m single, I wanna have fun for a bit.”

“Oh trust me darling, you haven’t known fun until you’ve been in London at night.” He reassures, mouth salivating over the thought of her in a club dress and running around with him at night. Fuck, he is a goner.

The next day, Nora books a one-way flight to London and starts shopping, trying to pick things she deems as being especially tantalizing, deciding she is gonna torture Matty for however long she is there. A mischievous giggle leaves her throat, oh this is gonna be fun.

— 1 week later —

The double decker plane touches down in Heathrow airport. It is late and Nora slept terribly on the flight. Texting Matty that she landed safely and giving him the arrival information, she stands up to grab her overhead bag. Her hoodie comforting her and baggy sweatpants pool at her ankles. She pulls her headphones around her neck as she walks in the direction of checked luggage and grabbing her suitcases. Next is customs, thanking the lord she didn’t pack any weed betting on Matty having a full stock at his house. The customs officer asks her if she’s staying for business or pleasure and she responds by pausing and then decidedly saying pleasure and adding that she got a visitor’s visa approved by the UK embassy in New York last week. He nods sternly and confirms that yes, she did. Stamping the US passport and sending her on her way to the pickup location.

In the crowd of families reuniting, soldiers rushing to their partners, siblings hugging and lovers kissing she spots a card.

“Thee Ms. Nora Downey.”

The man behind the sign looks positively drool worthy. First off, he has stubble that dances across his defined jaw accentuating his features. Secondly, he’s wearing an old Yankees hat low hiding his eyes from anyone who may recognize them and as a way to tease Nora, fully knowing she prefers the Mets. Third, he’s wearing a tight crisp white shirt letting his iconic tattoos creep out from the hems and sleeves hugging his defined biceps. Finally, she sees a pair of baby blue adidas track pants hang low from his waist with a pair of battered gazelles. If she could jump him, she would. She composes herself, trying to get her voice to be even when she greets him.

From his view, she could not look any cuter. Hoodie tied at the neck, brunette hair creeping out from underneath and black headphones cover her neck. He makes a note to himself to litter it with hickeys at some point during her trip. Her grey sweatpants adorably too long for her frame and black sambas barely visible. She softly smiles at him as the escalator descends, her nerves increasing at he grows closer. He reciprocates.

Finally being within arms reach of her, he pulls her to his chest. Wrapping his arms around her and breathing in her perfume - coffee and vanilla with a little smoke - he hums. Content to have his favorite girl in his town and getting to be her personal tour guide for however long he is lucky enough to have her. He already scheduled for them to go on a guided tour of the Tate Modern tomorrow night and grab some dinner. The guys were gonna meet her in a couple days - Adam being the most eager since he was a fan of her work.

Her head is tucked into his shoulder, smiling ear to ear as she feels his shoulder relax under her arms. She breathes calmly - smelling the lavender and mint cologne she has come to love. She marvels at the fact that she was ready to go to bed just 45 minutes ago when she landed, but now feeling wide awake in his presence.

“Hi, honey. Missed you, can’t wait to show you just how…fun… I can be.” He smirks, ready to be just the most enchanting version of himself.

“Oh, you’re on, Handsome. I was born to be…fun.” She teases, mirroring his smirk.

She feels him shudder. Oh she’s got this in the bag.

#matty x nora #drew’s writing :) #matty healy #the 1975 #matty healy fanfic #WOMEN! #Spotify

[thelazyhermits]

Gonna talk about the Yuu & Scarabia dynamic underneath the cut

I mentioned before that Yuu would have a good dynamic with Savanaclaw since I thought her personality would mesh well with those guys, and I also feel the same way about the Scarabia guys, whom I wanted to talk about here since their dorm is another favorite of mine.

For starters, Yuu absolutely adores Kalim cause he’s adorable and literal sunshine incarnate, literally one of the sweetest guys she has ever met in her entire life, which truthfully isn’t really saying much because she grew up surrounded by villianous people but still lol

Kalim is the first student Yuu interacts with at NRC because, during the ceremony, she helped him out when Grim set his butt on fire because she just couldn’t just leave the poor guy alone.

She was surprised by how kind/friendly he was toward her. Sure, she helped put the fire out, but because of the people she’s used to being around, she really wasn’t expecting much thanks.

What really caught her off guard was how bright/warm his smile was. It was something she was only used to seeing in her visions of All Might & Midoriya. 

Needless to say, it didn’t take long for Kalim to become one of Yuu’s favorite people on campus. She just couldn’t help but be drawn to him since she was so unused to kind people like him who treated her like she actually mattered - like she was someone he actually enjoyed being around.

Because of how he is, Kalim takes an immediate liking to Yuu and always approaches her whenever he sees her, even if it’s just to chat for a few minutes.

Hanging out with her makes him happy since he can tell she’s happy whenever he’s around, and it’s not because of what he could do for her with his vast wealth.

Yuu just likes being around him because she likes him as a person. All she sees is Kalim, not the son of a wealthy merchant family.

Yuu doesn’t even realize how rich he is until Book 4, but even after learning it, she doesn’t care since money doesn’t matter to her. However, she does freak out anytime he tries to give her something expensive or whenever he makes a comment related to careless spending since her penny-pincher heart can’t handle it lol 😂

Kalim also likes how Yuu doesn’t mind when he’s physically affectionate with her. Rather, she welcomes the physical contact since she’s touch-starved. He doesn’t know that, but Kalim does eventually come to the sad conclusion that she doesn’t normally get that kind of affection after spending enough time with her, which just makes him wanna dote on her even more.

The Yuu & Kalim relationship is just really soft and pure. Their combined sunshine energy is powerful enough to blind anyone watching them if they’re not careful lol Jamil is completely immune though since he’s used to it haha

Another funny aspect of this relationship is I like the idea of Yuu starting to having visions about Kalim after Book 4′s events. They don’t happen all the time, but occasionally, her Quirk will show her whenever Kalim gets into trouble which leads to her warning Jamil ahead of time or her trying to get to Kalim before he does something he shouldn’t lol

This leads to Yuu experiencing just what a tough job Jamil has, so she really respects him for all the work he has to do day in and day out. 

Of course, that doesn’t mean Yuu was okay with Book 4′s events. She definitely did not approve of him using his UM on her or what he had planned to do to Kalim.

Sure, she understood where Jamil was coming from after hearing the whole story, but she thought his hatred was misplaced since Kalim really didn’t deserve the brunt of it.

Which is why Yuu helped put an end to Jamil’s plan and made sure to punch him at the end of the Overblot battle lol

However, Yuu doesn’t hold a grudge against Jamil for everything that happened. She gets everything off her chest during the battle, so she just treats him normally after the Overblot and doesn’t view him in a negative light like most people would. 

This surprises Jamil and makes him suspicious since he doesn’t understand why she has no issue talking to him after everything he did. Her actions just don’t make any sense.

This is why Yuu decides to tell Jamil about her past. Up until this point, she has mostly kept it a secret and hasn’t told anyone about her being a cage fighter since she didn’t want anyone to look at her with pity or treat her any differently after learning about her horrible past.

The reason Yuu picks Jamil, of all people, despite not even being super close to him, is because she sees similarities between the two of them because she basically grew up being treated like a slave/servant. Either she was being forced to fight to make money for Mumei or she was forced to do all the cooking/cleaning at home. 

Before coming to TW, she didn't really have any freedom, so she could understand where Jamil was coming from in Book 4 even if she didn't completely agree with his methods since she knew Kalim was nothing like Mumei and shouldn't be receiving the full brunt of Jamil's hatred/anger. 

Yuu tells Jamil about her past so he'll know that her treatment of him isn’t because she's really nice/a saint. It's because she doesn't think anyone is irredeemable. At least, she hopes they aren't. Otherwise, she's just as bad as him since she did plenty of things to survive that she regrets, so she doesn't see herself as being any better than him. 

So, out of all the guys, Jamil has the most info about her past, with Leona likely being second since he's so observant and pays attention to the things she says that hint toward her past.

(As far as why Yuu is doing this, it’s because she genuinely wants to become friends with Jamil. While they didn’t have a lot of interactions prior to Book 4, Yuu still had come to like him as a person since he had helped her with her studying for her final exams, and he had never been overly rude toward her.

Plus, there was just something about the way Jamil held himself that drew Yuu’s attention to him. Something about him felt familiar, and it wasn’t until learning about his past that she realized she was seeing similiaries between the two of them because his mannerisms sometimes reminded her of how she acted around Mumei in the past.

It was while Yuu was staying at the Scarabia dorm in Book 4 that she really started to get to know Jamil. There was some apprehension on her end since her Quirk had warned her about his UM and his future Overblot after she had gotten herself trapped at the dorm. 

However, despite this, it was hard for her to be completley wary of Jamil since there were moments when he’d be genuinely nice to her, like during the training in the dessert when Jamily scolded her for giving most of her water to Grim and made her drink his to keep herself hydrated while they were running. 

Throughout the whole experience, Yuu would get glimpses of the different sides of Jamil, so it was hard for her to come to hate him when she found out about his true plans for Kalim. 

That’s why, after getting out all those negative emotions she felt during the Overblot battle, Yuu decided that she wanted to properly befriend Jamil, so she could see what kind of person he truly was.)

Another reason Yuu felt comfortable telling Jamil about her past is because she didn’t think he would treat her any differently. She didn’t think he would give her special treatment, and she was right.

If Jamil were in her shoes, he wouldn’t want any special treatment either, just as he doesn’t want people treating him any differently after hearing all the details about his past, so he just treats her how he’d want to be treated.

However, that said, Jamil does become slightly softer toward her, not out of pity but because she becomes someone he feels truly comfortable around since she gets where he’s coming from. Sure, she hasn’t gone through everything he has, but she at least has a better idea as compared to most people.

Also, it really impacts him when he learns that he’s the only person that Yuu has fully confided in about her past. Of all the people to get trusted with that kind of information, Jamil never expected someone like him to be chosen.

Sure, it was because of the similarities between their pasts, but the fact that she still trusted him with that information after everything he had done just really threw him for a loop.

It still takes a little while for Jamil to completetly stop himself from being suspicious of Yuu when she approaches him without ill intentions, but eventually, he comes to trust in her words of wanting to become friends with him.

After spending enough time with her, a lot of which involves Yuu volunteering to help him with chores or her just taking a moment to talk to him since she wanted to hang out with him for a little bit when he’s not super busy, Jamil grows fond enough of her that he starts to look after her like he does Kalim.

Obviously, his top priority is Kalim, but if he ever notices something going on with Yuu when he has a free moment, he’ll subtlely check on her. Or if he thinks she needs a break, he’ll invite her over to the Scarabia dorm, either to cook with him or have fun with Kalim who always welcomes her visits. 

One funny aspect of this relationship is that Yuu is very generous with compliments. She’s the type that if she has something nice to say about someone she typically says it and won’t get embarrassed even if it involves complimenting someone’s appearance.

So she’s often telling Jamil how much she admires his many skills/talents and has brought up many times how pretty/handsome she thinks he is. 

Jamil really wishes she would stop cause he is not used to all this positive attention which can be really embarrassing since she has completely pure motives lol However, deep down, he definitely enjoys the praise; he just won’t admit it haha

#TABF AU #fortune in twisted wonderland #I love scarabia #kalim is a precious ball of sunshine who needs to be protected at all costs #and I've become very fond of jamil which I did not expect lol #scarabia's probably my next favorite after savanaclaw #and I guess ignihyde is after them #cause I really love idia & ortho

[smvkedd]

• • • bad reputation by joan jetts and the blackhearts : spotted! if it isn’t eigenia ' efi ' castro walking through the streets of nyc . people say she looks like camila mendes , but i really don’t see it . the twenty - nine year old **reality tv star ** is out here making mommy and daddy proud . while they have been known to be + headstrong , we’ve all seen their - ruthless nature come to light . sources tell me they remind people of the popping of the cork from freshly opened champagne , smeared red lipstick on the rim of a glass , dancing in a heart of burning fire . / ciswoman / she & her.

efigana had been born into a poorer family . her mother worked as a door to door makeup sales woman and her father was a janitor at her local high school . efi had never been embarrassed or ashamed of her life . far from it . but she also always had the feeling she was destined for more than that . would cut out pieces from magazines and scrapbook her dream home , dream husband , dream wedding , dream life . of course she had been young and hadn't quite known what her options could look like so her dream was to marry rich .

efi used to be a little girl with a kind heart . it wasn't until high school that she hardened up . she was proud her dad was working there , had been excited to see him in the halls . until she saw the way kids treated him , treated her just because he was her dad . she knew he didn't deserve that . there was one group of instigators particularly . one day they thought it'd be funny to pull a harmless little prank involving buckets of water and dish soap on the floor . that harmless little prank caused her dad to fall and damage his knee , enough that he couldn't work such a physically demanding job anymore . efi was resourceful and now angry and bitter , she exacted her revenge . an anonymous tip off and coke planted in the lockers later and the kids were expelled , parents called , everyone thought they were guilty . and in efi's mind they were . just of the wrong crime .

when she turned eighteen she downloaded instagram . she was vain enough to love taking photos of herself so thought why not , it was just a fun little app . at first it was innocent but then efi started to realise the inner workings of it . the more scantily clad wearing nothing type of pictures got girls a shit tonne more likes . so that's what she did . she wasn't expecting to blow up , but she'd gone from a nothing and nobody to an influencer overnight . she'd learned how to fake it pretty quickly . how to make it look like she was at an exclusive club right from her own bedroom . and soon she didn't have to fake it anymore . she went from having nothing to money rolling in . enough for her to take care of her family , buy them a house while still living a lavish life . only fans is what brought in her big bucks . she was on that app as soon as she found out about it and found it crazy what people were willing to pay to see her boobs . she wasn't ashamed of it either .

she's since gone on to do multiple reality shows and is in the talks of having her own one . she was a love / hate personality among many . mostly because she didn't shy away from drama and would do whatever she wanted to suit herself . she would talk shit on podcasts and post a picture with the same person she'd just talked shit about that night at a club . she'd learned long ago how to only look out for no . 1 , too scarred from a past of hurt to ever let anyone else get close .