#i can't. ive been sitting with this in my drafts for Too Long

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Treasures of the Fraud

♡ featuring: pantalone x f!reader

♡ summary: it's been forever since you've seen your friend, and as the hero of liyue, a new interruption has arisen. you pursue it, only to find memories awaiting you. wc: 9.1k+ (D:)

♡ cw/tw: long lonnggg fic, obsession, mentions of murder, mention of suicide, mentions of blood, manipulation, toxic pantalone, mean pantalone, possessive, spanking, degradation, mild praise, fingering, thigh riding, missionary, overstim, begging, edging, comeshot, pet names (darling, slut)

notes: helloooo!! ive been slow to get stuff out college is kicking my ass rn so sorry. not proofread so i apologize for any mistakes. I can't wait to have more time :) art by yion_yi on ig! <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

12 years ago 

“Come get me!” 

The boy with inky curls spiraling down his back dips through trees, ducking under low hanging branches embellished with vibrant autumn foliage. Messy blends of pink and purple melt across the slowly bleeding sun carried into the night. His silhouette resembles that of a malevolent spirit peeking behind the boughs, leaping over tangled twigs and shallow ditches. His excited screeches signal you to chase after the leading direction. You’re both screaming and laughing down the undoubtedly dangerous shortcuts. If your mother knew about the adventurous risks you were taking at 13, you’d never leave the house again. Tag is a troubling game—despite the thousands of times you’ve played with him, you regularly end up being “it”. You don’t care about losing, though; having someone to call a friend is enough.  

You turn into a clearing with columns of trees overseeing your small presence, hundreds of them. The colder night is rising, not a celestial body to shield.  In this deep blue void, the leaves seem to be aggrieved at your interruption of some secret meeting, angry and smiling faces crumpling in the whispering wind. You spin around frantically, looking for signs or laughter, but neither reveal themself. It’s quiet besides the downy linger of grass. Your shoulders are snatched back and shaken to a rattling shock. You scream, and he laughs. 

“Rahhh! Did I get you?” he jests. Your eyebrows narrow, and you push him lightly to a stumble. 

“You scared me!” 

“Hah, that’s the point. C’mon, it’s late. Let’s go.” He's scared too, swiftly grabbing your hand as you both brave the darkness back to the village. 

“We should’ve been home a while ago” you say quietly. You feel the chill in your bones and press yourself closer to him. 

“Yea.” He holds your hand tighter at the sound of a small rock bouncing down a steep hill. 

“I had fun today. Let’s do this again tomorrow.” 

“I have something to tell you.” 

“Okay.” 

“I’m moving in the morning” he states. It was nonchalant, but your stomach turns a churning sickness. One you can’t understand yet, it makes you uneasy. 

“Oh. Okay, then.” It isn't okay, not in the slightest. But it had to be. Your best friend of 8 years looks at you, aiming to register the gravity of the situation. You both say nothing, but tears start to brim in your eyes in the silence. You wipe them with your arm. 

“Will you miss me?” he asks. 

“A lot.” 

“I’ll miss you too. Lots and lots.” He sways your interlocking hands. You pass by vacant homes tattered and aged by abandonment, overgrown with invading ivy. Homeless reside, caring each other to warmth from the freezing draft. You were lucky to have a home in this little forgotten sector of Liyue. It's a small, unfortunate room, with holes in the roof that drips when it rains and bags over the windows to keep the heat in. The stove never works, and you share a bed with your mother, but every birthday she makes sure to save just enough for a slice of cake with one candle. There isn’t more you could ask for. Everyone in the village suffered from poverty but they made it work, sharing crops and dairy to persevere until the next year. That’s how you met him, sitting on a rock as your mother collected rations. You perform two pebbles in your hands, mumbling sea shanties while imagining voyage on a grueling journey—he sat next to you. 

“Those aren’t dolls. They’re rocks.” 

“You’re a rock” you retorted.  

“No, I’m not.” 

“Do you want to be a rock?” 

“...That’d be kinda cool.” You gave him a pile of pebbles, and he joined the trip. 

You’re getting closer to the village, still processing who you’ll play with once he’s gone. You glance at him, he’s spaced out in a faraway stare. You crave the power to read minds. 

“Can we talk about something? I’m getting sad” you sniffle. 

“What should be talk about?” 

“What are you going to do after you move?” 

“I’m gonna be super rich” he assures, looking up at the starless sky as if a meteor would shoot across and grant his wish. “What about you?” 

“I’m going to save the world” you proclaim.  

“Cool. I hope you do.” 

“Me too.” 

You arrive at your makeshift door drawn together with scraps of wood and twisted rope for hinges. A dim candle glimmers inside, most likely your vexed mother waiting for your tardily return. He makes space for your entry, and you undo your hands for the last time. Before you go, he snatches your wrist. His eyes are foggy, cheeks an anxious tinge of pink. He isn’t sure what he’s feeling, but the strings in his heart are tense. His mouth shapes to say something, but nothing returns. 

“Yeah?” 

“...I... I’ll really miss you a lot” he whispers with a lump in his throat.  

“Then don’t forget me, okay?” 

“I won’t.” 

“You promise?” you say and raise your pinky towards him. He curls around it. “I promise.” 

“Good. By the way, you’re it now.” 

“I’ll get you back when I see you again!” he chuckles. You bid your goodbyes, unaware that it would mark the unforeseen conclusion. 

Leaves crunch under your feet as you make your leisurely traverse to Liyue Harbor. It’s just before sunrise and you finished helping the elderly in Qingce Village carry copious amounts of heavy produce to their homes. The thankful candies from seniors' jingle in your pocket as you stretch your weary arms. Your mom offered to cook, but you're determined to locate the best commissions Katheryne had before afternoon. “Maybe I’ll pick up some rice buns” you think out loud at the rumble of your growing appetite. You still had a long way to go before you got to the harbor. 

This was your new normal. After your thundering battle with Ningguang and Keqing against Osial, you became an example of Liyue’s triumph. You also became more aware of Fatui tactics, wiping out their swarms with the raging fury of your pneuma and swinging vision. Days of grueling bloodshed resulted in your victory, cementing you as the lionheart of Liyue. Beat up and bruised, the only request you made after your fight was a hot meal and a place for your mom to retire. They delivered both, and you used your recent hero status to provide help to the villagers where needed, be it casual favors or ruthless assault on Fatui agents. You were neither rich nor poor, and lived off the land and kindness of the Liyue Qixing. They often suggested you focus on less mundane tasks, but to you, the most vulnerable age groups warranted priority. There was something about the lighthearted innocent squeals of children and mellow grandparents rocking in their wooden chairs that made you protective to an almost volatile extent. 

Bustling interactions of trade and commerce carry through the wind as you enter the harbor—a sound that’s brought you peace for years. The smell of food vendors has you drooling instantly. As you devour the complimentary rice bun, you feel the yank of a little hand on your skirt. You look down and a boy with brown hair searches for familiarity in your face. You recognize him, babysitting him numerous times. You kneel and pat his head, but he doesn’t react or move.  

“Hey, what’s up? Where are your parents?” you question, briefly scanning your immediate area for his family. He’s hesitant to speak, as if he can’t find the panicked words, and rushes into your arms. You hug him instinctively and let him sniffle into your shoulder. You pick him up in your grasp and raise his head with your other hand so that he’ll hopefully be open to your compassion.  

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” The boy wipes his chubby tomato-red face. “Grandma is on the floor, what do I do?” You quell your rising nerves to suppress his alarm and speak calmly.  

“Where is she?” 

Speed walking towards the destination, the commotion of a small crowd surrounds a kneeling woman in the distance. She’s on her sun-spotted hands and knees, wailing for some bygone Archon. “Grandma!” he yells and jumps out of your arms. You run after him, relieved that the worst case scenario hadn’t occurred. You push through the group and get eye level with her, forehead pressed to the ground spouting religious scripture. 

“Are you okay? Do you need medical assistance?” Wise sunken eyes wrinkled with age and torn by tragedy stick to your heart. Her feeble hands encapsulate yours, and tears stream down her cheeks. “They took my baby!” she rasps, rocking back and forth. “Who did?” you ask, and she weeps harder. “They took her memory...my baby, my daughter!” You support her weight and lift her hunched figure off the pavement. “What did they look like, ma’am?” 

“A black hood...red mask” she recalls shakily. Instantly miscellaneous chatter ensues. They whisper nervously in each other's ears, he who shall not be named steals their voices. “Fatui probably got ‘er” you hear the mumble of one. Fatui. Your blood boils at the word, and you direct your view to the shrinking man with hands in his pockets. “‘He’ got all of us” he scoffs. “Did they hurt you guys, too?” you ask, and they stare. They’re pained but accepting.  

“500,000 mora.”  

“194,000 for me.” 

They list off their debt one by one, and you’re horrified at the accumulating number. They seem to endure, however; no longer phased by the incurable tally haunting their lives. “H-how are you paying any of this?” 

“We can’t. It adds up. Interest, late payments, it always does. So, we give everything, and ‘he’ takes everything, until we have nothing left. We die poor without a possession to our name” a woman sighs. As a child, you heard of the loan sharks that purposely fed false promises to the poor, and once they were reeled in, charged insurmountable payments to blackmail—it was the origin story of most people in your birthplace. Your soul aches for them, but is there anything you can do? 

“...I’ll help you, all of you. I’m sure I can-” 

Ningguang arrives. She's a nurturing figure to you, the kind that asks if you’ve been eating well and politely scolds you.  “What happened?” You lead the tired elder to the Jade Chamber, and she tells her story through choked sobs. You didn’t expect Keqing to already be there, arms folded and turned away from the situation. Ningguang can barely glance at the woman. 

“They stormed my home and took my jewelry and belongings. They took the pendant my daughter gave me; it had her face in it. Archons give me strength, my baby! I can’t afford it; I have nothing!” she quakes. You rub her back and Ningguang nods, listening—you can’t help but notice the anxiety blooming on her abstracted face. They take her through the process and once she leaves, Ningguang and Keqing look at each other with a silent understanding. The room is eerily quiet, and Ningguang paces back and forth in front of the intel wall contemplating an uncertain danger. You fumble with your thumbs. 

“What are we going to do about this?” you wonder. Keqing clears her throat loudly, attracting the attention of Ningguang. She looks at you, and sighs deeply. “We already know about this issue.” 

Your ears perk up. “Great, so how can I help?” 

“By doing nothing, (Y/N)” Keqing says. 

“...What?” 

“I have eyes everywhere; I’ve known for a long time. The Fatui are not people to be taken lightly, especially the harbingers. A few of their skirmishers were caught trading exotic goods and taxing medicine at high prices, on top of extorting the impoverished regions.” Ningguang points to one of the many Fatui exclusive headquarters on the wall. “Pantalone is the richest man in Teyvat, he has more political influence than anyone can imagine, and they answer to him. We can’t risk getting involved with this. They’ve brought this upon themselves, and unfortunately, they must deal with the consequences.” 

You can’t accept this response. How can they just desert them? It doesn’t comprehend in your naïvity—you scold yourself for not spotting the signs sooner, furrowing your brows and looking at them with distaste. “I expected this. You shouldn’t have said anything” Keqing chides. “...Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped before-” 

“You’re the last person I wanted to know about this” Ningguang interrupts. Your anger feels misplaced, and you bite your lip in restraint. She sits next to you and offers fleeting comfort with a graceful hand on yours. “You’re quite the reactionary type. In due time, this will be sorted. But right now, I need you to calm down, and trust me.” It sounds desperate, you know you shouldn’t go looking for answers, but a snagging thread pulls at the back of your consciousness, all too convincing. You bounce your leg. “You should want revenge just as much as me. Where we came from, where they end up, it isn’t fair.”  

“You know I do, more than anything. But we must handle this with care, before too many people get hurt. I’m doing this for the betterment of Liyue as a whole. It’s not easy to make these decisions.” 

“We can’t just go around serving justice, there’s laws we have to act with” Keqing adds. You don’t reply and stand up abruptly to leave. The worried Tianquan grabs your wrist one last time. “Promise me you won’t make a mistake, (Y/N). I’m trying to protect you” she pleads. 

“I promise. Thank you.” You flash a half genuine smile, already planning to rebel against her wishes. 

Who exactly is ‘he’—Pantalone. You don’t even know where to start looking. Too many headquarters, infinite possibilities. The best way you have to find him is through Fatui agents.  

You start taking up odd jobs late in the evening, scouring for the possibility that a fatui agent might fall into your hands. Though you considered playing the part of an impoverished villager taking out a loan at Northland Bank, it didn’t guarantee that you’d meet Pantalone in the flesh—it’s more likely that would raise unnecessary suspicion in the process. It’s awkward at first, seeing the hero of Liyue fish on the dock for petty change throughout the night. As you do, the malicious fire in your eyes burns bright at the occasional voice in chill silence. Your vision glows as you toss the hunting knife between your nimble digits. Listening closely to conversations, hoping that one might be unguarded enough to slip up, but nothing of the sort appears—not even the boldness of Fatui skirmishers enables them to divulge secrets under the baleful existence of Celestia.  

The moon illuminates sweetly on the tranquil waters lulling you to drowse. You hadn’t heard much since the start of your escapade. A fishing pole is weak in your resistless hold, and you’ve evidently given up on the idea of portraying the hardworking fisherman tonight. You vowed to help the people of Liyue, but justice was seemingly unfeasible. Maybe a direct approach? Should I ambush their headquarters? More so a suicide mission, you’d have no luck achieving that. Just as you’re about to leave, the crunch of withering grass straightens your posture. You make yourself hidden with a burst of energy and slouch behind the bushes as a Fatui pyro agent charges along the route. Through the glutted leaves obstructing your vision, you can just make out the heavy bag on his shoulder and jagged blade waiting restlessly on the other. His stride points towards Qingce Village. You hold your breath disguising yourself with the scenery and allow him to take a few feet between you before you begin following him. He’s rather shifty, those veiled eyes darting back and forth at the lightest noise. You’re careful to glide behind trees, moving with the heartbeat of the wind and taking advantage of the various melody's nature offers. You suck in a breath and duck behind a boulder a few inches too close, and his head snaps in your direction. The feeling of being watched besets him, but with no way to prove it and time running out, he secures his knife for the hypothetical ambush, and makes haste towards the target. Turning a tree, you watch as the pyro wielder knocks on the house of a small worn cottage. A short stocky man appears, shading half his body behind the door. 

“H-hello...” you hear faintly. The Fatui keeps his hand firm on the door, one boot propped under the hinge. He presents the flaming knife loosely as he towers over the man. “We’ve given you time.” You were sure now that he's working for Pantalone.  

“I don’t have it. P-please, if you could just give me some more-” He slams his fist against the wood, a resounding thump shakes the home. The man cowers. “Give me everything you have. The Regrator won’t wait any long-” 

A small rock flies past his mask, skidding on the ground until it comes to a stop. He glares in the direction of the tree you’re hiding behind. You have no plan, nothing but the distracting impulse to stop the assailant from attacking. “Stay here” he commands, and stalks towards you. His slow footsteps get increasingly louder, playful stomps toying with your obvious whereabouts. He twirls the razor-sharp knife, and as he sharply peeks around the corner, you’re nowhere to be found. “Here, kitty kitty” he taunts, spinning towards the lake, then the village grounds for footprints. He severs the air aimlessly in mirth, believing some amateur fighter came to challenge him. As he monitors the tracks under you, you drop down from the wiry branches. Legs wrap tight around his neck, and you catch hold of his hood trying to pull his mask off. He gags but he’s too quick, throwing off your steadiness as he slams your spine on the grass. He whips around to take a stab at your chest, but you roll away guarding the vital arteries. You kick him in the crotch, and he recoils giving you ample time to stand.  

You can’t feel the wet laceration dripping down your abdomen as you take a slash at his throat with your weapon, infused with elemental energy. He leans back and meets your strike. You trade blows, the strength of your smite bursting sparks of light above the scratches and bruises. Your wrist burns with the unmoving knives stumbling you. He begins to manifest blazing knives circling his figure, and you jump back from the singing cut melting the cloth. You wipe the dried blood from your mouth, and in the blink of an eye, he disappears. Suddenly, red auras similar to the pyro agent surround you. One by one, the clones charge at you, and you parry their overhead onslaught. Something is different about the last clone, your vision revealing a brighter outline than the others. When the next clone attacks, as you counter you pretend to fall for his trick. With your eyes on the other, he immediately passes through the black fog to deal the killing blow. You’re quicker this time and heave a heavy tear into his chest. Crimson splatters the grass, it shatters his element and rips open the robe. You tackle him on the dirt and wrestle until you kick his weapon away. Your knee digs into his back, and he can barely breathe with his arm locked behind him and knife rigid against his neck. He ttempts to swing at you, but you wrench his arm tighter and slice into his skin just enough to draw blood. 

“Fuck. Okay!” he wheezes. “Where is Pantalone?”  

“I don’t know what you’re- shit!” You’ve lost patience long ago and twist his arm to dislocate the shoulder. He lets out a blood curdling scream thrashing in pain—you tug hard and focus him. “Shut up and answer my question. Where is Pantalone?” you demand. He hisses in pain and coughs up phlegm mixing with reddening soil. “Kill me.” 

“Just tell me and I’ll let you go.” 

“I’m a dead man, either way.” he rasps and hangs his head waiting for the execution. You grit your teeth; a drop of guilt leaves a bad taste as you thwack the pressure point on his neck that forces him unconscious. You glance at the bag he left and limp over to rummage through the contents. Useless papers crumple under stolen items, but one note catches your eye. Presumably a to-do list, you read to the bottom. A list of homes, goods on standby exchanges—at the bottom of those, a rendezvous point: 

Report back- Yilong Bank, Liyue 

You rest in a plot of prickly bushes and leave in the morning after patching yourself up. You couldn’t stop now, not when you were this close to facing him. You soothe your body from the twigs prodding you all night, and check the wound suppressed by gauze. It’s a light scar now, apparent after bathing in the warm water on the outskirts of Qingce. You contemplated telling Ningguang about what occurred, but imagining the look on her face once she knew kept you moving. 

Tucking your vision where it can’t be viewed, you take a waverider to Yilong Port into the afternoon. You concoct a half-baked scheme, one that relies on every scenario being perfect to a tee. Unreliable, but probably your only chance. The plan amounts to scaling the building and breaking in through the office window, snatching everything owned by the villagers and breaking out before anyone notices. Easy in your capabilities, but you have no idea what the building looks like, nor do you know where the office is. The man driving wears all black, an outfit that stands out from the rest of the region. He stares at you blankly, and once you’re aware, you meet eyes. His smile is uncanny, stretching across his face with an abnormal friendliness. 

“Is this your first time at the port?” he asks, finger tapping the wheel. Be it sleep deprivation or ignorance; you don’t recognize red flags in his behavior.  You smile at the courteous face. “Yeah, the weather’s beautiful out here.” 

“Mhm, hot weather up here. On vacation?” 

“Nah, I have business here.” The minuscule edge of your vision catches in the light. He homes in on the passing twinkle. You wonder why his eyes widen momentarily, and his finger starts to tap methodically, as if memorizing a coded pattern. 

“Business...what kind?” 

“Oh...I have some items to trade.” You close off your answers feeling that you’ve said too much. He subsides with a stale expression. “If you’re looking to trade, you might find luck at Yilong Bank” he utters monotonously.  

“And where is that?” You feign disinterest, but victory is too loud on your tongue. 

“Up the mountain.” The waverider halts at the harbor, and he turns his head away from you unusually cold, akin to a mechanical bot shutting down. “Welcome to Yilong Port.” 

You make yourself invisible in the crowd and wait for nightfall. People still roam the port along with Fatui monitoring the front of the bank, which gives you leeway to blend in as you find passage around the back of the mountain. It’s a steep, dark incline jutted with irregular jagged stones. The imposing size of the climb tangles knots in your stomach, and you wipe the persistent sweat on your top. In one huge leap, you latch onto a craggy indent, and begin your ascension. 

Your legs feel like jelly with each contact of the unforgiving breeze. You sway alongside the spirit of anemo and swallow your anxiety before leaping to the next rock. Shoes plant into rock and nails excavate fresh cobble on the next jump. By the time you’ve realized, you’re already up most of the mountain. You tug yourself even with the land as a barreling gust of wind goads your glance to the ground, kilometers beneath you. Your breath stills, and for a second dizziness overtakes your nerves at the thought of slipping. I could die, one mistake and I’m dead. You focus, and spring to the next piece. Without warning, rock gives way into pebbles at the weight of your foot. You nearly plunge, but anchor onto the small bump out with one hand. You’re dangling off the edge, playing with death while you fortify your body. Hyperventilation makes your heartbeat thrum incessantly and stress palpitates tired muscles; If you didn't have your vision, you would’ve fainted to your demise. You bite the bullet, push your heels in and persevere through the hurdles. The next thing you clutch is malleable in your palm. You vault over the cliff, the smell of dew is overwhelming. The back of the bank—the end goal—is visible.  

One Fatui member remains in the front. You scale up the building effortlessly, nothing compared to the hell you just went through. Shifting window to window, your eyes land on the pitch-black darkness of the room at the top of the building. An ideal glow casts on the fraction of precious gold resting on a coffee table. This has to be it. You slink through the window soundlessly, and land on the balls of your feet. Analyzing the dish, you don’t discern the pendant. You can faintly identify some bookshelves near the dish, and tiptoe further inside. You creep around luxury sofas, and squint at the embellished glass case next to the door, containing all manner of jewelry and valuable possessions. You won; this was it. You scurry to it, moving with abrupt carelessness. One more step. 

Click 

The fireplace you didn’t heed is set aflame. It flickers sneering shadows on the opposite wall and brightens the case. You pause and hope. There’s a confining silence stirring in the room, like someone is with you. The case is visible now, and so is the key to opening it. 

You fell into a trap. 

“Looks like I have a little thief on my hands.”  

A bittersweet voice in the sable, reminiscent of rich dark chocolate, rolls off the room. He steps out obscurity behind his desk and your eyes adjust, revealing the tight black turtleneck compressing his willowy torso and gloves adorned with silver rings. You can’t see the upper part of his face, but the chains of his glasses hang in front of that duping smile. You expected the Fatui harbinger to be on the stronger side, physically intimidating. It’s not physical, but you feel a certain fear boiling in your body. He’s not terrifying, but you tremble. His presence makes your hair stand and sends waves of goosebumps up your arms. You can’t find the will to move your wobbly legs. His charmed laugh rings in your ears and causes you to hold your breath. He has no vision; you shouldn’t be afraid. You could take him on easily, why can’t you fight? 

“Hello, honored hero of Liyue” the headless man taunts. It makes it worse that he knows who you are. How long had he known you were coming? Was your plan doomed from the beginning? Your feet are stuck in molasses as your fight or flight shuts down at the man before you.  

“Now, tell me. What is the little thief doing, barging into my office to take the possessions I worked so hard for? Not very heroic of you, If I may say.” There’s power in his stature—you forget how to speak. He holds his palm out to you. Tangled between his fingers, is the ornate golden pendant you’d been searching for, a woman’s face in the frame. Your eyes widen, and the sweet familiar curve of his lips stretches in amusement. 

“Is this what you’re looking for?” The plod of low-heeled boots accompanies unveiled darkness, and you can observe his entirety. Amethyst eyes drunk with an orchid hue pool into your being. Lazy curls brush against his glasses and kiss his porcelain skin. He’s beautiful, a calm enticing rip current that sweeps you with immeasurable pressure before you can pull yourself out. He leans on the desk, observing the chain halfheartedly. If you weren’t careful, you’d mistake the look on his face for genuine kindness; you’d drown, just like he craved. Nonetheless, you can’t shake the emotion his smile grants. 

“Yes. That’s all I need, and I won’t bother you again” you whisper meekly, hoping that he’d let you go with the pendant in a spur of forgiveness. The jest in his eyes says something different. 

“Come get it.”  

Come get it. Your mind begins to piece the man into a stage of your life you’d forgotten. It can’t be him. Memory tells intrusive truth in short flashes. Inky curls spiraling in front of you as you chase. He was consistently miles ahead of you. It was irrelevant how far apart you were; he’d always find you. That big, curving smile for every match he won. Purple eyes glancing back at yours; the same ones that withheld tears when you said goodbye. 

“Come get me!” 

Tears stream down your eyes for the friend you thought you’d never see again. Childhood laughter bleeds into his current cat-like conniving snicker, and you gaze at his face. 

“I... remember you” you choke. He looks up without a smile, perceiving an unexpected thought, and meets your eyes. There’s a hint of affection in the warm smile beaming on his face. “My my, (Y/N). You have quite the memory.” 

You’re motionless, full of something that catches in your lungs. This isn’t the triumph you wanted, and now that you’re face to face you feel powerless. He must’ve known the entire time. Watching you fight and work alone, sending Fatui to roam in Liyue, all done to toy with you. Your lip quivers, swelling in your already deafening heartbeat.  

“How long...” you utter. He inquires with the tilt of his head. 

“How long have you been messing with me?” Your eyes adhere to the floor, pride that won’t permit you to shed misery for Pantalone. He drinks in your resistant frame, the kind he desires to break; perhaps this game of cat and mouse isn’t done, after all. 

“This hurts me too, (Y/N). I wouldn’t be doing this if you weren’t so…persistent.” Your confusion spills over in shaky, weak huffs. You can’t maintain your composure, and make yourself first to oppose the authoritative man on his own territory. 

“How could you do this to anyone? We grew up poor!” You shout with balling fists. 

“It’s inefficient to dwell on the past” he replies with gentle cadence and languid grace unrepresentative of his cruel tactics. You nearly regret raising your voice. 

“These people are at their wits end and you’re taking advantage of them” you chide. He slowly paces towards you. Pantalone looks down on you from height disparity, but the royal glower pities you, judges worth you can’t see. 

“Driven by emotions, are you that simple? You presumed that if you stormed in here, and professed a touching story, that I would suddenly see the error in my methods?” You’re not sure what you’re here for anymore or why you haven’t left yet. Subconscious urges can't determine if they should slap or hug the man inching towards you. “I simply enforce contracts and exchanges. No one can be swindled by a debt accreted on their own.” 

“No one asks to be poor either” you interject. Pantalone’s a foot away from you now, analyzing your reactions to his personal entertainment. He recalls the blurry past—the pranks you pulled together that ultimately failed from your loud hurried sneakiness tripping to alert the farmers, helping out for loose change so that you’d split a snack between each other that wasn’t big enough to share, gazing at the twinkling night imagining a distant future—you changed and stayed the same, but he keeps wanting more.  

“Weigh the odds. They either die impoverished or live by passage of loans. I merely provide a service. Does that make me so cruel?” You can’t find an answer. 

“You’ll always be my friend, but I need it back. It can’t be much to forgive someone’s debt” you plead.  

“You still consider me a friend?” 

“I think…you’re hurt. And you’re trying to heal. We all are. I know I’ve dealt with a lot as I’ve gotten older and I think you have, too. Power corrupts even the best people in this world, so maybe you’re not a bad person. But you’re doing bad things, and this isn’t the right way to get better.” 

Pantalone is quiet for a few long moments. His hands web his face, but you can clearly see the pearly fangs in his open-mouthed smirk. Then he laughs—dulcet and mocking, it lingers for too long as he throws his head back and relishes the obtuse notion. He gazes with insulting compassion and stalks towards you. 

“Incredibly…. gullible. Mora is the pathway to all endeavors. Devoid of gnosis or divine knowledge, wealth has rendered me impervious to control. Suffering and destitution only manifest if I will it. I am the guise of a false god, an emblem of achievement.” It’s borderline delusional the way he regards himself, arms moving in theatric grandeur, the star of his own opera. 

“Does that make you feel good? Stepping on the backs of the community that raised you, and abandoning them because they chose not to be influenced by greed?” Pantalone towers over you. His fingers brush light against your sensitive ears, trail to your clenched jaw, and finally cup your frustrated cheeks with the cradle of a long-lost lover. 

“It does, in fact. I’m not easily swayed by ridiculous optimism, that’s why I’m at the top. You’ve devoted your blood and tears to a region that will succumb to adversity in your absence. Is that not a pointless feat?” 

“So what? That doesn’t mean we just don’t help people. You have nothing without the Fatui, you’re a pawn just like the others” you retort. He brings his lips close to the shell of your ear, and his breath hot on the untouched skin drags a tingle up your spine. 

“And what do you know about the Fatui?” he whispers. 

“I know enough. You’re all disgusting.” He huffs out his nose. 

“Disgusting isn’t the right word. I’d say...opportunists.” Pantalone backs up, sliding his hand up your chin and tilting your attention to the intense glint. “But you’re clever, I’ll give you that. If only you were clever enough to know your place.” You'd forgotten you were acting out of line. You refocus your mindset to negotiation. 

“I’ll do anything you ask for the debt. Please, just give it back.” The word “anything” evokes a malicious yearning—so forthcoming without understanding the implications of “anything”, of eternity. He caresses your cheek. 

“Anything, hm? Even if I said to give up being a hero for good? Would you still call yourself a heroic traveler if you weren’t allowed to travel or adventure as you please?” he teases. Your mouth opens to refute, but you bite your bottom lip instead. Pantalone walks back to his desk and leans while dangling the golden chain. Now that he’s far, the invading space between you two shows how insignificant you are in this luxury palace. 

“Your resolve moves me. Consider this; make an exchange with me, and I’ll guarantee not only her debt, but the debt of all residents in Liyue forgiven” Your face instantly lights up, ready to accept it without thinking. 

“What is it?” you ask. 

“In exchange for regional loan forgiveness, I want you.” 

“...What?” 

“I want everything you have. It’s the fairest exchange I can make. Your obedience, your loyalty, and your body.”  

The choice turns in your frontal lobe. You can’t fathom giving yourself to a man, let alone a Fatui harbinger. It’s unbecoming of a hero to lie with the enemy. 

“Absolutely not” you assure. 

“Alright. Then allow their village to be reduced to nothing.” No, wait. “You may leave. However, if you do, you’ll cause great misfortune to that woman and her struggling family” You play into his covet so smoothly as you stand in the center of the room, reluctant to leave.  

“I’m not a complete monster, so I’ll give you 5 seconds to make a choice.” He sways the pendant in his hand like the transient time of an hourglass. 5 seconds, all you have to sign your life away. 

“4.”  

What if no one ever sees you again? What’s the point of sacrificing your happiness and freedom, are the people of Liyue truly worth it? 

“3.” 

You could threaten him, take him hostage so that a harbinger might bow to your demands. That, or they kill you, and the village suffers anyway. 

“2.” 

You think of your graying mom, the sweet boy with his chubby red face who cries over the smallest things, the grateful elders that give you candy after every good deed, Ningguang and Keqing stressing over the next financial impact. 

“1.” 

“I’ll do it.”  

Pantalone swings the chain into his palm, an undefeated smug overbearing as he sets it on the desk. There was never a point in resisting; he always got what he wanted, no matter how long it took to achieve it. He waited months—no, years—to get you in this exact moment. There’s a daunting beguiling charm in the way he closes the gap between you two. You glare at him; a temper common people would dread shooting. He assesses the pending punishment and lowers himself eye-level. He grins, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“I can see the defiance in your eyes. Do you want to talk back? Go ahead, challenge me.” You don’t test this scenario and turn your head. “Don’t patronize me. Get it over with, ‘Pantalone’.” 

He quirks an eyebrow, and pliable flesh strains your teeth as your face is gripped rough by satiny leather. You’re twisted sharply to the calm expression—it humbles you. 

“That’s not how you address your superior. What should you call me?” You don’t answer promptly to his liking, and he tightens his grip. “Answer me properly, darling.” 

“...Sir.” Pantalone plants a sickly sugary kiss on your forehead, the kind that makes you forget how petrifying he can be, and lets you go.  

“Good.” He walks back to the desk and sits in the onyx chair embellished with silver jewels fit for a king. His chin rests on bridging hands. “Strip.” 

You don’t move, your heart hammers in your chest at the request and you stir uncomfortably. You have no experience with sexual gratification, let alone exposing yourself to an old friend.  

“(Y/N). Don’t make me say it again.” Keen agitation in his voice serves as a final warning. He eats you with his eyes, homed in on your hands clumsily snaking the top over your head. A glimpse of the scar you received during your fight with the Fatui captures him. He takes a mental entry, for an explanation that might justify why the agent suddenly goes missing. You were generally too busy to look in the mirror or analyze your assets, and pleasure was a removed afterthought—so the hungry fervor warming your skin and permeating the room clamped your thighs shut. You’re visibly flustered and nervous fumbling with the clasps on your bra while stabilizing your anxiety, and he delights in every second of the accidental strip tease. It feels like fresh meat introduced to a savage animal, and the instant your bra omes off, a new vulnerability coils in your gut. You move to your bottoms; the sheen of sweat polishes your plush thighs to wiggle out of them. You’re left in nothing but tantalizing panties hugging you in the right places. His eyes undress and redress you, tracing up and down the perk of your nipples, tempting fullness of your thighs, each unseen curve and perfect imperfect mark on your glistening body. He lets out a deep breath to stop himself from jumping over the table and taking you right there. 

“The underwear. Take it off” he says, an undertone of lust. You shimmy the fabric off and fully expose yourself. You impulsively cover your intimate parts and avert your eyes, but you can still feel Pantalone on you, ravaging you. He doesn’t bother telling you to put your arms at your sides, your bashfulness combined with an attempt at stoicism is comical. 

“Ah, the little thief is trying to act tough. That's cute” Pantalone teases and leans back in the chair. Manspreading, he pats his thigh. “Crawl.”  

He’s hellbent on shaming the defiance out of you. It’s a vile command, but you begrudgingly drop to your hands and knees. You drag your chaffed knees on wood, balancing like a newborn fawn adjusting to its legs. It’s humiliating and downright degrading; the cold floor fails at cooling your burning fever. You’re on the verge of tears, but Pantalone can’t help but smile. You get around the desk and look up at him, waiting for the next horrible thing he’ll have you do. “Unfortunately, the stunt you pulled impeded my paperwork. Be a good thing and sit on my lap until I’m done.” A “thing”—that’s all you were now, a shiny trophy meant to be ogled at but never taken seriously, used and thrown away. You stand off your scraped raw knees and straddle his thigh, hands balancing the leg so you don’t fall. 

And Pantalone starts to work. Working as if you’re not there, filling in the spaces on his documents. For some reason, it’s more demeaning this way, you truly are just a prize. One hand dances beautiful penmanship in masterful motions on embossed paper, the other fondles and explores your being. The gloves brush down your delicate spine, nonsensical shapes drawn on your lower back that make you shiver and pool heat in places you’ve never thought of. You’ve never been touched like this, it’s needles light on your skin. They move to your stomach, pleasant circles above the pelvis that threaten to go lower. He’s careful to trail his hand up your cleavage and behind your neck, neglect your hardening nipples and repeat the process over and over. He’s painstakingly slow, savoring the dazed arch of your back, massaging your inner thighs and dragging the sleek material over your rear.

Middle and index sweep across your lips, pulling your bottom lip to reveal teeth, and prods your mouth. Pantalone’s fingers are invasive, they exploit your gums and twirl around the squishy tongue molding to his appetite. He plays with the pink mass, and it fills you like a kiss. He’s everywhere and he hasn’t looked at you once. You hate it, the kind elegance and refinement of his technique that makes every calculated word and action reek of opulence. Yet, arousal pools on the surface, sticking to your labia and clouding your drowsy mind. It’s an extreme ache that doesn’t go away from cold showers or shrugging off like you usually would. You can’t remember what you did today, yesterday, or the day before that. The sensation of him consumes you and persists in spots he left. He smells of expensive cologne, hints of heady wood and sage. You’re lucky his fingers are in your mouth, or piteous moans would spill out of you. Flat on his thigh, the subtle jolts of his leg rub against your hypersensitive clit and set your nerves on fire. Throbbing swells in your core, and you struggle to stay stiff as your hips stutter.  

Pantalone knows exactly what he’s doing. Your labored pants sound like saintly melody while you writhe on his lap. The fabric goads your pulsing pussy, and you hang your head in embarrassment of the juices soaking your thighs and his. He’s surprised you have strength left to withstand the itch. You do your best to hover above it, trailing thick strings of slick. “There’s no need to pretend you don’t like this. Just give yourself to me” he whispers. And it’s so enticing, an invitation that might let you come if you ask. However, remnants of pride cling to your melting resolve, you can’t give in yet. He takes the fingers out and presses on your nipple, flicking the bud. You can’t hold the mewl, and he snickers.  

“So indignant for the hero of Liyue, to be on a harbingers lap, reduced to a pretty pet.” Your ears tune out the insults. The damp gloves pull and pinch your puffy nipples, then knead to soothe the pain. He does the same to the other, switching between both as he feels you squirm.  

He works on the last few pages. Piles upon piles of reports and records—they detail the deaths, or “suicides”, of clients who’d disappeared mysteriously after extended absence of payments for millions of mora, people who dared go against the Regrator. Unruly, uncooperative clients that take advantage of fair exchange, and pay the price for it. 

Your arms get tired, and you settle on him again. Pantalone starts to softly bounce his leg, enough for you to notice the friction on your clit. It’s too much, you can’t take it anymore, and start to rut your hips on his thigh. You look messy, smearing your essence on those overpriced slacks and biting back your moans. Pleasure flows in your veins, and you give up. His cock throbs nonstop, print stealing space in his pants. “Did you believe I wouldn’t catch you? You’re not sneaky enough. You’re not good enough," he taunts from the corner of his eye. You hump his leg like a desperate bunny, chasing the addictive high.  

“Nasty slut, fucking your hips on a man you barely remember.” He moves his hands to your clit and replaces the slacks with slippery leather. You grind on it harder and hold your moans. More, more, more. He coats it in the mess and finally diverts his attention to you. He teases your entrance gliding vertically on your vulva before pushing one finger in. It hurts at first, but your walls hug him eagerly, pulling it deeper. He coaxes it to take another and starts scissoring your gushy walls.  

“I’ll devour you. I’ll inscribe my name upon every surface of your physique until it adorns your lips, and I’m the only thing that remains.” Pantalone starts pumping rhythmically, tormenting, poking everywhere but your g-spot. Gloss drips down his knuckles and glazes his rings. 

“S-sir please, s’too much” you whimper, mustering up an ineffective stable voice. “Hmm? Can you hear the lewd sounds you’re making?” Loud squelches sing from him fucking your insides. Each time you try to speak, he elicits another moan. 

“M-my sto-mach hurtss” you whine. He holds your waist in place with the other hand and continues the assault. “I know, it hurts? Would you like me to alleviate the pain?” he coos. You nod fast. 

“Hold it in. You ask for permission every time you’re close, do you understand?” You don’t reply and try to angle your body to get more contact. You make the mistake of guiding yourself to your clit and earn a harsh stinging slap on your hand. “Don’t touch what’s mine” he orders. You’re frustrated and he’s doing it on purpose, it’s entirely too hot where pleasure and pain blur. “N-not yours” you stammer, and he stops. He pulls out your warmth and you whine from loss of pressure. Looking at him, there's no smile, and the irritation on his face makes your heart drop. You're really in for it. 

Without delay, your stomach flies over one of the chair arms, and you hold onto it for dear life. It presses firm on your ribs, and he slants your ass to the air. “You have courage, speaking back to me” he says. He pulls his gloves off and hurls them. They’re lovely, the silken soft hands of a man who hadn't lifted a finger through combat a day in his life. They sink into your sex, and you moan out for him. The other winds back, and you feel the palm hit brutally on your unsuspecting backside. Crack. It echoes in the room, and you almost fly forward. 

“Disrespectful.” Crack. He keeps pumping through it, and tears collect in your lashes. 

“Disobedient.” Crack. There’s blood rushing to your head, and violent smacks make your pussy flutter and ass ripple; his control won’t give you adequate touch.  

“Little.” Crack. Every time he feels you getting there, he pauses. A masochistic pleasure whirls innermost. 

“Brat.” Crack. Both cheeks are a sore fiery color and beginning to welt, but he resumes. You’re drenching his palm, sobbing from prolonged edging and Pantalone laughs. “Pfft, you’re crying? Too embarrassed to beg? Perhaps I’ll give you what you want, if you grovel hard enough, darling.” An incoherent orchestra of please’s mesh with broken moans. “Sir m’sorry. Wan’ it so bad, p-please!” you mumble. There’s no dignity on your lips, no residue of the hero you once were. Drunken ardor floods your short-circuiting brain. 

“Oh, what do you say? You want it? Is that it? I'll let you have it... but only if you say it loud and clear for me” he croons. He winds his fingers in a come-hither gesture that licks your core. 

“Please...I won’t misbehave again!” He spreads your ass apart and watches your hole pucker from lining the brink. 

“I’m not sure I want to give it to you now. It's a lot more enjoyable watching you squirm and beg.” 

“’M yours, sir. Please give it to me. I’ll be s’good, promise!” you mewl. You’re so pathetic, it’s endearing. He simpers and maneuvers impossibly fast while gyrating your clit. “How humiliating. You’ve satisfied me.” Your eyes roll back, and you dissolve in pure euphoria. There’s black dots in your vision, and it doesn’t stop as he starts torturing your overstimulated clit with the pad of his thumb. Your tears only encourage him. You jerk and spasm, but he moves where you move with insistent skill. “T-too m-” 

“Aww, what’s wrong? Isn’t this what you wanted, where are your manners?” Pantalone pulls out and delivers staggering mean swats to your pussy, and you recoil. “Say thank you” he demands. 

“Thank you, sir.” He hums and picks you up in his arms. Before color can return to your numb cells, he lays you on the desk. You watch him pull his shirt up to his pecs with haste and uncover the lean skinny midsection. Unzipping his pants, he unsheathes his leaking thumping erection. Even his dick is pretty, it curves upwards and shades a starving dusty pink past the thin strip of tissue on the underside of his bulbous tip. Composure thinning, a bead of pre come runs down his tip at the sight of provocation sluicing your ass and thighs. His glasses plunge down his neck, body blushed wildly, but he doesn’t care. Pantalone slides between your labia and groans at the sound. Engulfing the tip in awaiting velvet warmth, “You’re so good for me, hm?” he sighs. You embrace him, delicious searing stretch of your walls forming to his cock. Your orgasm builds just from your body accommodating the size. He places your hands on your calves and holds them at your sides. He slips out, and in one swoop, drives into you. His heavy balls smack against your ass as he thrusts frenetically in the gooey grip he’d been waiting for, stalking and spying for. He digs crescent shapes in your waist and uses you to his abundance. The desk base creaks and grinds on abrading wood and obituaries float to the floor with overturned calligraphy ink from the unrelenting momentum. You throw your head back and indulge the carnal lust washing over you both. 

“You’ll never see anyone ever again. Fuck- you’re mine, and mine alone. You’re nothing but a come dump, your purpose is to please me, hah, until I say it’s over” his voice is unexpectedly deprived and weighty with vulgar whimpers. Pantalone eyes your neck and encapsulates it in his slender hand. He clenches tight and releases in sporadic bursts that have you seizing around him. For a split second there’s the image of you—exorbitant pearled collar wrapped around your throat, with “Pantalone” inscribed in bedazzled letters—and he loses it. He swipes your clit rapidly and feeds you deep strokes; you’ll definitely die. You speak, but it’s unintelligible rambling. 

“Use your words” he lilts, squeezing your airflow taut. “C-can I, sir, please?” 

“You’ll do it on my command.” Pantalone thrusts frenetically, you can feel him bucking, twitching and quickly approaching his climax. His hips sputter, chanting some mixture of your name and curses under his breath. “You’re so obedient for me, aren’t you? F-fuck, darling, go ahead. Come on my cock.” You permit yourself to surrender, white noise streams in and time slows as you come down his shaft. A creamy ring forms at the hilt of his slaps. You recite “thank you” through wails with the semblance of a follower at the altar of their savior. Then he grabs your face and goes in for a kiss.  

It’s sloppy and misses half your lip, but its doughy attachment mellows your blissed out head. His lips taste like the bitter excess of green tea, and you crane for a better sample. His tongue does things his fingers couldn’t, and swirls around yours in a passionate bruising waltz. Pantalone breaks away, a string of saliva when he frees himself. “Mm, coming. Gonna claim you everywhere” he whimpers. Sweat on his lustered abdomen, he pumps his tender cock before spurting thick hot ropes across your tits and stomach. He paints your vulva with the rest and plunges the tip in your entry so as to not waste the endless globs of white. He tremors inside you until soft, and when some dribbles out he fingers it back inside.  

Afterwards, Pantalone opens one of the drawers on the desk and takes out an embossed loan dismissal form. You can’t read the finer details through hazy eyesight. “It’s already signed, so don’t worry. I won’t deceive you.” He caresses your face in his normal sing-song attitude. “We depart in the morning.” You don’t have a clue where you’re going or how you’ll get there as you drift unconscious. Once you’re asleep, Pantalone shuffles in a different locked drawer. He twiddles the stunning purple geode in his hand, a crystal lined mineral you gave to him years prior. He looks at you, then the druse, and cackles. 

“Mine. Always.” 

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin au #pantalone smut #pantalone #pantalone headcanons #headcanon #pantalone x reader #pantalone x you #pantalone x y/n #genshin impact pantalone

[vanishingcherry]

Hey Leah, hope you’re doing good. If you’re taking requests, please could I get either Charles or Lando x fem reader. I had a really shitty day and my friends seem really distant and I feel super sad. Thank you x

PIANO LESSONS

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

author's note: heyy! im so sorry about your day... i hope you're feeling better now 🥰. im sorry its a bit late, ive just been in a writing slump and didn't have anything finished. ive had this in my drafts for a while tho so here you go!

masterlist

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

It was summer break, which meant Charles was home for over 2 weeks and you had him all to yourself. Granted, you did have days in which you would go out with family and friends, but it was a manner of speaking. It meant that you would be together almost 24/7 for days at a time, something rare in his career.

That was why the two of you had pre-decided to make the most of it. Charles felt guilty sometimes, about not being, in his words, the boyfriend you deserved. Although you had told him multiple times that he was perfect, he held on to that insecurity, which is why you went along with everything he planned, knowing that all he wanted to do was spend time with you.

You could honestly say you had been on more dates in the last week than you had so far in the year. There were the simple dinner dates, movie dates, hiking dates and also the more unique ones, such as the one that ended with, for some reason, throwing paint on each other.

But with all that, there were also the more quiet days. The days in which the two of you would stay in your apartment all day long. Those were your favourite days. There was something special about being able to wake up late, not having to worry about work or some sort of event.

"Have you been awake a while?" you whisper, shifting so that you would be closer to him, tucking your head under his own as he continues to run his fingers through your hair.

"Ouais." he murmurs. Yeah. "Mais c'est bien. I like looking at you."

It was another one of these days, and you were coming back from the kitchen with a snack when you heard the soft notes of the piano. Smiling, you switched off your phone and walked into the makeshift studio you and Charles had converted a guest bedroom into.

He had taken piano lessons during quarantine, and you had never been happier with his decision. There would be times in which you would come home from work, the sound of music immediately putting you in a state of relaxation.

You stand in the doorway, watching as his fingers dance across the keys. A few minutes later, when he stops playing, you walk over and sit next to him.

"What piece was that?" you ask softly, not wanting to speak too loud. You rest your head on his shoulder, offering him a chip from your bowl.

"Did you like it?" he replies, answering with a question of his own.

"Yeah, it was beautiful. I loved it."

"It's mine. I made it." he admits sheepishly. "I was just trying something out."

"REALLY? Oh my god, amour!" Your eyes widen at his words, head turning towards him in disbelief.

"Yeah. You actually like it?"

"Yes, of course! Oh my god, bebe. How did you- I'm so proud."

He shyly smiles at your praise, before piping up. "Do you want me to teach you?"

"Your song?" you ask, clearly excited.

"Well" he starts. "Maybe not my song right now, but I can teach you an easier song... and then we can work up to my song?"

"Ouais! I can't believe I never thought of that before."

He smiles at your enthusiasm before wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He then gently takes your hands, placing them on the keys, keeping his fingers over your own. He looks at your expressing for a few seconds, unable to stop the smile from creeping on his face as he realises just how special you are.

"You press this finger and this finger at the same time, and hold it for a second" he directs, after shaking his head to focus, pressing down on the right keys.

You follow his directions, going over ever note a few times before moving on. He was patient, overly so, helping you with the biggest grin as you ask him to repeat the last few steps.

Before you knew it, it had been over an hour, and you had learnt quite a bit of what Charles was teaching you. At this point, both of your attention spans were low, and there wasn't a lot of playing going on. Rather, it was you trying to get through the last few notes before a break while Charles lightly tickled your sides, proving to be an annoyingly cute distraction.

"I think I'm done for today" you sigh, shifting slightly to rest your back against Charles.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm tired." you say.

He nods sympathetically before standing up and pulling on your hands to make you do the same.

"You go to bed and put something on the TV, okay? I'll make dinner and be there soon."

"Are you sure? Do you want me to help?"

"It's just pasta" he replies, shrugging and lightly pushing you in the direction of the bedroom.

"Okay... but I want mine al dente", you emphasize. "Not croccante"

liked by arthurleclerc, scuderiaferrari and 309,857 others

yourusername thanks for the piano lesson @.charlesleclerc

view all 8,547 comments

charlesfan oh to have charles as a piano teacher

scuderiaferrari couple goals

ynfan AUS23 yn's pov when

charlesleclerc of course ❤️... same time tomorrow?

↳ yourusername i'd love to

#vanishingcherry #leah writes ──⋆˚₊⋆ ๑ #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 #formula 1 #charles leclerc #formula one #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc instagram edit #charles lecrelc #charles leclerc instagram au #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fluff

[ladystoneboobs]

i present: small and non-verbal but very funny star wars moments:

ep. V: the empire strikes back--the millenium falcon achieves hyperspeed again, despite the imperials' best plans to the contrary. admiral piett and his men are terrified of vader's reaction, all trying to stay out of his path. but he's still too busy brooding on his loss of luke to even force-choke anyone. that's how thrown off he was by his newly-mutilated son running away from him!

the sole exception to this collective terror being this guy, so intent on his own important work, that he doesn't even notice his scary boss until darth vader has walked right past him.

ep. III: revenge of the sith--padme's droids somehow getting her unconscious body back on her ship.

in the novelisation, r2-d2 just drags her up the ramp with his gadgetry, but in the script it's c-3po who carried her up bridal style. which would be impossible to film when 3po could barely manage to move around under his own weight. what makes it really funny for me is that there was no need for any of this. why not just have obi-wan pick her up as he's hurrying outta there after failing to kill her husband? i mean, it's surely not good to be lying out in the open on a volcanic world with poisonous gases, but it wouldn't be good for obi-wan running around out there either, and this lady was about to have broken heart as her only known cause of death. when has science ever held back star wars? and i can't imagine that being dragged by wires from artoo or dropped every few steps by threepio could've been too good for her body either. just makes for an absurd little (offscreen) background detail amid the tragedy of the end of padme's life, imho.

ep. IV: a new hope--obi-wan vanishing into thin air when struck down and vader's (very understandable) bafflement afterward.

by this point in the second screencap, luke is shooting at him in retaliation and the stormtroopers are all shooting back at luke, but anakin is still dealing with this unprecendented vanishing and busy searching for any corporeal remains of obi-wan kenobi with his boot. "where did you go, my old master? how could this happen? i wasn't done fighting with you yet."

ep. V: the empire strikes back--vader inviting lando calrissian, chewbacca, han solo, and princess leia to share a meal with him and boba fett, before taking chewie, han, and leia prisoner and torturing han.

i think a lot of people must assume there was no actual meal, but it's not like vader had to go to all that trouble in the first place of setting out an entire banquet table with proper containers and utensils. just because that was lando's pretext to bring them to vader does not necessitate actually having a table set. darth vader could have had them led into any other room with boba fett and stormtroopers waiting to just arrest them right away. instead, as we can see in the second screencap, (over lando's shoulder and leia's bun), vader did sit down at the head of the table, waiting for his prey to join him. and i swear, in one of the earlier drafts of empire's screenplay there is actually a scene showing their awkward meal together. or rather, han and leia being served food and drinks while darth vader just sits there, watching evilly, explaining his great villainous plan to use them to trap luke. it's like dr. evil making austin and vanessa sit down at his table in the first austin powers movie. darth vader really did always live for drama

ep. VI: return of the jedi--leia telling han that she loves luke, but not that way. he's her brother, silly! as if this is something they all knew all along, with zero follow-up explanation. you can just see han wordlessly processing this bombshell of brand new information through his facial expressions alone. (this lasts so long that i wouldn't even count it were it not likely overshadowed by everything else in the ending of rotj.)

wh-what did you say? your brother? since when?

wait-wait-wait. i've seen you mouth kissing luke right in front of me before. i'm so confused now.

just what kind of weirdo family have i gotten myself mixed up with here?

oh, well, she's only kissing me now. that's good enough, i guess. maybe?

hey, as long as you do love me and luke in different ways ...

i don't know much about families, but i've heard they all have their weird traditions. so who am i to judge you, babe? as long as we're together now, that's all that matters.

#swedit #star wars #anakin skywalker #darth vader #padme amidala #lando calrissian #chewbacca #han solo #leia organa #yes i did use very specific adjectives to exclude most of the st #tho i do think there's some funny intentional and more overt humor in the jj saga #tlj was more marvel-like humor which was its real greatest sin #tumblr won't let you do a numbered list in descending order so just imagine it's a top 5 that way #(c)lsb

[stellar-skyy]

ADORNED NIGHT — Platonic Kazuha, Tomo & reader.

i. SUMMARY: You had two childhood friends; Kazuha and Tomo. Now, it's just you. ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: Inazuma Archon quest spoilers, character death, grief. iii. NOTES: Platonic, angst, childhood friends!Kazuha and Tomo, gn!reader, 1.5k words. iv. A/N: This is one of the first things I've written and has been sitting completed in my drafts for SO LONG because I didn't like how it turned out, but I can't keep re-editing it. Enjoy!

It’s easy making friends when you’re a kid. Your parents are close to other parents, and you eventually get shoved towards their kids to give you something to do. For you, that came in the form of Kaedehara Kazuha.

He was a quiet child. The kind who would cry when flowers got trampled, or bugs skittered away from his hands. But he was an easy, comfortable presence, and one that found its place by your side.

It was inevitable that you made friends with Tomo after that, with him and Kazuha practically attached at the hip, and it didn’t take long for him to declare you both his best friends.

Whether it be playing adventures in the forest, hide-and-seek around Kazuha’s estate, or just wandering the city of Inazuma, the three of you were scarcely seen without one or both others by your sides.

And you couldn’t be happier.

“Kazu, come on!” You called out after the boy trailing behind.

“Just give me… a minute,” Kazuha murmured. He continued to crouch on the edge of the river, poking at the ground with a stick.

“Are you still frog-hunting?” Tomo asked with amusement in his voice. Kazuha shook his head.

“No, I found something better,” Kazuha suddenly dove forward, scooping something up in his hands. He looked up triumphantly, holding up the animal in his hands, a large purple beetle that wriggled and crawled over his palms.

“An onikabuto!”

“Let me see!” Tomo demanded, leaning over his shoulder. The creature turned around, settling neatly in Kazuha’s hands. “That’s so cool! I wonder if I can catch one too.”

“It is cool,” You admit. “But we should hurry. We don’t have many hours of daylight left.”

Tomo gasps, looking up at the sky. “You are absolutely right. Hurry up, Kazuha! Adventure awaits us!”

“Okay, okay.” Kazuha chuckled, before letting the little onikabuto go. You held your hand forward to help him up, and he grasped it gratefully.

“Onwards!” Tomo announced, marching ahead through to the forest. His voice grew quieter as he strode further through the trees, almost out of your sight.

“We’d better go on before he gets himself lost.” Kazuha said, brushing the dirt off his clothes.

You held out your hand, and Kazuha took it in his.  

You were always told that friends don’t last forever, that these innocent childhood memories would make way for new ones. But the three of you didn’t grow apart; you grew together, like flowers that bloomed within the same patch of dirt. It was hard to imagine a life without them—the two constants in your life.

Tomo began to get bolder in his words. What started as child prone to disobedience quickly turned into a fiercely loyal man who was willing to die for his ideals. He spoke openly in criticism against whatever he found fault in (which just so happened to be the Shogunate), picking apart the frayed edges of their society until it was little more than lose thread in his hands.

But while Tomo grew louder, Kazuha grew quieter. He didn’t cry anymore; his emotions began to smooth themselves out into a perfect balance of calmness. He leaned into his love of poetry, and his already flowery vocabulary became nothing short of lyrical.

Things were changing. You didn’t mind though, because you knew that you would change together.

“Have you heard?” The whispers say. They seem to come from every direction, from the Shogun’s guards stationed around Inazuma, to the lips of shopkeepers hidden behind their hands. “They say he challenged the Shogun herself to a duel!”

“Can you imagine?” The whispers answer. Their voices grate on your ears and send shivers down your spine. Something was wrong, that much you knew for certain.

“It’s such a shame. He was such a lovely boy, too.”

You feel a spike of sympathy for whoever they were talking about. Everyone in Inazuma knew that the moment someone challenges the Shogun, their fate is already bound. It was no wonder they were speaking of him as though he was already gone.

“I feel bad for those friends of his. What will they do without him?”

Did he have friends he was close to, as well?

“Is that… them?”

Something was… most definitely wrong. As you walk across the street, you feel eyes piercing the back of your skull, like the entire city was looking at you. Your steps grow faster, trying to outrun the sounds of their voices. If only Tomo hadn’t left his house early this morning, then there would be no need to go searching for him.

“Do you see…”

“I wonder…”

“Has anyone told…”

“(Name)?” You look up at the sound of your name, to see the shopkeeper from Tsukumomono Groceries staring at you with unhidden shock. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you going to the Tenshukaku?”

“The Tenshukaku? Why?”

“Um… the duel?”

“Why would I want to watch that?” You say with disgust in your tone. “I don’t want to watch some random person’s execution.”

“I—I figured the circumstances were different.” She looked deeply uncomfortable, eyes darting between the crowds of people. “I mean… considering who it is.”

“Who it is? Do I know them?”

“You don’t know,” The shopkeeper reels back, like she had been slapped. Her nervous expression fell away to look horrified at the implication. “No one told you—you don’t know.”

Something was wrong.

A sick, twisted feeling appears in your stomach. “Who is it?”

“I—”

“Tell me!” Your voice cracks in the middle of your words, until there were tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You couldn’t imagine why; it wasn’t as if it’s—

“Tomo,” She whispers. “It’s Tomo.”

In one night, you lost both of the people you loved.

One was dead. The other vanished without a trace.

You tried to get on as normal—or as normal as you could—but everywhere was a reminder of what you had lost. The memories were scattered across Inazuma, waiting for the moment they slipped your mind to bring you reeling back into the past.

Autumn leaves fell, surrounding your head like a halo. A white cat lingered around the Tenshukaku, waiting for its owner. Signs were pinned on the noticeboards, conversations penned from hands that were unable to continue them.

There were so many relics of the past that you could almost pretend it wasn’t true; that if you waited in your old meeting spot, the two of them would appear and greet you with open arms.

You could imagine Tomo, with his wide grins and bold words, loudly explaining the true meaning of eternity while strangers gave him odd looks.

You could imagine Kazuha quietly beside you, shoulders barely touching, silence only broken by the occasional haiku he had composed in his mind.

You could imagine them both, walking in step with you as you did your daily errands, warding away the crushing loneliness that threatened to destroy you.

Everyone met you with pity, even those who would get annoyed with your antics as children. They offered nothing but condolences for Tomo, and well-wishes for Kazuha. Some offered an ear to listen to your troubles, but you politely decline.

(It wasn’t as if they would ever understand how it felt to lose two thirds of your life.)

The constant eyes were tiring, so the beach became your safe haven. It was free from people, aside from the occasional couple looking to sneak off, or soldier patrolling the perimeter.

Kazuha always loved this spot. It was, in his words, a paradise of solitude, where nature could sit down and breathe.

Tomo wasn’t too fond of it, complaining about the uneven rocks and sand getting all in his clothes. Still, he would linger there with you both, watching the sky until the sun slipped out of your vision.

When the moonlight hits the water, you can lean back with closed eyes and almost hear Kazuha musing various verses about the way the light reflects the sky, while Tomo chuckles beside you, and it almost feels like nothing changed.

That's the funny thing about loss; it isn't made up of absence. You can still feel their presence as lucidly as you used to, it has just shifted from something tangible into something limited in the confines of your mind, and the fleeting moments of joy before you realize they're not there.

And as long as the sound of their laughter still lingers in the back of your mind, maybe you can forget that they're gone.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

#✒️ — writing #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #platonic x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact x reader #platonic kazuha x reader #platonic tomo x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader #tomo x reader

[marleyybluu]

Made From Love

Summary: basically Spooky is a cute, supportive, boyfriend while his girl is in labour.

Pairings:dad!Oscar x black!OC/poc!OC

Warnings: none. Just fluff and cuteness.

Word count: 2.1k

Side note: I acc have so many drafts of Oscar being a dad. I don’t know why. He’d be such a DILF tho

I’m ngl something about this pic is giving dad vibes. Like “this is my dad in the 90s”

"Puta Madre!"

Amora cussed leaning over holding her stomach, the agonizing pain shot around her tummy as she sat in the hospital bed, the same bed she'd been in for almost ten hours. She didn't know how much more she could take.

She was five centimetres dilated and she'd been at that spot since they arrived.

Oscar, her boyfriend, felt useless in the whole situation all he could do was rub her back to ease any pain even the smallest and whisper encouraging words. She was exhausted beyond belief, she felt weak, hot and cold at the same time, and her emotions were not in one spot.

"Oscar, I'm gonna fucking kill you." She whimpered leaning back on the bed.

He kissed the top of her head. "That's okay baby, I'm fine with that."

"Why did we do this?" She pouted. He made his way over to the bed sitting on the little space that was available, he held her hand in his massaging her fingers as a distraction from her pain. "Because we love each other."

She sighed. "And we need a big-headed baby to prove it?"

He chuckled shaking his head and she softly snorted at her comment. She didn't mean it, she was happy to be creating her own family, happy to finally be the parent she wish she had and she was excited about the new chapter. The way Spooky reacted to her pregnancy was what made it worth it to be honest. He was ecstatic, the two discussed family plans more so in a fantasy way but didn't know if it'd ever be a reality.

But the day Amora showed Oscar those two pink lines he made it his duty to keep her as relaxed as he possibly could. He'd taken over the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry— he wouldn't even let her carry a book much less to a pot of food. Her ridiculous cravings at five in the morning were no task to him, anything she wanted she got.

Sometimes to help her fall asleep he would just rub circles on her stomach while they watched whatever she wanted to. The mood swings weren't the easiest, crying at a commercial about potatoes one day and cussing like a sailor the next at the fact that he, quote, "breathed too much."

Oscar took her insults with a grain of salt knowing she was going through everything to have his baby and he was grateful for it. Watching the woman he loved more than anything continue to grow another version of herself for him to hold and coddle.

Amora sat up carefully swinging her legs off the bed, he came to her aid offering his hand, she took it and grabbed the stand that held her IV bag. "Can we go for a walk please?" She whined. Oscar nodded helping her one slow step at a time. He thought her waddling was the cutest causing her to develop the new nickname penguin.

She huffed and puffed making it two rooms down before she wanted to go back. Once they were back inside their own room she didn't sit down instead she rested her head on his chest while his magical hands massaged her back. "How are you feeling?" She mumbled.

"I should be asking you that instead."

She shook her head. "Answer first."

He smirked. "Is it weird that I'm nervous? Like I just hope she's okay and that she's healthy and that you're healthy. I can't wait to bring her home."

Amora hissed feeling another pain, she went over to the bed planting her palms on the sheets, her head hung as tears slipped from her eyes. Seeing this made Oscar's heart shatter, he held her as another contraction passed.

Amora felt like she zoned out too long, one minute she was rushing this baby out and now that she was on her way out she was screaming to put her back in. Beads of sweat ran down her face, she used Oscar's hand as a stress ball and he was almost certain she'd break his fingers.

"Fuuuuuuck!! I can't fucking do this put her back in it's okay!"

She threw her head back looking over at Oscar. "One more push bébé, you got it." She opened her mouth to call him every word in the book but he didn't let her say anything just planted a kiss on her lips, her soft smile quickly turning to a neutral position when she heard those glorious cries, a small human placed on her bare chest. She was here.

Oscar couldn't believe his eyes, she was right in front of them, a living and breathing creature. Just as breathtakingly beautiful as her mother. "Oh my goodness, hi princesa." Amora cooed. Oscar was speechless. He was nudged by one of the nurses who handed him small scissors nodding over to the umbilical cord that still connected mother and child. He looked over with worry on his face. His girlfriend reassured him with her eyes and he took the scissors and gently cut at the squishy tube until it separated.

He bent down to get a closer look at the tiny person. "I'm so proud of you. I love you guys." He whispered. "We love you too Papi."

And so it began, a beautiful little family forming overnight. The nurses had taken her away to run some tests, wash her down and soon they'd bring her back. Oscar cupped her face indulging in a passionate kiss, she could taste the thank yous, the appreciation, the love, the gratitude and every positive affection he had to offer.

"Mhmm," One of the nurses sounded. "Be nice if every father reacted like that. They'll be back next year."

Amora and Oscar giggled hearing her comment. "We'll definitely be back next year." He mumbled against her lips and she didn't fight it because truth be told, they probably would be.

Soon their infant was rolled in all wrapped up and cozy in the cutest pink hat. They were left alone as Oscar stood over her, she looked like a "Bean" He whispered picking her up in his arms, her tiny nose twitching and her face forming a quick smile before a pout as she slept peacefully.

The new father sat back down on the hospital bed next to the new mother, she rested her head on his shoulders and gazed at their creation, a creation of love rightfully so. "She smells so good." Oscar whispered, Amora, closed her eyes enjoying that whiff of 'newborn smell' that mom's always talked about.

A small knock at the door caught their attention as Caeser, Oscar's younger brother, poked his head in. "Mano, come in man." The door pushed open revealing her mother behind him she gasped reaching out for her loved one, embracing her in a sweet hug her mother congratulated the two on the new journey.

"Amora, she is beautiful, my goodness." She awed tapping her little nose.

Caeser hadn't said anything yet, the shock hadn't worn off yet that his brother who had been a father figure to him all his years was now officially a father and he could vouch for how great of a father he would be, better than their own by a hundred percent.

"You wanna hold her?" Oscar asked. "C-can I?"

"Yeah man, you're her Tio foo."

Oscar instructed the young man on how to hold his arms, he held his breath as the tiny thing was placed in his clutch, he didn't dare to breathe or move in an inch. "Honey, relax, you won't hurt her." Said, Amora.

"So do we have a name yet?"

The couple looked at each other and frowned, they didn't know what to name their daughter for some reason every name Amora came up with she just didn't like. "We're working on it." Oscar chuckled.

Soon Caesar excused himself to go call Monse and her mother excused herself so she could go bring her daughter some much needed food. Amora had fought long and hard to stay awake but she just couldn't do it anymore, she let go and found herself in a deep slumber, the baby in the same state laid in her tiny cushioned transparent bassinet . Oscar spread across the couch looking at the two of them.

He'd never pictured this day would come, being a rugrat in the streets for so long, hooking up with desperate hynas, school dropout, jailbird-- he had doubts he'd ever get started on a family but he was happy to have found a beautiful and understanding woman who had the patience of a priest in a confessional booth. The baby began to make noises, squirming in her little blanket. He didn't hesitate to get up and get her out, he was itching to hold her again anyway.

Oscar sat back down with her in his arms, her wonderous brown eyes staring right at him. He could cry, he did cry, a few tears slipping from him. "Hola mi Amor, como estas?" He watched those curious little eyes drink in his features. "I look scary huh? Promise I'm not. Your mommy was probably scared of me too, I don't know why she's still here. She's loca."

He gently ran his thumb over her nose. "Emilia. Emilia Diaz. You think mom will like that name? I've been saving it for a while."

Amora quietly laughed catching his attention, she looked through her droopy lids and smiled. "Why you didn't tell me you had a name for her already?"

He shrugged. "Didn't know if you'd like it."

"I love it. Bienvenido al mundo Emilia."

—- It didn't take long for six months to fly by, Emilia wasn't the tiny little person they brought home so long ago, she was clapping, she was giggling, holding her own bottle once in a while.

Amora felt like she didn't have time to register that her daughter really was growing before her eyes. They had lots of help with her, it really did take a village and she was happy to be a part of it though she wasn't sure if she wanted to raise children in this area... maybe it wasn't so bad with her group of Tio's looking out for her.

Emilia kicked around in her crib waiting for her mom to come pick her up from her nap, the light switched on and a small squeal erupted from those tiny lips. "Buenos dias mamitaaaa, helloooo." Amora cooed reaching into the crib and sitting her baby on her hip. "Let's go bother daddy." She whispered.

Oscar was outside working on his car, as usual, the hood up blocking his view. The front door closed as Amora's bare feet touched the grass, the closer she got her toes came into his peripheral view, he stood up to the surprise of his daughter who was now awake.

"Hola bonitaaa, hi my love." Emilia wasted no time abandoning her mom for her dad. Amora pouted handing her over. "I think we made mommy jealous."

"Whatever."

He tugged on her hand pulling her closer leaning down for a kiss, a small number of cheers coming from down the street. She shook her head seeing the Santos three houses down across the street hollering at them. "You better get it jefe, we want a boy too."

Oscar flipped them off and they cackled going back to their activities. "I mean, speaking of."

Amora raised her eyebrows. "You want another one already? Oscaaaar." She whined. "That's how your gonna sound when we make another one."

She punched him in his shoulder and he fake flinched. "Did you see that bean? Mommy hit me. Get her." He took the baby's hand swatting at the mother's face causing a fit of giggles to erupt resulting in her going back to her mother's arms.

Amora opened the car door sitting inside allowing Emilia to sit on her lap and grab the steering wheel. Oscar closed up the hood and grunted as he sat down on the passenger side joining them.

"Turning into an Abuelo already?"

"Make fun of me now but I'll be a sexy one."

She fake gagged. "You start getting wrinkly and I'm outta here."

He shrugged. "Easier access for the hynas."

Her jaw dropped as she pulled his big ears. He looked at her with the purest love in his eyes, she blushed looking away but he took his finger turning her back to him. "I still make you nervous huh?"

"Yea."

"Good. It's cute."

She sucked her teeth before he inched closer to her capturing her in a sweet kiss that lingered, sending electricity through her body.

"Ba!"

The two laughed at the noise Emilia made. Her little hand wrapped around his large finger and she smiled. There was truly no place he'd rather be.

If you liked this story be sure to like this story, reblogs are appreciated, comments are appreciated, and feedback is appreciated.

if you'd like to be on a taglist you can let me know on any of my posts, and my DM's be cool🤝

#oscar diaz #black!reader #spooky #spooky x reader #spooky x black!reader #oscar diaz x black!reader #oscar diaz x reader #spooky fanfic #spooky fanfiction #on my block fanfic #on my block #on my block fanfiction #poc reader

[sat0sugu-angst]

Katsuki Is Only Soft For You

pairing: bf!bkg x gn!reader

a/n: bc ive been doing a lot of jjk content and i just can't seem to get enough of him even through all my writer's block 😩

cw: fluff, mild pda, possessive bkg, light thwap on the 🍑 but its barely sexual, katsuki is a meanie bc ofc he is

characters aged up +22

MDNI

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He loves when you're needy, because then he gets to give you lovin while grumbling about it and hiding the fact that he loves how you feel pressed against his body. But when he wants attention, because man's can never just ask smh, he becomes purposefully annoying. And he's really good at it

I just know he likes pushing your buttons and getting you all mad 🙄

Katsuki is a cuddle bug. I know I've already said it but cuddling is usually his solution for small arguments when all that's left for him to do is apologize.

katsuki is not good at saying sorry but cuddles are the best way for him to show you.

If you're tense he's going to grumble at you like "what the hell is stressing you out." you might interpret it as him thinking you have nothing to be stressed about but he wants to know what it is so he can help you, either by giving advice or just rubbing your sore muscles and letting you vent.

He'll yell at your for getting sick, but do it as he's making you food "so you can get better faster." He'll have figured out what your favorite sick food is and make it for you until you're better. Will be extra soft on you because he's actually weak when it comes to you and he hates when you don't feel well.

Normally when you're on the couch together, he's sitting on the opposite side doing something on his phone. And it's not in a get away from me kind of way, it's just because he likes his space but that doesn't mean he doesn't like when you crawl over and lay against him or ask for kisses

He likes a little pda, though. If you both are at a friend's house and everyone's piled on the couch, he'll pull you into his lap. And he doesn't let you leave without pinching your hips when you pull away from him, or lightly tapping your ass (but it's all in good fun hehe)

His favorite part of the day is when you are both getting into bed and catching up on each other's day. Even if you don't spend a lot of time together (he is a pro hero after all) he loves that he gets to come home to hear what happened to you that day.

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Tysm for reading!! Haven't been doing a lot of writing but I had this guy sitting in my drafts so I touched it up a bit so I wouldn't leave yall hanging too long 💕

Masterlist

#bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugo fluff #katuski bakugou #bakugo #bakugou #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katuski #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugo #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou x y/n #ao3 bakugou #bakugo x female reader #bakugo x gn reader #bakugo x gender neutral reader #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou x gn!reader #bakugou x gender neutral reader

[eddieshellfxre]

How can I resist

Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Eddie and y/n have always had a comfortable and flirtatious friendship, but i guess it all comes down with a little alcohol and leather

Content: 18+ unprotected PiV sex, creampie, swearing, alcohol, smut, kink

a/n i have been gone for so long, but i took advantage that im on bed rest to finish up this one that ive had in my drafts for a while.

reblog and like if you do ♡

masterlist

Tuesday night, like any other Tuesday night it was Corroded Coffin night, with that your best friend Eddie always picked you up, and like always you were running late when you hear the doorbell ring

“shit shit” you say worried “mom can you please open its Eddie, i just got out of the shower” you hear the door close downstairs and try to find a towel big enough to wrap your body in, you manage to find one but it barely covers your ass cheeks. You run to your room to find Eddie already there “hi, im so sorry i’m late, ill be quick i promise” you kiss him on the cheek and run to your walk in closet

“its alright we got time, i was just bored at home…. Decided to drop by early” he pauses looking at the clothes you have displayed on your bed, alongside it your bra and panties “damn” he whispers as he stares at the lace lingerie set.

“oh but still i dont want you to be late. Ill just get dressed and do my makeup” You run back to your room still in nothing but your towel and grab your clothes and underwear. Eddie lays down on your bed, resting on his elbows waiting for you.

You get your bra on and panties, and put on some new black leather pants, you stare at your self in the mirror and notice that the outline of your panties shows up in the tight pants “fuck it” you remove your leather pants and panties and decide to go commando, no one is gonna notice it anyway, and besides it looks way better. Top part you decide to pair it with a corset like top with some red detailing around the front. You try and tie it well but you can't do a knot behind your back “Eddie???” you call “i need your help, can you tie a knot behind my back please” you say as you walk back into your room. Eddie sits up straight once he sees you “what?” you ask as you notice he's not moving

“i—i nothing you just—you look great” he says nervously “c’mere ill help you” You turn your back to him, so he can tie the knot, Eddie totally wasn't aware of the big mirror in front of you, so he didnt hide the fact at he was completely starring at your ass, you blush at his reaction, butterflies go crazy in your stomach, you couldn't deny he had some type of effect on you but you tried your best to hide it “there you go sweets, all done”

“thank you, Eddie, all i need is my makeup” you walk over to your dresser and lean over it to do your eyeliner, once again noticing how Eddie is completely starring at you while sitting on your bed “you alright Eddie? You keep starring at me?” you point out

Eddie breaks his eye contact, cheeks flush red he says “i just think you should dress like this everyday, it looks—great”

“oh stop it, i look normal” you finish your makeup and put on your high-heeled boots “all set, what do you think?” you say while he takes your hand and twirls you around

“i think—“ he says pulling you in “you look hot” sliding his open palm down your back, resting just above the curve of your ass, “you’re not wearing any underwear are you?” he smirks

“i think you’ve stared at my ass for way too long sir, it's time to go”. It was comfortable with Eddie, you have known him all your life, you know absolutely everything about each other, the flirtatious conversations were just part of your friendship, none of you ever acted upon it. you let go of his hold and grab his hand and make your way to his van.

The ride to the Hideout was short, especially with Eddie driving. You arrive there with Eddie’s arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close, you walk up to the bar

“hi Betty” you greet the bartender

“hi y/n, sup Munson you ready for tonight? heard the turn up is pretty big” she says “the usual im presuming? Beer and a whiskey for the lady?” you give her a smile and a wink as she pours you a glass of whiskey.

You look over at Eddie and see he's a bit restless

“you alright Eds?” you ask

“yeah, no im—yeah im fine im just a bit nervous tonight thats all” he takes a sip of his beer and looks at his watch “im gonna go on in like 15 minutes i need to get ready, so let's do a check” he says placing his hands at your hips

“alright then” you start saying as you begin your weekly routine ritual “teeth? Check hair? Check! You’re good to go Munson, give ‘em hell” you pull him in for a quick peck on the lips as always, his hands clenched together at your touch, you tried to make nothing of it, since it was a normal thing you always did, it was sort of good luck kiss. He gives you a wink and walks away, no one could deny the grip he had on you didnt make you absolutely melt but—

“you guys make such a cute couple” Betty says interrupting your train of thought

“we’re not a couple Betty, we’re best friends”

“honey, the way he looks at you all the time isn't just friendly, besides what kind of friends kiss each other holding onto you like that?” she laughs

“best friends! it's a good luck ritual we’ve always done, before any big event in our lives… its no big deal” you excuse yourself. Betty laughs and goes on to attend other customers. Shortly after you see Robin and Steve enter the venue, you wave at them as they make their way to you

“dont you look hot” Robin says with a smile

“hi Robin, how are you?” you say politely

“no yeah you’re right Hi y/n….. You look fucking hot” she says smiling again

“hi Steve” you say with a hug

“hey sweetheart, has Eddie gone on yet?” he says

“he should be going up any minute now—there he is” you say smiling, your face absolutely lights up when you see him, god he’s beautiful! You smile at him, and he returns with a wink as usual. He made you feel special, always have!

Corroded Coffin started playing and everyone was just having the time of their lives, dancing and singing along! Eddie like usual kept his eye on you the entire time, god he's beautiful, you love staring at his fingers move quickly along the neck of the guitar… its hot As the show continued, you, Robin and Steve get to talking

“they are gravity defying!” Robin says, somehow the conversation turned to your boobs “literally cannot fit anything between them!! Look at how tight they are pressed together” she says to Steve

“im i may… im looking respectfully… but she's right” Steve says taking a shot straight after

“i bet i can fit a shot glass between them” you joke

“if you can, ill take a shot of it” Robin says with a smile, you laugh at her but decide to play the game.

You grab onto a shot glass and squeeze it between your boobs, far enough where it’s stable “Betty, give me something to pour” you say. Betty hand you a bottle of vodka and you pour it down “go on then, take the fucking shot” Robin seemed nervous, but she was down for it, you push your chest up, and she takes the shot glass with her mouth and drinks it up

“ah, i did it” she says pulling the weirdest face “most exciting thing that ever happened in my life” she laughs.

Steve was silent, no words no nothing, he just kept taking sips of his beer. He knew it would be pointless to say anything to Robin, she would just do it anyway!

The conversation continued, and the show came to and end, with that Eddie came straight to you after the show

“sooooo” he starts “how was it?” he says fixing his bangs

“you were so goooood!!! im so proud of you” you say giving him a hug

“Eddie i took a shot out of y/n’s boobs, it was awesome” Robin interrupts. Eddie quirks an eyebrow at the two of you. “with a shot glass might i add…. It was great you should try it” she says without thinking. Your mind went blank, she really needs to shut up sometimes.

“i—i dont think so” Eddie says nervously “its—its im alright”

“c’mon Munson, man up and do it”

“im alright with it, its just a shot”

“no make it interest…. Tequila shot! Lick the salt of her too” Robin says, a cheeky grin forming up on her face, she loves an uncomfortable situation.

This cannot be happening, how were you gonna control yourself. Betty pours the tequila in the shot glass between your boobs, and sprinkles the salt from your chest to your neck, handing you a slice of lime

“you ready Munson?” he nods as he holds onto your waist with both hands, just this alone made you weak already, he lowers his mouth to the glass taking it and drinking up the liquid pulling you in closer you feel his tongue lick the salt from your chest, your eyes close as you feel his tongue licking the salt of your chest, you can't help you let soft moan escape, hoping Eddie couldn’t hear but the way he squeezed your hips made you think otherwise, you didnt know what to do, you were getting nervous and felt like things were getting out of hand “lime?” you ask with a smile, handing him the slice. He bites it never breaking eye contact with you. His hold on you became tighter and tighter as the tension between the two of you grew

“excuse me but like get a room” Gareth says “we’re gonna head out you guys are staying? Wanna grab a bite” you both nod your heads yes and make your way of the venue with the rest of the band following right behind.

On your way to Eddie’s van was pretty much normal until you were actually alone in it

“did it weird you out?” you ask in a hush tone, afraid to know the answer

“no, did it weird you out?” he asks

“no!! im comfortable with you i dont care, besides we give each other a peck on the lips all the tim—its no big deal” you say looking away. Eddie drives up to this diner in the middle on nowhere, everyone was already parked there. You take a seat on Eddie’s lap, his hands straight up to meet your hips, holding you in place

“just please dont move” he laughs “for the love of god dont move”

“im sorry, these pants are slippery against your jeans, im trying” you whisper. You try your best to keep your posture but it keeps getting harder…. Everything! Feeling his bulge press into your ass you knew he had to be worked up already. You try to ignore it, it wasn't the first time it happened but this time felt different… why did it kinda feel good? what was happening? this is ridiculous, maybe its just the booze getting to you…. Both of you

The cold Hawkins night breeze was getting to you, you cross your arms to cover yourself from the cold

“you cold?” Eddie asks

“yeah a bit”

“here take my jacket”

“but then you’ll be cold”

“not with you on top of me” you blush and get his jacket on “looks better on you than it does on me” his hands sliding down to your thighs “keep still” he says in a serious tone.

Not long before everyone was done with their food and drives off, you and Eddie do the same.

Arriving at your door the tension kept growing

“you wanna come in for coffee or something?”

“Bit late for coffee dont you think?” he laughs

“just—shut up”

You could feel his gaze on you the entire time you walked up to your room, you still dont know what is happening but you dont really mind it…. i mean its Eddie.

You walk in and Eddie is already making himself comfortable while you try to untie the knot behind your back

“Eddie help me out, i cant get this knot out” you say, pulling your hair over to one side, exposing your neck to him, he helps you untie the knot and starts kissing your shoulder “Eddie?! what are you doing” you ask nervously

“if you dont want this, tell me right now and ill stop” His voice comes from right behind you, big hands gripping your hips to pull you against him, continuing to place sloppy kisses along your neck ” you smell so fucking good”

“Eddie i dont think we—“

“should be doing this? Why we already kiss all the time dont we?” he says mocking your earlier words. Hands on your hips he turns you around, you smile at the ground as you feel his index under your chin, raising for face to his “give me one good reason as to why this is wrong?”

“It could ruin us Eddie i dont want that”

The space between the two of you closes as you feel his lips onto yours, but not like the other times, it’s different!! Its needy, its hot. what began a soft gentle kiss quickly became a clash of teeth and tongue. You feel a smirk forming against your lips once he realizes you’re pulling him closer to you

“you’re that needy huh?” he whispers, next thing you know he's got your bent over your bed while he's standing behind you “fuck you’re hot” he lets out in a sigh, hands straight to your ass, slapping the leather on it slide up, reaching the band of your pants and pulling them down, totally exposing your self to him “oh babyyyy” he whines “i totally forgot you were commando” he lets out a moan, biting his lip. You feel two fingers running up your slit, collecting your juices, your head falls forward at the feeling of his fingers rubbing small circles at your bud, you moan out load when he inserts two fingers inside you, curling them to hit just the right spot to make you absolutely mental “come on princess let me hear you fall apart” he says fingering you from behind

You try to make words come out but your mind is blank as soon as he kneels down behind your and you feel his tongue flat against your pussy

“ohmygodddd” you mewl as he continues to eat you “ohmy—yes just like that” , all these new sensations are overwhelming, no one has ever made you feel like this. His large hands both on your ass, spreading your legs wider

“hmmm baby, you taste so good” he says against you, vibrations of his voice making you go feral

“Ed—Eddie? fuck me, fuck me haaaaard” you manage to say, his mind freezes but his body takes full control, reaching for his belt, undoing his jeans. It doesn't take long until you feel the tip of his dick

“you sure baby? this isn't like kissing” he says smiling, teasing your hole with his dick. You turn your head giving him a serious look “fuckkkkk, you're so tight baby” his head falls back as he feels you tight around him “so good for me” You moan as you adjust to him inside you “it feels so good” he says as he slides in and out of you harder and harder

Your moans fill the room a little too much, you reach out to grab a pillow and sink your face on it to muffle out the sound

His arm snakes around your waist, his middle finger coming in contact with your clit “come for me beautiful” he starts rubbing you in circles, while thrusting in and out of you relentlessly, the knot building up in your stomach soon to be undone begins to gain more and more pressure

“im—im close” you let out softly “ohmygo—now fuckfuckfuck” Eddie thrusts into you a couple more times before pulling out, you soon feel a warm substance coat your ass

“that…. was amazing!! jesus christ” he says falling onto the bed next to you, you continue silent as you try to catch your breath “was it alright for you? Did i hurt you?” he asks sitting up worried.

“It was amazing Eddie” you laugh “im just trying to catch my breath thats all”

“ohh, oh thats cool”

“also…. Can you grab me a towel or something?” you ask shying away “and clean… you know…” your crunch your nose, trying your best not to laugh, he's so out of it its cute

“yes im so sorry, i didnt know if i could come ins— sorry be right back” he gets up and grabs a towel that was left on the floor from your shower earlier, he cleans you up gently and helps you stand up.

You were both so nervous, you have never acted upon your feelings for each other, it felt comfortable but still nerve racking

“thank you, Eddie” you smile, reaching up to his face kissing him, his hands snaking around you hold you close to him, you break away smiling” want coffee?” he replies with a smile, kissing you.

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #eddiemunson #eddiestrangerthings #stranger things #st4 #stranger things eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #reader x eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #eddie munson kink #eddie munson bj #boyfriend eddie munson #eddie munson best friend #bff eddie munson #perv! eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddiemunsonedit #eddiesmut #eddie x fem!reader #eddie smut

[simonnebethel]

WIP Questionnare (tag game)

Tagged by @buffythevampirelover ^^ using A Chant for Blood to answer these! Answering them all out of boredom, but you can answer as many as you like ^^

What was the first part of your wip that you created? ...the first chapter 😅 but tbf the very first scene has changed drastically since then! it was a bit of a 'main character wakes up' cliche so I decided like right after writing chapter 3 it would be changed after the first draft was done.

If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be? oo! Possibly Nothing Else Matters by Apocalyptica. Prob my fave one out of the story's playlist.

Who are your favorite characters you've made? Why? Probably the makoth characters, like Gunilde and Oddvar. and idk 🤷 ive had a soft spot for orcish characters lately, makoth included. Can't forget Karliah, too! She's been with me since middle school.

What other pieces of media do you think would share a fanbase for your story? oooh. i dont know. possibly game of thrones? or any gothic fantasy novel. I actually don't read that much victorian fantasy, so I don't know many. However, Snow White and the Huntsman did influence me a lot, so if that movie has a fanbase I suppose it counts.

What has been your biggest struggle while writing? Creating the magic systems. It's like chemistry for me; my brain just can't work it out. the main magic system, which i have just called Spellwork, feels so underdeveloped, but the other magic system for the Makoth, Skvæla, is a little bit more fleshed out. At some point I have to sit down one day and work the whole Spellwork thing out before I lose my mind 🥲

Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them! There is! Maugr are native to Reyoarfell, and only used by the Makoth. Wolf-like beasts the size of polar bears, with thick fur and short legs to combat the cold climate of Reyoarfell. The makoth only use them for travel or to carry/pull heavy things, they are not suited for combat or racing. These animals are important to them, and are not allowed to be owned by anybody outside of the country.

How do your characters get around?(ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.) Mostly by horseback or carriage, as trains haven't been invented yet. But also, the first book is contained in one city so they don't need anything else to travel long distance. However! Portals to travel between countries do exist, but they're rare and expensive to use.

What part of your wip are you working on? I'm currently editing the early chapters, getting it ready to look for beta readers. Adding more scenery and sensory descriptions, changing a few things about the characters, trying to find a way to make the plot twists less obvious before they're revealed 😅

What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in? Hmm. victorian fantasy, knight lady, eldritch being, vampiric lizard man, body horror, corruption arc, and monster hunting are the ones I can thing of off the top of my head 😅

What are your hopes for your wip? That there's people out there that would at least enjoy reading my novel, and love the characters as much as I do :)

Open tag to whoever wants to join! No pressure ^^

#A Chant for Blood #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #my writing #fantasy #victorian #my ocs #ask game #writers

[bubacorn]

infodump on sleep token :D i wanna learn more ab the boys

i'm so sorry, this has been sitting in my drafts for way too long gods, i'm definitely not the right person to ask, so this is gonna be more of a shitpost with my ramblings

okay, so, somehow this is all the same person and he (co-)wrote some of the most fucked-up [affectionate] music I've ever heard. i think Vessel is a great example that you don't have to be perfect just because you're a performer, you can let people see rawness (without ever seeing the real you, mind you), because they'll be able to connect to you based on your shared emotions. being human is scary, it's messy and complicated, but Sleep Token's music makes it feel more okay. there is something about hearing their discography and being able to connect on some level to the music and the lyrics, then seeing them perform that is truly incredible

i am both awed by and afraid of II. he is so visibly dedicated to his craft and he makes it look so easy. his drum parts are immaculate, Sleep Token's music made me focus more on the drums, and it makes me want to try drumming. also, love his gestures, his emotions and how he's the (not so) quiet backbone of the band. he deserves all the recognition and praise and more

i bet III gives great hugs, i don't know why, he just gives me that vibe. another thing that's great to see with this band is the members genuinely having fun on stage, both just playing their music and interacting and jamming with each other. i don't think i would like it if III screamed at me, but i love it when he hypes the crowd and how he is so unapologetically himself, jumping, kicking and bothering Vessel when he plays the piano

thinking about IV from a few years ago hiding at the side of the stage and standing in place and IV dancing to The Summoning with jingle bells last December. dad dance IV, reindeer IV, unicorn IV. IV doing vocals for Rain (hope we can hear more of that in the future) and Vore. his stage presence is so chill but super cool at the same time. i definitely don't have the voice or the confidence for it, but i would love to be able to just let my voice out like him and look so effortlessly full of rizz

this really wasn't an infodump, i'm very sorry about that. it turns out i can't ramble about them without concrete prompts/questions (or it might be the sleep deprivation). either way, thank you for the ask, i hope you're doing okay! 💜 if you would like actual useful info about the eepies i can try and point you in the right direction to the wonderful people of ST tumblr

#buba answers #(poorly)

[trashworldblog]

i think the "nice doing business with you" line from the s5 finale is definitely going to have significance to season 6. there are too many examples of innocuous lines that end up being foreshadowing to overlook it. it's also a general rule of genies that they can't bring things back from the dead, so i think that's going to end up playing into whatever the "deal" with ryan was. the genie could've said it was against the rules to bring prof back, so ryan made another deal to get him back (1/2)

[i think there's also going to be a conflict with time travel in season 6. it's such an integral part of the show, and ryan definitely screwed the timeline by bringing prof and his family back. if we hadn't seen the article with the photo of the prof and his parents' fossils, then i would be a little less convinced of this, but because its explicitly shown onscreen, its very likely that something will go wrong with the timeline (2/2)

oh i also think that the substitute survived defenestration, but i think he's going to be a minor antagonist next season. just a nuisance, if you will. like yeah he's still a problem, but there are much bigger fish to fry than a 1'2" puppet hologram with an obsession with murder (3/3)]

...

sorry for taking so long!! this has been sitting in my drafts and ive been slowly pulling my thoughts together on this so its taken me some time!! (plus ive been chillin with the holidays and such) i appreciate this ask so much!

!disclaimer! i may accidentally pull from shane's commentary on the season finale on pateron. im doing my best not to because i know some people dont have access to patreon content. (plus its fun to make it more challenging) all puppet history lore is like marbles in my brain and its hard to separate what ideas came from where. im doin my best tho!

ok lets jump into it!

i am So. Curious. on how ryan and the genies whole deal is gonna shake out. was that it? will there be consequences? i have a feeling we'll be seeing some kind of fallout from this wish. it feels like they cut their conversation very short for a very specific reason. theres gotta be something going on there.

I think that ryan didnt *technically* wish the professor back to life, he just wished the professor back to the present. i also like the idea used in @ask-the-substitute that ryan used his 3 wishes to bring the professor back and thats how the profs mom and dad got to the present. its so perfect, i love it. just the idea of ryan thinking the first wish didnt work so then he tried again, and again. incredible.

i am curious if there is gonna be any time travel conflict! im not sure what that would look like (my brain kinda melts when it comes to timey wimey bullshit). honestly this is the part im the most unsure of. like theyre probably is consequences, but i dont even know where to start for what that would look like. i still like to think that the article showing the professor's family's bones just faded away like how people in photos did in back to the future.

the substitute ABSOLUTELY survived the defenestration!! watcher hq is one story and im slightly convinced the substitute cant die (unless we go by hot daga hologram logic, in that case you would need a witch and a volcano to kill most holograms [and i dont have a volcano handy])

i hope the substitute turns into either

1) a minor villan thats more annoying/funny then anything.

2) character redemption arc. we really like this funky guy and it would be cool to see him chill out with the stabby stabby. (just a little, he can stabby stabby as a treat)

now it would be REALLY FUNNY if the substitute did ad reads for future seasons Especially for nord vpn and other online security stuff.

i think the bigger fish to fry is gonna be those puppets trapped in the wonderium arena!! we gotta get them outta there and back into their earthly bodies!! how is that gonna happen??? god is asleep, the devil isnt gonna help, and neither is the genie. how the hell do you even get to a purgatory like that? dorthy ruth has moved on even though her husband isnt really dead!!!

what im really curious about for next season is

1) who is gonna be the musical guest. if the professor cant time travel, where is he gonna get his musical talents? will he reuse the substitutes tech to make guests?

2) any new stuff to go with our new professor??

3) are dino mom and dad gonna be involved? casually mentioned? i really hope a guest asks if the professor has a family just so that he can excitedly say "yes!! i do :D"

those are most of my thoughts going into s6! pretty excited to see what next season is going to look like! not sure if its gonna be lore heavy. ill be keeping an eye peeled for any hints 👀 either way, im excited to learn :)

#thanks for the ask! #puppet history #watcher #shane madej #ryan bergara #watcher entertainment #we are watcher #the professor #beth's lore dump

[fairyhaos]

"if anyone else wants to come and discuss the colours i put for the members in my inbox.... yall can RUN here i wanna talk about it so bad" all you had to do was ask, yena <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)>

i actually don't know if i have synesthesia (but when i was a kid i would associate personalities(?) with the letters of the alphabet as well as numbers ? ? idk how to explain it but 3 would be this rly sweet character whereas the number 4 would be a bit on the shyer/quieter side,,, does that make sense ? bye where is this going O⁠_⁠o) but when i first saw ur post about cheol being burgundy it was just so,,, aaa idk it just made so much sense ? it was so intriguing that my mind had already associated certain colors w some of them and idk you gave me something really interesting to think about ! ! i even ended up writing something for the 95line bcs i was so inspired !!

i chose wine red for cheol (i was so close to picking burgundy lmao), pastel pink for hannie and silver for shua <3 i made some of my irls even read that stuff and they liked it so will it be ok if i share it w you too ? ? i don't mind sending it to you on anon bcs i just wrote that for fun and quite frankly i don't think it's worth stealing anyway lmao ⊙⁠.⁠☉ but yeah !! pls lmk if you'd like to read those bcs this already got so long and i spoke nothing of value here rip,, and oh do you have any emoji anons ? i would like to be 🎐 anon if that's okay ? if not, then that's fine too >:) i hope ur day has been treating you well so far !! <3

hii omg let's talk colours!!

ive never seen someone associate numbers w personalities before (then again i literally know NO ONE else with synaesthesia lmao) but that's really interesting! all i know is that the even numbers are some form of orange/brown/yellow/red for me

i think synaesthesia is So intriguing and when i was a child i didn't even realize it was not normal to see colours for people and words until i told it to others and they were like "wait what, that's not normal" so yeah, im glad it gave you something to think about too!

wine red and burgundy omg you and me 🫶🫶🫶 that really is so close! the jihan colours are also vv interesting,, jeonghan as pink is something i can definitely see haha but for me jeonghan is literally everything colour and also transparent and clear at the same time so

and joshua! i have shua's synaesthesia just sitting in my drafts basically BEGGING for someone to request it bc i. i love his colour so much and it's so strong and even though i can't find any colour on earth that looks like the colour in my head perfectly i still love it so much. i think you'll love it too when i post it bc... again there's a crazy similarity here (but kinda in a different way,,, you'll have to see what i mean later on HAHA)

i would LOVE to see your writing for the 95 line! seeing the reasoning/ the feelings of the colours and how you describe it interests me so much. ive always wanted someone to share colours and reasoning of colours with, so of course!!!

this is such a long answer haha but also yes you can definitely be 🎐anon! i have a couple of named anons i think? but i haven't heard from any of them apart from the first ask they sent me so im not too sure <3

hope you're doing well too!

#fairyhaos.answers #🎐.anon <3 #you dont wanna know how long it took me to find thay emoji lmao #ask #anon ask #lovely anon <3

[bi-bats]

hello!! i was just wondering, since the damitim fic is ongoing, does this mean know yourself updates are slowed/paused? (not a complaint i’m loving both!!)

Hiya!! Sorry that I never give easy answers 😂

So yes, Know Yourself updates are slower (not paused or on hiatus!! I am working on it still), but it's not because of the DamiTim fic.

I've been writing Know Yourself for over a year now (even though I haven't been posting it that long) and I'm just struggling with getting the words on the page to be what I want them to be. The plot is sorted out and I'm content with what I'm going to make happen, but also when I think about the fic my brain starts to feel the way my eyes do when I stare at a screen too long 😂 so I'm trying to be patient with myself and let myself take my time with it instead of pushing something out that I'm really not happy with, because 1) I think it'll show, 2) I'll just burn myself out, and 3) if I treat it like a chore it'll never get finished.

Also I've realized (post-jaytimweek) that I prefer writing in present tense, it makes everything feel more natural to me and I can control some writing things like timing and flow a little better and I WROTE OVER 100K WORDS IN PAST TENSE FOR THAT FIC AND I'M NOT FUCKING SWITCHING NOW!!!! SO I GUESS I GOTTA FINISH IT IN PAST TENSE!!!!

And also we're at the point in the plot of Know Yourself where I'm really stepping on the gas on the number of things happening per chapter, and the chapters are overwhelmingly long. And I would love to simply be more brief, but everything happening is relevant to the plot, so. Sigh.

Now, the DamiTim fic.

That one is just going up because that fic is happening to me. I can't prevent that fic from occurring. I would love to think about something else, actually! That boy is so unwell! But that's what I'm feeling inspired about and lately I've only been able to write when something worms into my brain and I have to put it on the page immediately no matter where I am or what I'm doing (I have a newish manager who doesn't know how to write a schedule, so I'm currently on day 7 of a ten day stretch of work where I only had one day off, which I had to spend doing all my chores and then hosting D&D. So basically, gone are the days off where I could just sit at my computer and write for a day 😭😭😭).

Also, Ive been having problems with Know Yourself since May, but the DamiTim fic is just fucking pouring out of me fugue state style. My brain hasn't latched onto DamiTim and released Know Yourself in favor of it, it's that the claws of Know Yourself began to unsink from my flesh like, 2 months ago and DamiTim saw its chance. Like, this isn't about to be a cute analogy, but I feel like I'm vomiting out the DamiTim fic because it's a virus. It can't be in my brain anymore okay? I need it out. And it feels like a shame to have like, almost 40k words of it written and just sitting in my drafts when I could be updating it (which I'm sure you appreciate if you're loving that one too 😂), and it has the added benefit of yall knowing I haven't abandoned the fandom/preventing yall from thinking that something horrible has happened to me!

Tldr/to reiterate: yes I'm slowing down on Know Yourself, but it's not because of any of the other chaptered fics I'm working on.

Anyways, sorry this got long and ranty, I think I needed to vent all this out anyways so thank you for giving me a chance to do that!! And also thank you for phrasing your ask the way you did, I really appreciate you specifying that you're not complaining 😂 this is a valid question (that did not upset me but could've if the phrasing was different) and I didn't feel pressured so thank you!!! Ily anon 💕💖💚

#🥸 anon ask #batsasks #know yourself #bibatrambles #i hope this doesn't read like me feeling like I had to justify myself bc fr I don't feel like that #i just wanted to kvetch for a little bit 😂 #everyone play nice with anon I'm not upset with them 💕

[auroraescritora]

THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME - PERCY/NICO AU HIGH SCHOOL - CHAPTER XVI

Hi, how are you? I managed to translate the chapter just in time.

The chapter was going to come out earlier, but because of the holiday in Brazil I've allowed myself to rest. I've definitely given up on having a posting schedule, but I'll try to update every week. So, just come by once a week, on Friday, because if I post something it'll be ready on Friday. And, like, consider the texts here as initial drafts, okay? I'm still in my creative phase, and I love putting sub-plots and other things in the middle of the main plot. If I followed my original plan, I would have finished the story by now. So, let's relax and have fun. Thanks for being here!

Not too many warnings apart from mental health, I hope you like it.

CHAPTER I / CHAPTER II / CHAPTER III / CHAPTER IV / CHAPTER V / CHAPTER VI / CHAPTER VII / CHAPTER VIII / CHAPTER IX / CHAPTER X / CHAPTER XI / CHAPTER XII / CHAPTER XIII / CHAPTER XIV / CHAPTER XV

Nico put the pen down on the last page he had written and rested the diary next to his pillow, stretching his arms and neck. He had written more than he had intended. Well, Percy was in for a bit of a surprise when he read it. But in the end, Percy was right, writing had taken the pressure off his shoulders that Nico hadn't even known was there to begin with. It was a magical moment, as he put his thoughts down on paper, his mind felt light and empty, as if he was telling what was bothering him to someone who wouldn't judge him and wouldn't try to give him 'advice' he hadn't asked for.

Tired of waiting, Nico lay down on the bed and put his head on the pillow. Why was Percy doing taking so long? The next thing he knew, he had closed his eyes, opening them again to feel something soft slide over his body. It was a damp, warm towel that Percy was holding. Nico blinked slowly and then Percy's figure came into view, wet hair and bare chest, wearing only a towel as he gently cleaned his body.

"Would you like a bath?" Percy murmured, moving closer to him, making him sit against the edge of the bed. "I filled the tub for you.”

"I could." He shrugged, it seemed like a good idea. Nico rarely saw any reason to use the bathtub.

So Percy took him by the hand and led him into the bathroom, asking: 

"How do you feel?”

He didn't know. A slight burning that pulsed inside him, maybe? Muscle and mental fatigue? A relaxation he had never felt before? It was all of this together and more. In general? Nico felt good, or as good as possible, similar to when he hadn't run away to Italy yet, maybe even better, now that he didn't need to hide his feelings.

"I'm fine." Nico shrugged again.

"Do you remember our rules?”

Unfortunately, Nico remembered. Percy must have been referring to always being honest.

"I don't know." Nico said, trying to be as honest as he could. "It's all too new for me to have an opinion.”

"Nico.” 

He stopped and faced Percy, who now had his arms crossed.

"You have to stop this. Don't tell me what I want to hear”.

"What do you want me to say?”

"What you're really feeling. Does something hurt? Do you need anything?”

"Why are you always questioning me?”

"Because you're always trying to please me.”

"What's wrong with that?”

He looked at Percy, but Percy looked at him like he was going to explode. None of that happened, though. Percy took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again, an aura of calm was present. It was one of those moments where Nico knew he wasn't going to win, no matter what he did. So he let Percy lead him to the bathtub and lathered him up slowly and leisurely.

"You don't see the problem with that? Do you?" Percy asked distractedly, his hands sliding down between Nico's legs.

"Things have always been like this.”

"That's why I didn't go after you.”

"I don't think I understand.”

"I discovered that I... can't control myself around you. I made you act this way. I put you in this perfect, unbreakable little box. No one should live like that, according to someone else's wishes.”

"That's not true, I've always been like that.”

"Really? It took you five years to say all those things to me. If you didn't feel comfortable telling me how you felt before, what does that mean?”

Nico turned to face Percy, who had a distant look on his face, and realized that this bothered Percy more than he thought.

"I don't like fighting. I prefer things to stay that way.”

"Like what?”

"No conflict and no drama. I don't want to have to think about every step of the way. I just want to be with you and... satisfy you. Isn't that enough?”

"I can't do that." Then Percy grabbed his face and slid his fingers to the back of his neck, massaging it slowly and making him relax even more. "How can I be sure I'm not hurting you or stopping you from doing other things?”

"That's the point, isn't it? You feel guilty about wanting the same things I do.”

"Nico, don't torture me.”

"I'm not." He didn't think he was. "When I don't want... this thing we have, you'll know. 

"How?”

"I'll run away. Not like today. But, like, as if my life depended on it.

"Nico!”

"You know, when people try to get close to me, I usually feel suffocated. But when it's you, I just feel free and safe, even if I'm scared.”

Nico thought he was losing his mind, looking like a lunatic on the edge of a cliff. But it was the pure truth, what he looked for in all those faces, wasn't the beauty or the deep green eyes, no, it was always that feeling of security and stability, the comfort that Percy's arms always gave him. For those things were hard to emulate; if only he could have found this somewhere else, Nico wouldn't have felt so controlled and conditioned to do those things that Percy criticized so much, even though Percy had never asked for them. In the end, he understood what Percy was trying to imply; things would only get worse from now on, and they would probably continue this game of cat and mouse for a long time until he gave in. What could Nico do if Percy was the only one who made him feel this way, so free and trapped at the same time?

"Nico." Now Percy's voice sounded all hoarse and firm.

Opps. He looked down and saw that his hand was in Percy's lap, on top of the towel, but in a very strategic place.

"Why can't you tell me what's bothering you?”

He denied it, not ready to say what he really thought to Percy. Although he knew Percy felt something similar or worse. Nico had seen how much Percy had tried to get over him with other people, before and after he went to Italy. So, deep down, arguing was pointless. They needed a consensus.

"This will lead to nothing. I suggest a truce." Nico said, instead of explaining himself.

"Truce? This is not a war.”

"So why all we do is fight and have sex? I'd much rather just have sex.”

This brought a little smile to the corner of Percy's lips.

"What do you suggest?”

"l will... trust you and do whatever you ask if you stop questioning me.”

Now, Percy just looked sad.

"I don't want you to feel bad and cornered. I just worry. I want you to be the best possible version of yourself.”

"What if I just want to be the Nico who wants to be with Percy and not have to argue?”

"That's fine. We can do it your way. You have to promise me that if it's not working, you'll tell me.”

"I promise.”

All Nico could do was hope for the best and try to keep his end of the bargain.

***

When they woke up again, the sun was high in the sky, the morning already giving way to afternoon at a milder temperature. They were still in bed, his head on Percy's shoulder and Percy's arms around his waist. Finally, the silence was lasting more than five minutes. They didn't need to do anything or be anywhere other than there, where they had chosen to be.

"Hungry?" Nico heard Percy say quietly, his voice hoarse with sleep.

"No.”

"Not at all? Sally will come here soon, to see if we're still alive.”

That would be funny. Nico could even imagine Sally opening the door and catching them in bed like that, naked and hugging. It would be great. 

With this thought haunting him, Nico disentangled himself from Percy and sat down on the bed, feeling slightly dizzy but content, stretching until he fell backwards, closing his eyes. Maybe he needed something to eat. When was the last time? Had he even eaten anything at the party or just drunk?

"Tired?”

Nico sighed and gave in, knowing that his peace was about to end. He lay on his side of the bed and stared at Percy, who didn't look happy at all.

"Not much.”

"You know, I think we should create a system.”

"I think--”

"Every time you lie to me you will be punished.”

"You said you wouldn't doubt me!”

"It's not a doubt when I know the truth, when I see you lying to me.”

"What do you want me to do?”

"Tell the truth or say nothing at all.”

"Oh.”

"Are you going to spend the rest of your life keeping quiet to please me?”

That was a good question. It was hard to go back into the darkness when you could see so much light.

"This isn't funny." He muttered, feeling something inside his chest spread.

"Yeah. Imagine how I feel watching you lower yourself, being less than you could be.”

"I don't do it all the time.”

"No?”

"Only with you.”

Then Nico saw Percy reach out and touch his face in a light caress.

"I hate what I did to you, what your father did.” 

"You didn't do anything." His father, on the other hand, was a different story.

"I molded you into this perfect person who is afraid of offending anyone.” 

"That's not true! I…”

"I want you to scream if you want. I want you to hit me, to curse me if you feel like it. To revolt. Demand it. I never want to see you so hurt again.”

Maybe Percy was right. But did he really have to do these things? Wasn't something he could see himself doing.

"Don't get me wrong. You don't have to. But if you want to, or one day do these things, it's okay and completely normal”.

"Normal? How can doing these things be normal?”

"Gods." Percy hugged him tighter and leaned his head on Nico’s shoulder. "You don't have to be perfect. Do you understand that?”

But if he's not perfect, no one will like him. How could Nico not be what he already was?

"It's all right." Percy said, but Nico had the impression that Percy was saying this to himself.

In the end, Nico chose to keep quiet. What he had to say wouldn't make any difference, and maybe Percy was right. If he had nothing good to say, he'd better keep his mouth shut.

***

"Gods, what has Percy done to you?!”

As soon as they got downstairs, Sally greeted them with a loving smile and tight hugs. That is, that's what happened until Sally saw the bruise on Nico's neck; a bruise that was actually a well-placed hickey. 

"Mom, you're exaggerating.”

Nico, poor thing, looked between them, trying to understand what was going on. And Percy, like a good Samaritan, helped him to understand it. As if on cue, Percy put his hand on Nico's neck and Nico moaned. Whether it was pain, surprise or pleasure, was hard to tell. Whatever it was, it made his heart race and something else wake.

"Oh." Nico then said, bringing his hand up to his neck. "I didn't realize. It’s very ugly?”

"I wouldn't say that.”

He heard laughter behind him, but preferred to concentrate on Nico, who was frowning sweetly and taking his cell phone out of his pocket, looking at himself in the reflection of the screen.

"Percy! What were you trying to do? Tear off a piece?”

"You are not the only one." Percy opened the first two buttons of his shirt and showed his set of marks, small nails and the shape of teeth that went down until they disappeared inside his shirt.

"I... I didn't do this! Did I?”

"And much more.” 

Percy couldn't help himself, he laughed and pulled Nico into a hug, kissing his cheek. But everything seemed to be fine, because as soon as Percy hugged him, Nico melted against his shoulder, hugging him back.

"It's all right. You can bite me all you want, I like it. "And the way things were going, Nico liked it too.

Percy heard a snort and turned to look at Sally, who didn’t seem all that happy about the display of... affection.”

"Percy Jackson! That's not how you treat people.”

"It was something mutual. And if you must know, Nico started it. You can ask Annabeth, she was the first to see. See here? It was the first." And, right at the nape of his neck, where his hair was starting to grow long, there was a mark that was beginning to fade.

Nico hid his face in his shoulder and Sally crossed her arms. And before another wave of complaints arrived, Percy hurried over:

"Permission to maim?" Nico nodded yes, too embarrassed to face the room full of witnesses, which didn't stop the cursing, laughter and protests.

"That's enough." Sally raised one of her hands to her face and turned to Nico, making him raise his face. "Are you all right, darling? How was the party? Better than old times, no?”

Immediately, Percy knew something was wrong. Suddenly, Nico opened his mouth, about to say something and then closed it, cowering against his arms. The worst part was seeing Nico raise his head and look at him, as if waiting for Percy's permission for something, keeping his lips sealed tightly. He heard another gasp and realized that everyone was waiting for Nico to answer. Grover, Tyson and Sally all found Nico's behavior strange.

All that was left for Percy to do was smile and lead Nico into the living room to sit with him on the sofa.

"What's going on, hm?”

But all Nico did was deny it and look down at his lap, refusing to face him. 

"Please.”

This made Nico look between his eyelashes at him and take a deep breath: "I thought about what you said last night.” 

"About not lying?”

"About keeping quiet.”

Something in Percy's chest tightened at that moment, and hoping it wasn't what he thought, he asked: "Why would you keep quiet?”

"You said that if I was going to lie, I should keep quiet, and since I have nothing important to say, I'll do as you say.”

Percy thought he had stopped breathing. 

He wasn't serious! Who would follow such a ridiculous order? He just wanted to make Nico respond in any way other than accepting everything without protest, he wanted to make him react and see what was going on. And instead, Nico decided to go along with it in the worst possible way?

"Baby, please. I was wrong. I just wanted you to react.”

"React how?”

"In any way you want." Percy then smiled, trying to encourage Nico. "Come on, you can shout at me. You can swear at me. I've done something very bad. I deserve punishment.”

"Punishment?" Nico tilted his head like a confused puppy and moved closer. He kissed him on the lips in a sweet, gentle kiss and touched his hair, smiling angelically. "That's it. Your punishment.”

Percy wanted to cry. Why did everything he said seem to come out backwards? Or maybe it was Nico doing the best he could.

"Are you punishing me or  comforting me?”

"If I choose the punishment, you have to accept it.”

Percy let himself go and hugged Nico tightly, hearing him sigh with pleasure.

"I don't deserve you. I just wanted you to feel free to express yourself. You've been kept quiet for so long that I'm afraid the same thing will happen now.”

"I know." Nico murmured softly, looking pleased.

"What you have to say is important, always will be.” 

"I thought that if I kept quiet I wouldn't have to measure my words.” 

"Don't make me cry.”

"You're so silly. "Nico finally said, the only sincere thing in all that. "I made that decision. I had all the freedom in the world, but at the end of the day, I still missed you and the way things were.” 

In the end, life was about decisions and consequences. He continued to hug Percy and understood, Percy was as lost as he was in all this confusion, he understood that it was a period of adaptation and soon everything would return to normal. Now, what that normal was, they both had no idea, since they had never had a common friendship. 

"I'm sorry." Nico said again. "I think it's a period of adjustment. I'll try not to take everything you say so seriously.”

"I'm very happy about that." The truth was that Percy was relieved, thanking all the gods and deities for finding someone so understanding, although he would have liked Nico to be more combative. 

Don't get him wrong, Nico was one of the most independent and responsible people he had ever met, but what Nico had in the way of independence, he also had in the way of emotional dependence. And sometimes that emotional dependence was too heavy for him to carry alone, although he was willing to carry it for the rest of his life if it guaranteed that Nico would stay in his life.

"So, are we okay?" Nico asked, raising his head and peeking at him shyly.

"Of course, baby. As long as you are.”

Nico seemed immediately reassured. And if that’s what Nico wanted, Percy would do his best to sort things out. Obviously, asking hadn't worked it, nor had talking or pressuring. The way would be to do things the traditional way. Not that he knew what he was doing in the past, but if it’d worked before, it would work now.

Smiling, like nothing had happened, he guided Nico back to the kitchen and sat down next to him at the table, discovering too late that everyone had overheard his conversation with Nico. What could he do? Nico's well-being was more important than the disapproving looks. He knew he would soon see the reprimand, and if making a mistake was necessary to put right what he had done, then so be it! Percy would never regret putting Nico first.

"Pancakes or eggs?”

"Pancakes." Nico answered him. So pancakes it was. 

This was nothing new. Nico's favorite foods were sweet, and the savory ones had a nostalgic feeling, from the time when Nico's mother was still alive. So, next to the pancakes and the chocolate topping, Percy placed a cheese croissant in Nico’s plate, along with a glass of juice and a cup of coffee.

It was incredible. It seemed as if nothing bad had happened ten minutes ago. Nico took the first gulp from his coffee cup and smiled like it was the happiest day of his life, diving into his sugary pancakes next. And just like that, as if by magic, the atmosphere was friendly again, Nico chatting animatedly with Sally, while he, Grover and Tyson watched, trembling for the next feast they would be forced to attend.

"Dude, thanks for letting me stay. My mom's back.”

"You can stay as long as you like, it's your house. Why don't you pack a bag and stay until graduation? It won't be long now.

"If a whole year isn't too much..." Both he and Grover shrugged and Grover punched his shoulder amiably, making them both smile. It was a good idea, especially when he and Nico left; his mother would be alone and Grover would always be a great company.

"Really! What are you still doing in that house?”

"Yeah! There'll always be a room for you." Tyson finally deigned to join in the conversation, usually preferring to stay away from the drama. "You already work for us, what does it takes to be part of the family?”

"Do you think working is smiling at customers and taking them to the right table when others can't?”

"Of course it is. You even wear a nice suit and comb your hair with gel." Tyson continued, all too happy to mock Grover, back to their natural routine.

"Shut up! That's not even a uniform. Juniper likes it..." Grover's last words sounded very low, as if he was embarrassed.

And well, who was Percy to interrupt such a sweet and happy moment?

He turned to his food and took the first bite of his eggs, soft and lightly salted, just the way he liked them, and took a sip of his strong coffee without sugar or milk, noticing that Nico had already finished eating and was looking at him with a little smile on his face.

"What is it, hm? Do you want more?”

"No. I like to see you happy and having fun with your friends. You didn't used to do that.”

"It's true. I told you I had problems, didn't I?”

"I didn’t take it seriously. You always seem so determined and confident.”

"That doesn't mean I was right.”

"Hm." Nico murmured, thoughtfully. "I never thought about it from that angle. I think everyone has something to hide. Some people just hide it better.”

"That's just it. The more things we hide, the better actors we are, no?" Percy couldn't help himself, Nico was being so sincere that he deserved a reward. He pulled Nico by the scruff of his neck and kissed him right there in front of everyone, a kiss meant for four walls.

"What was that?" Nico said as soon as he caught his breath.

"A reward for an obedient baby.”

Blushing from head to toe, Nico just looked at him, giving him a cute little peck, but not complaining. What could he do? If that was how Nico understood it, then that was how it would be from now on.

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So? I have the impression that Nico is becoming so dramatic… or is it Percy's view of him? Well, I think Nico thinks Percy is a bit dramatic too 🤣🤣🤣🤣 What's your opinion? Your comments help me to understand the weak points in the story so that I can rewrite it in the best way in the future.

Thanks for reading!

#nico di angelo #percy/nico #my writing #percico #pernico #percy jackson #there's no place like home

[punch-love]

ive been having trouble making time to sit down and write anything concrete recently because of my adhd so i tried what you said in one of the ask prompts you answered where you write a tagline and title at the top of the doc and just go it til you lose steam and oh my god. i was able to bang out 2k words in about an hour or so. im pretty disorganized with my writing especially bc i like to write/brainstorm in my journal and then type it up so ive been kind of stalling for the last month but this has completely changed the game for me. i know youve also mentioned using sticky notes before but i want to know if you have any other things you do youd like to share!

I'm happy to hear it worked for you man! I also have ADHD, so I know how hard it can be to make time and write down something concrete. I don't usually find writing tips or tricks that work for my brain, so it's very cool that I was able to help someone else write with my own methods.

I think I mentioned this one before, but whenever I get in a writing jam, and I'm not sure how to continue something, or I feel stuck, I pull up a random word generator and generate words to use as "mini" prompts. It adds some organic stimulus, while also giving you a chance to look at the scene you're trying to write from a different angle. It's kind of cool how many times I've used this thing and the words it generated worked so well thematically for my project.

I also found that when writing starts to become a chore putting it on my daily to-do list helps because, in comparison to my other "bigger" chores, I am more likely to do something creative because it feels easier to my brain (even if my brain thought it was too hard to do like, ten minutes ago)

I also find that writing kind of a free form draft at the bottom of the document that sums up the emotional beats of the work or next part of the work (especially if you've already started said project) really helps me as a reference point if I kind of get lost directionally.

Peter actually needs Wade’s help. They team up. Wade learns about morality and surprises Peter a little. The no kill rule is set (?) they clap off into the sunset. 

This is a summary I wrote about the next bit for one of my long projects that I tacked on at the very bottom of the project so if I'm ever writing and forget where I'm going, I can look at it, but it's not distracting me or anything. It's also not, like, a big summary - you can't actually get any plot details from this, it's just sort of a vague roadmap of the points you haven't covered yet.

I can't really think of any other specific writing tips right now, but hopefully one of those might be useful to you! Congratulations again on writing. It's so hard to get something from the brain and onto the page, but the hardest part is definitely over. I think the last piece of advice is that it's better to write a shitty rough draft than no draft at all. I always get lost in over-editing even if I've only written, like, a paragraph and have to force myself to word vomit before I reward myself with nitpicky editing.

#mailbox #anon #writing advice #cool questions and also just very happy to have helped someone write a little easier #what's funny is re-reading this summary I have no idea why I used the word clapping #until I remembered that I literally want the last paragraph of this fic to end with them clapping each other and then going their seperate #LMAO #i was like....the clap....???? what - #proof that your summaries also get dated the longer you ignore a project #also jsyn I was avoiding writing all day so by you asking you have inspired me to actually sit down and write #🌟

[ambertpdpmasochistrun]

Alright, so... thoughts.

Let me split this to the Difficulty Corner, and... Amber's Confession Corner asjghJLSGSG

Difficulty

Shinki is the toughest, for sure. Followed by Keiki, then Medicine in the Suzuran Field, and Yuuka. I know Miko is super tough at the start too, but Spooky swept them.

I think I might be able to survive normally against Shinki if I wasn't being STUPID, but Keiki is the biggest curve for sure.

That said, the difficulty... feels very weird by the endgame. It feels like the game is SUPER hard at the first half, then you have to intentionally not grind as much by the end

And now... The Confession Corner

1) Regardless of me putting the 'no lookup' rule, I tried not to look things up to make things more interesting.

Like if you checked the pinned post, this was what I put, and... any Nuzlocker would research things in advance, but... not did I didn't look things up, I can't.

Because there's no guide on the Extended mod other than videos.

The things I did look up are:

Kanako's Team and what she gives when you beat her

A way to counter Satori (I DIDN'T FIND ANYTHING, SO I HAD TO THINK ljaSGHAJLSG)

Shinki's illegal IV + EV stats, and her item

2) I have been planning the Shinki talk for... a very, VERY long time.

It was after like, Play 4 months ago when I actually started thinking how to make it interesting for you guys, so... here's a few drafts which were scrapped at the end until... two days ago? Yesterday?

If you guys want to see the old script, here you go.

I scrapped it because Shinki sounded so cold in it, it felt so out of character ljasghljasg

I hope you guys enjoy the 'final' version rather than the one I drafted initially :D

Bonus 3) Most of the shitposts are just done on the fly, except for two things:

I mean, I KNOW YOU GUYS DO BUT CRINGE IN THE BAD WAY lasgHJALSG

I try not to force humor or anything, so I just kind of let things fly most of the time. But there are two things I planned, which are:

In the case of the narrative when my starter, Spooky, died. SHE DIED SO INCREDIBLY FAST, I WAS KIND OF AT THE LOST FOR A MOMENT THAT I ACTUALLY HAVE TO SIT. I told a few people that Spooky dying threw a wrench into my plans, and it would end up with Shigure and Spooky visiting the first place they visit in the end, and I had to plan what Shigure's going to do next

The whole thing with Shinki, which was mentioned :D

Everything else is just Amber's brain being stupid AJLSGHAJLSASG

But I did make two things which I did not manage to show

4) I have quite a few more rare candies, but...

Let's be honest, no one wants to see 6 Level 100s, right? Well, at least, not me, so I went with the current party OTL

ANYWAYS YEAH THAT'S IT

THANK YOU FOR TUNING IN

#:DDDDDDD #APTPD Play 12

[melnchly-a]

( just a heads up that i’m gonna end up dropping a bunch of threads and updating my muse list with additions / removals this evening! “dropping” threads from drafts isn’t always a permanent thing, so if there’s something i haven’t replied to in a long time that you were really looking forward to - - - and you’re up for a little bit of plotting! - - - just send me a message! ) 

#IVE HAD LIKE SIX COFFEES TODAY (ooc) #(i mostly only drop things when i can't? figure out where to take things next) #(i don't like forcing interactions beyond that point) #(sometimes that just means they've been sitting in my drafts too long though and that's? entirely on me) #(which is why they can (almost) always be revived!)