#posts that make me remember reading things

[greenandsorrow]

the price for misbehaving (ii)

post rut Alastor x gn!reader

WARNINGS; the aftermath of a very horny fic, mentions of deer mating season, friends to lovers, deer/doe!demon!reader, reader with self worth doubts, a sprinkle of angst, curly-haired!Alastor, undertones of Alastor being a momma's boy, mentions of his past, making out, fluff (literally), plot

Dividers by; @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune

Please do not repost or directly copy my work and don't use it on AI platforms either.❤️

From a smutty oneshot to a multi chap fic. Nothing can compare to the chunkiness of the 1st chapter, but I'm satisfied with this one as well. Enjoy you lovely beings and thanks for being patient with me!!! The art above is by @kalico-of-doom.

~masterpost~

The only time Alastor isn't smiling is when he's sleeping you have come to realize. You can't help but notice how tired he looks as you lay motionless beside him. You start petting his ears and he groans softly, nuzzling deeper into your touch without even bothering to open his eyes. A small smile forms on his mouth, a real one. Is this really the same man that has been fucking you until your legs stop working?

In the morning you wake up in his bed, a daily occurrence at this point. However, you weren't expecting him to be staring deeply into your contemned soul.

"A- Al?"

Your voice is hoarse from sleep. You scratch your deer ears, flop on your back and stretch. Alastor keeps staring, studying you and every micro expression you make.

You can feel fear creeping into your gut. Is this the end? Is the rutting season gone? Does he want to kill you and eat you now? Will he kick you out? One thing is certain.

He doesn't need you anymore.

After all, you were just a friend helping him go through a difficult time. Nothing more. Still, you would be lying to yourself if you said that you haven't caught any feelings. From his forceful claiming that hid a great deal of desperation to his tender claiming last night, Alastor has left more than just his mark on you. One could say that he owns you in the most primal and raw of ways, but if he chooses to deny that... that's all it takes really, then you were nothing but a fucktoy.

"Um... I- I'm gonna take a shower"

Is that you doing the walk of shame? Alastor is a gentleman, why isn't he saying anything?! Not a single thing that could make you feel less terrible about the whole situation!

Now that his hormones have died down and you are far from aroused as well, getting out of bed and standing completely naked in front of him... It makes you feel exposed, vulnerable, small and inferior to him.

This new emotion, the deep embarrassment that has your face feeling hot and your stomach to churn with anxiety makes you dress up and leave "your friend's" room in the speed of light.

You lock yourself in your much smaller room, preparing a bubble bath for your spent and tired body. You smile to yourself a little, remembering how Charlie had made sure you'd have your own bathtub so that you can read your books while soaking in the warm water.

Sinking in the water, having it envelope you, cleanse your energy and take his scent off of you feels nice. You let your eyes droop until they close lazily, you allow your shoulders to relax, your jaw to unclench. A long and audible sigh. Your hands around your frame.

You start crying.

If another deer demon resided in the hotel, he might as well had spent his breeding season with them. You weren't special. The mere thought of such a thing is killing you. You were just another victim of the radio demon's manipulation.

Still, it's your fault as well. For believing this was more than what it appeared to be? Maybe. You are getting more and more confused by the minute.

But oh the way he had been repeating your name like a prayer... It must mean something to him, you being there for him that is. You didn't even judge the way he had spilled tears of sexual frustration when handjobs weren't enough to relieve the ache in his loins.

Who else has seen Alastor Hartfelt of pride under this light? No one. You are the only exception. He wouldn't have allowed you to get so close to him if he didn't trust you.

As your thoughts keep overlapping and fighting with each other and you continue to cry softly, you peak up the all too familiar sound of static.

Another unfair thing! He can melt into shadow and go anywhere he pleases... The sound intensifies as he approaches... you? Is he really thinking of invading your space like that? You can't even cry and be miserable at peace! Not like you're in Hell.

"Bonjou! Konmen s'apé kouri? Huh?"

Not only are you not in the mood to ask him to translate what he just said, but Alastor literally spawned in your bathroom and he's now acting like this is okay to do. The way he's readjusting his lapels and smiles smugly like he wasn't a grunting mess last night infuriates you even further.

"Can you please get the fuck out of here?"

"Mh?" he just stands there in his usual apathy. He's even holding his cane.

"Can you at least stop smiling for a second?"

"Oh ho! I'm afraid I can't do that my dear!"

"But you can definitely get your ass out of my room! I-" The sound of your voice carries to your ears like a child whining. There's a lump in your throat that you're beginning to fear you won't be able to keep down for much longer. If your face and hair weren't already wet from the bath, then it would be crystal clear that you were weeping like an idiot before he suit himself in.

Alastor is quick to gauge your body language. You're hugging your knees, shielding your naked body from him. Sometimes you swear he can tell your emotional state by sniffing the air around you. It's like your scent is enough for him to piece together the puzzle you are. The radio demon scranches his nose.

"What's there to be so sad over y/n? Today is a beautiful day!"

Is he playing stupid?! Because if he's doing this on purpose... Well, there's not much you can do now that he doesn't need you anymore.

Your lower lip trembles at this terrible thought and the lump in your throat escapes your notice, resulting in a broken and weak sob to come out of you.

Tilting his head to the side way more than necessary and squinting his eyes, Alastor asks "Are you pregnant?"

You freeze and widen your eyes. "I- Is that even... even fuckin' possible in the afterlife?"

The fucker chuckles!

"Oh I don't think so, at least not for lowly demons such as yourself!" The worst part is that he wasn't trying to insult you by saying that, but rather calm you down.

"Go to Hell."

"Ironic."

You can't help it now. You break down in tears. Your chest feels tight as the sobs ripple through your body and make your frame retreat to itself. In addition to your general misery, the water has gone cold, causing you to shiver.

The overlord places his cane against the tiles of the wall and crouches down so he is eye-level with you. He won't let it show just yet, but Alastor is very worried. There's a guilt eating him from the inside.

While he was in heat, in breeding mode, or whatever you wanna call it, he wasn't fully aware of his actions. Alastor's mind was blurred from the desire to mate and basically reproduce. Now that he's back to his senses, he has come to the unpleasant realisation that he might have caused you harm in the process of letting out his passion.

And this simply won't do! This deer demon has done cruel and vile things that he doesn't particularly feel bad about, but hurting you... He would never be able to forgive himself.

You were there for him and showed him a great deal of love and understanding.

So, that's the reason you left so hurriedly from his quarters... He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. HE DID IT TO YOU.

Alastor's permanent grin fades just slightly. It is replaced by concern, evident in the way he looks at your trembling body in the water. He reaches out to gently touch your skin, checking for any signs of pain or discomfort. Your friend's voice softens, it's now filled with genuine worry and regret.

"I'm so sorry darling... I didn't know I caused you... pain."

It's true that you have many bruises and hickeys decorating various places on your body, but that's not the reason behind your breakdown.

"I- It's not th-" you just look down. You can't even explain yourself.

The radio demon's worry deepens after your vague response and he quickly takes action to be by your side, pulling you out of the bathtub and into a tight hug. Alastor whispers reassurances in your ear, his voice filled with remorse.

"I'm so sorry... We should have stopped when it got too much."

No one has heard Alastor apologize before, not even God, for all that's worth.

His expression softens even further as he sees your tears that just keep coming. He carefully brushes them away, worry etched into every line of his handsome face.

"I didn't mean to make you cry. You must know that."

"I'm not in pain... Just sad."

You do look rather devastated.

Alastor is almost frozen in place from all the guilt since he can now see the bruises forming on your skin. The water camouflaged them, but now they are exposed for him to observe and take in.

He swallows hard, his voice shaking with emotion like never before. "Y/n... I didn't mean to do that. I didn't. None of it."

"None of it?"

Your voice is muffled due to how you have hid your face in his chest. At least he's warm.

"My intention wasn't to cause you injury or physical pain."

You look up at him, finally making eye contact. He's looking at you as well, eyes shining with regret, guilt and what appears to be shame.

What really surprises you though, is the pleading tone of his voice. It's one thing to be vulnerable because he's hungry for sexual contact and another because he genuinely cares for you.

"Can you ever forgive me for this? I promise, it was never my true intention. I just... I got carried away. And now... It's not an excuse..."

"You really meant none of it to happen between us?"

"Now now little deer! Someone's getting ahead of themselves! That's not what I implied at all."

You sigh and settle in his lap.

"Oh mon cher, did you really think I regret our... stimulating times?"

Alastor's long arms press you against him, his clothes absorbing the water on your still bare skin. He then peaks you up bridal style and carries you to your bed. It's not king sized like his but he doesn't seem to care for such detail right now.

"Now let me see you."

"I said I'm fine!"

"The artist will be the evaluator of his work."

"No Al! Artists get critics to evaluate their work."

"Hmmm, did you say something dear? Cause I didn't hear you!"

It's a common tactic of his to hide his real feelings by being chatty and pleasant. You of course know that, but in your current state it's very validating to have him take care of you.

So he did care. And he still does after having stopped necessarily needing you.

Alastor isn't joking around. He's searching your body, subconsciously writing down every scratch, every bruise and hickey, every bite mark.

Ears alert on top of his head, eyes wide open. He can even make out the shape of his fingertips on your hips... He turns you on your stomach only to discover his whole palms are imprinted on your buttocks. Meanwhile, you just allow him to inspect your body for as long as he wishes. All the crying has left you drained but also tranquil and calm.

"I'm fine Al. Really."

"Shhh, I'm not done evaluating the damage."

"It's just a bite or two."

"I drew so much blood..."

"Yes and?"

He just keeps observing, keeps rolling you this way and that. The scratches and the bruises are the most triggering to him. They remind Alastor of unhappy memories, in the days when he still hadn't taken good care of his father. As long as he hasn't permanently marked you it should be fine.

"I'll ask Niffty for some ice."

"N- no... Can we just... sit here? Like... cuddle?"

"You were my solace."

"What-"

He gently presses a finger on your lips to shush you.

"Thank you."

"You don't have to say that. It's not like I helped you with a flat tire or something."

"I don't do cuddling."

"Nor touching for that matter. But... It's not that bad, huh? Just let me put something on first."

You stand up and go to your closet to pick something to put on. Your hair is still wet and your legs still feel sore from all of your intense moments, but it was a relief to know he still wants you in his life after the rut has ended.

Alastor's behaviour makes you wonder. He's contradictory. From fucking your throat in his radio station, to bending you over various objects in the hotel, taking you in missionary, against walls, windows and doors, he still seems pretty reluctant to give himself to intimacy. Unlike those times, his mind is now clear, no overwhelming heat involved. Intimacy -to him- equals vulnerability and vulnerability equals pain. The inevitable way in which things had worked out in his life.

"But we did sleep together until yesterday."

The radio demon cannot deny you. He's already sat at the edge of your bed, taking off his coat, shoes and anything else that could make the experience any less enjoyable.

"I wish I could say you'll take this to your grave."

You grin brightly and chuckle at his silly, little remark. Your confidence has been restored to an extent after he made it clear that he does concern himself with your wellbeing.

"But why do you not like being touched? Physical contact is a form of affection."

"Or a form of punishment, of intimidation, domination and... many other vile things my dear..." His voice is too low for your liking as he says that. You don't know what burdens Alastor's shoulders, but it can't be good. And I'm not even referring to his own cruelty and the pain he has inflicted on others. Maybe his opinion of physical contact is connected to the endless scars on his body.

"Oh well whatevs Al. I just want my cuddles."

The way his ears are pulled back and he looks at you almost like he's a shy and innocent boy makes your heart bit faster. At least there's no velvet rubbing off his antlers this time.

Alastor is extremely gentle and cautious in the way he handles you now. He lays down on his back and you use his chest as a pillow. It's a cozy place. His chest. He has some fluff there, just like Angel Dust, but unlike the former he hides it under layers of clothing and keeps it unstyled. Still, it's undoubtedly soft and fuzzy and you like to sink your hand in it or swirl the soft hairs around your fingertips. The radio demon isn't complaining as one might expect, it's soothing to have someone touch his body in a non-hostile manner. It's refreshing to have someone appreciate his body as it is.

Would you also appreciate it if you saw him as he once was?

His father hadn't. He could handle the child of a mixed marriage, but Alastor wasn't just mixed, but also looked the part and according to the racist beliefs of his father in the 1900's that was a bad thing.

As you're nuzzling against his long and elegant neck, your friend's mind wanders. You lived during the 90's. What would it have been like if he had also lived during that period? Everything would have been different. The town he grew up in, his relationship with his parents, his career as a radio host and a serial killer.

"Did you know that my hair is naturally curly?"

Your ears perk up at that and Alastor gently takes hold of them and pulls at them from the root, just slightly.

"That feels nice..."

"Oh I know."

"What were you saying?"

"Oh yes, my hair's curly! Since I was nothing but a tiny, adorable baby boy! ...my mother... she..." His hand lets go of your ears and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he takes a deep breath and lets it out in a long sigh.

There's a melancholy about him now and you feel the need to comfort him. He's opening up to you by being genuine and vulnerable. Alastor is sharing a part of who he used to be and the least you can do is listen. You resume your activities on his fluff, almost massaging the area. He seems to like it, for a moment closing his eyes and letting a sound like purring.

"Can you keep this up?"

"Sure Al."

"Merci. What was I saying...? Oh yes of course! Mama and my curly mop."

The radio effect of his voice and his arms around you make you feel like you're a kid being told a bedtime story. It's a good thing the other residents have gotten used to you and Alastor disappearing together for long periods of time. His soft chest fluff under the pads of your fingers only intensifies the feeling of being told a story while tucked in bed, warm and safe from the outside world.

"It's truly amazing how much power is given to hair in certain cultures. In my culture, dear y/n, hair texture served as an indicator of social status. My family -a wedding between a white man and a creole woman of colour... oh ho dear! It was something else back then...-

As a kid, I was always the one teased for having “weird hair”, as if it didn’t match my other facial features. When school began, my sweet mama, she... she would put my hair in locs to protect the curls. Apparently they didn't like that at school! So my father... he radio static intensifies he made my mother shave it. He claimed that if my mother and I wore our hair differently then no one would take us seriously."

You take a moment to digest this new piece information. It's true that locs enclose the natural hair and help it stay intact. It's also true that Alastor grew up in a time when it was very difficult to be of a cultural background which was different to the majority's. You choose to not comment on anything, that's not your job.

You swirl some more of his fluff around your fingertips before moving your hand to his hair.

"Well, it's not curly in the afterlife."

You feel the vibration of his chuckle through your check that is resting on his chest.

"But it is!"

Alastor lets out a satisfied sound as he presses you even tighter against him and begins rumbling about his hair care routine. He uses anti frizz oils, heat protection oils and then blow dries it. Truth is, that's just the steps you managed to actually register in your brain, because a sleepiness started overtaking you as you stayed laying in his embrace.

You're now fading between consciousness and unconsciousness. It almost feels like you're floating. Is this what Heaven is like?

Maybe it is. Maybe it is not. But you did manage to find your little oasis in Hell. And so did he.

Alastor looks down at your much smaller frame curled up against him. Your breath has slowed down and your eyes are closing. Why does it feel so warm and soft to have you close to him like this? He knows he shouldn't be letting his guard down, but he can't help it when it comes to you. The radio demon is enamoured with you.

Wanting to make the experience even cozier and dreamier for his favourite sinner, Alastor starts singing quietly. His sense of rhythm is immaculate and his jazzy tunes make you fall sound asleep in no time whatsoever.

When you wake up an hour or so later, he still hasn't moved, but he acknowledges that you're awake with a small hum.

"Oh wakey wakey my darling y/n!" had been his usual response to you waking up while he was in the rut. However, right now he appears to be much more unguarded and raw than his usual persona. You haven't even completely woken up and you're already wondering about this new side of him.

"Al? Is everything okay?"

"Oh why yes it is, but there's this thought occupying my brilliant mind..."

"Care to share it with my not so brilliant one?"

You expected him to laugh or even chuckle but Alastor goes straight to the point. "All this... making love and we still haven't kissed. Not really."

Kissing him would mean that you actually view him romantically and that whatever "friends with benefits" situation you had going on will get destroyed. That's not a bad thing though. Despite your initial fears of your fellow deer demon being too emotionally unavailable and only needing you to calm down the torment of his lust, a kiss wouldn't hurt. Kisses are good.

"We can change that y'know."

You make the first step by leaning towards him, basically giving him the green light that you're consenting to this. Alastor notices it and loses no time, pressing his lips against yours while wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close into another embrace. He smiles widely as you kiss, his head tilting slightly as he runs his fingers through your hair. After a few seconds pass, he pulls his head back, slowly breaking the kiss as he looks into your eyes with a broad smile on his face.

"Aren't you delightful?!" and he dives back in.

Alastor's second kiss with you is firm and passionate, but not overly aggressive. His lips are very warm and he seems to enjoy the intimacy of taking his time to explore your mouth. As the kiss progresses, he gradually increases the pressure of his lips on yours. His arms wrap around your waist and his tongue slowly wanders further into the welcoming heat of your mouth.

Once again -just like when it came to sex- you have come to the conclusion that Alastor isn't that experienced, but some raw power, an instinct if you will, provides him with the ability to do all the right moves at the right time.

And then you just break character. You burst into laughter. His large and pointed ears twitch at that change of pace.

"When I thought I was doing a good job-"

"Oh no, that's not it at all. I'm just happy." You're giddy and so he is.

Maybe not needing you but actually wanting you isn't the worst case scenario.

To be continued.

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[mrsjellymunson]

KNOCK AT THE CABIN | Part One

READ THE PROLOGUE

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Written for @bettyfrommars , @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing ’s excellent Stranger Prompts event.

Series Summary: After the events of the previous months, everyone is shocked by the unexpected return of an old friend. But is it really him?

Chapter summary: It’s all hands on deck to try and help your unexpected visitor. You come up with an effective, if unexpectedly intimate, solution.

WC: ~4.41k

C/W: 🔞 18+, MDNI, NSFW, series CW for eventual Eddie Munson x fem!reader smut. Post-S4, Upside Down exists, dark/supernatural themes, descriptions of minor injuries, allusions to hypothermia.

A/N: This series contains a lot of themes and scenarios that I haven’t written for before, so I’d love to know what you think! Please comment and reblog, it means the world to writers, and reblogs mean work gets seen. This series has a taglist so if you’d like to be on either it, or my general list, just comment, ask or message, I’d love to have you on board 🙏💗 Also, I proofed this as much as I could but my brain isn’t braining very well at the moment so if you spot any errors please let me know 💙

My masterlist

PART ONE

There, hunched, shivering, soaked and covered in mud, is your friend. The one who’d died saving the town. The one they’d buried only a few days ago, after he’d been lying on a slab in a lab somewhere for weeks.

Eddie.

The increasingly noisy wind blows leaves and the now-driving rain horizontally across the stoop. Inside the hallway, there’s silence.

You all stand at the door, mouths agape. Initially, none of you move.

You take in your visitor’s appearance. His hair is lank, wet with mud and rain and full of twigs and leaves. He stands, shoulders sagging, in filthy, soaked clothes, the wet material seeming to drag his frame down even further.

You glance down and notice he’s barefoot, his feet the same mid-brown mud colour as most of his clothing, other than where thin rivulets of scarlet run down his skin.

His cheeks are gaunt, his lips grey, not the plush, rosy pink that they always were. He looks thinner than you remember, and his skin was always pale, but it seems even lighter now, almost translucent.

His face is downcast, and he doesn’t make eye contact with any of you.

Dustin shoulders his way between you and Steve and takes his first good look at the strange visitor. At first he’s confused, incredulous, but this rapidly gives way to pure astonishment, as he yells over the sound of the rain, “Eddie? EDDIE!”

He starts to rush forwards, but Steve puts an arm out to stop him, protecting Eddie’s obviously frail and vulnerable state.

There’s murmuring and chattering and quiet squeals as everyone processes the sight before them.

None of you consider what events or twists of fate have brought him here, all of you only caring in this moment that he’s here. He's here! He’s here!

Eddie finally lifts his eyes to you all. They’re sunken, red-rimmed, and have lost their usual sparkle. They don’t seem to focus on anything in particular, and before any of you can work to bring him inside, he mumbles something that sounds a little like your name, sways a little and collapses, his knees connecting with the wood of the front stoop with a hollow thump.

Steve reacts first, stopping Eddie from falling sideways as he rushes forward, yelling, “Get him inside. Now!”

You hurry outside to help Steve whilst Robin opens the door fully and shoos the teens out of the way. Steve instructs you to grab under Eddie’s arm, and you both drag him inside.

You don’t have Steve’s lifeguarding or athletic skills and you’re not used to manhandling people, and you stumble over the threshold and flop backwards into the hallway. You end up sitting on your ass with Eddie half over your lap.

There’s a cacophony of confusion and the kids want to help, but they end up crowding you both. They want to touch Eddie, see if it’s really him, see what’s wrong.

The only ones who hang back are Will and Jane, you assume because although they’ve heard so much about him they don’t really know him. No one notices their somewhat tense demeanour, or the way they subtly keep glancing at one another.

Robin closes the door to keep out the weather, and out of the corner of your eye you see her covering her mouth with both hands.

You run a hand over Eddie’s form, checking for any obvious injuries. You spot his arms and hands are in a similar state to his feet, utterly filthy, with cracked and split nails and torn, bloody skin.

He’s bedraggled and shivering, has curled in on himself and is practically convulsing.

You speak above the clamour.

“Steve, he’s freezing! What do we do??”

Steve panics a little, pacing the hallway with one hand on his hip and raking the other through his hair. He makes a few incomprehensible noises before he remembers something, stopping suddenly and turning to face you. Clicking his fingers and pointing, he reminds you,

“Wait, didn’t you go on some outdoor survival course once, or something? At a summer camp? You told me about it when you got back. Something about how to help people who’ve fallen out of canoes into icy rivers? I remember because you were really sarcastic about it and said, ‘It was sooooo useful. I mean, I go kayaking all the time, right?’”

“Shit, you’re right. Fuck, fuck!”

Slowly, some of the information comes back to you.

“Okay, we have to warm him up, but it has to be gradual, though. There was something about too much heat too fast maybe causing shock?”

You start to panic, screwing up your face and trying to remember all the things they taught you. ”Oh fuck, think, think!”

Robin puts an arm around your shoulders as Steve says your name, softly, reassuring you that you’re doing great and that anything you can remember will be better than the absolutely nothing that any of the rest of them know. Give him a swimmer in difficulty or someone choking on a gumball at the video store and he’s in his element, but any of this outdoorsy stuff is way out of his comfort zone.

Suddenly and from nowhere your brain kicks into high gear. You remember some of the training, and start barking orders.

“Will, get blankets, lots of blankets. I remember something about hot, sweet drinks…” Eyes wide and flicking between the stunned people standing around you, you ask, “Which of you makes the best hot chocolate??”

Mike and Lucas state in unison, “Dustin!”

“Okay. Dustin, Jane, you go make hot chocolate. Make a lot of it, and make it really sweet”, figuring you could all use some, and that there’s likely to be more than one person suffering from shock this evening.

Turning to her, you say, “Robin, help me take his jacket off and hang it in the kitchen by the stove. Mike, help Will with the blankets. Steve, Lucas, help me get him into the living room, in front of the fire. And anybody and everybody, go get more wood!”

Robin crouches next to you, helping you to ease Eddie’s jacket from his trembling shoulders, glancing at you as she does so. You’re guessing your concerned expression is mirroring hers, but you don’t want the kids to see so you keep it between you.

She gets up and moves to the small kitchen, placing his sodden jacket over the back of a dining chair and setting it in front of the old but functional wood-fired oven (one place in the house that’s almost always warm).

Steve and Lucas help you move Eddie into the living room, where the open fire gets stacked high with fresh wood.

Robin brings a bowl of warm water and some washcloths, and you sit eddie between you, both cleaning mud from his face and gently bathing his damaged hands and feet.

Jane sits on the floor behind you. Initially reticent and hanging back, she’s now sitting nearer to Eddie, carefully removing some of the twigs from his hair with characteristic diligence and gentleness.

You make Eddie take sips of Dustin’s (frankly, excellent) hot chocolate, and make sure all the kids have got some before asking Dustin to bring mugs for you, Steve and Robin.

Once he’s a bit cleaner and has had almost a full cup of Dustin’s healing brew, you all gather cushions and lay Eddie down on his side, facing the fire. You try to get as much heat on his front as you can, but it doesn��t seem to be helping. He’s still trembling and his skin is blue and icy to the touch, and he seems to be getting drowsy. You can’t remember much more of your basic emergency training, but it’s enough to worry you. Something about sleeping or going unconscious being a Very Bad Thing…

He’s wrapped in the blankets Will and Mike brought, but you fear the wet clothes he’s still wearing may well be hampering your efforts.

You have another idea, not sure whether it’s the done thing or if you’ll be able to convince any of the others to help you but willing to try anything at this point. You say, to no one in particular, “This isn’t working. Can we get him into the bathtub?”

Your eyes look up and scan the room, flicking mainly between Robin and Steve, and to your immense relief you see everyone nodding, trying to figure out how to make this work.

Dustin’s the first to stand, and you hear his voice crack a little as he tries to say with confidence,

“Tell us what you need us to do.”

You nod at him, once, before beginning,

“Dustin, Will, can you run a bath? Make it warm, but definitely not hot. Mike, Lucas, get towels. Hurry!”

After a few minutes, Dustin and Will return, letting you know they’ve filled the tub with warm, but not hot, water. Steve and Lucas reprise their roles as patient transport, and start to move Eddie towards the small bathroom.

As you follow them and traverse the narrow hallway you glance at the weather hammering outside the window of the back door. Something seems off, and it’s only after a few moments of consideration that you realise the leaves and rain are travelling in the opposite direction to those at the front door. This doesn’t make sense - surely the storm should be pushing them all the same way? It’s almost like you’re currently somehow in the centre of a swirling storm…

You don’t have time to dwell on this as Steve calls to you, asking what they should do now. You hurry to the bathroom and see that Steve has balanced Eddie’s butt on the side of the tub.

You reply,

“We need to get him out of these wet things.”

Grunting as he shifts position, Steve nods once and barks to Lucas, “Hold him up.”

Lucas does his best to stabilise your almost-unconscious friend. Kneeling in front of him, Steve fusses with Eddie’s waistband, grunting, “Sorry, buddy, it’s for the best”, as he unceremoniously yanks off Eddie’s jeans. New-looking, unripped, black 501 jeans.

Relieved to see he’s wearing boxers, they both balance Eddie as they work to remove his shirt. His Hellfire shirt. He only had two. Okay, this is officially getting weird…

As Steve and Lucas work you start to strip off your clothes, ending up in just your underwear and bra. You don’t even care that they’re in the room, reasoning that not only have they all seen you in your bathing suit before, but also that this was definitely not the time for bashfulness or self-consciousness.

Steve asks you what you’re doing, and you explain that you’re getting in the bath with Eddie, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Steve, he’s practically unconscious. You want him to slip under the surface and drown? Come on, let’s get him in here.”

Without waiting for any replies, you step into the water, relieved that the younger boys heeded your instructions and it is indeed warm, but not too hot. You wave your hands in vertical circles, as if it would bring Eddie closer faster.

The old bath is short, but wide, and you’re pretty sure you’ll both fit.

As the boys manhandle him you’re momentarily stunned as you see the outlines of Eddie’s ribs and shoulder blades brought into stark relief by the harsh lights of the room. But you’re jolted back to reality as you hear Steve grunting a little as he starts to manoeuvre Eddie’s legs into the water.

You help Steve and Lucas to get Eddie in, slowly lowering him in case even this is too much of a shock. You slide down behind him and sit with him between your legs, supporting him with his back against your chest. You rub his arms gently, and murmur, “Oh fuck, oh fuck. Please warm up, Eddie. Please.”

Gesturing to your now-muddy garb and Eddie’s discarded garments, you ask, to nobody in particular, “Can someone get these clothes in the washer?”

Lucas bundles them up in his arms and heads towards the door, calling for Robin’s assistance. Steve thanks him as he leaves and closes the door, staying in with you and Eddie.

The water comes up around your mid torso. You use your hand to slosh the warm water around Eddie’s upper chest, but eventually decide that’s not enough.

You use a small jug that you and Robin use for hair washing to run warm water over Eddie’s skin, gently trying to warm him, but also carefully working to remove what mud and detritus that you can. He still feels cold to the touch, but after quite a few nerve wracking minutes he appears to be shivering less.

You and Steve share concerned glances, and Steve comforts you as you comfort Eddie, crouching down and reaching over the side of the tub to stroke your shoulder, reassuring you, telling you that you’re doing good, that this is helping.

Eddie sighs a little as you run water through his hair and down his torso, picking out the leaves left from Jane’s efforts and throwing them onto the floor.

Though it’s still cool, and preternaturally pale, Eddie’s skin seems to have warmed a little.

Hearing chattering and commotions outside, Steve stands, and you can tell he wants to check on what chaos might be transpiring in the rest of the house.

“I’m gonna go check on the others. Will you be okay here for a few minutes?”

“Of course. I’ll call if I need anything.”

“Okay, good. Just make sure you do. I’ll be back soon.”

Steve gives you a small smile as he exits, leaving you two alone in the tub.

After the door closes you allow yourself a moment of pure self-indulgence and close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of Eddie’s body pressed against your own. His back nestles against your chest, his spine between your breasts. His pelvis is slotted between your thighs, and you can feel the jut of his hips and his coolness on the delicate skin there. There’s a subtle pressure on your centre, but you try your best to ignore it.

You tilt your head forward a little, just enough to rest your nose amongst Eddie’s wet tresses, and run your hands gently down the outside of his arms. Not necessarily to clean or warm them this time, but just to feel them. To feel him.

The circumstances are so far from ideal, but part of you can’t help but revel in this proximity, this intimacy. You always wanted to be like this with Eddie, to have this closeness, but you didn’t think he’d ever want the same with you. You indulge yourself further and start to daydream, imagining it’s just you and him, that it’s a lazy weekend, and you’re enjoying a bath together just for the fun of it. Maybe you’re in your own shared apartment, the sun is bright outside and the scent of summer flowers is drifting in through your open window. No worries, no dramas, just you and Eddie, and the only thing on your minds is the promise of a romantic evening together.

A noise outside the room, possibly something clattering in the kitchen, breaks your trance. Taking a deep breath and looking up again, you shake yourself out of your reverie. Wanting to take full advantage of the warm water whilst you still can, you take a chance and lean back against the sloped end of the bathtub, taking Eddie with you, submerging you both a little more. You continue to use one hand to scoop warm water over Eddie’s shoulders and collarbones, occasionally running your fingers over his chest and throat.

You use your other hand to run your fingers through his wet hair, and as you stroke him he turns his head to one side and nuzzles ever so slightly under your chin. His breathing is regulating, and he’s even humming a little. The physical pressure of his body resting between your legs is increased, but you manage to keep your focus on the matter at hand.

After a few more minutes Eddie’s hands seem to warm and regain a little function. He stills the movements of your hand on his chest and clumsily interlaces his fingers with yours, gripping as tightly as he’s able as a couple of fat tears run down his cheeks. He’s still not able to talk, but just by his actions he’s telling you so much.

You hum into the top of his head,

“It’s okay, Eddie. I’m here. You’re with us now. You’re safe.”

You feel him relax a tiny bit more.

You sit in stillness for a few more long minutes, and, using the opportunity to observe him further, you notice more changes.

He was always wiry, but his muscles had a soft bulk beneath his ivory skin. Now, they’re solid and taut, and you can almost see striations running their length. The skin stretched over them is thinner, and the healthy layer of subcutaneous fat is completely gone.

As well as his altered skin tone and skinnier, but somehow also more muscled, physique, you notice the angry silver and red marks in his skin. Sharp, starburst patterns that look like chunks of his flesh have been ripped out of him.

Of course, they were.

You shudder at the memory of the altercation with the demobats, watching Eddie bleed out, dragging him through the gate but none of you able to do anything to save him.

You so want to know what happened to him after you were all whisked away in ambulances and trucks and black SUVs. You’re sure you saw him bundled into a black body bag, lifted into one of the Hawkins National Laboratory vans, but where he went after that you had no idea.

Wanting to be closer to him, and inveterately curious, carefully, so carefully, you run a fingertip over one of the scars on his neck.

He tenses, and flinches slightly.

Okay, we’re not doing that just yet.

You both sit in the stillness for another little while, and the bath water begins to cool. Before you could call him for help, Steve comes back in to check on you both.

When he’s satisfied that neither of you have drowned, you check in and ask how everyone else is doing. Usually, when they stay over, the kids sleep on the floor in the living room in their sleeping bags. Steve lets you know that for tonight, Robin’s decided to sleep on the sofa in there with them. She says it’s for company, or reassurance, or whatever, definitely not because she’s at all freaked out and not wanting to sleep alone. He tells you the kids have enthusiastically agreed, that Robin’s calming them, placating their rampant questions and desires to see Eddie, and is managing to get them to at least lie down, even if they don’t sleep. You and Steve are supremely grateful.

As confident as you both can be that the immediate emergency is tackled, and with the bath water continuing to cool around you, you’re aware that you and Steve need to think about practicalities, and discuss quite what you’re going to do next.

Steve’s the first to broach the subject, drumming his fingers lightly on the side of the bath as he checks Eddie over once more and says,

“So, uh, what’re we gonna do with him now?”

Remembering more of your rudimentary training, you decide to make another unusual request.

“Well, uh… This is probably gonna sound kinda weird, but…”

“What? What is it?”

“Well, I remember something from the training that said body heat is the best thing for warming someone up. Like, consistent, reliable body heat.”

You pause to assess Steve’s response. His brow is slightly furrowed and he’s looking a little pensive, but he nods for you to continue.

“And there was something about how skin to skin contact is even better. So, I mean I totally get it if you don’t wanna do this, but I thought I’d we could maybe get him into a bed and then sleep either side of him. Like maybe even spoon him or something… I dunno, I guess this sounds pretty crazy…”

You shake your head and look down into the tub, noticing that your fingers are still laced with Eddie’s, and he’s gripping your hand like he doesn’t want to let go.

“No, uh…” Steve clears his throat. “Y’know, I can totally see how that would work. Uh, okay, uh yeah, I guess we could do that.”

He gives you a half smile, his other hand running down his cheek, as he processes what he’s just agreed to.

The one-storey cabin has three bedrooms. A single, one with a double bed and one with a king. Steve, the tallest out of the three of you and, apparently, the most likely to starfish, got the king, whilst Robin opted for the coziness of the single (the one with the good view), leaving you with the double. The only sources of heating in the cabin, other than the open fire and the stove, are two clunky old electric heaters, which you try not to use too often, and if you're honest are a little scared of. Steve runs hot so he insisted you and Robin had one each in your rooms.

After a few more moments of deliberation Steve seems to have made a plan in his head. Nodding to himself, he stands, and says,

“Well, my bed’s the biggest, so I guess we’ll go in there. I’ll get the boys to move the electric heater from your room for extra warmth. And don’t even think about telling me no. I’m fine to overheat for one night if it helps Eddie, okay?”

He gives you a kind smile as he goes to leave the room, and you give him a relieved one in return. That was actually far less awkward than you thought it was going to be, and you’re thankful that you and Steve now have a plan.

You dislodge the plug with your foot and start to drain the bath, sluicing as much of the mud and detritus down the plug hole as you can, and Steve returns to help Eddie to stand and get out. You both dry him off, wet boxers notwithstanding, and do what you can to blot some of the dampness from his hair. While Steve holds Eddie up, you give a cursory wipe to your shoulders and feet and wrap a large towel around your middle, figuring the most pressing matter now is getting Eddie into bed.

Eddie shuffles from the bathroom to Steve’s room, supported between the two of you. He’s still not speaking, and can only manage a few moans and whimpers as you manoeuvre him. You see the kids peering intently at you all from the living room, and they seem comforted by the fact that Eddie’s at least upright and making noises.

You sit him on the edge of Steve’s bed, and as Steve bustles around the room getting the heater set up you examine Eddie’s injuries again. The scrapes and cuts on his hands and feet look raw and painful, but not deep, and they’ve stopped bleeding. And you’re relieved to see that he doesn’t seem to have any other injuries. Not fresh ones, at least…

You ask Steve if he can loan Eddie some dry clothes for the morning, and he chooses a few things from the drawers across the room.

You help Eddie to lie down in the middle of the mattress, whilst Steve lifts his legs onto the bed and pulls a sheet over him. Brandishing the clean boxers he’s retrieved, Steve says, in his best Team Captain voice, “Okay, we need to change these. Sorry again, buddy, but it’s for the best.”

Steve manages to change Eddie’s underwear under the covers, explaining it’s for his modesty, as Eddie grumbles but doesn’t resist.

Steve turns around whilst you dry off and change into the fresh underwear Robin delivered for you, and you slide under the covers and sit at the headboard as Steve does the same on the other side.

Eddie’s breathing is more regular, and he’s no longer shivering, so you feel safer now letting him drift into sleep. You move some strands of drying hair from his cheeks, and gently stroke the side of his face. Steve gives you a moment before pulling the comforter up and placing extra blankets on top of you all.

In the quiet, you notice that the wind and rain have died down, leaving only the hum of the heater and the delicate, rhythmic patter of drizzle on the window as the soundtrack to your evening. It’s oddly comforting.

You move down under the covers, and as the two of you organise the blankets and start to settle around Eddie, you say in a low voice,

“Thanks, Steve. You’re a true friend.”

He responds, kindly,

“Hey, I’m not the one who just got into a muddy bath with him and pulled half a tree out of that jungle he calls his hair. I think that title most definitely belongs to you.”

You snort quietly at Steve’s observation as you snuggle into the bed. You both encourage Eddie to turn so his front is against your back, feeling his cool skin down the length of you, as Steve slots himself around his back, pulling up the covers and turning off the bedside lamp as he goes.

In the darkness you reach behind you and pull one of Eddie’s arms across your torso. You clutch his hand to your chest, wrapping both of yours around it, telling yourself it’s to warm him up, but knowing deep down it’s because you desperately want to feel him around you, and imagine he’s holding you.

You feel his breathing regulate, puffing rhythmic exhales against your neck. As exhausted as you are, a million questions still run through your mind. So many unknowns, whats, whys and hows.

What happened? Where’s he been? Why is he dressed in the clothes you guys picked out to bury him in? Does Owens know about this? What the fuck is going on?

All you know for sure is two things:

One, you’d do anything to keep Eddie safe.

And two, tomorrow is going to be a very, very interesting day…

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this part.

Comments and reblogs keep writers writing, I’d love to hear from you.

My masterlist

I now have taglists for ‘everything’ and for each of my ongoing series, let me know if you’d like to be included!

Taglist (open): @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @ali-r3n @eddiemunsonshandcuffs @jasminelafleur @corrodedcoffincumslut @kthomps914 @iletmytittiestitty-russ @findmeincorneliastreet @tlclick73 @sapphire4082 @razzeith @cupid-club @storiesbyrhi @eris-rose-86 @micheledawn1975 @bl0ssomanddie @veemoon @sunshinepeachx @writinginthetwilight @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256

Extra tags: I’ve rather presumptuously tagged everyone who enjoyed or reblogged previous parts, just let me know if you’d rather I didn’t! @nicolothy @mmunsonsstuff @songforeddiemunson @kookygranger @lovingonthemoon @elegantkoalapaper @fanfics-i-find-here @the-unforgivenn

#knock at the cabin #eddie munson #strangerprompts #eddie munson x reader #supernatural Eddie Munson fic #dark fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #S4 fix it #dark fanfic #Eddie lives #steve harrington #dustin henderson #robin buckley #lucas sinclair #jane hopper #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things #KATC #post S4 #post s4 fic #Mike wheeler #the party #stranger things S4 #stranger things S4 fanfic #hypothermia

[yanderestarangel]

Will there possibly be any more Tio Miguel O’Hara au???

𝐌𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 ┆ 𝐓𝐈𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 - 𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘

꒰∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ ── Hi guys, I remembered I have a blog, hehe:3

˖ ࣪⊹ ִ┈┈┈┈ ♰ ┈┈┈┈ ⊹ ִֶָ𓂅

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ "Before you, silence and emptiness for me were like an open, painful wound that stained my clothes a calloused, uncomfortable red. But with you, silence became just a space to be filled with your laughter and ethereal presence. My thoughts turn to you, my sweet nephew, loose and deliberate... I really shouldn't feel this way, but you don't know how much it affects me just by you being you." - 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘: 𝓽𝓲𝓸 𝓶𝓲𝓰𝓾𝓮𝓵.

˖ ࣪⊹ ִ┈┈┈┈ ♰ ┈┈┈┈ ⊹ ִֶָ𓂅

➜ This AU will probably become a fic with non-linear chapters, that is, I will post in non-chronological order of the canonical events that happened. [ There will be several alt. routes and you can suggest more ideas about this AU. ]

˖ ࣪⊹ ִ┈┈┈┈ ♰ ┈┈┈┈ ⊹ ִֶָ𓂅

★☆ Notes: This is a work of dark romance/content, please do not read if you are a sensitive person, I am not romanticizing abuse or abusive relationships, this is just fiction.

♡ ┆ TW: written in the form of a poem, corruption, step!incest, dark romance, ftm reader, abusive relationship, mourning, dumbfication, manipulation, age gap, eat out, creampie, sex without a condom, dub con, afab anatomy

You weren't so naive as to not notice your Tio's lascivious gaze on your body ─ especially when you wore short, white dresses on hot days, your skin shone with a thin layer of sweat while your curves were otherwise hidden by thicker fabrics and dense spaces were exposed to the world and the cowboy's dark eyes.

The same lips that kissed you so innocently one day, held the hot tongue that would bring your ruin filled with lust. He had a negligent look, a harsh air, he was the same man who had made you taste the fruit of forbidden desire ─ far from everything and everyone, you two did not share the innocent courtship of being just a nephew and uncle... But before for you to stop like a whore, with your legs open for someone you swore would never feel anything... It hadn't started like that.

Desire, like all things in the world, had to have an origin, guidance and explanation ── everything could have started with the cruel grief of losing the wife that Miguel loved so much, the woman's name was not even uttered by his mouth, the same painful memory of lost nights of empty promises cut by the tragic and sharp scythe of death and destiny. The tanned-skinned man spent nights questioning the direction of his life and the classic question: "why me?".

Without an answer however, he sank even deeper into his own mind, the emptiness of his home now without a wife and the future children that were idealized by both of them had not come to fruition.

A foolish, lost and purposeless man was what he was.

So, just as the devil tries to make sin, he had finally found something that filled the void that was once held in his hard and dirty soul ── you. He tried to repress these feelings, it wasn't love, it wasn't a pure and polished love, it was a corrupted feeling of possession and obsession ─ he wanted to control your life, control you and make you his forever, trap you somewhere where you would stay safe from the dangers of the dirty world where they lived; but he himself was this dirt.

Then, slowly he began to enter your life even more like a parasite implanting the dirty thoughts you would later have about him. Taking you away from your family and manipulating everything and everyone into believing that he was the best person to take care of you ─ after all, he was just a concerned Tio... Or not?

Like a waltz with the devil, it all began that hot summer night with a dance ─ without protests and murmurs of complaints you followed him to an isolated place where your family's celebration was taking place that night, the warm orange light coming from the old tile ceiling warmed your cheeks and made you blush even more under the brunette's deep gaze.

Miguel watched as you moved to the music, his gaze mesmerized by the fluidity of your movements. A soft smile graced his lips as he took in the sight before him- the youthful vigor and elegance you possessed. He couldn’t help but be drawn to you, even if it sometimes stirred up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within him.

He wasn't just your tio, was he? No more, if he ever was to begin. His large hand caressed his waist, gently but firmly gripping the fabric of your blouse soft under his touch. His thumb brushed against his back, effortlessly guiding you through the dance.

"My precious angel", he murmured, his voice practically low. "You look like a dream, like a celestial being that has somehow landed among us mortals. It makes me want to take that dream and hold on to it forever."

He brought you closer, as if he was going to devour you ─ He moved like a predator, he looked at you like a predator... He was a predator.

Tio Miguel's lips traced a burning path along the sensitive skin of your neck, each kiss leaving a trail of heat as his hands slid down and squeezed your ass possessively. His breath was hot against your skin, a mix of whiskey and desire that sent shivers down your spine. His moans were hoarse, filled with a primal hunger.

He pulled back slightly, dark eyes ablaze with lust, his gaze falling to your chest, where your breasts strained against the fabric of your blouse. The hunger in his eyes was almost palpable, tacit and obscure, there was no point in running and maybe you didn't even want to escape, it was like a tempting trap that would hurt you deliciously.

"Mi prince," he rasped, his voice rough with need. "You're so beautiful. So fuckin' beautiful."

He let out a low chuckle, the sound dark and predatory, as he grabbed your waist with one hand and pressed you against him. His hardness nudging between your legs, making you aware of his desire for you.

"Let's go somewhere more private, mi vida. It's time to show you just how much I want you." His lips crushed against yours, the intensity of your kiss staggering. His tongue thrust into your mouth, tangling with yours, the taste of whiskey and raw desire overwhelming. His hands moved with purpose, tugging at your clothes, urgently trying to rid you of any barriers between you both. He nibbled gently at your lips, pulling back to whisper against your mouth.

"Don't fight me, mi chico guapo. We both know you want this." With a low growl, he pulled you close once more, your lips crushing against his as your hands moved with purpose. His fingers expertly explored your soft body, teasing and coaxing you to the edge of pleasure. As his thumb brushed your clit, he swallowed your moans, his own desire heightened by the sacred taboo of his actions.

"Tell me if you want me to stop, my life. But I can't promise I will." Miguel said, but you both had the idea that that wasn't what was going to happen, especially when his tongue licked your pink flesh so well and made your legs tremble around his head ── his calloused and warm hands separated the flesh again softness of your thighs, making your breasts bounce and you tremble and whimper slyly for more.

Sin was good, so you two were condemned to a hell of unlimited pleasure and lust, without judgmental looks from others. Just you and your dear Tio Miguel. You moaned dirty, incoherent sentences, just looking for more friction with the other man's mouth, you were both moaning with need ─ you were both a mess of repressed desire and unthought-out consequences.

Your tio's hot tongue left your entrance, but before any scream of protest you saw him take off his pants quickly and lower them to his knees, exposing his muscular thighs and his thick cock with veins pulsing strongly, the smell of musk filled your nose as you felt the heat radiate from the older man’s member.

Uncle Miguel's cock pulsed as it passed your entrance, the swollen head teasing your clit before entering your comfortable, warm pussy. Every inch of their sensitive flesh reveled in the forbidden embrace, eagerly awaiting the moment they would finally become one. He growled softly, muscles tensing as he thrust inside, filling you with his thick erection.

Miguel's grip enveloped you like a vice, the sensation overwhelming you both-- his eyes locked with yours, the intensity of the connection incendiary, as he slowly advanced. His size made him feel huge, stretching you despite the ample lubrication. His moan of pleasure joined his groan of pain, a symphony of raw desire and urgency. His hands shook slightly as he thrust into you, the animalistic sounds of your union echoing in the small space.

Each thrust was deliberate, calculated to maximize his pleasure and his own desire. "Mi rei, are you okay?" he panted, the muscles in his abdomen flexing as he continued to move. "Tell me if you need me to stop..."

Despite the agony of his position and his size, your nod was slow and deliberate. Your eyes never left his, each thrust bringing with it pleasure and submission. You could count how many thrusts there were by the weight of his balls that hit your soft ass, leaving a red, painful mark on your sensitive flesh.

"Good boy... Taking everything in that cute pussy..." He growled as the veins in his neck bulged with each effort of his hips to not stick it all in and feel the tip of his dick tirelessly kiss your uterus ── but he didn't I could scare you now, despite wanting to take out all the frustration and excitement accumulated in your cunt. Your breasts bounced as you cried with fat tears coming down from your orbs, pleasure, guilt and undefined feelings in your mind made you bite your lip and just enjoy the moment.

"Fuck, mi angelito," he groaned, his eyes locked on yours. "F-Fuck, I can't control myself... Mierda-"

His movements became erratic, his need overpowering him as he drove into you, chasing the peak of his release. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body slick with sweat as he thrust deeper, harder, his desire fueling the intensity of your coupling.

"Just like this, mi carinõ," he cried out, his voice hoarse with lust. "Just like this, with you..." His words are the catalyst for your own release, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, wracking your body with pleasurable contractions that milk him of his release.

Miguel follows suit, his cock twitching inside you as he fills you with his warm, pearly essence, marking you as his once again. He collapses on top of you, his breathing ragged and his heart pounding, both spent from the intensity.

"I don't deserve you, boy, but I need you."

#yanderestarangel #afab reader #tw smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara x male reader #tio miguel o'hara #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x ftm reader #ftm reader #ftm!reader #ftm smut #ftm ns/fw #trans nsft #miguel o'hara x male reader smut #miguel ohara smut #yandere miguel ohara #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara headcanon #astv smut #astv miguel #miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x ftm reader #male reader x male character

[rvb-canon-grimmons]

RVB RESTORATION THOUGHTS!!!!

LONG POST IM SO SORRY I HAD A LOT OF FEELINGS

(Im so sorry this got so long, but i got emotional while writing it so please bear with me, read this like its the morning paper while u eat breakfast or something i have alot to say)

Before I go into the things I didn't like I do want to focus on some positives.

-Like I said in an earlier post, Geoff's acting…he absolutely killed it, and maybe this is because I'm a little bit Geoff/Grif biased but he was giving so much emotion and everyone else felt a little bit flat. Also only he could have delivered the "Come with me" line with so much Homoeroticism -I Had a pretty fun time watching the fight in the second half, The references to Monty we're sweet and getting to see Tex and Carolina fight together was pretty epic! -A good handful of jokes got me good. "23rd in my class" Shelia translating Caboose's Spanish to Lopez

Ok……. the next bit of this will get a little bit negative, but I do want to say this is coming from a place of deep love and care for this series. I have run this blog for like 6/7 years now and I've been a fan of this show for double that. My biggest fear is that fans get the same treatment we did when no one liked RVBZero. I have criticisms. This is a 21 year old series that so many people have had a part in and so many have loved. I was not looking for perfection, I wasn't even looking for something good. I was looking for an ending to the stories of characters people have held in their hearts for 21 years. Unfortunately, what I feel we were left with was a hastily thrown together hour of basically nothing.

-Why weren't they friends…..Why weren't they friends…No one cared for the others. I understand that we have semi warped perceptions of the characters from fanon works and things of that nature. But even in canon, the reds and blue care about each other. On their own team and the other team. Simmons, Grif, Tucker, and Caboose spent MONTHS together in chorus and same for Donut/Sarge/Wash. I've recently rewatched blood gulch and Caboose and Sarge have a great dynamic! Tucker and Grif canonically get along pretty well. Simmons was ON BLUE TEAM for like a hot minute there. THEY KNOW EACH OTHER AND CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER. This was zero percent present in this film. No one had any motivation to look for Tucker. No one cared that it was Tuckers body inside the suit. THE REDS LEFT CABOOSE FOR DEAD!!!!!! THEY JUST LEFT HIM!!!!

-Tucker, I'm so sorry baby girl, this was supposed to be your arc, your moment. You were hardly in it. No build up to how he became the Meta. The scene where he breaks out of it to not kill caboose was the best part of the arc. And he just wakes up and remembers it "like someone elses Nightmare??" ok sure

-Wash………………WHAT THE FUCK???? WHAT THE FUCK???????????????? WHAT THE FUCK??????? WHAT THE FUCK???? TO RUIN THIS MANS ENTIRE CHARACTER ARC BY MAKING HIM COMPLETELY OBSOLETE. PUTTING HIM IN SOME RANDOM HOSPITAL FOR AN UNKNOWN INJURY THAT HAPPENS OFF SCREEN AND ISN'T EXPLAINED. HAVE HIM HALUCINATING DOC FOR SOME FUCKING REASON. HAVE HIM SHOW UP TO THE FINAL BATTLE AND DO ABSOLUTLEY NOTHING BUT JUMP OFF A FUCKING CLIFF AND NOT SAY A WORD TO ANY OF THE RED AND BLUES I AM LIERALLY ABOUT TO FUCKING CRY TYPING THIS I AM LITERALLY SO FUCKING PISSED OFF. AGENT WASHINGTON, THE CHARACTER THAT WAS SO HAPPY IN THE SEASON RIGHT BEFORE CHORUS JUST TO BE ON BLUE TEAM AND HAVE A FUCKING FAMILY AGAIN. JUST SIDELINE HIM FOR NO FUCKING REASON AND THEN NOT LET HIM SPEAK TO ANY OF HIS FRIENDS EXCEPT CAROLINA AND DEAD DOC. AND DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE FACT THAT TUCKER BEING THE META WAS LITERALLY A PLOT POINT CATERED TO HAVE WASH BE INVOLVED. THIS IS LIKE AGENT WASHINGTON ANGST BAIT 101. YES IM A TUCKINGTON SHIPPER BUT PUT ALL SHIPPING ASIDE, THEY WERE STILL FRIENDS, THEY WERE FRIENDS THEY WERE FRIENDS.

Grimmons. I am disappointed. But really not surprised. Honestly for everything I disliked I thought Grimmons was handled ok… at this point im like….. they couldn't even throw us a bone. company was dying, final season airing, and they couldn't even throw us a solid Grimmons queerbait joke. Its whatever….I don't wanna get too upset about shipping because at the end of the day, ships becoming canon isn't what shipping is all about (says Tumblr user "RVB-Canon-Grimmons) you get what im saying.

-Donut…..where was he…..Fucking Homophobic honestly

-DOC IS DEAD?????????????????????????????? FUCKING WHY???

-Sarge's death was fine, I'm not upset by it I just didn't feel like it was emotionally satisfying. Especially after the shock of them leaving Caboose and the much better scene of tucker fighting the meta's control over him to not hurt caboose.

-PEOPLE CALLED U SIR ALL THROUGHOUT CHORUS SIMMONS WHAT THE FUCK??????????? WHY IS SIMMONS PROMOTED AND INCHARGE OF NO ONE???? WHY DID GRIF LEAVE HIM???

Im sorry………..this is so long………just remeber this is only my opinions and if u don't agree thats totally ok!!!!! I am just a critical bitch….

#rvb #grimmons #rooster teeth #red vs blue #rvb grimmons #rvb restoration #agent washington #tuckington #rvb restoration spoilers

[littlewitchygreen]

Zero Cost Witchcraft

When I first started learning witchcraft, I remember seeing a lot of people bemoaning the fact that witchcraft cost so much, and even a few people who seemed disheartened by the fact that they’d never be able to start due to the cost. In a fictional book I was reading around that time, that incorporated modern witchcraft and paganism in it, even the main character made a comment about how much witchcraft and pagan practices cost. To this day, I continue to see similar posts and stories from people, and it always makes me twitch a little because witchcraft doesn’t have to be that and I’m frustrated that it’s presented that way so often.

So, here is a non-exhaustive list of various ways to practice witchcraft for free - or at least enough of it to get you started in the general sphere of things.

Energy Manipulation/Spellwork

At its core, witchcraft is the practice of manipulating energy into the form you want it to take. If you look at quantum physics, attention and expectation can change the way quantum mechanics present themselves in experiments, and it is my personal belief that witchcraft harnesses this phenomenon through the form of intentional energy manipulation.

The great news? Energy manipulation doesn’t cost a thing to do or to learn. You can learn to manipulate your own energy to do magic, or you can draw energy from the earth, fire, the stars, darkness, the moon and sun, the wind, sound. There are so many sources of energy to tap into - and while they might be easier to tap into with tools and leave you with more energy after a working to not use your own energy, you are absolutely able to do magic with just that.

Tools

As we are talking about using tools already, let’s talk about how to get supplies for the craft without spending anything. Jars for holding supplies or for spells can be obtained from washing out food jars, medicine bottles, or even be made from folding in the ends of paper towel or toilet paper rolls so that they form a container. Herbs and other plants can be obtained either from your kitchen where you already have them, or from wildcrafting what you need from your surroundings (just be sure to do so ethically, safely, and responsibly - there should be a variety of posts circulating around witchblr about how to do that). You don’t even need to gather anything fancy - as I mentioned in a past post, historically witches did not have access to the vast array of stones, woods, spices, incenses, etc that we have in the modern day, and they were still able to practice just fine so get creative. For elemental magic, you can get focuses from your surroundings - water from the rain or the tap, earth or stones from the ground, air from smoke or the wind, and fire from candle flame (or other kinds) or the sun. For material tools used in certain paths, you can use what you already have. A cup or thimble for a chalice, a sharp or dull knife for an athame, a found stick or a needle for a wand (or even your finger), a bowl you own for an offering dish or a general container while working.

Divination

For divination, there are a lot of ways to do it without buying tools. A bowl filled with water or a candle flame can be used for scrying. Dream magic can be used for prophetic dreams. A pendulum just needs to be something with weight suspended using something else - a stone tied to a string, a piece of fruit suspended with hair, a necklace you have, there are all kinds of options. For cartomancy, if you have a deck of cards you can use that, looking up the ways it translates to divination, or you can make your own tarot deck or deck of playing cards to use. I’ve heard from others who have tried this method that it generally works best if you have a decent understanding of the cards’ meanings when making them, but that it isn’t required to get a functional result. You can draw your own runestones and put them in one of the jars mentioned earlier to draw them out of. Palm-reading is a popular and common method of divination that doesn’t require anything but a pair of hands. You can even explore less common methods of divination, like reading bird flight, lightning patterns, bibliomancy, or by the shapes of shadows. There are quite literally hundreds of methods of divination created and practiced throughout history, despite the handful of major methods commonly practiced in the modern day - feel free to get creative.

Learn

You can also always learn about the theory of witchcraft if you aren’t currently in a place where you feel you can practice it. There are hundreds of witchcraft books available online in PDF format, and if you have a public library near you, chances are they might have a few books in the nonfiction section (if you live somewhere that uses the Dewey Decimal System, it’s usually in the 000s). Depending on the rules, some bookstores will also allow you to spend time in the store and read, and a growing number are carrying books on witchcraft.

For a more hands-on approach, you can also try learning from the tools and materials you intend to use. There are quite a few practice exercises around out there describing how to sense the energy of the elements, plants, etc, and I covered how you might get your hands on things like that for free earlier.

I know it is frustrating when you want to get the same tools and supplies as everyone else but those specific tools cost more than can be justified - I’ve been there myself. But when that happened, I looked to the past to see what alternatives could be used and to fellow witches about their solutions to the problem, so I hope this (incomplete) list can help you too! Best wishes!

#witchcraft #witch #witchblr #witches

[ekwolfwriter-blog]

WIP Zutara Challenge: Divine intervention

Man oh man, do I love this prompt. As I have a few fics that I guess fall under this. Most of them are posted in Ao3 is people are curious. I will be posting them at the end so no worries. But honestly anything with the spirits - at least how I consider it - divine intervention - and I have too many ideas for it

Such as one fic idea of the spirits allowing Katara to go back in time with all the memories but cannot physically touch people that she was close to as it could make them remember the horrible future - for angst.

A transformation fic that I have been sitting one - well two - where both Katara and Zuko get turned into animals and find out that the other loves them through the barrier of the lack of human ego getting in the way. (Katara being turned into a fox-snow leopard is also on the docket with Blue Spirit, which I will share in a bit). And a few other ideas like OC's coming in and helping out with the time line or changing it to make it make sense - if you know, you know.

And I also have some links for on going projects with spirit intervention and if people are curious about what I will be doing and going with it, please read and leave a comment!

First on the docket is my all time fav and an intro to an OC that I adore and is definitely one that helps with the story more times than I can count: Fortune Teller Rewrite

Next is one I have to work on, but it does have some spiritual intervention with transformation: Right Time Wrong Tea

Another one is my Forget Me Never fic with implications of spirit intervention.

And Lastly, my new project that will have lots of Divine intervention and spirit shenanigans is Ghost of a Waterbender (of which a new chapter will be posted soon)

As for the WIP challenge, here is a snippet of WIP where Katara unknowingly makes a deal with a spirit intervening for her (P.S. mention of alcohol):

Damasu took another sip of the sake that got brought as he seemed to think for a moment. “Well, it seems to me you already have an idea about what you want. But are conflicted because it does not match what others think or who they think you should be with.”

“Well, yes!” Katara snapped. “I know I should choose but I always had to choose for everything when we were traveling! I always had to care for people and make sure they were cared for. Final decisions on what we ate and did. And yet, never was it my choice completely. And even if I choose, I know people will get hurt and it will be my fault. And just once, I want something easy given to me.”

“Hmm,” Damasu smirked. “Sounds like a way to go, to have things given to you. Much like an animal that gets pulled around and does what it’s told. Is that what you want?”

“What?! No! No way, I will never be jerked around like that. I am not some prize that can be flaunted and told to obey on command.”

“And yet you feel like you are now?”

Katara realized what she said and bit her lip as she looked away from the strange man.

But Damasu only gave a mischievous grin. “From what I can see, you have a wild heart, and that is good. At least for you. You want to have your freedom to fight your own battles and prove yourself but at the same time, would like to know someone will be there for you. Protect you and love you for the powerful and beautiful woman you are, right?”

Katara did not face Damasu again, but she could not help but nod to his question.

Damasu smirked as he took another sip of his drink and poured some more for Katara. “Well, then I think I can help with that. A little wager if you will.”

Katara scoffed. “Oh, and what would this wager be?”

“I bet that the man that will fulfill your wish will be able to see you for who you are, even if you are… shall we say, not looking your best.”

“What? Would I look like I just woke up and have massive bed hair?” Katara asked with slurred words. All the drinks of the night were starting to get to her.

“Something like that,” Damasu said softly, then continued. “The catch is, you must stay that way until either of them figures out it is you. And only then will you be able to find the one that loves you with an act of true love. Either by words or actions. In this new look that is.”

Katara squinted at Damasu as she felt suspicious of him again. “What is in it for you, if this is a proper wager?”

Damasu smirked. “Even while becoming intoxicated, you are still sharp. I love that. And the only thing I want… is a good show.” He said with that continuous mischievous look in her eyes.

Katara chuckled from his answer as she was finding it hard to believe. “So let me get this straight, I will look a certain way. Unrecognizable to the world, and will stay that way until the one who loves me the most figures out that it is me and I get my answer, and all you want is to just watch?”

“Yup,” he answered as he gave her drink and he poured some for himself.

“No strings attach?” Katara grilled him.

Damasu smiled as he reached for Katara’s necklace and tapped it. “In honor of the water and moon spirits that watch over us, I swear. That is all I am offering.”

Katara looked down at his hand then at him. Katara’s vision was getting a bit blurry but while it might be the drinks talking, it did sound nice to have that option. She then reached for the drink and raised it to Damasu. “You have a deal then.”

Damasu smirked as he raised his glass and clinked it to hers. “A deal then,” he quietly cheered. They both took the drink and then Katara sighed. “I should get home.”

“Fair, after all, it will be a busy day tomorrow,” Damasu said as he got up.

“Will I see you tomorrow then?” Katara’s words slurred more as she was getting tired.

Damasu did not answer as he put down something on the bar then tapped Katara’s forehead. “You will see me very soon,” he whispered to her and left.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

#zutara #zutara fanfiction #katara x zuko #writing #zutara month 2024 #divine intervention #spirit interventions

[desceros]

Hi, you probably don't remember me, but I'm the 🪻 anon that sent asks once or twice. Still very much a nervous fan! Your work and the way you write about your experiences and feelings still positively stun me every time I read your posts.

I've been thinking about writing for the tmnt and rottmnt universes for a while now, but I'm still very uncertain about my own interpretation of these characters. If it isn't too much to ask, I'd like to know how you do it??

Your work has such fluidity and... sense?? I don't really quite know how to put it into words, but it inspires me very much! Anyway, I guess I'm asking for writing tips?? I know each interpretation is unique and our own, but I can't help but adore yours! I hope you're having a good day/night, Ms. Desceros!

Ps: English is not my first language, so sorry if my rambling aren't really coherent. (〒 u 〒⁠)

– 🪻

i do very much remember! and i'm so sorry i had this sitting in my inbox for forever and a day lmfaoooo i didn't want to rush the answer and instead give it proper thought/answer for you! :D

so it sounds like you're asking two different things here, which is 1) how do i establish strong characters, and 2) how do i construct flow in a fic.

characterization

for characters, it starts pretty simply with just consuming a lot of the character. for example, with the turtles, i've watched rise and bayverse both a lot. like, a lot a lot. enough that i can hear their voices in my head when i'm writing, because i've heard them so much.

specifically, i've watched it not just casually, but also with the ears of a writer. what words do each of the turtles use? how do they phrase things? when one of them gets annoyed, how does he communicate it? when they're scared, what do they say? how do they move their bodies? what do they do in the background of scenes where they aren't the focus?

once you feel like you kind of know the answers to those questions, the next step is just to write! i probably have about... hm... 30-50k of fic in my icloud that i wrote before i started posting things. the purpose of it was just to figure out how i liked the turtles to sound. because i write them as older adults, they sound just a little different than they do in the show. i inject my headcanons into their voices. these things change how they act, and i fiddled with it until i was happy with it. knowing i wasn't going to publish these made it really easy for me to get creative and push things, until i found the boundaries that i like and that feel good for me.

flow

so good flow is something that really comes with a lot of experience writing. it's one of those things you... pick up as you write a lot, so this part is going to be a bit more. hm. disconnected. nuanced. how you like things paced, how things feel good under your fingers; these are things you'll get better at as you go on. that said, it's something i've very consciously worked on myself, so i do have a few tips for you that'll hopefully speed up that process for you!

my biggest tip is to READ. find authors (fiction and fanfiction!) you like, and READ them. but again, we're not doing it recreationally, we're doing it as a writer.

read your favorite authors and think. think about the things they include and what they don't. what information do they convey in great detail? what information do they convey in exposition? what information do they leave for you to garner on your own? why do you like how they include things? why do you like what they don't? do you miss certain things? do you wish they wouldn't bother with others?

for example, i really love brining in the emotions of a scene. how something makes a character feel. basking in that is something i really love reading, so i have a lot of it in my writing. and i enjoy doing it without Telling you how someone feels. i don't say "donnie is sad." i tell you how his shoulders slump. how he gazes off to the side with a listless expression. how his eyes cloud over with uncertainty. these are things i've enjoyed reading, and so i've incorporated into my writing. i will slow down the flow of my fic, putting a bit of rubato on these moments, because i like how it feels.

i personally enjoy things to be very fluid, connecting from one scene to the next with as little a break as possible. think of french vs english. french is very fluid, english is very percussive. they're both languages, both good, they just sound different to the ear. part of constructing that, for me, means i write from beginning to end without skipping around. it's a style that has its pros and cons, but it allows me to have a single thread, unbroken, though the entire work.

ultimately, your writing is a stained glass of everything you love. the words you think are pretty, the turns of phrase that catch your eye, the verbs that bring action to life. this is the foundation of what people will call your "voice," and a large part of that is your flow, or pacing. i can't really... tell you how to create your stained glass. but this is how you can create your own, and make it something you find beautiful.

#ask tag #writing tag #hope that helps!!!

[vettelsvee]

I FORGIVE YOU, SEB | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | history series masterlist | season 1

history series season 2: part 1 | part 2.1 | part 2.2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

summary: things are so difficult between seb and di, but they try to make things work... or, at least, that's seb's goal

word count: 3974

warnings: bad language, curse words, toxic relationships, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sex (blowjob). everything that is represented here doesn’t define how drivers are in real life. remember this is a fictional work and all you see represented here is just fiction. narrated in both di and seb's pov.

a/n: posting this from uni because i've been so stressed that i totally forgot about posting the last chapter, as well as a few one shots, i'm sorry! buuuut... history season 2 is just finished! history season 3, leave, will be posted from may 24th to may 31st.

taglist: [@theseerbetweenus @annewithaneofthegreengable @vincentvanshoe @formulaonebuff @roisinivy] if you wanna be tagged in each part just tell me in the comments <3

feedback, as well as reblogs and comments, are truly appreciated!

2009

Heppenheim, Germany

Sebastian

"I've talked to Di and we're going to meet."

Britta's expression was a picture when I told her that, so was mine even though I tried to show just the opposite: confidence.

After my words, I positioned myself in front of the woman, who was lost in the pages of a magazine, absorbed, possibly reading about how Jenson Button had won the 2009 Formula 1 season, completely deservedly, over yours truly, Sebastian Vettel, and also about the high chances the newly incorporated Fernando Alonso had of winning the next one.

"Sebastian Vettel is nothing but a spoiled, pampered child, who is being given everything he definitely does not deserve, for being a false young promise in the world of motorsport. What the German does best is to put on shows and be the center of attention, just as it happened with Diana Wagner at the last German Grand Prix. The girl, an Austrian living in Barcelona and, let's not deny it, quite attractive, is now happily pregnant by Nico Rosberg, with whom she started her relationship..."

I couldn't continue reading the nonsense that the media had been talking about lately since Rosberg was seen with that blonde who, while they didn't know she was Di, I knew perfectly as soon as I saw her face because I knew her all too well. My nerves plummeted, and that's why, as if it were a reflex act, I did nothing but snatch the tangle of photos and gossip from my PR and tossed it aside, without looking where it fell, but forgetting about its existence shortly after.

"Why did you do that?" she yelled at me, visibly angry, pointing her index finger at me. "What do you mean you're going to talk to Diana?"

Didn't she understand German or was I explaining myself poorly?

"I've talked to Di and we're going to meet," I repeated, a little louder this time. "We're going to meet at a nearby café. I think we need to clarify everything that has happened since..."

"Since she found out you were dating Hanna because you didn't bother to be more careful or put in enough effort to hide it," she cut me off.

Exactly.

"You know as much as I do that was going to happen," I countered, even though she was right, simply because, as always, I didn't want to admit it.

"Don't you dare contradict me, Sebastian Vettel," she replied, now standing up and approaching me angrily. "And even less so on this. Most of what has happened, if not all, has been your fault."

That was a lie. The fault had been solely Hanna's for behaving so badly with Diana that day, or my sister's, who sometimes seems stupid and doesn't know when to keep quiet.

I didn't know that Prater was kissing me on purpose so that my paddock girl would see it and it would bother her. Either that, or I pretended so well not to hurt my girl, the love of my life, by not having her at a Grand Prix earlier.

Whatever it was, everything went from bad to worse, and it ended up hurting me more than expected because not only did I have to endure days of bad mood from my girlfriend, but also desperation and headaches from not receiving a response to the voicemail I sent to Di.

And here we are now.

"Before you tell me that the fault lies with Hanna, who was only happy to finally spend time with her boyfriend," she began to lecture me, "or with your sister, who is just a child who did it to enjoy time with her family," was she reading my mind or was I dreaming? "you know it's yours and yours alone."

Yes, I knew all that was true- However, it was easier for me to deal with the guilt and the sense of guilt if I blamed others for asking for what, although at first I thought it would be something more routine in my life, ended up becoming something essential that I never thought I would lose.

Better than something, someone.

"You've completely ignored Diana since you yelled all those things at her at Nürburgring and she ran away. And Hanna? I don't want to speak ill of her," she clarified before saying anything else, "but you've allowed her to come between your friendship with Diana and not only that: to manipulate you too."

"Britta, it wasn't like that," I tried to defend my... girlfriend? "I was the one who started to obsess about whether I wanted Hanna or Di, and I became almost sickly obsessed with the latter to the point that I made Hanna feel bad. It's my fault no matter how much I try to play dumb most of the time," I admitted.

"And didn't she make Diana feel bad because of her jealousy? Because she couldn't stand that there was a remote possibility that you might replace her with your teammate?"

She didn't just make her feel bad, she made her feel like the crap you find lying on the ground that everyone steps on except you, because you don't want to get dirty. She had enough the previous year with Alex and company, and that's why I tried to talk to my girlfriend. Every attempt to make her see reason, to my misfortune and, above all, Di's, was in vain: according to her, Diana was just a hindrance in her path, and that's why she ended up clashing with her several times. And if she kissed me in the middle of the garage, it was because she felt like it, not because she wanted to make her feel bad. That was the last thing she intended.

Could that, Hanna's possible manipulation, be causing my confusion? Or was it that I was...?

It didn't matter. After all, it was not important to rack my brains over a person who was no longer in my life; at least, not as much as before or as much as I would like.

"It's not your confusion, Sebastian," I didn't understand how the woman in front of me was guessing each and every one of the thoughts I was having. "You simply didn't try hard enough to take care of that friendship, and that's what made Hanna, in the end, get her way."

"Di should have understood from the beginning that we were together," I ignored her little speech. I was tired of hearing things that, from my point of view, weren't true.

She sat back down on the couch, inviting me to sit beside her. As soon as I did, I noticed that her expression was completely different from what it usually was: while Britta used to be smiling most of the time, now she seemed more serious, and that was not at all common for her.

"Listen to me carefully, Sebastian," she took my face in her hands and brought our faces as close as possible. "Neither you are to blame for falling in love with Diana, nor is she to blame for you behaving like this with her."

Like this? Ignoring her, as I should have done from the beginning, and putting my girlfriend before her?

Britta was crazy, and she kept saying more and more crazy things that made me feel crazier.

Or was I the one with the problem, and she was just making me see reality?

"Don't you think Hanna is afraid?" Roeske interjected after an uncomfortable silence of just a few seconds.

"Afraid of what?" I asked, not understanding what she meant.

"Of being replaced," she snapped. "Of being replaced by Di."

My head began to accumulate a series of thoughts that I couldn't describe. I was sure that Hanna had been the love of my life for quite some time; at the same time, I knew firsthand that all the jealousy attacks and gossip she unleashed about the blonde who was becoming my favorite were just that: nonsensical words about someone you don't really know.

We tend to prejudge and hurt when we don't know the true identity of someone, and that's the saddest thing about this world: that we rarely get to know the real face of people because we don't give them the chance. And whose fault is that? Ours, for speaking before knowing.

I know that if Di and Hanna weren't caught up in all this turmoil because of me, they would be good friends. I am lucky, or unlucky, depending on how you look at it, to say that my girls are too similar and different at the same time; and I'm not just talking about physically.

"Maybe Hanna felt threatened by the bond Di and I created last year," I admitted.

"Does Hanna know you're meeting Diana?"

No way.

"What? No!" I yelled. "If Hanna panics, I panic… And if I panic, the media panics and start talking shit as usual," I explained as I quickly moved around the living room. "I also don't want to give you extra work during the holidays, Britta. You know how I am."

"Exactly, because I know how you are, it's what scares me the most," she objected. "Have you thought about how you're going to tell the media that you've ended your relationship?"

How? Me, ended with Hanna?

"But..."

"You told me you wanted to talk to Wagner about that, Sebastian."

She threw that at me without any scruples, and what shocked me the most, without it being true. If I remember correctly, I hadn't said anything about my breakup in this short conversation we were having because there was nothing to say: Hanna and I hadn't broken up, we were still together and would continue to be. Although I wish not.

What was she saying?

God, feeling confused right now was an understatement. My head was spinning, and I didn't know why. Maybe, I had consumed some weed and that's why I was like this, because it wasn't normal for me to feel more and more confused, as if I were in an alternate reality where I couldn't trust anything or anyone.

"I'm leaving, I can't take this anymore," I lied as best as I could.

I realized I had been talking to myself when I turned around because Britta was no longer there.

I left my house as fast as I could, and a feeling of anxiety began to grow inside me. I felt very strange, and I had no idea why. As soon as I set foot on the street, completely covered in snow, I noticed that although everything around me seemed like my town, in a way it wasn't. With my hands tucked into the pockets of my RedBull jacket, which I hardly ever wore out of season, I was looking around because I had never felt Heppenheim so different.

Children weren't running around on the sidewalks to go to the parks that Lara and Fabian used to frequent, and that Melanie, Stephanie, and I used to visit some years ago; the same was true for the cars, which seemed to have disappeared without a trace. Not to mention the hustle and bustle in the small neighborhood shops and the only shopping center... there was no trace of anyone.

Even the wind's breath was too gentle, and it seemed to mimic the sighs of a sleeping person.

But I focused on what had been going around in my head since that stupid fight on my part, obviously, I had with Diana.

Hanna and she were two people who, with the passing of more or less time, had become fundamental to my life. While Hanna was the person I was sharing my personal life with and building a future, the same thing happened with Di: I literally spent hours with her, especially since the intern had joined, at the same time as me, Red Bull Racing team.

There were too many issues to handle alone, and that's why I hadn't confronted them: hence my anxiety had increased, attacks included. And, if we add the criticism from journalists in the motorsport and gossip world...

Why did I feel the need to hide my friendship with Di from Hanna? And to hide my relationship with Hanna from Di?

And Hanna's jealousy… was it really because she was afraid of losing what we had built up for some time now, and had planned to build in the years to come? I knew my girlfriend had insecurities, just like me, but were they so deep that they would hurt Diana?

Had I lost Di because of fear of the unknown?

The whirlwind was still there when suddenly, I bumped into someone. I lifted my gaze, and there she was, as beautiful as ever. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulders, and her bangs covered her eyes, my favorite physical part of her, more than usual. Despite seeming just as surprised as I was to have run into each other so suddenly, she was, to my surprise, the first to speak:

"Hello, Seb."

"Hello, Di."

I didn't know where to start or what to say to her. There was so much to talk about and, especially, to clarify, that the words began to get stuck in my throat, as if they didn't want to come out. She also seemed very nervous, and that only made me lose myself even more in her.

"I know that maybe it wasn't a good idea to show up here, but I think I owed it to you in some way."

No, she didn't owe it to me, but Diana was too good for this world. In the end, she was the first to articulate a word, her hands pointing to the space around us, which no longer seemed to be my hometown, but the Nürburgring pit lane, right where we last talked. My confusion was evident. At least, that was what the strange look Wagner gave me showed.

"What's wrong with you?" the girl wanted to know, still standing in place, as if she couldn't move. "Is it about what happened here a few months ago?"

"I'm confused, Di," I had the courage to admit.

The blonde nodded understandingly, as if she were a machine.

"I completely understand, Seb. The same thing happens to me with Nico and with you," she replied. Was that why she was dating Rosberg? Her belly, much more noticeable than usual, seemed to suggest otherwise. "Hanna and I... let's say we didn't get along from the beginning," she returned to the previous topic.

"But why?" I insisted almost desperately. "What bothers you about her?"

"I don't know, you should ask her that," she replied honestly. All I know is that your girlfriend wasn't good to me. Besides, after all you told me, here," she pointed to the asphalt, "we became strangers to each other."

"That's what I don't understand, Di," her gaze made me correct myself immediately, "I mean, Diana... You and I are friends, aren't we?"

She shook her head. Iimmediately, she began to nod. She began to hold onto her belly tightly, something I considered as a kind of defense mechanism to feel more comfortable and, in part, calmer.

"Yes, just friends," she clarified with a forced smile. "Do you think we could have something more at some point?"

Yes, of course I wanted something more with her at some point, but I couldn't tell her because I knew she was already making her life with Rosberg… at least according to the media.

I wanted to tell her that I wanted to leave Hanna and start a relationship with her. I wanted her to become Diana Vettel, my wife, and make her the happiest person in the world along with our children. Saying that I wanted to share a life with her for the rest of my life was what I most desired, but not only my voice, but also my pride, and partly my reputation and common sense, made me hide all those feelings.

In those moments, I wished I was Nico Rosberg. The only thing that comforted me was knowing that, knowing me, I would be treating her as she deserved. Di deserved to be treated like a queen, and that was an understatement.

"No," I tried to hide the truth as much as possible. "You and I will always be friends, Diana Wagner."

While Diana kept talking to me about her pregnancy and her relationship with my teammate, I began to hear whispers that gradually became louder, as if someone, shouting in my ear, was interrupting our conversation.

"I know, Sebastian. You and I will always be one, no matter who gets in between us," the Austrian replied, still not moving from her spot.

"Do you think we can try again?" I said, trying not to show the emotion I really felt when I saw a shy smile forming on her face. "Do you think you can forgive me?"

She looked at me and could do nothing but nod repeatedly, as if she were marking some kind of rhythm. Her lips curved even more, and relief began to wash over me.

"I forgive you, Seb."

My eyes snapped open, and I woke up to a little light seeping through the curtains. My heart was racing and sweat was soaking my forehead much more than after a race. For a moment, I didn't know where I was, so I took some time, albeit desperately, to recognize everything.

It was my room. I was on my bed, with Hanna beside me, shaking me as if her life depended on it.

It had all been a dream, and I didn't know how to feel about it, relieved or worried that nothing had been real: relieved because, maybe, there was a remote possibility that Di hadn't gone out with Nico, and worried simply because what had been discussed had been in vain.

"What's wrong, honey?"

My eyes roamed over to my girlfriend, who leaned over me and started planting kisses all over my face. I could see her breasts exposed, and I also felt my nakedness under the sheets. Gradually, I remembered the events of last night and how, after drinking a few too many glasses of champagne with our families for New Year's Eve, Hanna and I ended up begging each other for more pleasure.

"Oh, Seb... stop being so silly," she said, rearranging herself and leaning on the headboard, still looking at me. "It was all a dream, but you don't have to worry about anything or anyone, and much less about the people who don't respond to the voicemails you're so good at hiding!" Her ironic tone made my anger grow a little, but I let it go. It wasn't the day or the right time to finally tell the blonde a few things. "I trust you," she kissed me, "and I know that 2010 is going to be a great year for you," she concluded.

Her words reassured me and reminded me of everything I had done so far, and what I would continue to do until further notice because I couldn't afford to hurt anyone; I was too good even for that, no matter how much the press tried to sell the opposite.

I had to continue ignoring Diana Wagner, act as if she didn't exist, or at least as if she had never appeared in my life and turned it upside down. Turn a deaf ear to the fact that I had fallen in love with her, and forget to acknowledge that I was too afraid to leave Hanna because the unknown terrified me more than I had ever thought. I was used to routine and didn't want to cause more harm than I apparently had to my best friend, Hanna Prater, no matter how much she was doing to me by behaving and talking in such ways about the girl who, in part, could have been me.

If Di, my Di, was the right person, we were right for each other, we would end up finding each other again somehow.

[...]

2009

December 31st Gland, Switzerland

Schumacher Residence

Diana

A black sequined dress, perfectly fitted to my curves, with a quite promising neckline that showed even more than necessary, was what Nico Rosberg, the new Mercedes driver, and my boyfriend, had chosen for our first dinner together. My blonde hair fell over my shoulders, a bit tousled; the same went for my makeup, a little smudged. It had all been the German's idea, who had decided to have a quick session of sex, mainly a blowjob that he had fancied as a belated Christmas gift, before going down to the main hall of the Schumacher residence.

The night before New Year's Eve was going wonderfully. As soon as my boyfriend told me that the family, and more specifically, Michael, his new teammate, had invited us to spend New Year's Eve at their house, I couldn't contain my excitement. Obviously, Nico got angry and yelled at me to stop acting like a fool, that I wasn't five years old to react like that. I was annoyed at first, but I ended up agreeing with him. It wasn't the occasion to behave like a fan going to my idol's house.

Dinner was better than I expected, as well as the warm welcome I received from Corinna, along with the kindness and affection I quickly felt for Gina and Mick while the men chatted, made me feel at home for the first time. I was so relaxed that I didn't even force myself to look for my mobile phone, hidden somewhere among Nico's belongings, to answer the calls that my sister, who was with my father and his sister, my aunt, in the hospital, would have possibly made to me. If something good had come from my father dying faster and faster it was that, in part, the family had come together again.

The countdown began as we talked animatedly about trivial things, like anecdotes and a few jokes. The lights went out suddenly, and I saw the seven-time champion coming with some sparklers in his hands, trying not to burn himself, which he handed out to each of us.

"Ten, nine, eight..."

2010 would indeed be my year, I was sure of that.

"Seven, six, five..."

Remembering him came in flashbacks, and as much as I told myself it was time to get over it, it was impossible, especially when everything seemed so red in my head.

"Four, three, two..."

I had to do my best to leave Sebastian behind, even though forgetting him was like trying to know somebody I never met.

He was my past, and Nico was my future.

"Happy New Year!"

Nico, catching me off guard and ignoring the children's dancing and the affectionate kiss of the married couple, took my chin firmly, forcefully, and kissed me desperately, as if I were going to leave at any moment. His tongue slipped into my mouth even though I hadn't given permission; as always, I ended up reluctantly responding. His hands were roaming my body, and I could feel his desire awaken with the slight touches our intimacy seemed to be igniting.

He knew perfectly well how to make me feel valid, loved, desired; I was clear that if he treated me like this, it was because I deserved it.

If I was a game to Nico Rosberg, I was more than willing to accept all his deals to feel loved by someone once in my life because I knew that no one, never, was going to end up loving me.

As the tabloids had begun to say after the leaked photos in Monaco, who would want to be with a girl like me?

Who would want Diana Wagner?

#formula 1 #sebastian vettel #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #history #vettelsvee #toro rosso #red bull racing #sv5 #red bull f1 #red bull seb #ferrari #ferrari seb #aston martin #Aston Martin f1 #vettel #sebastian vettel fanfiction #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel x oc #sebastian vettel x female character #diana vettel #diana wagner #fanfic #fanfiction #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x fem oc

[layraket]

okay finally the most waited post (of mine (maybe)) since yesterday!!! me rambling in a weird/deep way!!!!

first of all we start strong

the Wolfie thing was something that i've been wondering when will be adressed, and when i read the word "wolf" i got nuts

I felt weird here cuz Four just mentioned Time and himself??? im crackling at Leg's face "my guy you forgot someone" now thinking better abt it Legend didn't tell anyone abt the bunny thing appart of Twi and Sky, so it makes sense they not knowing he already found out

It makes sense that he didn't wanted to show his wolf form to them at the start, he can't just go "hey guys look i can turn into a wolf *cool shadow transformation* AUUUUUUUUUU-" and not freak them out.

and i find a little amusing Wind wanting a confirmation, he wants to make sure that now there's not fractures between each other's trust. They still got their secrets, yeah, but he still wanted to at least hear that theyre cool about this one

Twi almost died, and the only reason that he's still breathing is because of them, obviously he will trust them now.

my poor guy has been working so hard, being the emotional support dog in the group together with big brother duty is exhausting

still makes me laugh that nobody really made 2+2 and realised that it was a little suspicious that every time Wolfie was there Twi was patrolling. They really share the name Link huh

Wolves are beautiful but dangerous animals, they are strong and usually agressive to invasors, makes sense to hide something that makes people run away from you. You might be able to defend them, but they will only pay back with scared glances

ohhh i would really love to see this! Wild already knew Twilight, well, future Twilight. He saw the giant dog wandering around and thought "hey i know him thats the strange wolf! hey hiii buddyyy" this guy really

love them trying to explain time shenanigans. keep it up buddy. you know basic math you can do this.

the rest of them talking abt the wolf thing while here my man fighting with the gps

Wild you already established your point calm down

Something that i and a lot of people noticed: Wars seems more relaxed, the past updates he was at the verge of screaming at the void. Now here he is, bothering his brother. Happy Warriors is back!

See the only thing he needed was his emotional support scarf back

if i had a coin every time a character hide their true identity in the zelda series i would have 16 coins, which is a lot considering that i thought it would be just 5 or 6 times what the hell

oh i know that look. He has already an idea of what wars menat with that, he has already experienced the same situation

Four doesn't fully approve the use of shadow magic yet. He remembers someone that because of that lost himself in the power. What if this happends too with Twi? How will they handle that situation? His mind is already too noisy just with thinking it a little

He hopes they will not have to confront the consecuences of dark magic's abuse

i remember that someone said Wolfie looks weaker, and honestly i agree

im not sure if this is the case, but if it is i wouldn't be surprised. He looks thinner, his fur more tangled and less flat

Still fluffy boy, tho

AND NOW. the panels that made me laugh for some weird reason/i liked a lot without any comments of why

art at its peak as always

(art credits goes towards @linkeduniverse as always!)

#linked universe #linked universe update #linked universe spoilers #lu spoilers #lu update #not tagging them all again lol #lu wolfie #hey hear me out hes a good boy he needs it #something that i also noticed is that time seems a little stressed out #why? idk maybe something to do with malon's letter? #didn't find somewhere to comment that so uhhh exclusive content for tags readers #i talk #sorry if in this one has less analysis there wasn't too much thinking while writing this lol

[jadedxhearts]

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐚𝐜𝐞

Law ends up falling asleep in his office, but is quickly waken up as he starts having a wet dream about you. Needing to get off, Law discovers you’ve left a pair of panties on his desk; the perfect thing to help aid him.

originally posted on August 18, 2023

Please note that this is an old work and isn't representative of my current writing skills!

While it wasn’t strange for Law to be up late, it certainly was odd for him to fall asleep at his desk. He’d almost always avoid it, saying things about how it’s bad for his back.

Which is why you found it quite odd that he hadn’t come back to your room yet. You’d woken up for some water, only to find the other half of your bed cold and empty. 

Sighing, you stretched and drank some of the water on your nightstand, before deciding to go drag your boyfriend back to bed.

—

It’d only been about fifteen minutes.

The day was long and tiring, especially with the crew having routine medical exams all day. Law was exhausted, to say the least. He’d been reviewing papers at his desk when he felt his eyes become heavy. The last thing he’d managed to see before passing out was the clock, which read 12:16 am.

At 12:31, Law woke up. He found it odd he’d only slept for such a short amount of time. Normally he’d be passed out for a good hour before either he woke up and went to bed, or before you’d come and bring him back.

His body was heavy and tense. He felt hot and disheveled, despite only being asleep for not even half an hour. Yawning, Law realized there was a certain tightness constricting his body that could only mean one thing.

Glancing downward with a tired gaze, Law groaned and promptly rolled his gray eyes at the sight. He was hard. Extremely hard, enough that it was nearly painful as his length strained against his jeans. That’s when Law remembered…

He’d dreamt about you in those fifteen minutes that he’d fallen asleep. 

In the dream, Law entered his office, feeling upset over various things, just generally feeling annoyed and irritable. But of course, you could always make him feel better. 

You were sitting on his desk, bare body just barely illuminated underneath the dim candle lighting of the room. Your legs hung off the front of the desk, arms behind you as they held your body up. Your breasts seemed so round and full underneath the lighting, drawing Law’s attention to them before anything else. He licked his lips, wanting nothing more than to suck on them, feed off of you. 

But then your face stole the attention away. Your cheeks were flushed red, mouth hung open with drool spilling past your wet lips. Your eyes were halfway closed, lazily. There was a look on your face that seemed somewhere between desperate and fucked-out. 

You looked something straight out of one of those magazines with prostitute pirates in them. Something Law always turned his nose up to, having less than zero interest in. But now, he can’t help but think how good you’d look on one, displayed so prettily for everybody to see.

He approached you, placing a hand on your right thigh, squeezing the soft skin. “Need some help, y/n?”

“Please Law,” you begged, biting down on your lips. “It hurts so bad, need you in me now.”

He kissed you before looking over your body from a front angle now, his eyes landing on your swollen pussy. Your body would tense every other moment, your cunt slightly contracting as you squeezed the muscles in it, clenching on nothing. 

Law moved to kneel, burying his face into your sopping cunt after he took in a deep breath, inhaling your sweet lewd scent. 

But just as his tongue could squirm inside you with a loud, melodic moan leaving you, it was all over. 

Law panted, realizing he had to do something about the monstrosity in his pants right away. There was no way he could walk back to his room like this, and in his state of being blinded with lust, he entirely forgot to think of using his powers to teleport you into the office.

Law quickly tossed his shirt off, unzipping his jeans before throwing them open and freeing his aching cock. Wrapping one hand around the shaft, he let out a hiss from the contact. Shit, he was already feeling as though he could cum at any moment.

Then, in the back of his mind, Law recalled you coming in here last night and riding him while he sat at the desk. And how you’d left your panties in the corner of his desk.

Gray eyes searched his desk, finding the pair of black lace panties sitting just where you’d left them. Law, unable to control himself from the horniness, snatched the pair with his right hand, using his left to squeeze his length. It was so dirty, but Law didn’t quite care right now. He was so turned on by the idea that he didn’t even question doing it; Law brought the black panties up to his face, breathing in the sweet scent of your cunt lingering on them. 

As the smell hit his nose, Law’s hips bucked upward, and suddenly he was stroking his cock with fever, needing to cum as soon as possible. Taking in one last breath of your intoxicating scent, Law reluctantly let go of his cock, fisting the panties into his left hand as he wrapped them around his engorged, needy cock, now using them to jerk himself off. 

A moan escaped him, head falling forward as he rutted up into his hand, feeling the lace of your panties pleasantly rubbing against his reddened, swollen tip. 

“Fuck, y/n…” he breathed out, biting his lip and clenching his right hand as he kept rubbing his length. 

—

You’d expected Law to be completely passed out when you found him. However, what you ended up discovering was the last thing you expected from somebody like him.

With a careful hand, you quietly opened the metal door so as to not wake up your lover. But as soon as your head poked into the room, taking one step in, you could hear it.

Law’s voice sounded broken and weak, as he moaned and whimpered your name. You scanned the room before your eyes landed on where he sat, jeans around his ankles as he had a hand wrapped around his cock, some sort of fabric in the hand which held his member… but, were those-

Your panties? 

Law was using your panties to get off. 

Gasping, you quickly shut the door behind you before somebody walked by and walked into the scene, much like you had. Only, this is something that only you’d like to witness. 

Law seemed scared by the sudden noise, his entire body jumping as he turned his head to look at you. But, his hand never stopped moving. His mouth hung open, pathetic whines leaving his lips as he looked at you, pitifully. 

“Y/n,” he whined, dragging out the end of your name. “Baby, h-help.”

You approached Law, getting a better look at the sight before you. 

“This is what you’re doing? Instead of coming back to bed?”

“I fell asleep, a-nd… when I woke up, I was so hard,” he mumbled, a few gasps escaping him as his hips jerked and rutted upward.

“What do you want me to do?” You asked, pulling his hat off of his head to reveal messy, sweaty locks of black hair.

“J-just… undress, or something, I dunno…”

“Okay,” you smiled, placing a kiss onto Law’s forehead, before pulling your tank top over your shoulders, revealing your breasts to Law. As the shirt got pulled away, they bounced as they released from their hold. The sight caused Law to let out a loud, desperate moan.

Next was your pajama shorts, quickly followed by your panties. You figured Law needed more of a show to get off, so you hopped up onto his desk, spreading your legs for him to see your glistening cunt. 

You could feel yourself throbbing, knowing Law masturbating to you was turning you on way more than it should’ve. So as to not waste time, you licked two fingers, bringing your hand down to begin playing with your puffy pussy lips. 

Using the two fingers to spread your lips, Law got a good look at your hole, a groan leaving him as you clenched around nothing, much like you had in his dream.

Once you deemed yourself wet enough, you dove in, inserting one finger into your cunt. You whined, using your free hand to grope your breast, kneading at the plushy skin while pinching and pulling your nipple in between. 

Quickly, the room became filled with the lewdest noises you’d ever heard. Law’s desperate whimpers, the squelching of your wet pussy as you fingered yourself, combined with your’s and Law’s mixed moans, both of you coming undone at the sight of each other. 

With you now aiding him, Law was able to finish. But, the urge to finish in you took his body over, as he tossed the panties away, grabbed your hips with one hand and used the other to pull your hand out of your cunt, before shoving his aching cock into your wet hole. 

As soon as his length was buried in you, Law’s hot sticky cum spilled inside you, whimpers and cries escaping his mouth as he gripped your hips so harshly you knew there’d be marks later.

Feeling the seed filling you up, you began cumming too, body shaking as your hips jerked up to meet Law’s thrusts, pretty moans leaving your lips.

You both eventually calmed down, you collapsing backwards to lay flat on the desk, while Law fell forward to lay on top of you, his cock still deep inside you.

“F-fuck,” he cursed, burying his face into your neck.

You let out a light-hearted chuckle, beginning to run your fingers through his hair. “Should’ve just told me you needed help, baby,” you whispered, feeling Law’s exhausted body tremble against you. “Though, I did enjoy the show.”

“Y-you’re not mad I used your panties?” He asked, voice weak.

“Of course not,” you smiled, a cute giggle leaving you.

“Th-that’s… good to know.”

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x reader smut #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x fem reader #law x reader #law x you #law x y/n #law x reader smut #law x afab reader #trafalgar d water law x you #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law x y/n

[pearwaldorf]

I suppose it is a testament to how viral the Kendrick Lamar/Drake beef is because I saw Tumblr talking about it. I mean this descriptively and pejoratively.

Once upon a time, there were Black people on Tumblr. I remember this because I was there. There were enough, in fact, that there was a regular Blackout day where users pledged to boost Black content and selfies. The site has gotten so much whiter, to the point where you see shit like this. Some white people are absolute weaksauce and I'm genuinely amazed they don't, like, clutch their pearls when they encounter rap/hip-hop/R&B in real life.

There's a now deleted post that talked about how rap has been the most discriminated against music genre because of its intimate association with Blackness*. "Concern" about rap is why we have those parental advisory stickers on physical media. idk if they still do this, but they used to have radio stations that proudly proclaimed "All the music you love, minus the rap!" (I don't remember if they included all predominantly Black genres of music or just rap. Either way it was racist af.)

And until I read Gita's post (full disclosure: they're talking about my tags), it never occurred to me there are people who can go their whole goddamn lives without ever listening to rap/hip-hop. It's like calling yourself a well-rounded reader but not reading Morrison, Delany, or Baldwin. I genuinely do not believe you can say you know about music if you don't have at least a high level understanding of hip-hop. (Or jazz. Or country. But I digress.)

Like. Kendrick isn't exactly new on the scene. He won a Pulitzer, ffs! (Drake isn't either but idgaf about him, for many reasons.) And if people's minds are blown that rap can sound "like that"? If I were gracious I'd say "Welcome to being one of the ten thousand" but honestly it makes me sad it took beef for people to discover how good Kendrick and rap can be, because they never bothered to look outside their little bubble or allowed racist assumptions to color their perceptions of it.

--

* On the flip side, back when Hamilton was a thing, I legit saw people on here say rap should only be made by Black people. idk what they thought Lin Manuel Miranda is, but spoiler, he's not Black. Also saying that displays some real fucking ignorance about rap/hip-hop as a an expression of resistance all over the world.

#pear text #yes i've always been a snob #but hopefully i'm a snob about the right things now #go through the reblogs of gita's post #find a new artist to listen to #it's good for you

[sadao-tsuki]

Yes, I finally drew something..

Nah, here's a canvas filled with doodles of my bllk OC's

Yes, I made it with different brushes, how did you know?

I loved some and others.. well, not so much :p

Anyways, I wrote some things about those little doodles that I'll put under the pictures, so feel free to read and nah, just showing this thing I did (?

(remember that English isn't my first language, so if you find some errors then y'know why is it)

Starting with them..

THE BESTIESSSSS with my fellow @maochira 's OC Takumi teehee

Remember that thing about them taking Shidou's phone to text Sae?

I drew that EXACTLY, with a doodle of the boys interacting (they are talking about their crushes :0) and little Takumi smiling ;)

And a doodle of Lorenzo posing to the camera with Snuffy scolding the boys behind HAHAHA

He would surely post it with something like "pic with the boys getting scolded for some sh¡t"

(Ciro immediately showing that it wasn't his idea, cuz he's a good boy, and good boys don't do bad things, yeah yeah :D)

Btw, it was hard for me to understand Takumi's hair ahhh, I tried my best :')

I didn't do a lot of things here, just enjoying the smoothness of the brush that was literally delicious

So I did some expressions of Ciro hehe :)

Now I have a brush to draw some vent art muahahaha

Here I did some of Ciro's relationship with the boyssssss >:)

Ciro is always the dude that you can trust your secrets because he will never say it to anybody else, because he forgets about them the second you talk about something else haha

He mostly hears what others are talking about, and he only puts attention when it's something that the person really likes, if it's something that it's not serious (like in Sendou's little doodle) he surely won't pay attention to it

He's the same age as Aiku and Lorenzo (I want to think that Lorenzo is 19 years old, okay). The moment he told the rest of the team that he was 19 everybody was so confused cuz, hey, he looks like a 16/15 year old boy (because of his height and personality)

He reeeaaaaally loves his teammates (especially one of them)

He talks about some series or anime and watches movies with Niko, and even has that thing of having a random photoshoot with Aryu, since he looks majestic in random moments and wants to show him that (even if Aryu knows that already)

And

Oh..

His way of expressing his love is hard, with complimenting somebody's skills, showing interest in everything and just being there for them, and that's what he mostly does with Barou. He doesn't know how that guy managed to make him feel like that, but sure he enjoys it, and even if he can't express it with words he tries to show it anyways... Even if that confuses Barou as hell

And he mostly uses baggy clothes to hide his body, not because he's insecure.. just a little bit, but also because he likes how they look on him, he likes to look small on purpose haha

And yeah, I didn't forget about Amai tho

I didn't make so much content about him, but with this new chapter..

I needed to do something, y'know

Besides that little writing I put there

And what did I do?

Well, at first, I started with that ship with Kaiser jokingly, but I liked it so much that, well, I got obsessed (and this is just a small part of the content haha)

This guy is the most normal OC I did in my life, even if it started thanks to my bf haha

About him, he had a psychologist parents, or well, parents that care about mental health and so on, so it happened to him to know some things about psychology and he turned out to be the psychologist of Blue Lock (his office is literally his room HAHAHA)

The first friends he had were (ofc) Kaiser and Ness, that he met in the Bastard Munchen when they were younger. And their first Interaction was literally with Michael Kaiser himself, just a little compliment from Amai

"hey, I like your hair, it looks nice"

"uh? Ah, thanks dude"

And since then they started to talk and talk and then they become friends with the pass of the days hehe

That was in the past, in the present, he's not as close to him since Kaiser got, uh, weird, with the way he treats Ness and got a little bit too narcissistic, etc etc.. but he still cares deeply about him cuz he knows him, and it doesn't matter that they aren't close anymore, if he sees Kaiser bad he will go and comfort him with hugs, pats, maybe kisses since "it's still casual" between them

And, yeah, he surely doesn't get sad or shocked with other stories

BUT-

The moment he heard about Hiori's vent, about his parents and how he imagined that the zombies on the videogames were his parents..

Well

He kinda got a little bit like: "dude, you're clearly not okay" and it left him kinda restless and uneasy (?

Fun fact, his mother is Japanese and his father German, so the moment he got to Blue Lock he didn't need those things to understand the other's language cuz he's fluent in Japanese and German (?

Another fun fact..

Kaiser and Ness didn't know Amai could speak in Japanese.. or have Japanese blood LMAO.

I IMAGINED THEM BEING SILLY BY SOME REASON HAHAHA :'D

#i did something #wow #blue lock #bllk #blue lock oc #bllk oc #oc #original character #sendou shuto #oliver aiku #niko ikki #aryu jyubei #barou shoei #michael kaiser #alexis ness #? #nothing else #bye bye

[websurfshark]

season 19 was a let down 😭😭

spoilers below!

i’m sure that over a year of hype doesn’t help my case here but i really was expecting something a little better 😭

i don’t mean to be too much of a critic in this post and sorry if i seem like i’m complaining but man 🧍‍♂️ full review here we go

sarges death was expected and the character arc that simmons got from it was pretty well done , he was cool — sarges death did just seem kind of rushed but that’s probably also time constraints , nobody seemed super affected by it tho and that kinda put me off ☹️ sure the reds were like Sad right after he died , and grif + simmons had the moment at his grave, but it’s literally not brought up again ? simmons just gets to be a leader kinda and tucker doesn’t get told he killed sarge, nobody else brings it up after the climax?? not even during the climax as they fight meta again ?

^ although sarges final moments were done very nicely and the va’s had a ton of emotion ❤️

along with that, wash’s acting was amazing as always

grif was characterized really weirdly throughout the first half of the season - i’m guessing they tried to make him the “straight man” of the group but it kinda fell flat because he just seemed irrationally angry every single time he spoke 😭 he kinda evened out as it went on tho so that’s better than nothing

Simmons was very kind this season that was interesting and cool He didn’t have a care in the world

animation was wonky at times but it was there - fight scenes weren’t monty oum style of crazy but they were creative with them and ill give them that! good callbacks during the fight

character callbacks were cool! i’m glad we got a little bit of kai (no reunion with grif tho so that sucks), dylan was there but she was kinda characterized weird, grey there, agent one (???) for some reason, 479er!!!!! she was well done and she fit really well into the plot!, no checkup on chorus life which was kinda sad (no lieutenants boohoohoo) some of the callbacks felt out of place tho

i don’t like how they handled tex cause even though it was cool she was back , i feel like we’ve done this dance a thousand times

also carolina quite literally came out of nowhere ?? how did she just ? drop from the sky what ??? LOL

absolutely no donut at all ? there was like one mention of him that i can remember ? lopez is just forgotten about back at the bases ??? i don’t know if the donut thing was something behind the scenes but Uhh

music wasnt up to par - they just reused old songs basically , the weird song that played during the “Memories” sequence wasn’t good

i’m not the hugest fan of the ais in general so i don’t think about them too much but i feel like sigma wasn’t characterized in the same way he was in the freelancer seasons — in pfl he kind of subtly manipulated maine into becoming meta etc etc but for tucker , he basically just like😭 tortured him WHICH IS PROBABLY CAUSE LIKE tucker knows This guy is evil Ahhhh!!! but still that was a little weird

no grimmons sad day for the rvb fandom - some scenes could be read as grimmons, like grif basically inviting simmons to go with him , i’m confused on why simmons stayed because simmons himself literally said One last mission ? so idk what he’s doing bro idk if he’s staying in blood gulch or what — grif just straight up leaves and like ? are they gonna see eachother again orrr ? what’s happening

the ending felt rushed and kinda weird - just vibes , i think i’m biased because i now realize that not a lot can beat the s13 ending , but even so , grif just kinda leaves and that’s the end 😭

i feel like we didn’t get a whole lot of conclusions for all the characters even tho that’s what was promised

overall i’m probably giving this a solid 5-6/10 , the season was overall very hit or miss in some aspects and scenes

ANWYAYS😭 don’t let my opinions take away from your experience with season 19! this is just how i felt about it after my first watchthrough and my opinions might/will change!

#red vs blue #rvb #rvb restoration #rvb season19 #rvb restoration spoilers

[endermagpieart]

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

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

@thatsthat24

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

[mothmage]

brienne and jaime are both just so gender. like you have one of the most beautiful knights in the realm, fair and golden-haired, who looks in the mirror and sees his twin sister, who has always done her bidding and centered his life around hers, who doesnt know who he is without her, and then you have the maid of tarth, the ugliest woman in westeros, who’s always been too big, too tall, too bulky, dreamed of being a knight while stifling dreams of being loved, being thought beautiful, who thinks her only good quality is her skill with a sword and even that has been an embarrassment to those around her, an oddity, something to laugh and jeer at. i just — it isnt even that they subvert stereotypes, its that they both allow each other to be nothing more or less than what they are, and everything that entails

#i read a fic once (cannot for the life of me remember the author) where jaime and cersei frequently switched places as kids #bc they looked so similar that not even tywin could tell the difference #and #yeah. #game of thrones #and like this is without even mentioning the honor thing they both have going on bc that makes me insane tbh #a song of ice and fire #braime #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth #jaime x brienne #mine #anyways u may ask why the Lesbian Arthur account keeps posting braime? this is why

[the-real-google]

I got really curious about something while catching up on notifs and now I have to know:

I don't remember everyone's handles so please reblog this so more people see it! Thanks :)

#I'm all caught up now! #well caught up on tumblr #I have other things I must do but I'll probably do them on Sunday? #I had to skip a whole bunch of picrew chains to be able to get through my notifs in a reasonable amount of time (it took a little over #an hour I think? I don't exactly remember when I started but I was talking to gabe during it and those messages were from an hour ago) #so sorry about that #feel free to tag me in more chains I promise I'll get to them next time #google #google posting #google is the best search engine #LSKJFLKDSJF OH RIGHT THE FICS I STILL NEED TO READ THE FICS AHH #hey google make a list for things I need to do on sunday