#??? I guess? its a cluster so

[deiapotheosis]

my favorite thing about preparing surprise gifts for people is imagining their reaction to it <3

i bet they'd be so ecstatic, so happy, they might even cry from joy, and be so grateful to Me and they'd love Me forever and consider Me the bestest friend they ever had!!

as we all know, I'm the best thing that's ever happened to these people and i love proving it to them!

[skeletalheartattack]

If you were a chulip character how would players kiss you?

find and present to me a working copy of Dragon Ball Z Budokai 1 for the PlayStation 2 and you can kiss my stupid ass

[nicepersondisorder]

at first i thought "exaggeration of talents and achievements" symptom of npd didn't apply to me, because i thought i usually dont lie about things that can be proven false if people wanted to look into it.

but then i started to notice things about my behavior: i do exaggerate and even lie, i just don't go overboard, so it still sounds believable.

it's not always an exaggeration about my talents and achievements, though i do that quite a lot as well, not going to lie. i use exaggeration and hyperboles to seem more cool and interesting, to show that things happening in my life are Unusual and an Adventure.

everytime it goes as planned and people are either impressed by my amazing feats or by extraordinary events that totally happened in my life (both of which are mostly made up)

[groenendaze]

apparently when signing up for confo shows it just? automatically signs you up? without giving you the option to look at your total first? 

[entropy-sea-system]

I think g3 movie 2 made Toralei my fave maybe because it shows her mental health issues a bit and also g3 show started showing how her behaviour was linked to issues as well and I relate to that a lot as someone w personality disorders

[captainchokchok]

Hate how damn often I get headaches wtffffffff

[imagoodone-iswear]

3 / 4

4 / 4

6 / 7

6 / 7

12 / 15

The Anti-Social Personality Disorder Checklist

This is a checklist to help one understand Anti-Social Personality Disorder. One may use it to self-diagnose or as a worksheet to present to a doctor or therapist  or other medical professional and better communicate symptoms they are experiencing. All information is taken from the DSM-5.

Section I Must check TWO or more of the following:

I maintain my self-esteem (and often define myself) from personal gain, power, or pleasure.

My goals are often self-oriented, and I have difficulty considering how the consequences affect others.

I have difficulty understanding or relating to the ideas, feelings, or behaviors of others. (low empathy)

I have difficulty maintaining close relationships unless I am in a dominant position.

__ / 4

Section II Must check TWO or more of the following:

I have cognition problems and difficulty perceiving myself, other people, and events. 

I have affectivity problems and difficulty controlling the range and intensity of my emotional responses.

I have problems with interpersonal functioning and being aware of my own actions and feelings.

I have difficulty controlling my impulses.

__ / 4

Section III Must check SIX or more of the following:

I often try to make myself more influential over people and situations. I like to be in control.

I am often unable to understand how my actions or words can harm others.

I find I can be a dishonest person, either in how I present myself to others, or I’ll twist the truth of stories I tell.

I experience persistent or frequent feelings of anger or irritability. 

I often find myself in dangerous, risky, and potentially self-damaging activities without regard for the consequences.

I am impulsive and often act on things without thinking or planning.

I often fail to take care of responsibilities and keep promises.

__ / 7

Section IV Must check THREE or more of the following:

I fail to conform to social norms and rarely do what is expected of me.

I compulsively lie when it benefits me.

I find it difficult to make plans for the future.

I have difficulty maintaining feelings of anger or irritability. 

I am rarely concerned for my own safety or well-being.

I am often unable to sustain consistent work behavior or honor financial obligations.

I don’t often feel regret, and I am often unable to feel remorse when I have wronged someone.

__ / 7

Section V Must check ALL of the following:

My symptoms impair my personality and social functioning

My symptoms are consistent across a broad range of personal and social situations.

My symptoms have lasted a while and started in early adolescence, and some traits have been persistent since childhood.

My symptoms are not caused by medication, drug use, or another medical condition.

My symptoms are persistent and not triggering by a symptom from another mental disorder.

At this point, if you have checked the minimum, you may qualify for a diagnosis of anti-social personality disorder. The next section is a compiled list of symptoms, behaviors, thought patterns, etc. often found in ASPD patients. I have consulted with ASPD patients for this information.

If you did NOT meet the minimum but relate to many of the symptoms listed, check out conduct disorders. If you feel you related to some of the symptoms, but feel many of your symptoms weren’t listed, try anxiety disorders, neurodevelopmental disorders, and depressive disorders. If you cleared Sections II and V but still did not meet the minimum, look into other personality disorders.

Section VI Common symptoms and behaviors associated (not required for diagnosis):

I often don’t feel anxious, even in situations where I should feel anxious.

Some of my behaviors are a means of self-preservation.

I have gotten in trouble with the law on a few occasions. 

I have difficulty reading social cues.

I find I am often unable to finish tasks.

I often view people in the style of an hierarchy. 

I believe everyone is only really out for themselves.

I am incredibly opinionated.

I experience dysphoria, in which I feel my body is not my own.

I often feel very tense and restless.

I am unable to tolerate boredom.

I am very often depressed.

I define myself by my accomplishments and gains.

I have considered or attempted suicide.

I find I rarely get stressed out, even in incredibly stressful situations.

__ / 15

[kawaiianimeredhead]

My roommate and I started working on these sensory mats for her classroom and it's been so fun!

[coridallasmultipass]

.

[staticraichu]

I feel like the main reason for that kinda reaction is that for almost everyone outside of that bubble (including myself), it/its is referring to non-human or more broadly non-sentient things or intangible concepts, not intelligent living beings. Like specifically that is the entire point of why it/its exists separately from they/them.

Broadly speaking, it/its is used to imply the object that is being talked about is not thinking, not feeling, and/or not capable of taking part within human social structures.

With that in mind it's easy to see why it is deemed offensive to call a person that, it's essentially dehumanizing the person with the implication that the person referred to should not be treated as part of society or sometimes that the person wouldn't even be deserving of empathy. It/Its is seen as dehumanizing because that's pretty much exactly what it's used for even in its normal use.

The reason it is gender neutral is not really because it is intentionally defined to be, but more emergent from its properties.

They/them is meant to refer people without specifying gender, either because it's not important not known or it simply cannot be specified like in a group of multiple people. Meanwhile, it/its refers to objects and things where because they exist outside of the social framework that constructed it the concept of gender isn't applicable in the first place.

It might be often talked about of as being a "genderless" or gender-neutral pronoun but that can't really be the case looking at how it's primarily used to address a person of unknown gender (where the information is missing) or a group of people (where gender doesn't apply).

So in that sense, they/them isn't really misgendering because it's simply not addressing the topic of gender entirely.

I think that's where the issue fundamentally lies. There's a gap in understanding of what it/its pronouns mean between the people who understand it the way I outlined above and the people who ask to be referred to with those pronouns.

And that issue is amplified because pronouns are only really used when referring to someone or something in the third person like when talking about to someone else and if that person doesn't understand it the exact same way they'll just think you're being offensive. Even with the best intentions the way it plays out in practice, anyone asking to be referred to with it/it's pronouns is really just making anyone who is talking about them and respect their wish look like a total jerk in front of others.

You spend like 7 paragraphs complaining about how annoying it is that people don't get when someone wants to be referred to with it/its pronouns and you illustrated that point really well but the actually important thing is being left out. You need to help people like myself, who interpret it/its the way outlined above, understand the perspective of the people asking to be referred to as such because when only knowing it that way it really seems nonsensical.

It's pretty clear there's a gap in understanding but I'd really like to know where that gap exactly is.

So on that note, what's the idea behind using it/its pronouns despite of (or because of?) it's connotations? What do you want to communicate with these that can't be done with a different one?

non-it/its users need to get their shit together fr

[reidmania]

hi i saw you take requests… could you write about established relationship reid and reader fluff for like a party or gathering where she sneaks behind his back and puts hands over his eyes whispering “guess who?” and like really lovey dovey?? please

guess who | s.reid

summary; after spencer was away for a few days, you get to see him again when he asks you to come to a afterwork gathering at rossi’s.

warnings; fem reader, literally none?? pure fluff, establishment relationships

an; im so sorry this took so long!!

The room hums with the gentle murmur of conversation, laughter threading its way between clusters of people. Soft lighting casts a golden glow over everything, making the gathering feel intimate, warm despite the autumn chill outside. You drift through the space, greeting old friends and acquaintances, your eyes always searching for one person: Spencer.

He’s on the other side of the room, deep in conversation as usual, the serious expression you’ve come to adore furrowing his brow. He’s talking animatedly with some colleagues, but your mind isn’t on what he’s saying. Your lips curl into a smile as you think of a playful idea, something to surprise him. The excitement of seeing him after the long week bubbles up inside you, making your heart flutter.

You weave through the room with practiced ease, avoiding spilling anyone’s drink as you maneuver behind him. The laughter around you fades into the background. You’re close enough now to smell the familiar scent of him—clean, a hint of his cologne, and something uniquely Spencer.

Your fingers twitch, and without a second thought, you gently place your hands over his eyes. He stiffens for the briefest second before your voice reaches his ears. “Guess who?”

The words are soft, whispered just beside his ear, playful but tender. You feel his body relax beneath your touch, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips even though you can’t see it. You know him too well, the way his shoulders lose their tension when he’s with you, how he tilts his head slightly, leaning into your presence.

“Hmm…” His voice is a low, thoughtful hum. “Well, considering the overwhelming amount of literature and research on tactile memory and voice recognition, I’d say my chances of guessing correctly are quite high.” He pauses dramatically, and you can practically hear the smirk in his tone. “But I’d rather play along. Is it…Einstein?”

You laugh softly, pulling your hands away but keeping close, standing right behind him as he turns to face you. There’s a spark of something mischievous in his hazel eyes, but it quickly melts into something much softer, something meant just for you. His lips quirk up, that smile you’ve always adored.

“Nope. Not even close,” you tease, sliding your hands down to rest lightly on his arms.

His grin widens as he looks down at you, tilting his head as though he’s examining you for the first time. “Well, I guess I’m terrible at this game.”

You roll your eyes, tugging him a little closer by the sleeves of his shirt. “You knew it was me the whole time.”

He chuckles, a sound that vibrates through his chest and warms you from the inside out. “Maybe,” he concedes, his hands gently settling on your waist. His touch is light, casual in the way of someone completely comfortable with you, and yet there’s always a certain reverence in how he holds you, like he’s afraid you might slip away if he doesn’t keep his grip just right.

You sway slightly, the distant sound of music filtering through the room. It’s not the kind of party where people dance, but with Spencer, you can turn any moment into something more, something that belongs only to the two of you. You smile up at him, enjoying the way his eyes linger on your face, like you’re the only person in the world who matters right now.

“So,” he says, his voice soft but tinged with amusement, “having fun sneaking up on me?”

You shrug playfully. “It’s one of my favorite pastimes. I have to keep you on your toes, Dr. Reid.”

His smile softens into something more affectionate. “You’re the only one who could.”

For a moment, the world around you seems to fade. It’s just the two of you, standing in the middle of a crowded room, but completely absorbed in your own little bubble. The laughter and chatter around you are nothing more than a distant hum, the soft light casting a gentle glow over the sharp lines of his face, softening his features in the way that makes your heart skip a beat.

You lean into him, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer in a quiet, protective gesture. The scent of him, the feel of him, it’s all so familiar, so comforting.

“I missed you this week,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the ambient noise.

He tightens his hold just slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I missed you too. It’s always too long, even when it’s only a few days.”

You close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the moment. There’s something about being with Spencer that always makes you feel like everything else fades away. The worries, the stress, the noise of the outside world—it all disappears when you’re here, in his arms, wrapped up in the quiet certainty that he’s yours and you’re his.

He shifts slightly, leaning back to look down at you. “I was actually thinking about sneaking up on you,” he says, his voice playful, “but I’m not sure I could pull it off as well as you.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t think you have it in you, Spencer. You’re too…earnest.”

“Too earnest?” He raises an eyebrow, pretending to be offended.

You nod, your smile widening. “Yes. You’re terrible at sneaking. You’d give yourself away in two seconds.”

He hums thoughtfully. “I’m not sure that’s true. But I think I’ll leave the sneaking to you, then.”

You grin, leaning up on your toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Good choice.”

He smiles down at you, that gentle, loving expression that never fails to make your heart melt. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says quietly, his voice sincere in the way only Spencer can manage.

“Me too,” you reply softly, feeling the weight of the words settle between you.

And in that moment, with his arms wrapped around you and the world spinning on outside, you realize just how deeply you’ve fallen for him.

[proxentauri]

when i saw @n0rtist's ability forms i had to do reuniclus.....i hope it's not too late to be featured in the video! :0 we may have crossed from ability form into actual alternate form territory (see the original colours below the cut to see how crazy different they could have been)

as someone in evo microbio this was insane amounts of fun to do and i was able to pull inspo from places i'd never think to reference in my regular art!

itemized essay explaining the science and my design choices in more detail below the cut:

Ability Form 1: Overcoat

The science

Based on bacterial biofilm, which is basically when a bunch of bacteria get together in the same spot and start excreting this sticky slime stuff that structurally keeps the bacteria together (and also act as a medium for sharing useful resources between the bacteria, like enzymes, nutrients, etc.).

The design

The strings connecting the bacteria is based on what the slime stuff looks like on a microscopic level, specifically in electron micrographs like this one

The violet colour of the (rod) bacteria in the biofilm is a reference to Gram staining, which is a type of bacterial stain used to classify bacteria into two groups: bacteria that contain peptidoglycan in their cell walls (which stain violet) and bacteria that don't (these stain pink). Peptidoglycan is this pretty chonky polymer compound that's used to strengthen bacterial cell walls, so I thought it fit the role of Overcoat (which protects your Pokémon from things like weather)

Ability Form 2: Magic Guard

The science

Based on the myelin sheath, which are these segments of tube-like insulation that surrounds your neurons (see picture here). Mostly people talk about how it makes your neural signals propagate faster, which is true, but this ability form was more of a reference to its general protective role; it physically and electrically insulates your neurons. (Surprisingly I could not find a super good primary source for myelin providing physical protection, so don't cite me on that, but given it's literally a physical barrier this seems like a pretty safe assumption.)

The design

The entire body is based on a pseudounipolar neuron, which just means it only has one part extend out of the main body but shortly after it splits into two long parts (axons). I could have made it a bipolar neuron I guess (two parts extend out of the main body), but having a neck made it look a little closer to the base form's body

I wanted to give it dendrite fingers but it looked too creepy. I'm not sure if the three long fingers I gave it in the final design made it less creepy.

Since Overcoat and Magic Guard are both shield-type abilities, they're drawn as more closely related on the the phylogenetic tree (white thing in the center).

Ability Form 3: Regenerator

The science

This one is the most hype imo. In 2015 Dr. Will Ratcliff did this pretty sick experiment about the evolution of multicellularity (since at some point a long time ago life was single-celled) where he kept propagating the same single-celled yeast for a mega long time, and eventually the yeast evolves a multi-cellular "snowflake" form where after undergoing mitosis, the resulting daughter cells don't split, but stay attached, resulting in the yeast forming these clusters that create these cute little branches. I don't know where I was going with this. Oh right, the branching out reminded me a lot of regenerating limbs, so that was the inspiration for this one.

Anyway this is like one of my favourite experiments ever, there's some pretty good news articles out there about if you want to learn more about it!

The design

The segments are yeast cells, and the balls within are the nuclei.

The colour scheme was based on this fluorescent microscopy photo of the snowflake yeast. Originally I had the nuclei be bright orange in reference to this other microscopy picture but I thought the colour scheme was deviating too much from the base form for an ability form lol.

Speaking of here's the original unhinged colour drafts:

if i did commit to the full alternate form i think the biofilm one is poison, myelin one is fighting, yeast one is uhh...dude idek, i mean the fluorescent microscopy vibe is pretty strong so maybe electric lol? it's giving ghost vibe too though

i was originally planning on citing stuff but it's a tumblr post and I've already linked Ratcliff's work and i want to go to bed lol. If any of the science is wrong just call me out i'll fix it. otherwise, i hope someone out there appreciates the science references !! it's 8am good Night

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt 17

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

A/N: and were back. were so back after getting this chapter deleted. trigger warning for this chapter as it contains blood, car accidents.

About You Series

2014, Circuit de Monaco

From this point of view, one could overlook Monaco as a whole. There was the sea that is fleeted with yachts, specifically docked there to watch the Grand Prix this weekend. Then, the clustered hills filled with trees and apartments, the composite of it can be eye-catching or an eyesore in Y/N’s opinion. And of course, she simply can’t miss how the balcony has the perfect view of the start of the Monaco Grand Prix. She can hear and see the Formula 2 cars dash around in their practice sessions.

“What do you think?” Sebastian walked in with a smile.

“This is just gorgeous. I mean I thought that I have seen amazing Monaco apartments when McLaren or when Red Bull booked us but this…”

Y/N lets out a loud ‘woah’ to conclude her statement.

It was no wonder that this apartment seems empty and unoccupied. If Y/N has to guess then the price for this place is skyrocketing. This was a dream location for anyone who wanted to stay in Monaco.

“So why did you call me here?” Y/N asked. The Red Bull driver has texted the location and she is still confused to Seb’s interest in this place. It was gorgeous but she knew how Sebastian explained several times that he was not one for the Monaco lifestyle.

“I bought it-”

She was mildly surprised with that. Only mildly because Red Bull has clearly lined up Sebastian’s pockets well especially after winning continuously for several years. Even today, Y/N pretty sure that despite the lack of win streak, Sebastian is still getting paid generously.

“-and I want you to have keys for it”

“I must have misheard that Sebastian” Y/N stated.

A key was laid out in her palm. It has a keychain of the checkered flag with an imprint of Y/N’s name as well as the date today. It contained two keys which has been poorly labelled with Sebastian’s handwriting on a plaster tape. One was scribbled as Mon, an acronym for Monaco while the other has Mar.

Maybe there was too much car fumes or petrol in Sebastian’s head which is why he is going crazy for giving Y/N this apartment so she tries to hand back the key. He just shakes his head in disagreement.

“This place is yours as much as its mine” Sebastian insisted “I knew you love Monaco and I want you to have a place to go whenever you feel like staying here.”

It wouldn’t be that bad to have a place to go to here in Monaco. However, there was this certain guilt that this was too much and she doesn’t think that she deserves this. It was something that Sebastian caught on, he could read her so well.

“I thought of you that’s why I bought it. You love the sea, you love the races, and bonus points because you have Nico and Lewis as neighbours”

The last statement elicited a laugh from the two of them. Sebastian wanted to convince her because this was a literal vision in his head that he wanted a safe space for Y/N to go home to. England and Australia may be her home town but it doesn’t give her the privacy that she needs. Monaco, on the other hand, is quieter and more peaceful despite the extravagance.

“Okay but I’m still going to text you when I’m going to go here”Y/N settled.

“Perfect”

“Now what is Mar?” Y/N’s curiosity got the best of her “And please tell me that its not a key to a boat in the Marina”

“Mar is Maranello”Sebastian clarifies.

It was time to move to the second surprise that he has for Y/N. He had been so excited to tell her about this but he had to keep it down until everything was settled and signed. Last week, he signed the contract.

The girl was confused. It didn’t make any sense to why Sebastian would be in Maranello when the Red Bull headquarters is in Brackley. Only Ferrari resides in Maranello, why would Sebastian be there?

“Sebastian Vettel, you are Ferrari’s new driver?”

There were talks that Ferrari would change their driver lineup but she haven’t heard Sebastian’s name being thrown in the hat. She couldn’t contain the excitement that she was feeling and leaned into hug Sebastian. Driving for Ferrari is a milestone for Sebastian especially when he used to idolize Michael when he drove for the red team.

“When are you announcing this? Who else knows?” Y/N quizzes.

“No one yet”Sebastian grins “I wanted you to be the first one out of the signing team to know”

This was an exciting news and hopefully one of the first of the many happy memories shared in this Monaco apartment. Things are finally turning for the better.

2014, Red Bull Ring

In a very media-centered event, it surprises a lot of people that there are places in the Grand Prix where any forms of press and media is not allowed. Of course, this varies depending on whose home turf they are racing on. Mercedes and McLaren definitely have bigger private spaces in Silverstone, just like how Red Bull have their own private lounge reserved for their private guest.

Jenson sticks out like a sore thumb with his McLaren merchandise. He seems to stick out even more with the way that he stands there and just gazing at the view in front of him. Sebastian, Y/N, and the little baby Margarette—if Jenson didn’t know any better then he would have guessed that they are an actual family. He was lucky that the media weren’t there to catch his reactions because they could catch Jenson spilling the truth about his feelings.

“Jenson is that you?” a voice broke Jenson out of his reverie. His head turned to see Hanna with a plate of fries.

“Hello Hanna, nice to see you around”Jenson politely greeted.

He honestly couldn’t fathom why Sebastian has invited her over. He gets it if Sebastian wanted to see the kid but to add this woman that has been the cause of pain of Y/N, Jenson could not help but scoff. His emotions does not seem to be hidden well as Hanna shifted nervously.

“I know you are probably thinking that I don’t deserve to be here and I think that too”Hanna explained “But Y/N invited me to take Marga because Seb is missing her”

“Y/N?”

The woman chuckles, “Yeah, I can’t believe it as well. She has been nothing but nice to me. I know that she have every right to hate me but she has been a supporting pillar and someone really wonderful to Marga”

They glanced back to Y/N, who was playing with the baby. She was gently rocking the baby and it giggles as it tries to reach her hair. Sebastian, on the other hand, was sat next to her with a loving gaze on the two of them.

Jenson couldn’t feel but sigh and ask if it was him in Sebastian’s place then would Y/N be as happy as that?

There were no need for words but Hanna have realized from the small interactions how Jenson is deeply inlove with Y/N. It felt like a déjà vu because that was the way she used to look at Sebastian. Her actions to force things to happen has ruined a lot of things for Sebastian and she was glad that things are still repairable.

“I know that look” Hanna pointed out “You love her”

It was something that Jenson cannot rebut. He had always thought that he was good at hiding things especially with his flirty attitude and his chill self. This was the first time he was seen for what he feels.

“That obvious huh?” Jenson nervously replied.

He had tried his luck once upon a time and he ended up in the friendzone. He took the friendship if that is all that she could offer just so he could keep her in his orbit. There is a part of him that knows that no matter how many girls he meet, it was always Y/N who occupies his heart. Confessing is not an option given how complicated things are and how telling will only do more harm than good.

“We were in the same position a year ago” Hanna understands Jenson “All I could tell you that it is best to move on so it won’t hurt you anymore”

A year ago, Hanna would have not suggested that. She would have urged Jenson to confess so he can end up with Y/N and Sebastian could end up as her’s. The past few months have been a huge period of moving on for Hanna. Maybe it’s the birth of her child that allowed her to refocus the unreciprocated love to the child. She also understood how much Sebastian and Y/N means to each other, she wouldn’t do anything more to damage them.

“That’s easy to say but so hard to do”Jenson mutters.

Hanna’s hands patted Jenson’s shoulders. It was a comforting thought that someone gets how he is feeling and maybe Hanna can serve his inspiration that maybe he could move on from this unrequited love.

“Everything will be alright Jenson”

2014, Silverstone Grand Prix

Jenson Button and Assistant Webber involved in a freak accident.

Jenson Button was going home after a celebration of Lewis Hamilton’s win in the recent Silverstone Grand Prix when he and assistant, Y/N Webber collided with a ten wheeler truck. The driver of ten wheeler truck has been drunk and lost control of the car. It was of sheer miracle that Jenson was not driving the car during the time of the accident because he was at the backseat drunk and sleepy. Due to that Jenson is able walk away from the accident with just some bruises and ready for the next Grand Prix. Unfortunately, Y/N who is behind the steering wheel received more dangerous injuries. Suffering from a head trauma and crippling injuries, Y/N was rushed to the hospital where she is placed in Intensive Care Unit.

The bright light and the white aesthetics of the hospital was a stark contrast to the blood that stained Jenson’s hands. His hands were shaking knowing that this blood was not his but from the girl who is currently fighting for her life. Tears were stinging his already bloodshot eyes as he watched the clock tick painfully slow.

Its already been a hour since Y/N was rushed inside. The doors of the operating room remained close and Jenson doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Scrambling footsteps screeched in Jenson’s hallway. He saw his fellow drivers and Mark. All of them equally frazzled with the worry and fear being the top ones to show.

“What happened?” Mark was quick to ask.

Honestly, Jenson was not much of a help. He was lying down and he just remembered how Y/N was reminding him that he has to get up early to apologize to a Ronnie in the morning. He was too dizzy after having too many tequilas and then a bright light followed by a loud crunch.

“Holy shit, is that your blood?”Lewis noticed “Man its all over you”

“It’s Y/N” Jenson muttered. He remembered how his hands and his clothes were stained when he tried to pull her out of the wreckage.

The reality of the whole situation sinks in. Mark, was supported by Nico and Lewis, as he falls down on his knees. Sebastian was pacing back and forth while Jules seems to be praying. They were all a mess as they await updates about the girl. As Formula 1 drivers, they should have been used to accidents and collisions because it was a risk that comes with their work. It hits a little different when it happens to someone who is not a driver and someone very dear to them.

It took another 40 minutes before a doctor appeared in front of them.

“How is my sister?” “Is she doing okay?” “What happened to her”

The flurry of questions was something that cannot be stopped. The doctor’s expression was not giving away anything if the operation turned out positive or negative.

“She is stable now” the Doctor explained “We stitched up the head wound and hopefully she will be awake in a few hours”

A sigh of relief erupted out of every single one of them. They were just so relieved that she survived the whole crash.

“But there is something that you must know about her..”

2014, Hockenheimring

“Seb, you have to focus” Y/N reminded him “This is your home race that we are talking about”

“I know but quali don’t start in about…” Sebastian knows he has 10 more minutes before it starts but he grins “20 minutes”

The grainy camera could showcase Y/N sitting on her bed. The balcony must have been open hence the sunlight gracing her face and shining light to the newfound hollowness in her face. Her busted lips and the stitches were a constant reminder of the tragedy that she survived.

With all those imperfections, Sebastian continues to stare at her lovingly across the screen. His thoughts remain the same that Y/N is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

“Sebastian, don’t make me call Christian”Y/N warned.

The German driver just raises his hand in surrender, “I’m just checking in you sunshine and I really miss you more than ever today”

It would have been really nice if she was here during his home race. Maybe he would have taken her for a drive to his parents’ house or they can get to explore some German countryside just like when they were younger.

“I’ll be there and recover soon”

“And I’ll be waiting. You take your time” Sebastian assures.

The door creaks open and Y/N could be seen turning sideways. She pans her camera to show Sebastian the visitor.

“Hey Mark!” Sebastian greeted.

Honestly, the retirement of Mark was a perfect timing. Sebastian couldn’t always take care of Y/N so Mark was placed in charge during race weekend. The Monaco apartment was big enough to have guests to stay over so Mark is currently camping at one of the guest room.

“Seb aren’t you supposed to be in your car right now?”Mark made a tsk tsk sound.

“I am but I wanted to talk to my best girl here” Sebastian reasoned out.

Y/N couldn’t hide the flush of red in her cheeks, “now you go and race! I love you!”

“I love you more sunshine”Sebastian replied

2014, Hungaroring

“That’s a terrible finish for Sebastian”

Mark’s comment from earlier has been ringing in her ears for the past few hours. Sebastian has started from P2 and ended up in P8 so Mark’s statement was not shocking. She has also seen the articles and the people in social media talking about Sebastian. Usually, people can blame the car or the strategy but today, Daniel won from P4. People are pointing fingers that Sebastian is past his prime.

She was fidgeting with her necklace again. She wonders if maybe her condition is a contributing factorin the recent poor performance of Sebastian.

Of course, Sebastian didn’t blame her for anything. He has always been supportive, kind, and lovely throughout this recovery journey. However, she feels like she is burdening Sebastian and distracting him from his true passion.

Speaking of the devil, the face of Sebastian shows up in her screen. Her hands hesitated to pick it up but she eventually pressed the green button.

“Hey! I have been so caught up with the meeting and I was only able to call now” Sebastian’s voice was cheery. If Y/N didn’t watch the race then she would have thought that he won with that smile on his face “Are you okay sunshine?”

“Yeah, tell me about your day”

Y/N is definitely lying but she no longer wanted to burden Sebastian. She continues to listen on with a forced smile on herself as she tries to fight the plaguing thoughts in her head.

2014, Autodromo Nazionale Monza

Seb: I know you dont like me much but we have to talk. Call me when you get this.

Mark: Hey mate. I wanted to talk to you about Y/N. Mark: Ring me up when you are available.

The notifications stared in front of Jenson for a good five minutes. It wasn't a difficult decision to ring up Mark because a) its about Y/N and b) Sebastian isn't someone he adores a lot. Although Jenson was hoping that Mark wouldn't pick up since its the late hours of the night.

"Jenson, its been a while"

Indeed it has been. Jenson can count how it had been almost 5 weeks since that accident. Heck,he could even count the hours and minutes that have passed if asked about. It was something on his mind 24/7 slowly eating him alive.

"Mark,how are you doing? How is she?"Jenson asked immediately.

"She is not doing well"Mark admits.

"But I thought everything is alright?"Jenson was confused.

He may or may not have been avoiding Y/N out of the eating guilt. However,he have heard from Nico that she was doing well. As far as he knows, she is staying with Mark in the apartment in Monaco.

"Her physical inabilities is taking a toll on her mental well-being"Mark explained "But I think she has been taking it too hard on herself."

Mark continued to talk about she has been pushing herself to the limits and wanted to expedite the whole process of getting back on her feet. He also mentioned how Y/N is clouded with guilt that she is a huge problem and a burden for everyone.

"But she isn't a problem or a burden"Jenson interjected.

"We know but she doesn't believe me" Mark sighs.

"What are we going to do about it?"

There was nothing that he wouldn't do for Y/N. Even if guilt was eating him up, he would have been an invisible figure being there for her. He would do whatever it takes just to bring back the old happy her.

"We are going to the next Grand Prix. Sebastian is making arrangements because he thinks maybe Y/N will feel better if she is surrounded by friends and the family she knows."

The Singapore Grand Prix was two weeks from now. Jenson immediately made a mental note for this one. Maybe he will busy himself with some media team bullshit or maybe he will have to arrive late for the free practice.

"I'm calling to let you know so you won't run away Jenson" Mark added "I know that you blame yourself for what happened but please, she misses you"

"You know me too well Mark"

"We're arranging dinner, promise you'll be there?" Mark continued to push.

"Anything for her"

2014, Marina Bay Street Circuit

When the news broke out about Y/N returning for Singapore, almost every driver arrived early to Singapore so they could attend the dinner arranged by Mark. Y/N was a beloved figure in the grid and even if she was not as close to everyone in a Nico, Lewis, Jules, or Jenson level—they all greatly miss her.

It was a good thing that Mark booked this restaurant for the night as people would have been really curious why the drivers gathered in one place.

Mark received a message from Sebastian that they were all there. He gently pushed the wheelchair to the elevator and texted him back that they will be there in a minute or two.

"Are you ready?" Mark wondered. "Its nice to get out of Monaco"

Y/N hummed in agreement. The glass elevator has a view of the whole Singapore nightlife. She could see the fireworks up in the sky to celebrate the upcoming weekend and the busy streets. It brings her a small smile that this was just like the old times.

The minute that the elevator opened, Jenson was standing there in front of them. Mark watched as Jenson immediately hugged Y/N and they were immediately crying.

Mark knew that if there was anyone who took this harder than Y/N then it was Jenson. He thinks he haven't seen Jenson interact or message after Y/N was pronounced safe from disaster. He knows how Jenson have blamed himself and thinks he should have been the one driving behind the wheel so this would not happen.

It was a joy to see them together again.

"I'm really sorry if I couldn't be with you a lot"Jenson continued to apologize.

"There is no need for that Jense"

"You might have needed me and I left you by yourself. I felt so guilty by the whole accident that I thought that its better to leave you alone"Jenson explained.

The hug just got tighter. There was no need for Jenson to explain himself because Y/N already understood. Many people forget that the two of them have been involved in the accident. Y/N's damage was physically present but Jenson's wound was something invisible to the naked eye.

"It's alright Jenson, were alright"Y/N assured.

It wss a good thing that the two met here rather than inside the restaurant. They wouldn't want the tears to get in the way of reconnecting and meeting with other friends.

"Let's get inside"Jenson wipes his tears "Everyone is waiting for you"

Before Jenson could open the door, Y/N shouted to wait.

"Mark,can you help me up?"Y/N asked.

Mark looked at her unsure. They have been through this several times in the Monaco apartment. Even if she tried to stand up,she normally can't walk because of the pain let alone stand for so long.

"Are you sure this is a good decision?"Mark was trying to find reason.

"I don't want them to see me in a wheelchair"Y/N admitted.

Mark gently helped Y/N up with Jenson assisting her as well. It was a team effort to keep her standing up but she is bearing most of its weight because of the excruciating pain that is hitting her.

The doors were gently pushed open and the drivers' attention turned to the newcomers of the restaurant. It made Sebastian shocked to see her standing there and trying her best to walk. He immediately went to assist her but he stops on his track.

"You stay there"Y/N instructed when Sebastian was three steps away "I'll do my best to get there"

It was quite painful for Y/N to take the first step and loosen her grip to her human crutches. Her teeth grinded each other as she tries to hide the pain away. She focused her attention to the hand of Sebastian reaching out for her.

"You can do it Y/N" Jules cheered on.

"Just careful steps"Sebastian encouraged.

The whole room seems to stand still with awaited breath as she takes another step towards Sebastian. It was like seeing a miracle for them and they felt speechless to see such feat. Some of them couldn't help but have tears in their eyes with how emotional this moment is.

"You've got this,one more"

Pain was shooting up but Y/N did her best to take another one. Her hands gripped Sebastian outreached hand before she could fall. Sebastian, gently held her close.

"You did it. You did it sunshine"Sebastian whispered.

The feeling of tears were welling up in her eyes. She doesm't know if this was because of the pain or maybe the longing that she felt for Sebastian. It didn't help when she looked at Sebastian and found his eyes tearing up as well.

There was a moment of comfort and peace that they both have been lacking the past few weeks. Everything was okay again now that they are back in each other's arms.

2014, Suzuka Circuit

Even if Y/N walked a few steps in Singapore,she was still advised to use the wheelchair. Her physical therapist have been trying to up her routines so she could walk again. For now she was stuck in a wheelchair and Sebastian don't mind pushing for her.

But today, Sebastian is quite busy so Jules have to sub for him.

"The media is going crazy with the news" Y/N observed. Today was the day that Sebastian was announced to replace Fernando Alonso and will start driving for Scuderia Ferrari. The media have been interviewing Sebastian as early as 8 in the morning and now its nearly lunchtime.

"I know, people say Sebastian may be the key to getting the championship back to Ferrari"Jules said.

"That puts a lot of pressure in Seb then"

"I'm sure he can handle it"Jules assured.

Jules pushed Y/N to the track. Their grid walks were something that Y/N have terribly missed. It was a good thing that its a bit cloudy so Jules wouldn't have to bring an umbrella for them.

"Speaking of Ferrari.."Jules opened up "I think I have to let you know that I may be replacing Kimi in 2016"

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. She felt like she was in a deja vu moment when Sebastian first told her about the Ferrari contract.

"Ohmygod that sounds amazing Jules!"Y/N beamed.

Jules seems to be a little bit unsure of himself judging by the nervous smile that graced his face.

"Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself but you know I'm already thinking about it. Would the people cheer for me when I announce that I signed to Ferrari"Jules glanced at the Tifosi crowd chanting Sebastian's name.

Y/N knows how sometimes driver can doubt their ability. She believed that they are one of the best drivers in the world because it isn't easy to be a Formula 1 driver. The skills,the reaction time, and even their quick thinking is an asset that not many people have. They often downplay themselves when they felt like they are performing poorly.

"You have got to be confident Jules. I'm sure the Tifosis would love to have you in their team"Y/N comforts "You just have a shitbox that can't compete right now but Ferrari would give you a beautiful machinery and I swear you will be up on the podium"

It was a beautiful picture in Jules' head. Any kid would have dreamed of driving for Ferrari but winning with Ferrari is a different kind of euphoria. He glanced at her and he hoped that he could see her cheering for him someday when he is at the top of the podium.

"Thank you little sister"Jules said "I'll make you proud someday"

"You already make me so proud Jules"

READ: Statement regarding Jules Bianchi crash.

[galacticnova3]

Since she has now flown off I am obligated to post the order of potato fairy extra large that I looked after for several days. Aka a gloriously chumby Polyphemus moth— the second one I’ve seen alive in over a decade— that decided to hang around our porch for most of its adult life. I saw the first live one on the same day, but he flew away when I tried to get close. But still, that’s a great sign that their population in my area is finally starting to recover! Anyways, here’s the wonderful big little creacher where I found her, which should probably make it clear as to why I moved her. Ants don’t mess around and I wasn’t gonna just leave her inches away from danger.

I was pretty glad I did, as even after her wings were fully dried and extended and everything she couldn’t actually take off. See: her first “flight”.

Big fan of the loud impact PLAP sound, really added to the already very good demonstration of gravity. Worry not, she was totally fine afterwards. Here she is that night and the day after! Very cute and fuzzy, 1000/10.

The next day I thought she had flown off, but then the day after that she was back on the porch! I could tell she was the same one because of her damaged antenna. She started laying eggs on the house and I realized that wasn’t going to be good for the caterpillars that might hatch, since it was a relatively long distance to any host plants even without including the vertical climb to reach branches of leaves. Since she clearly felt safe where she was, and I was also worried about ants and birds and possible insecticides, I ended up making a little “baby box” for her out of a thoroughly rinsed plastic container that initially held salted honey-roasted peanuts. I gave her a stick to hold on to which also gave her a route to climb out of the box if she wished, and provided various fresh oak leaves to lay her eggs on. Figured it would be a good setup because I could easily move it to a safe place once she was done, and keep an eye on the eggs until they hatched. I might even try to raise a few caterpillars if the eggs are fertile. However, during the process of me setting that whole deal up, she decided I looked like a good egg laying spot.

You can see the “glue” that sticks the eggs to surfaces! It was cool to see up close: she’d lay an egg, wait for it to dry, and then lay the next right by it. She ended up sticking four on me before I was able to gently nudge her to the egg laying box. The stick was eventually deemed an acceptable substitute, and over night she… made an egg stalactite of sorts on it? Very weird, I think, I dunno; most of what I read online said their eggs would be laid in spread out clusters of two to three on suitable host plants. I know it wasn’t because she couldn’t get out, as when I went to check on her she had already made her way to the top of the stick and was hanging off of it outside the box. I didn’t think to take a picture of that as I needed to drive to college, but source: dude trust me. Here’s a picture of the egg sculpture I took when I got home.

When I was done with that I went to move her off the porch where she had been staying safe for the last 5 or so days to the more wooded area of the yard, but she ended up flying off to the treetops on her own after I brought her into the open. I guess laying a bunch of eggs made her finally light enough to fly. Maybe she was feeling upset at me for not being able to pay child support and making her lay her eggs on a stick instead? Or she was just doing normal moth things or whatever. It was bittersweet to watch her go, but I’m glad she had the chance to soar the skies at least once before her time was up.

@onenicebugperday

[tsumuus]

meet cutes | my hero academia

a/n so random make ni sense and not proof read at all. i just love all these characters sm and think they need more appreciation

characters tenya iida, hanta sero, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari

masterlist

tenya iida

The bustling streets of Musutafu seemed to never quiet, especially during the evening rush hour. You hurried through the crowded sidewalks, clutching a stack of documents to your chest, trying to avoid any collisions. The sky had a gentle orange hue as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the city.

Just as you rounded the corner near a small, bustling cafe, a gust of wind swept through, snatching one of your papers and sending it fluttering into the air. You gasped, reaching out futilely as it soared higher.

Suddenly, a blur of blue and white darted past you. Tenya Iida, in his hero costume, appeared, deftly catching the paper mid-air. He landed gracefully, adjusting his glasses and holding the document out to you. The sunlight framed him perfectly, making his appearance even more striking. You accepted the paper, your fingers brushing his gloved hand.

With a warm smile, he nodded at you. “Always happy to assist,” he said, before dashing off again, leaving you standing there with a racing heart and a newfound admiration for the hero who had saved your day.

hanta sero

The neighborhood park was your favorite spot for a morning jog. The dew-kissed grass, the chirping of birds, and the occasional rustle of leaves created a tranquil atmosphere. As you rounded the trail's curve, you noticed a commotion near the large oak tree in the center.

Curiosity piqued, you jogged closer, only to see Sero Hanta struggling with a tangled kite. It was a bright red dragon, its tail hopelessly entwined in the branches. Sero, now a seasoned pro hero, was trying his best to free it using his tape quirk, but the kite remained stubbornly stuck.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound catching his attention. He glanced your way, sheepish but grinning. Without a word, you joined him, climbing onto a lower branch to help. The two of you worked in harmony, hands brushing occasionally, the shared effort bringing an unexpected sense of camaraderie.

Finally, with a triumphant tug, the kite was free. Sero’s laughter was infectious, and as you handed the kite back to the grateful child who owned it, he gave you a thumbs up. “Great teamwork,” he said, his smile brightening your morning.

eijiro kirishima

The gym was quieter than usual, the perfect setting for a late-night workout. You focused on your routine, pushing through the last set of weights when a loud crash echoed through the space. Startled, you looked over to see Eijiro Kirishima, now a well-known hero, sheepishly picking up a toppled barbell.

He caught your gaze and grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. The dim lighting highlighted the sharp angles of his face, and you couldn’t help but notice the genuine warmth in his eyes.

You walked over, offering a hand. Together, you righted the barbell, your fingers brushing against his. He chuckled, a deep, hearty sound that reverberated in the empty gym. “Guess I overestimated myself,” he admitted, his laughter contagious.

As you returned to your workout, you felt his gaze linger, a silent promise of future encounters. There was something undeniably endearing about his honest clumsiness, and you found yourself looking forward to the next time fate would bring you together.

denki kaminari

The arcade was buzzing with energy, neon lights reflecting off the polished floors and flashing screens. You weaved through clusters of gamers until you spotted Denki Kaminari, your former classmate and now a hero known for his electrifying abilities, focused intensely on a claw machine. His usual carefree grin was replaced with a determined frown as he tried to snag a plush.

You couldn’t resist joining in. Standing beside him, you both took turns maneuvering the claw. After a few failed attempts, your skillful finesse finally paid off—the claw gripped the plush snugly and dropped it into the prize chute. Denki’s eyes widened in amazement, his grin returning full force. “No way! You did it!”

He offered you the plush toy, a spark of excitement evident in his eyes as your hands briefly touched. As you walked out together, the arcade’s lights painting playful patterns on his face, Denki chattered enthusiastically about his favorite games and hero escapades. His infectious energy made the evening feel like a whirlwind of laughter and camaraderie, leaving you with a smile and a sense of eager anticipation for what could unfold between you.

[taintandviolent]

feed my Frankenstein ; Frankenkyle x reader

summary: stripper!reader decides to dress up like a zombie for Halloween, and when the girls bring Kyle to the strip club…. He makes the decision for himself that he’s going to be with his kind. w a r n i n g s: 5k words! stripper!reader, female reader, cunnilingus, rough sex, violence, mentions of blood, biting, graphic descriptions. kyle being a big, horny zombie who doesn't understand his strength. a/n: [🎃 part of lizzie's halloween fics! 🎃] probably some errors, whoops. I didn't want to label this as dead dove don't eat, but Kyle literally tries to eat reader, so be warned, I guess??? also my ending is very... cliff-hangery. don't come for me, this fic took on a life of its own very quickly. thank you for reading if you did!!! full fic & taglist under cut!↓ / ao3 link here! / ♪ recommended playlist here! ♪

You dab a stippling sponge against your neck, hiding an edge with a speckle of grey makeup. You’d put a lot of effort into your silly little zombie look - but it was Halloween after all, and hardly any of the other girls had dressed up. Sure, they’d started out in low-effort costumes of Dorothy Gale and Snow White, but as soon as those came off, they were just their normal selves again. You… not so much. You went the extra mile. You’d spent hours applying prosthetics on your limbs, and painting your flesh to mimic the rotting corpses seen in cult classic horror films. Specks of blood around your perfectly lined lips, uneven skin, stitches from your neck down the front of your body.

It wouldn’t be everyone’s cup of tea, you knew. Some of them would lose their boners at the sight. It was time for your first shift. The club was rowdy, you heard it from behind the door. You lean against it, gulp down the last of your water, and fluff your hair before spinning on your red, patent leather heels and pulling open the door.

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea, Madison…” Zoe confesses, nervously. She holds onto Kyle’s arm tightly, guiding him around a booth like an elderly man. He was already entranced by the vibrant lights that swept back and forth in shades of orange and green. It reminded him of his show. Colours….

“Oh, please.” With a roll of her eyes, Madison flips her blonde hair over her shoulder. “This is the best place to put a braindead man… look, they’re everywhere.”

Men cluster around the stage, watching hungrily as women take their clothes off, gyrating their hips close enough to their faces that they could reach out and take bites  out of their full asses. The bouncer in the corner makes sure that doesn’t happen, though.

Over the PA, a loud voice says: “Alright! Put your hands together for our resident nerdy girl, our very own reanimated sexpot…”

As though it was on hinges, Kyle’s head swings heavily to face the stage. H

“Look, he’s already fitting in.” Madison nips.

You prance forward, reaching for the pole in the centre of the stage. Men holler your name, the few regulars that came every night you were working. You’d earned yourself a reputation as the nerdy girl because of your penchant for dressing up on the themed nights. Your hips roll to the beat of the song, coming daringly close to the hands that hold dollar bills. When they don’t get the chance to slip them into your outfit, they flutter at your feet, decorating the stage. You undo the tie of your shirt, revealing white bikini with gratuitous blood spatter. You’d done that yourself.

You wrap one leg around the pole, latching onto it. As it spins, you reach behind your back, undoing the tie of your top. Your breasts fall free, nipples hardening in the air conditioning. You hold the bra out proudly, smiling as the hoots and cheers fill the room.

“C’mon,” she starts, taking hold of Kyle’s thick wrist. His skin is always slightly cooler than everyone else’s. She remembers how cold the inside of his mouth was when they first — She blinks away the thoughts, actually disgusted by the idea. After all, she’d never really wanted to fuck a dead guy…

“Hey!” “Watch it, sweetheart!” “Get outta’ the way, you’re blockin’ the view, toots!”

Madison ignores the heckling, and continues to the front, pressing her bony hips against the lip of the stage.

“Hey! Dead bitch!”

Her voice is loud enough that it carries over the music, and you furrow your brow. She wasn’t wrong, but the bitch part seemed unnecessary. Still, you make your way over to the cluster of them, and bend at the waist to hear her.

“Yeah - what?” You ask, still swaying to the song.

“This is our little zombie — ”

“His name is Kyle,” The other girl interrupts pointedly. Madison throws a look towards the other girl, who nods with a fake smile. Truly, she didn’t care what you called him. As long as she didn't have to deal with him, she was happy.

“Kyle — and he needs a babysitter. He’s a little…” she makes a face, stretching her mouth out in a sneer. You knit your brows together again, unsure what that means.

Kyle, you think to yourself. What a frat boy name. In fact, he looks like a frat boy with really really good makeup. Full head of curly blonde hair, dark eyes, strong but soft features… looks like he can absolutely devour a keg.

He’s wearing an open black shirt and jeans, and beneath the black shirt, you can see raised flesh, scars like he was put back together. Funny that you’d chosen to do a dance number to Feed my Frankenstein.

“Do your job and keep him entertained, okay?” She pulls the peeking string of your thong far enough out to freely press a one hundred dollar bill against your hip and lets go. It snaps back against your skin, hard enough to sting. You wince.

Before you have time to protest, the girls are walking back towards the entrance without their little zombie in tow. One of them casts a woeful glance over her shoulder, and you’re left wondering why if she cares so much, why was she still walking away? You fill your lungs with air, exhale and lower yourself down onto your haunches.

“Hey baby,” you coo, wrapping a single blonde curl around your index finger. It’s angel-soft, and bounces back as you let go, straightening up. He seems to melt towards your touch, starved for it. “I like your costume.”

He watches as your ample cleavage sways with the gentle motion of your body. He repeats the word back to you, laboriously. “Cos…tume….”

“That’s right,” you say, running your hands over your thighs as you stand upright. The long heels of the shoes elongate your legs, making you tower over the club’s patrons. “I like it, it’s cute.”

Kyle watches wordlessly as your hands glide over your body, carefully skipping over the stitches at your knees, along your stomach, and finally up to the long stitch around your neck, which to him is holding your head on. Kyle’s eyes blink repeatedly with recognition.

You dip down, reaching for his hand. The crowd woooo’s as you hand him the string of your skirt. He grips it hard before looking at it deeply. You take one step back, flashing a coy expression to the men in the front row. Another step, and the tie begins to slip through the bow, unravelling. Another step and the skirt falls to your feet. A cacophony of approval fills your ears.

You’re in nothing but the blood-spattered bikini bottoms now, and you sink to your knees again, flashing Kyle a bright smile. He blinks, your skirt awkwardly hanging from his hand by the string.

On all fours, you crawl towards him, popping your ass to the beat of the song. Dollar bills shower the stage,  and when you slide your knees out to the sides, allowing men a delicious view of your backside, someone tucks another $100 in your bikini.

Kyle is watching you, but his hands drop to his groin where he makes a fist, and rubs it awkwardly over his now-throbbing erection. You immediately notice this, and your eyes widen. That’s a sure fire way to get kicked out, and for whatever reason, you’ve clocked him as too innocent to let that happen. There’s either a) something wrong with him, or b) he’s really committed to acting like a clueless, braindead boy. Both options require action.

“Okay, okay,” you murmur, guiding him to the side of the stage. There’s an empty chair, and with a heel, you push him back into it. Sit. Stay. He does. Good boy.

He never takes his eyes off you though, and every time you’re looking at him, his jaw hangs slack, staring at you with half-lidded eyes. He keeps trying to get up, and you have to slowly shake your head at him, teasingly. He seems to understand that gesture, and stays put.   

As you dance, you find yourself watching him, too. Inexplicably drawn to him, for whatever reason. You don’t usually take guys to the back, but $100 is a pretty good tip. Besides, you didn’t want to run into that girl again, and especially not angry.

As your routine comes to an end, Kyle gets up out of his chair, knocking into the edge of the stage. A few guys turn their heads, trying to figure out what this guy’s deal is. You’re too busy picking up your tips, and gathering your clothes to notice. With arms full, you race to the back, throw on a t-shirt and bolt back to the front, praying that Kyle is still where you left him.

He is. He may be trying to climb up on the stage, head craning in the direction of where you exited, but he's still there. You heave a relieved sigh, and saunter up to him, softening your expression.

“Hi, Kyle…” you murmur sweetly. You slip your arm underneath his, linking it with yours and softly pulling him down into a normal standing position again. There’s a small moment of processing and trust before he looks at you and smiles very weakly.

Destinee is next, and while she’s a nice girl, you absolutely loathe her taste in lighting. You enjoy a good rave, sure, but this is like the Electric Daisy Carnival in a much, much smaller space.

You learn very quickly that Kyle doesn’t like it either. At all. In fact, he might dislike it more than you. As soon as the beat is thumping and the bright red and orange lights are washing over the establishment, Kyle wrenches away from you, covering his ears. A low groan starts in his throat, bubbling up through his lips until he’s practically screaming.

“Shhh, shh it’s okay!” You try desperately to console him, but he can’t seem to hear you. Glancing nervously at the guests around you who are starting to take notice of him now, you smile apologetically. “Kyle, it’s okay!”

There’s only one solution - the private dance rooms. They’re quiet, secluded and a perfect spot to store a stressed out zombie boy for a few hours. You looked towards the spiral staircase that led upstairs, and hesitated. You were a dancer who rarely used the private rooms. You had been hard pressed to avoid being alone with any man, especially one that had paid you and felt entitled to whatever he wanted to take. Kyle, however, didn’t seem like the type to… well, do that. Or even articulate that he wanted to do that — did he even understand that you’d been paid to babysit him? Likely not.

You force his hand down as gently as possible, interlacing your fingers with his. “Kyle,” you say. “Kyle, look at me.”

His head moves sluggishly, and his eyes gradually follow. He looks at you with big, black eyes, the surrounding skin darkened and mottled. In the changing lights, he looks so lost, and your heart throbs desperately. Shucking the worries of whispers aside, you lead him through the club towards the wrought iron staircase.

“Hey Lance,” you say. “Private room open?”

“They sure are…” he replies with a large grin, his heavy accent coming through. Lance was one of the bouncers and rotated positions, so you had gotten semi-close with him. He enjoyed your presence and penchant for the strange. “Last door on da’ left.”  

With Kyle in tow, you head down the long, red hallway. Each of the doors were painted black, with gold trim. Kyle’s gaze travels from each door, picking up on the various sounds that seeped from behind them.

“Okay…” You say, your voice a touch softer than before as you push open the last door, praying that it’s been cleaned adequately. You cock your head to the side, urging him inside. His concerned eyes swept from you to the door and back to you before he finally decided that it was safe enough for him to enter. “Look, no strobe lights. No loud music. Just you and me.”

“You… and me….” He grumbles. The door clicks shut behind you. His words are painfully slow and slurred, but you can’t help be charmed by the innocence of them. “You…. You’re…. l-like me.”

“That’s right, baby… I’m like you.” In a quiet, joking whisper, you say: “Raaaaauuuuggghhhhhh…. Brains.”

Kyle seems to like this. The tiniest of smiles forms on his mouth. His chest heaves, and without warning, he lunges for you. His strong arms wrap around you in a steely grip that at first terrifies you; your arms are pinned at your sides, locked into place. His tongue slips over your collarbone, wet and cool like he’s just finished eating ice cream. It slips over your neck, along your jawline, and up behind your ear. He’s licking you, devouring you with such pressure that he has to have eaten some of the makeup by this point. You wince as he nips at your ear lobe, his teeth grinding down on the flesh. With some inhuman gurgle, he descends, covering your chest in his saliva.

You were used to men being hungry for you, acting like rabid dogs the second that they caught a glimpse of your plump tits or your juicy ass. It was part of the gig, came with the territory. But not this. This guy was on something. Had to be. Without warning, he yanks your cropped shirt up, and his jaws clamp down on the meat of your exposed breast. You yelp, pushing him off. He looks hurt or confused, or maybe both. Immediately, you scramble, feeling like you’ve just taken candy from a child.

“Hey no.. it’s okay. You can bite me… I like being bit. But not too hard, honey… that hurt.”

He doesn’t understand. Or he doesn’t look like he understands. His brows knit together sadly, while the dark, ink pools he has for eyes glaze over.

“….biiiiiiiiiiiiiite….” He says.

“Softly,” you finished, with your cutest zombie voice. “Biiiiite soft…ly….”

He cranes forward, mouth finding your flesh again. His teeth continue to graze your skin, slightly softer than before though, so maybe he does understand. His tongue lolls out sloppily to taste every inch. He nears the jumbled up mess of liquid latex on your elbow, and you expect him to stop, or skip over it — but he doesn’t. He feels uneven, soft flesh and his front teeth clamp down on it with a guttural sound. He rears his head back far enough for the liquid latex to streeeetch, and snap.

This gorgeous, blonde boy has a chunk of faux flesh hanging from between his teeth. Fake blood dots his pale lips, and he’s looking at you with the most confused expression you’ve ever seen on a man. It’s a grisly sight, really, but it fits the theme of the night. He’s committed to the zombie act, you’ll give him that.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, spit that out…” You reach up, rubbing the fake blood off his bottom lip. flatten your slender fingers on his broad chest, skin smooth like stone except for the deep scars. These are really good prosthetics. You can’t even see the seam. Because there aren’t any…

Like a dog, he drops the wrinkly skin-toned mass from his mouth and frowns. He looks genuinely disappointed, like he expected blood and guts. “B-bad… th-that… didn’t taste….. gooood…” he stammers. "Hun..gry…..”

For a moment, you’re frozen. Your realization clicks into place painfully slowly, slower than his brain seems to move. He’s really too good at the whole zombie act, and a panicked thought writhes its way into your mind, penetrating it the way that a tissue absorbs blood. Just sucks it in, becomes a part of it. No, no way.

Heavily masking the nerves in your voice, you clear your throat and reach for his shoulder. You stroke the smooth roundness of it, raking your nails against his skin.  “You want something that tastes good, baby?”

That ‘something good' is your cunt. You’ll let him eat you out so you can think. You assume he’ll eat you out like most men do — boringly — and you can process the realisation that this poor creature in front of you is actually really badly scarred, and possibly, a victim of head trauma, or something. Because there’s no way you’re meeting an actual zombie. Even on Halloween in New Orleans. That’s insane. So, you’re going to let him eat you out while you sort this out in your mind.

That was the plan, anyway.

Except the second you sink into the vinyl chair, he’s on his knees, looking at your pretty cunt with hungry eyes and the visual wipes your brain clean. It was like you put a plate of food in front of a starving man. His mouth opens. You untie both sides of your underwear, letting them fall to the floor. His eyes drop heavily, watching every move.

At first, his tongue juts out, curiously tasting what you’ve put in front of him. It presses between your folds, pauses, before wiggling around. Your eyelids flutter; you were ready to zone out, but Kyle’s inexperience, his curiosity feels so good.

“Good,” he growls, the word vibrating your cunt. His cool breath washes over your core, sending a chill up your spine. He delves deeper, tasting more of you.

His tongue flicks at your clit, flipping the swollen bundle of nerves mercilessly. Your whole body is trembling, and you feel the first of your orgasms rushing towards your centre. Carefully, not wanting to scare him, you grip his angel curls and ride his mouth slightly. Shit. Almost instantly, the throbbing starts and you make a mess of his poor boy’s face, squirting over his lips and chin.

“You like that?” You ask, through uneven pants. The first of the night always feels sooo good.

He nods heavily on your cunt, still lapping up the juices that leak from your slick hole. Your legs start to quiver and a fire burns deep within your cunt. You try to pat his shoulders, wordlessly telling him to stop. His tongue delves in, and he freezes.

“Kyle?” You ask nervously. Unconsciously, you clench around his tongue. He snaps to life, like someone flipped a switch in his brain. His strong arms wrap around the front of your thighs, tightly. Very tightly. He starts to pull you off the chair, lifting you up into his arms. Your ass cheeks are pressed against his chest and the back of your head is on the chair’s cushion now. He’s holding you tightly, upside down, still swallowing mouthfuls of your sopping wet cunt. He can’t seem to hear your desperate, pleading cries to stop.

You blink back tears, your vision throbs. You don’t know if it’s because the blood is very obviously rushing to your head, or because you’re coming again so quickly, but he’s drilling his tongue into your cunt like there’s a cream centre. If there is, he’s found it.

A scream fills your lungs and your body lunges upwards, trying to find leverage — something, anything to hold onto. She clenches again, pulsating around his cold, slippery tongue. Kyle’s practically drinking you with each clench. The overstimulation is crippling, and you can’t help but scream out.

“KYLE! STOP!”

At the shrill sound, he immediately drops you and your body hits the ground with a heavy thud. Your ass aches a little from the fall, but it’s nothing that’s going to ruin the night.

He’s frowning at you, his lips and chin glazed with your cum.

“S-sorry…” he grumbles. “Sorry. Bad.”

“No, no… not bad. Accident. Accident. Kyle?”

You call his name and he’s looking at you with those big, hopeful, dark eyes of his. You can tell — he isn’t sure if you’re going to scold him, or praise him and the uncertainty terrifies him. You get to your knees, crawling towards the sofa. Once you’re up on it, you pat the spot next to you three times.

“Can I see?” You gesture to your own body, tracing the remaining prosthetics with a single finger before pointing to him. He looks down, his bottom lip jutting out. He nods after a few seconds and lumbers over to you, sitting down heavily.  

Your fingers dance over his skin. He was literally pieced back together. His head, his arms, his legs, the lower half of his torso… he was sewn back together like Frankenstein. Different parts connected as one. You’re sitting next to an actual zombie.

And then it dawns on you. Those girls. You’d seen them before. You knew their faces. They lived in the massive mansion on Jackson Avenue. They were witches. Witches were a dime a dozen in New Orleans — in fact, it was weirder if you didn’t practice some kind of craft. But zombies… you’d only ever heard stories. You’d never seen one, let alone be eaten out by one.

You stroke Kyle’s broad chest. For being a zombie, he’s surprisingly soft. You’d always imagined them as dried out, crusty creatures, but he only had a few patches of dry skin. In fact, he had more patches where you could see dark blue pooling underneath his skin, where blood had settled after death. He is cold however, and that’s the most jarring part.

You ease him back on the leather sofa, making sure his head goes down softly onto the arm rest.  

“It’s okay, Kyle…. I like your body.”

“Costume….” He says. You shake your head.

“Body. Body.”

His hips give the tiniest little buck, and it slips between your ass cheeks. He whimpers, trying to get a visual of what he’s feeling. Gradually, his thrusts increase in pressure, and you adjust for your own pleasure.

When you adjust, forcing his cock to slide in between your cunt instead, he feels the slick warmth, and his feral nature returns, stronger than before. His thrusts pick up, and he seems to realise that you are a living thing, with pulsing blood and a throbbing heartbeat. Something else is throbbing again, too.

You whine and match his thrusts, letting your head loll back.

Kyle has a different idea, and before you can stop him, he has your forearm in his mouth, teeth clamped down on the soft, warm flesh. It only takes a few seconds for you to feel the stinging ache consuming your arm. It hurts… bad. The muscles in your fingers contract, twitching limply. He aggressively shakes his head, and your heart drops. The terror sets in, and you’re suddenly running cold.

“Kyle, no- OW! KYLE!”

He shakes his head again, biting down harder and digging his the ridges of his teeth deeper into your skin. You don’t necessarily feel the flesh tear, somewhere near the top, but you certainly feel the warm flow of blood that drips down your arm, dribbling onto his chest. Your pupils dilate. The blood keeps flowing, and you feel him start to rear his head back. Something pulls back with him. The ache is replaced by a searing burn, and you realise that if he pulls back any further, he’s going to pull off skin. You’re panicking now, and don’t know what else to do but try again. This time though, you roar at him, bringing back your zombie voice. It’s not so cute this time. “Raaaaaaaaauhhhhhh, KYLE. KYLE STOP. STOP!”

You try to rip your arm away from his mouth, while pushing his head. Thankfully, his powerful jaw goes slack and your arm slides out, strings of spit stretching from his lips. Your blood is smeared across his chin and bottom lip, and collects in the corners of his mouth.

With your vision bouncing thanks to Kyle’s furious thrusting, you look at your arm, watching the bright crimson well up in the indentations of the bite mark. Amidst the rest of your makeup, the bite doesn’t look out of place. You hold your arm out further, trying to come up with a story for this one. Maybe the makeup had stained in an absolutely mind-blowing way. And you had a reaction to it, hence the bizarre swelling and scabbing. That sounds good, sounds believable.

“Want… more…”  He says, and your stomach drops, praying that he doesn’t mean more flesh. You’re not sure you can handle another one. Mid-thrust, Kyle’s thick, veiny cock angles just right and slips into your cunt. She swallows him easily, still wet from being eaten — a mixture of cum and Kyle’s viscid, slimy saliva. You plant both hands on his chest, letting out a breathy, melodic moan. He feels good enough to make you forget about the bite, and as you begin to ride him, it seems that he forgets too.

You’re taking control, grinding on top of him, using his cock like your own personal toy. It’s hitting every spot you want it to, pressing into your walls with its girth, and you can’t help but whine about it. Pausing to smear your blood across Kyle’s chest with your middle finger, you leave deep, red streaks across pale skin. You shouldn't find that hot, but you do.

Kyle wraps both hands around your waist, pulling you down onto his cock relentlessly, each thrust feeling harder than the last. You lean forward, pressing your tits against his almost bare chest, and allowing him to take control, thrusting his cock up into you. The slightly bent positioning of his cock, head grinding against your spongy insides is enough to make you cum right then. You don’t though, holding back, clenching your pussy as tight as you can.

“You like it, Kyle?” You ask, through shaky pants. “You like that?”

Kyle nods, heavily, his darkened eyes watching the way that your body quivers on top of him, wordlessly marvelling at the way your thigh muscles contract and shake on top of him every time he slips out, and buries himself inside your dripping pussy again. He loves how it feels, even if he can’t articulate it the way he wants to, the sensations are everything he wants. Everything.

He grips you harder, lifting you off his cock and slamming you back down, repeating this violent display of strength over and over again. Your cunt shudders, unable to hold back your orgasm any longer. Kyle feels it first, and the sudden tightness has him growling, snarling and pushing his length into you as deep as he can. Kyle digs his heels into the sofa, lifting his legs. You feel the pressure against your cervix as he bottoms out, and press against his cock, forcing his cock deeper into you, until you feel the ache. You ride out the waves of your own orgasm, feeling his as it comes in thick, sticky ropes.

There’s a gentle knock at the door, and you quickly get to your feet, pulling your shirt over your head. You scramble, trying to find the bikini bottoms and once they’re tied, you throw open the door. It’s Lance, who is looking very concerned. Your legs are pressed tightly together, in fear that Kyle’s load is going to start dripping down your thighs and onto the floor.

“Miss Y/N. The club is closing… are you alright in there?”

Closing? What? It was bareley eleven when you brought him into the room. The seedy, slick realisation that you’d been fucking this zombie for almost four hours made your cheeks blossom with heat. You immediately tuck your bitten arm behind the door, flashing Lance a charming smile.

“Yes! Fine! Just uh, finishing up a dance. Hey - Lance… did two girls ever come back, asking for this blonde guy in here?”

He pauses, thinking. After a few moments, he shakes his head and apologises.

Okay, guess he’s coming home with me, then. “Thank you, Lance. I’ll be down in just a second.”

You shut the door and lean against it, looking at the zombie on the sofa. He’s staring up at the ceiling, a small smile on his face. “Kyle, do you live on Jackson Street? Where do you live?”

He sits up abruptly, turning his head to face you. “Uhm…” He murmurs. “Big…… white.”

“Big white house?” You repeat, making a house shape with your hands. He nods.

“You wanna’ go home?”

~

After throwing on a pair of dolphin shorts, collecting your duffel bag and giving Lance a generous tip, you have Kyle in tow, fingers laced tightly with his. Jackson Street was maybe a twenty minute walk, something you both could handle.

Despite it going on 3 AM, the streets were still filled with partiers, people in masks, and drinks in their hands. You and Kyle blend in as you walk, heading down the busy roads. Once you arrived at the Mansion, the gates were open, a fine mist spilling into the sprawling yard.

The woman who answers the door is beautiful, graceful and composed. She wears all black, her honey blonde hair cascading graceful over her shoulders.

“Good Evening,” she says.

“Good Evening. Um.. this is going to sound strange, even for Halloween, but, um…”  You want to continue. Desperately, but for some reason, you already know the answer. He does belong here. As though she’d said it to you, plain as day, he belonged here, this is where he stayed.

Zoe and Madison must’ve forgotten him.

Your brows furrow, indignantly. How could they?

Cordelia’s plump lips flatten into a knowing smile. You swallow, suddenly feeling uneasy. You scratch at the liquid latex on your neck, fiddling uncomfortably with one of the edges of the prosthetic.

“Well, Kyle… here you go. Go with…?”

“Cordelia.”

“Cordelia. Go with Cordelia, you’re home now.”

Kyle seems somewhat hesitant, but when Cordelia holds out a hand, he obeys and lumbers inside, looking over his shoulder at you one last time.

“Thank you for bringing him home,” she says, softly. “Would you like to come inside?”  

You consider that for a second. Deep within the wetness of your bones, and the warmth of your blood, you feel like you should. There’s something extremely comforting about this place, but… “No, no thank you. I should be getting home. It’s Halloween. Weird things happen on Halloween.”

She smiles again. “That’s quite a bite you have on your arm… did Kyle do that?”

“Oh, uh… yeah. He got a little excited earlier, I’m a dancer, and uh, y’know. Men.”

“I have something for that.”

You look down at your bite again, it looks nastier than before. You clear your throat, ready to reject and explain that your older sister is a nurse and she’ll help, but instead, and you’re not quite sure how that happened, you’re walking through the doors. Kyle is delighted to see you again, pausing on the grand staircase to look at you.

Cordelia’s hands end up being very, very soft.

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