#1: I love this fic

[lunatih]

I want to shake him like a rattle

Link, (finally) realizing something (I hope), from The Curious Minds by @allthegoodusernamesaretakenagain

[asexualasshat]

Anyone else Thinkin about how Steve was 100% the subject of Eddie cafeteria rants during Steve’s senior year?? Maybe a jibe about how Nancy was right to leave him? She’s too good for him??

And it hurts cause he’s a lil raw but it’s mostly like “yeah I know” so it mostly brushes past him. He’s doing his best to be a decent person.

And so now after seeing Steve bite the head off a bat and also be kind and respectable? He’s like “woah. Steve is good. So good. Maybe the best. Deserves so much love.” And obviously that’s rapidly growing crush. But he doesn’t quite pick up on it so he’s like “this surely means he’s at least good enough for Nancy. I need to encourage them to get together because Steve is so good and deserves the best”

So he encourages it and Steve kinda explores it and he’s quickly like “hmmm no. She’s the best and we’re buds and will never kiss again.”

And Eddie is a lil crushed that Steve isn’t happy and in love. No he’s fr feeling very sad for Steve.

It’s like a month later, with Steve leaning against him while they watch a movie, that Eddie’s like “hold the phone! I don’t just want him to be happy and in love! I want him to be happy and in love with ME!”

Thus followed by Eddie’s bumbling attempts because he doesn’t really think he’s good enough for steve

But what he doesn’t know is that Steve sped through a sexuality crisis and had been ranting to Robin about how Eddie wasn’t picking up on his flirting (Robin says he’s too subtle) so he doesn’t know what to do. But oh man, he recognizes flirting coming at him with no question. Even if it’s so deeply awkward. So once he sees Eddie flirting??? Game on. Come to Stevie

End rant

[choccy-milky]

part 3 to my modern AU 💞🍺 (part 1 / part 2)

[tinseltownie]

I died btw

[rafeandonlyrafe]

proper thank you

words: 600

warnings: 18+ only!, stepbro!rafe, sending nudes, stepcest, kinda dumb/baby reader???

“carry me up to bed rafey?” you coo at your step brother, fluttering your lashes as your pout turns into a giggle when he sighs, unable to resist your pleading face.

“you're the most annoying little sis ever.” rafe says, calling you the nickname just to tease you as he leans down, scooping you into his arms. he carries you like you weigh nothing, so easily slotting into the good older stepbrother role when your parents married, despite him being only a few months older than you.

“thank you rafey.” you say sweetly as he walks you up the stairs, your arms holding him around the shoulders, head leaned against his broad chest.

“yeah, you gotta give me a better thank you than that.” rafe rolls his eyes as he carries you into your bedroom. only once the door is closed do you press a wet kiss to his cheek as a proper thank you.

rafe plops you down on the bed unceremoniously. “there ya go.” he waves as he walks away, knowing it's not actually goodnight as you let out a whine.

“tuck me in?”

rafe hides his smirk before turning around, putting on his slightly annoyed act like he always does when you ask him.

rafe pulls the fluffy blanket out from under you. it's slightly weighted so it naturally tucks around your body anyways as rafe covers you, but his hands still move slowly, feeling your body as he pushes in the blanket until you're stuck tight underneath it.

“anything else? want me to tell you a bedtime story?” rafe says it as a joke, but with the way your eyes light up, he finds himself sitting on the edge of your bed, recounting three little pigs from memory the best he can.

“alright, you gotta get to bed now.” rafe glances at the clock on your nightstand as the hour hand ticks closer to midnight. “goodnight.”

“goodnight rafey.” you smile softly before letting out a yawn. “ill give you a proper thank you soon.”

rafe isn't sure what you mean until he makes it back to his room, scrolling aimlessly through his phone until a text message appears from you.

he clicks it to open up the image, his eyes widening and dick swelling as he sees you in a silky nightgown, the swell of your breasts clearly visible, nipples poking through the fabric. he recognizes the nightgown from a few days ago, but you clearly got further undressed.

rafes eyes bulge as the next image loads, the same pose, now sans nightgown, tits bare and thighs clenched together to make a delicious looking v that rafe wants to dive into.

a proper thank you ;) reads your text, along with one last image, this time with your legs spread, smile on your face as your cunt is on clear display. you took the marker tool to add to your lower stomach “property of big brother.”

rafe is in your room untucking you from your bed before the clock reaches midnight.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut

[libraryofgage]

so i wrote this yesterday and now it's become a whole thing

basically: Steve is actually smart but nobody realized it until he just fixes their various STEM related problems

anyway this is Eddie's very first experience with how smart Steve Harrington actually is

also please don't call me out if my physics explanations are wrong. just suspend your disbelief, i'm begging you lmao

also also, if you see any typos, no you didn't

---

"You're going to fail my class, Munson."

"Gee, no need to sugarcoat it," Eddie mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets and avoiding Miss Chester's gaze. His eyes land on one of the posters behind her desk, a cat hanging off a tree branch. Maybe it would like to trade places.

Miss Chester sighs, looking pointedly at the desk closest to hers. She waits until Eddie sits on it, legs hanging over the edge. "I'm serious," she says. "You're going to fail, Eddie. I don't want you to, but there's just some...disconnect happening here."

He appreciates that she's not totally blaming him. Most of Eddie's other teachers would've been berating him for his laziness by now. This, among other things, is why Eddie likes her class even if he can't wrap his head around physics at all. "I don't know, Miss. It just doesn't make sense."

"So I'm noticing." Miss Chester leans back in her chair, her finger tapping against her desk. Eddie immediately recognizes it as the drum beat from a KISS song. "You know you'll probably be held back if you fail, right?"

"Not the first time."

Miss Chester waves off his words, looking deep in thought. "What do you think about tutoring? I think you'll do better in a one-on-one setting. If you understand the concepts better, I can start grading you based on the work you do with the tutor."

"It wouldn't be you?" Eddie asks, frowning slightly. He's not sure he wants some random geek tutoring him. Not that he has anything against geeks, of course, but he's never known one to talk in a way he can understand. They get all...technical and Eddie's eyes glaze over whenever he overhears their conversations.

"No, I don't have the time. But don't worry," Miss Chester says, smiling reassuringly before pulling her roster close and looking down the list. "The student I have in mind probably knows more than me, if I'm being honest. He should be able to answer any question you have."

"What student?"

"His name is Steve."

Of course, Eddie immediately thinks of that Steve. King Steve. Steve "The Hair" Harrington with his blinding smile that's always looked a little strained in Eddie's opinion.

He then dismisses Steve Harrington as a possibility and reviews the other kids named Steve at Hawkins High. There's Steve Paulson, Steve Meyers, and Steve Barns. Maybe it's Barns? He's the only one that Eddie could imagine being somewhat good at physics.

"Are you open to tutoring?" Miss Chester asks. "For one session, at least?"

"Yeah, sure, one session. Won't help, though."

Miss Chester smiles like she knows something Eddie doesn't. Which, to be fair, she does. She knows a lot more than Eddie in terms of physics, at least. "I'll set it up. Just come by tomorrow after school."

--------

On his first day at Hawkins High, Steve realized two things.

One, his parents weren't kidding when they'd said public school would be vastly different from the private group tutoring he'd received up to that point.

Two, if he wanted to have a good high school experience, he needed to be cool. And being cool, it seemed, meant not being smart. He didn't need to be dumb, but he couldn't breeze through his classes, either.

He's done a good job of it so far. He's bored beyond reason in most of his classes, sure, but he's also popular. Nobody bothers him or tries to copy off of him, and it's great. He can even swallow down the weird surge of frustration and annoyance and guilt whenever his classmates assume he's too dumb to be a good project partner, or when his parents ask why he isn't enrolled in AP classes, or when his teachers give him confused looks after he aces tests for a unit he seemingly didn't pay attention to.

Anyway, he almost rejected Miss Chester's request to tutor a student from a different class period. He was just about to say he didn't have the time when she leveled him with a look so profoundly hopeful that he just couldn't. So, Steve said yes and now he's hesitating outside the physics classroom.

What if the student inside uses this against him? Steve thinks he could play it off, maybe convince his friends that the kid is lying, but he's not sure. Nothing dire would happen, but Steve would have to reorient himself to a new place on the social ladder, and that sounds exhausting.

"Just get it over with," he mumbles. Then, before he can chicken out and just leave the other student hanging, he opens the door and steps into the classroom.

Miss Chester isn't there. Steve knew she wouldn't be. She'd said something about a department meeting that would take her time but leave them with the classroom to themselves.

The only other person in the room is Eddie Munson, bent over a notebook and furiously scribbling on the page. He looks up when the door opens and freezes at the sight of Steve. They stare at each other for a few seconds before Eddie breaks the silence by asking, "What, get lost on your way to the locker room, Harrington?"

Steve blinks, frowns slightly, and takes a deep breath. Okay. Fine. Eddie Munson it is. "Nope. Miss Chester asked me to tutor you," he says, because that's the only reason another student would be in this room after school has let out.

Eddie laughs. He nearly falls out of his chair with how hard he laughs. He's wheezing and clutching the edges of the desk by the time Steve moves another desk to face him and sits down across from him. "Are you done, Munson?" he asks.

"Holy shit, you're serious," Eddie says, his voice slightly strained and his face red from laughing. "No fucking way Steve Harrington is here to tutor me in physics. You probably don't even know what two plus two is!"

"It's four. Do you know what 12 times 40 is?" Steve asks, watching as Eddie blinks.

"I'm not a fucking calculator, man."

"No, you're not. It's 480, by the way."

"You could've just memorized that."

Steve sighs and reaches into his bag, digging around some before pulling a calculator out. He places it on Eddie's desk and says, "Ask me something."

Eddie looks at him like he's grown a second head but still pulls the calculator closer. "1,239 plus 378."

"1,617."

He watches Eddie use the calculator, feeling smug when his face twists into confused disbelief. He then puts the calculator down and frowns at Steve. "So you can add, big whoop. Doesn't mean you can teach me shit about physics."

"Won't know until we try," Steve says, resting his elbow on the desk and propping his chin in his palm. "So, what don't you get?"

"...All of it. Just assume I don't know shit."

"You don't know Newton's laws?"

Eddie snorts, looking back down at his notebook. "There's that motion one and the reaction one," he says.

"Right. Newton's first law and his third. What about the second?"

"It's just...some equation or some shit."

Okay, Steve is starting to get an idea of where things stand. He thinks for a moment before asking, "What kind of stuff do you like?"

"What?"

"What do you like?"

Eddie looks so shocked by the question that he doesn't really think before answering, "Heavy metal. And, uh, D&D, too."

Steve knows heavy metal is music, and he could work with that but the D&D Eddie mentioned might be better. "What does it involve? The D&D?"

"It's a fantasy role playing game. Like, using your imagination to go on adventures with friends and stuff. Needs dice to work."

Oh. Perfect. "Do you have dice with you?" Steve asks. After another brief pause, Eddie nods and pulls one out of his pocket. He passes it over and watches as Steve turns it between his fingers. "Oh, an icosahedron. Cool."

"A what?"

"Icosahedron," Steve says, looking at Eddie. "It just means a twenty-sided polyhedron."

Eddie still looks confused, and Steve is about to explain it again when Eddie says, "Just call it a D20, dude."

"Oh. Sure. Anyway, let's use this," Steve says, rolling it between his fingers before letting it clatter to the desk. It bounces a few times before settling, a 17 facing up. "Do you know what made it stop moving?"

"The desk. I'm not an idiot, Harrington."

"I didn't say you were, Munson," Steve replies, leaning back slightly. "Just...yes, the desk stopped it. This is Newton's first law. If the desk wasn't there, it would have kept falling until it hit the floor. It stopped bouncing because it lost power each time it hit the desk. An object, the D20, will stay in motion, falling, unless acted upon by another force, the desk."

"That...kinda made sense," Eddie says, blinking a few times.

"Great!" Steve says, unable to help the bright smile at knowing Eddie understood him. "Okay, for the second law, the equation is mass times acceleration equals force. Basically, the movement of an object depends on how much it weighs and how much force you apply."

"Aaaand ya lost me," Eddie says.

"Okay, uh, you fight things in that game, right?"

"Yeah, kind of the whole point."

"Right, yeah, and the stuff you fight comes in different sizes, right?"

"Well, an orc isn't gonna be as big as a dragon, is it?"

Steve isn't really sure what an orc is, but he nods anyway. "Right. So if you want to move a dragon, you need to land a stronger hit than you would need for an orc."

"Duh. You're not gonna fell a dragon with a basic cantrip."

"Not sure what that is, but yeah. For this example, moving, or defeating, an object, or a dragon that weighs more than an orc, relies on how much force you apply, which is the strength you use."

"Oh. So, because an orc weighs less, I don't need as much force to defeat it," Eddie says, grinning as he fidgets with his pencil. "This doesn't really sound like math, though."

Steve shrugs. "We'll get to the math part later. Right now is basics. You need to understand those to do more complicated stuff. So, the third law, this is the action-reaction law. Music might be better for it. What happens when you strum a guitar?"

"It...makes a sound. Because it's an instrument."

"Well, yeah, but do you understand how the sound is being made."

"By...strumming it?"

"Yeah, that's part of it. Sounds are vibrations in the air that we can understand. If you touch your throat while talking, you'll feel your voice box, your larynx, vibrate to make the sound of you talking."

He waits as Eddie does exactly that. While holding his fingers to his throat, Eddie says, "Didn't know it was called a larynx. Oh, fuck, yeah, there are vibrations."

Steve nods, waiting patiently as Eddie hums for a few minutes before looking back at him. "So, vibrations. Instruments make sound because playing them causes vibrations. When you strum a guitar, the strings rapidly move back and forth, and that movement is translated into notes."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but yeah, I'm following you."

"So, the action of strumming a guitar creates the reaction of the strings vibrating. That action of the strings vibrating creates the reaction of air rippling, and those ripples create the reaction of audible noise. Did that make sense?"

"Yeah. It did," Eddie says, his voice soft as he stares at Steve like he's really seeing him for the first time.

Steve shifts uncomfortably, unused to this aspect of himself being known so well by someone at school. He's almost tempted to end things now and apologize to Miss Chester for walking out halfway through a tutoring session. Steve is practicing the apology in his head when Eddie says, "Hey, by the way, sorry for earlier."

"What?" Steve asks, trying to blink away his confusion and failing.

"You know, earlier, when I laughed at you? Pretty shitty of me to do. So, yeah, I'm sorry."

"Oh." Steve stares at Eddie for a few seconds before his shoulders relax. "It's fine. I'm not exactly known for being smart."

"Why not?"

"It's just...easier to let people think I'm dumb. Most of our classmates look at me and think I'm just, you know, a typical jock. They don't expect more from me than that, and I don't expect them to look any deeper."

"Does anyone else know, though?"

"My parents and the teachers. And you."

"Well, don't worry, big boy. Your secret's safe with me."

"Big boy?"

"Don't like it? Would you prefer Stevie?" Eddie asks, grinning as he leans in and exaggeratedly waggles his eyebrows at Steve.

Steve can't help snorting at the sight. "Whatever. Just call me what you want, Eddie," he says.

He tries to ignore the weird swooping in his stomach when Eddie's smile gets wider and he says, "You better not regret it, Stevie."

[hyperballart]

HEAR ME OUT!!!!!

being the beverage cart girl at a golf course that dilf!art frequents… the first time you came around to offer him something from your cooler he’d been a bit stunned—you’re a pretty young thing he hasn’t seen around before. he politely declined and you went about your way shortly after with an, i’ll see you around mr. donaldson! you make your rounds for weeks and weeks and always stop by him even if all you get is a no thanks, i’m good sweetheart. you try to hide your flustered state with a small nod before speeding off in your golf cart, if it were any other man at the course you’d be crawling out of your skin. but you think he might be the most beautiful man you’ve encountered—sharp jaw always working a piece of gum and blue eyes that maintain firm contact with you during interactions. and art knows the age gap between you both would be frowned upon if he let his desires take control, so he keeps you at a distance. the fact that he fucks his hand thinking about you in your cute little skirts and tight tank tops, watching you bend over to retrieve drinks from afar, and seeing your smile while interacting with other players is between him and god only. he always finishes on his stomach with an echo of your voice in his head, need anything mr donaldson?

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Postcards ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Summary: Quirky postcards are a tradition. Lando and you make sure to uphold it.

➨ ln4 x reader

➨ fluff

masterlist ☾☼

you loved attending lando’s races. it was a different atmosphere, charged and electric. you would hang out with lando and oscar before they would have to leave. you would wish them both luck with gentle kisses on their cheeks, and whispered i love you’s between you and lando. the team would make sure that you were comfortable with headphones on your head that lando had insisted that you wear at all times because of the loud environment. you would be there before, during, and after, and nothing made you happier.

ever since the two of you had begun dating, lando had made sure to add an additional day or two for travelling. he knew how much you loved it, and how much you craved to see new places. honestly, though, if you had asked lando to sign over his life to you with your big, beautiful eyes, he wouldn’t even hesitate.

lando and you would walk around the city, finding and visiting new places, trying different cuisines, and whatnot. you loved interacting with new people, and learning about their lives. if people had thought that lando was a yapper, wait till they saw you. it was one of lando’s favourite things about you. you managed to have a conversation with anyone and everyone, always with a smile on your face and bright eyes.

lando would follow you around like a puppy (as he should) while you dragged him into every shop you found interesting. you would look for the quirkiest postcards you could find, asking lando for his opinion on whether he thought it was funny or if the two of you could find something better. it was a joint effort, and it was a tradition that was close to your heart. whenever you found a postcard that made the two of you laugh, or smile, you bought it. and then, later, lando would get a photo of the two of you printed from his camera, and stick it on the back of the postcard.

it had become a practice between the two of you ever since the first race you had attended within the first two weeks of you two dating. lando had desperately wanted you to attend, and you agreed, on two conditions: you should be hidden from the media until you felt comfortable, and you wanted a day or two added for exploring the city.

lando had agreed. of course he did.

back in your apartment, you had a box full of all the quirky postcards you and lando had bought. it made you so much happier to share something like that with him.

though, when you had to miss races because of your university and internships, you couldn’t help but feel a little disheartened that the two of you wouldn’t be able to buy postcards anymore. of course, you would watch the races, and you would text lando throughout. you would even try and visit the races that were closer to home so that you didn’t overwork yourself. lando was grateful for all of it, but he knew that having you there in person was different than having you there through the phone.

the first race that you had missed, you had cried and apologised to lando for not being able to attend. lando had reassured you that your work was equally important, and that he wouldn’t want you to give up your passion to support his. he understood your need to make a name for yourself, and he was there to support you throughout. he knew that while you had felt a little better, you weren’t completely feeling good. to cheer you up, lando had decided to uphold the tradition, and the day after the race, he dragged oscar to look for a quirky postcard for you. after finding one, he would find a picture from his camera from during the race weekend, attach it to the postcard and mail it to you.

the first time you had received it, you had been so happy. you had facetimed lando, thanking him, and he told you all about the backstory of the photograph. you would laugh, and lando would laugh, and everything was okay again. it was the first time you knew that you loved him and wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

that became the new norm.

any race that you couldn’t attend, lando would find a postcard, print a picture from his camera, and mail it to you. you would talk to him whenever you received it, and then you would store them in your box. certain postcards that were your favourites, whether for the picture he had sent along with it, the story, or even the postcard, you stuck them on your fridge with a magnet.

eventually, years later, after the two of you had moved in together in monaco, you and lando had a brilliant idea. it was going to be a lot of work, you two knew that, but it was going to be worth the effort.

it had taken an entire day, but you guys had settled on the floor of your new bedroom with the box of postcards, and an album book. there were four years worth of postcards for the two of you to sort through. there was music playing in the background, snacks laying around, and a wine bottle that you two shared. lando and you sorted through the postcards, setting aside your most favourite ones and adding the others in the album. the two of you danced and giggled, and sang along to the songs playing in the background. the two of you recounted stories, smiling and also crying a little bit.

after the album was done, lando picked up the box with the remaining postcards, and followed you to the living room. you and lando stood in front of the plain wall, which lando had originally planned on painting himself, before he had decided on a new plan. after a half hour of measuring and failing terribly at doing calculations, the two of you got to work. grabbing postcards from the box, you began sticking them to the wall.

it wasn’t completely stuck. you could always flip it over to look at the picture, and you knew that lando and you would switch some of the postcards in the future to add new favourites.

carlos had asked about the postcards when the f1 grid had come over for a housewarming dinner, along with your friends and lando’s friends.

he stood in front of the wall, staring at the postcards, when he finally asked, “what’s the deal with the postcards?”

“flip them over,” lando said.

carlos did as he asked, and realised that there were pictures in the back. he flipped through some of them, finding pictures of him and lando as well.

“i remember when lando used to drag me to every possible shop in whichever city we were in to look for a postcard quirky enough for y/n,” oscar said, laughing.

“we didn’t go to every shop,” lando whined, while you giggled.

“no, lando, we did. every shop he saw tourist-y stuff, he would drag me there, and then ask me if it was quirky enough for y/n. those were his exact words,” everyone laughed, because of course lando went to every shop looking for the perfect postcard. even then, he loved you so much that he wanted the best for you, and anyone and everyone around them could see that from the start.

later that night, when lando was washing the dishes, you came up to him. fitting under one of his arms, as he continued to wash dishes, you hugged him.

“thank you for finding me the best postcards,” you whispered against his chest.

lando kissed the top of your head, “always the best for you, love,”

stupid postcards went and made you fall in love.

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

im not sure if i love this, but i really liked the idea, and i really wanted to try and write it! i've also got a link for my taglist that you can find here!

[fiendishartist2]

guy who doesnt dance x guy who will drag you onto the dance floor

[thatskindarough]

I’m not sure about anyone else but I personally have a pretty hard time finding Aziraphale centric fics. Crowley centric fics are really easy to find, stuff that splits C/A evenly is also pretty easy to find.

So I think we should start a thread of Aziraphale centric fics (or at least ones where he gets to take a major role in.)

I’ll go first:

These are the Soul by Mikripetra—This is my comfort fic I love it with my entire being.

Starmaker and Starlight by Nohaljiachi—This one just made me very happy then very sad. It focuses on Aziraphale before the beginning, coming to be friends with the starmaker (angel Crowley)

Prax In Terris —by Oatmeal Addiction I love this one because it captures the spirit of good omens perfectly. Genuinely if s3 was a fanfiction this (and the other fic in this series) is what I’d want it to be. Now it is not exactly Aziraphale centric, it does split time pretty evenly with Crowley and Muriel, but I love Aziraphale’s role in this, and he gets to be really interesting and stubborn. (Maybe not for all readers who dislike face value interpretations of the FF though.) It’s a wip about the second coming and I’m very curious where the author is gonna take it.

If you want, please feel free to add any Aziraphale centric fics to this post and also please shamelessly self-rec your own fics

(Edited to add the author names and also to say thank you for everyone recommending things, it makes me and I’m sure other Aziraphale fans very happy!)

[peoplesprincessgeorge]

galex + txt posts = true <3

[hercarisntyours]

you don't understand how badly I need mockumentry sitcom transformers

(edit: for the people now seeing this I am making a tfone the office au!! (and taking suggestions for scenes lmao!!)

[starry-bi-sky]

mmmmmm read a disciple shen yuan/shizun luo binghe fanfic about two days ago where the first chapter was the Immortal Conference arc, and SQQ was the one who had to be pushed into the abyss (he was still the villain) except Luo Binghe was refusing and was like, lowkey losing his mind about SQQ being so close to the edge. SQQ ended up having to be the one to fall in himself because of the system's punishment system. The rest of the fic is leading up to that moment. But like, MMM i've been obsessively thinking about that first chapter for DAYS ever since.

now i've been in svsss for a grand total of *checks watch* a week. but god obsessed with that. I want to write/read a fic where disciple SQQ goes a little nuts down there. Like keep all of the things that make SQQ, SQQ, but just. Throw in a little bit more trauma in there. A little bit of a mental break. Let him go a little nuts as a treat. Just a tad unhinged. I wanna see him go, just a little, "god fuck it, i've tried so hard to change this shitty story's outcome and it feels like everything i've done has been for nothing. I'm going to die in this world no matter what I do, I've been doomed from the start, so might as well die the way I want to." and he just, breaks a little! Under all the stress.

He still retains the traits that makes shen yuan, shen yuan, like his overwhelming kindness. But he's just! yk. A little less patient. Paranoid. Jumpy. Colder. A little more aloof and closed off. A little more Shen Jiu. He's no asshole child abuser, but he was a Number One Hater in his past life and he's leaning into that old habit a little more now.

(On a totally coincidental not-at-all related note, there's not enough SJ-and-SY-are-the-same-people fics out there that i've found. This is totally unrelated...)

The Endless Abyss turns the mind into an over-sharpened blade, and SQQ is both fascinated and perhaps a little excited to explore a place that doesn't have a lot of info on it in the mortal realm, but still terrified out of his mind. And he's no Luo Binghe, he doesn't have the sheer brute strength and power to just bulldoze his way through, so he has to be a lot more sneaky and cunning if he wants to survive.

The fic itself role-swapped LBH and SQQ so that SQQ was the half-demon (which lowkey fucks) and LBH the human, but I'm equally-if-not-more obsessed with the idea that LBH remains the half-heavenly demon and SQQ the human. If only because I keep thinking about SQQ befriending some demons (particularly and specifically a group of succubi) and they grow very attached to this Human Cultivator so through magic plot stuff they create some kind of seal/illusion/talisman that makes SQQ appear as a demon because a human cultivator in the endless abyss may as well be the equivalent of putting a giant neon target on your back.

And iirc Shen Jiu was taught demonic cultivation by that one guy(?? i've only been here a week so im not caught up in ALL of the lore yet) so that could totally happen here.

(On the other end of the realms, poor Shizun Luo Binghe is just. losing his fucking mind over losing his most precious and beloved disciple. About .5 seconds from burning down the peaks himself. somebody sedate him.)

The Endless Abyss sucks and SQQ is having a really terrible time and can feel himself going lowkey mad, but also holy shit look at all this WORLD-BUILDING. look at all this flora and fauna, and oh if he had the equipment for it he'd be writing all of this down. ALL OF IT. He was kinda-sorta-already planning on never leaving the Abyss as some sort of fucked up self-exile and self-preservation thing, but now he might? actually just?? never leave if he can help it, like he lowkey likes it down here.

anyways the next time anyone ever sees SQQ again he's got hair so long its almost touching the ground and he's either in rags and half-feral or he's been completely dolled up by his adoptive succubi sisters and still about three seconds from biting anyone who tries to touch him. (he's also lowkey trying to book it back down to the abyss even if he has desperately missed all of his friends and shizun)

[ssentimentals]

hey i wanted to request soft promt 37 with lando... idk its just really lando coded

i love you forever for sending me f1 prompts!! 💜 and it IS lando coded, thank you for requesting and i hope you'll like it!

fluff prompt: 'it's not a double date, we're just third and fourth wheeling.'

lando adjusts his jacket for the third time, ignoring carlos and his pointedly amused stare. he obviously has it easy - his girlfriend is right next to him and they both are sickeningly in love with each other, so it's not like he has to woo her with his appereance. unlike lando, who is very much single and has a job to woo you with his appereance. shit, does he have time to go back and change?

'cabron, you're overthinking this,' carlos says in attempt to calm him down. 'you look fine, i promise i wouldn't have set you up on a double date if i weren't sure that she likes you back.'

just the thought that carlos might be right, that you actually might lando back is enough to perk him up. carlos is not that cruel to joke about stuff like this and lando is...well, hopeful. his hope rise further when rebecca softly says that you two would make a great couple. he honestly can't agree more; his imagination painted that picture too many times in his mind of you two being together. god, you'd be so good to each other, he knows. he knows all of this, so he has no idea why he starts acting like an idiot when you turn up.

'this looks suspiciously like a double date from the outside,' you murmur, sliding up to the booth next to him, watching as carlos and rebecca argue about the drinks.

you look beautiful. stunning, really. which is what he is supposed to say but instead what comes from his mouth is: 'it's not a double date, we're just third and fourth wheeling.'

lando is ready to hit his head on the table, but then you laugh and oh. he is okay with being an idiot if it makes you laugh like that. he likes your laugh, like your smile. lando likes so many things about you, it's getting ridicilous how he has such a hard time articulating all of it to you.

'you two look cute,' carlos comments offhandedly.

'oh, do we?' you ask, turning to lando, smiling. 'not as cute as you two though.'

'we are cuter than them.' lando argues, when food arrives. 'how can you lie to them?'

he likes making you laugh. lando is sure that he looks like a lovesick puppy, but my god, if making you laugh was a job, he'd apply for it and stay in this position for as long as you'll have him. your eyes shine bright when you turn to him, sitting as close as this little booth allows you to. 'that's very confident,' you comment, chuckling. 'but we gotta let them win this one, lan. they are together, afterall.'

lando blinks. he can be such an idiot, but he surely can't miss this chance, right? 'then we should get together too,' he says quietly even though both carlos and rebecca are busy slow dancing on the dance floor. 'so we can win this argument.'

there's a pause when you try to gauge his reaction, to understand whether he's being real or not. lando just stares at you with all of the emotions written clearly on his face for you to see. 'just for the sake of winning this argument?' you ask at last, more serious but still smiling.

'for winning this life.' lando lets out and cringes at the same second, making you howl with laughter.

'oh my god, that was horrible!' you squeak, leaning on him, laughing.

'i can't believe i said that as well,' lando mutters, shy, but happily wrapping one arm around your shoulders. 'cringed so hard.'

'okay, lando norris.' you lean back, still laughing. 'okay. am i correct in assumption that you imply us being together will mean that we're winning this life?' lando nods, biting his lower lip. you smile softly, taking his hand in yours. 'i agree, then.'

lando fears his heart stopped. 'yeah?'

you lean in, brushing his nose with his. 'yeah.'

nevermind, his heart is fine. it's beating again, stronger than ever.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[teethkid67]

PAYDAY

aka a valentine for the lovely @itsnotmystic / @corvids-calling - fanart for stars fic of the same name, which you can read here !!! i really enjoyed this concept and wanted to do some art for it :3 hope you like it because i REALLY loved your work & i hope this shows that !!! HAPPY VALENTINES DAY !!!!

this is also a loose love-letter to the wonderful @arginnit 's crazy background-drawing-ability and style/skill at portraying environments . wadds your stuff is insane and i love it

happy @mcyt-valentines exchange !!!!

[0anonnymouslyours0]

hi there!

maybe a fluff with my favourite James Potter? i was thinking something about reader leaving a lipstick mark on James..

enjoy writing, kisses:*

james my beloved, i want to kiss him all over <3

james is technically supposed to be leaving for quidditch practise... technically. but, instead, you've distracted him. i mean, how could he not kiss you, when you exit the bathroom, ready for the day- with your lips painted a perfect red.

how could he not pull you over, begging for a kiss. of course, you oblige, because how could you resist james potter. its sweet, hes all giggly, cheeks flushed as you kiss. his hands are firmly placed on your waist, pulling you tightly against him.

"okay.. practise jamie, you have practise." you giggle, pulling back and resting your hands on his shoulders.

"i know.. but-" he says, squeezing your waist.

you giggle, leaning in and kissing his cheek, leaving a lipstick print.

"off you go." you say, neglecting to till him of the mark you left on his cheek. and patiently waiting to hear the reaction of his teammates when james arrives at practise.