#I have a thousand ideas and I want them all

[underanothername]

^ How to say you're entirely disconnected from your food source without saying you're entirely disconnected from your food source. Makes me wonder what they'll say when they figure out where eggs come from! Or that veggies are grown in - gasp! - dirt.

As someone who has both seen a cow from less than 10' and had extensive contact with ALL of their bodily secretions (including but not limited to blood, pus, liquid shit, amniotic fluid and rumen juice) I can testify that raw milk tastes delicious. But I'm also pretty damn confident that the cows that milk came from were free from TB and brucellosis - the most significant of the diseases that were historically transmitted through raw milk - and I knew what I was doing. That is to say, I 'understand the problem pasteurisation is solving' because I know the microbiology behind it, not because I'm scared of.. what? Dirt? Real life animals? Anything that isn't 100% sanitised and germ-free?

Don't get me wrong, pasteurisation is brilliant and absolutely necessary in most circumstances. It's saved hundreds of thousands of lives. I don't routinely drink raw milk, and I wouldn't do it at all if I hadn't milked the cow myself less than 12 hours before. Most people aren't in that position.

I don't know, perhaps the OP saw a cow that was particularly unhealthy and judged all cows by that standard. And I get it; cattle can often be messy, mucky, challenging, and beautiful. So is life, if you're doing it right.

And yeah, I'm probably having another autistic moment and taking this too seriously, but it worries me that so many people have no real knowledge of how food is grown and produced. It's hard to value something that you're so divorced from, and it leads to making bad decisions as a society. We owe our entire existence to six inches of topsoil and the fact that it rains, yet societies around the world are doing their best to fuck up both the topsoil and the water cycle.

And don't blame the farmers. It's a systemic issue. Most farmers I know want to fix the problems, not exacerbate them; but the majority of customers are only interested in the price of the product, and 'conventional' farming (ie. the high-input, fossil fuel- and chemical-intensive method that's only really been around for 80 years) produces cheap food. It's hard to do the right thing when that might lose you your business and your home. Things are getting better (in Australia at least) - there's way more support for regenerative farming than there was 20 years ago, and methods that were once seen as the delusional ideas of radical hippies are becoming mainstream. But there's still a long way to go.

[greengoblinswifey]

Transactional—Hwang In Ho/Front Man x Fem!Reader

summary— The Front Man offers you freedom in exchange for something you hadn’t expected and your decision leads to something you had no idea would happen. Based on this request.

warnings— usual squid game shenanigans, power imbalance, slight coercion, degradation, face fucking, strip tease, cunnilingus, degradation, ass slapping, hair pulling, praise kink, unprotected sex, cock warming, creampie, pregnancy, mentions of abortion.

a/n— I see you guys’ requests, patience🫶🏽more soon.

The Front Man slowly sipped his expensive whiskey, eyes focused on the monitors as he watched the Squid Games unfold.

Some would call him sick but he quite enjoyed watching the desperation and suffering of the players. It fueled him and he looked forward to new games everyday.

He chuckled at the stupidity of the players when majority opted for ‘one more game’ instead of just going home with the money they had accumulated. Their stupidity, his entertainment.

As he scanned them each walking up to push the X or O button, his eyes landed upon you. For a moment, his breath caught as he stared. You were ethereal, the most beautiful woman that had ever graced his eyes.

Now, he wasn’t even focused on Gi-hun anymore. His focus was on you. You infiltrated his mind and he needed to save you from the game before something terrible happened. Though, it wasn’t just his need to be your savior that fueled him. He was pent up—unable to remember the last time he stuck his dick in a pretty girl like you.

That night, he held an important meeting with the guards. An idea had came to his mind to spice things up a bit.

That night, he instructed the pink guards to kidnap you from your bed quietly, so as to not alert the other players, especially not Gi-hun who had become a friend to you.

“Bring her here tonight. I have a proposal for her,” he said to the guards, darkly.

That night, after much twisting and turning, you were finally able to fall asleep. Your slumber was cut short as you felt gloved hands clasp over your mouth. Your scream was muffled as two guards grabbed you but you quickly became silent feeling the cold barrel of a gun press against your temple.

“We’re not here to hurt you, just be quiet. Someone wants to see you,” one of them said.

Your heart beat faster in your chest as they led you out of the dormitory. Who wanted to see you?

They led you through the maze and through hallways you had never seen before, each step making fear course through your veins. You had no idea what to expect from whoever wanted to see you. Meanwhile, the Front Man watched through the monitors as the guards brought you to him, each step closer leaving him eager.

The large door to his personal quarters slid open and you were brought inside before the guards left without a word. Stood before you was a man in all black and when he turned around, your breath hitched.

He was tall, older and handsome. You cursed yourself internally for that being your first thought but you couldn’t help yourself. Anyone would think the same if they saw the man before them.

“Good night,” he greeted, his deep voice making you shiver. “Enjoying yourself?”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “Is that a serious question? And who the hell are you—wait, you’re the organizer of these games?” you asked, recognition in your tone.

“We’re not here to speak about that sweetheart but yes, any other questions you’d like to ask?” he said, stepping closer to you.

“Why am I here?” It was the only thing you could think to ask as he towered over you.

“As you’ve realized, I’m the organizer of this game. My name is Hwang In-ho and I have a proposal for you,” he replied.

You tilted your head and quirked your eyebrow, a thousand questions swarming your head but none being able to translate to actual words.

“The X on your uniform suggests you’re keen on leaving the game but since majority voted to stay, I have a different method in which you can leave.” He stepped closer now, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“To leave the game, you’ll have to have sex with me.” The moment the words left his lips your eyes widened in shock.

“T-to leave the game, I’ll have to let you fuck me?” you repeated.

“If that’s how you want to word it, but yes,” he retorted, a smile tugging at his lips. “It’s entirely your decision. You let me fuck you and you leave the game, you refuse and I send you back safe and sound.”

Safe and sound. You scoffed, he was sending you back there to die. Was it really your decision considering the situation you were in? You truly had no other choice. If you refused, you’d be sent back to continue the cycle of ‘one more game’ until you lost s game and died. You didn’t have much fight in you left, this was your only option and it seemed more plausible than going back to more than likely end up dying.

On the other hand, if you decided to take In-ho up on his offer, you would return home safe. You stared up at him, eyes flossing over his sharp yet soft features. He wasn’t hard to look at. In fact, you could picture him above you. You could picture him having those large hands all over you, his hand wrapped around your neck, his cock—

“You’re biting your lip,” In-ho said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Your cheeks heated as you looked away from him, he could probably tell what your answer was by your reaction.

“You can take a long warm shower and later, inform me of your decision,” he added.

He gestured to the bathroom and you walked inside meekly, your eyes landing on some new clothes neatly folded on the counter. He seemed to have it all planned out, you admired a man that knew what he wanted and went after it, you had to give him that.

Stepping into the shower, you allowed the warm water to engulf you and wash away the weight you had been carrying the last few days. You scrubbed yourself thoroughly, remembering how blood would splatter on your skin after a player had been shot. Thinking about the incident made you shudder, you needed to escape. This was the opportunity you had been hand picked to be given and you decided that you had to take it.

After a long shower, you dressed yourself in the clothes In-ho had laid out for you. It was a cute dress that hugged your figure. Strategic—but you weren’t mad at it.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, In-ho’s eyes landed on you. His eyes roamed your figure, not even being subtle about it.

“I’ve made my decision,” you said.

“Already? Well then, what is it?”

You sighed, telling yourself it was just this once and you truly had no other choice.

“I’ll have sex with you in exchange for my freedom,” you whispered, eyes dropping to the floor.

“Oh, don’t be shy sweetheart, you’re going to be my slut,” he murmured, “and say it louder. Use your voice as much as you can now, because by the time I’m finished with you, you won’t have a voice from how much I’ve made you moan.”

Your breath caught at his words but you couldn’t deny the way it made your core throb. “I’ll fuck you in exchange for my freedom.”

“Good girl. So obedient for me already. I’m going to have so much fun with you, a pretty girl shouldn’t be in this hell hole,” he cooed. “First, I want you to get on your knees and crawl to me.”

His request made your heart drop. It felt so degrading yet thrilling. Adrenaline and pure lust ran through you and your gaze locked on his as you went on your knees and crawled to him. You crawled slowly but seductively, watching as he adjusted himself in the couch.

When you finally reached his feet, his hands went to your cheek, caressing it. “That’s a good girl. Next, I want you to unbuckle my pants and pull my cock out.”

With shaky hands, you did as you were told unbuckling his pants and when you reached his boxers, you paused. The dent told you everything you needed to know—he was aroused. And by the looks of it, he wasn’t a small man. He lifted his hips, allowing you to pull his underwear down and you gasped as his cock sprang free, slapping against his abdomen.

You’d never seen such a pretty cock and you cursed the thought for infiltrating your mind even though it was true. In-ho was long and hard, surely to hit all the right spots deep inside you. You wrapped your hand around the base and bit your lip feeling him throb.

“Suck my cock and show me just how bad you want to get out of here,” he whispered, his tone dark.

With that, you took him into your mouth, feeling him stretch your jaw open. The sounds of his pleasure willed you on, and you began to move your head, sending him to the back of your throat, lost in the rhythm of pleasing him. “That’s it, just like that,” In-ho groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, urging you on.

The gliding of your tongue across the thick shaft sent shivers through him. You could feel his balls twitch, and his thighs tensed beneath your hands. You moved to trailing your lips along the side of his cock, before meeting his dark eyes that stared down at you. His chest was rising and falling with every breath he took, and you could tell he was trying to hold back from losing control.

“You’re so good at this angel, fuck, so dirty.” You moaned around his cock, then took it out of your mouth to spit on it. Sticking your tongue out, you looked up at him as you slapped his cock against it and he held your hair in response, his head tipping back.

With his fingers in your curls, he dragging your mouth up and down his shaft before he started thrusting. You gagged but he didn’t stop, if anything, he sped up but only after giving you a minute to breathe. You could feel his cock twitch down your throat and you began massaging his balls, tears in your eyes as his thrusts increased.

“Swallow my cum like a good girl. Show me how bad you want to get out of here,” his deep voice said.

You took him to the back of your throat, and stroked what didn’t fit as you felt the salty taste of cum fill your mouth. Without hesitation, you swallowed, humming around his cock and sending jolts of pleasure through him.

Pulling you up by your hair, he kissed you, savoring the taste of his own release.

“You did well. I’m thoroughly impressed,” he chuckled.

He pulled you off your knees, his hands roaming your sides and caressing your curves before he squeezed your ass.

“Strip.” His voice left no room for disobedience and you did as you were told, slowly and seductively ridding yourself of the clothing he had generously gave to you.

His dark gaze drank in the sight before him and by the smirk on his face, he was utterly impressed. As he stood up, he held under your ass, hoisting you against him and walking with you to what you assumed to be the bedroom.

It was dimly lit and large but you had no time to admire it as he threw you on the bed. “Let’s see if you taste as delectable as you look.”

His lips pressed against your abdomen, trailing kisses until he reached your clit, spreading your legs and kissing further and further.

“You’re soaked, so wet for me,” he murmured, using his tongue to collect your wetness and spitting it back onto your pussy.

A soft moan escaped your lips, the feeling of his warm mouth on your pussy the best thing you'd ever felt these last few days.

“Your moans are so sweet angel."

He dived in, flicking his tongue on your clit before bringing it down to your leaking hole and licking back up. His grip was firm on your thighs, spreading them wide as he continued. You couldn’t believe the utter pleasure you were feeling, he was so skilled with his tongue having you squirm underneath him and moan so loudly, you feared the guards would hear.

His tongue was practically inside you, tonguing you and moving back up to suck on your clit. As his movements increased, the coil in your abdomen grew tighter, ready to burst.

“Cum on my tongue beautiful, be a good little slut.” A loud gasp left your lips and your body lifted from the bed as he practically took your soul and you squirted onto his face, soaking him. He slurped you up like a starving man and you squirmed under his touch, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum and you taste just as good as you look,” he panted.

Feeling bold, you pulled him up into a kiss, his mouth soaked in your juices. His head moved down to your full breasts, suckling and moaning as your fingers tangled in his silky hair.

"So eager sweetheart. Beg me to fuck you, let me hear how bad you want to leave this place," he teased.

"Please In-ho," you whined, "Please fuck me, I want your cock so fucking bad."

Swiftly, he sank into you, but halted, allowing your tight pussy to adjust to his size.

“Shit,” you moaned, as he took your breath away, “you’re so fucking big.”

“I know baby, but you better take it like a good girl if you want to leave,” he whispered, reaching down and rubbing your clit to ease the tension.

As you adjusted, he slammed into you, burying his cock to the hilt. Your moans filled the kitchen as he began moving at a pace that had your toes curling and your fingers gripping the sheets.

With how he was pounding into you, your pussy surely would remember the shape of his cock. You could feel him deep inside your cervix his cock twitching and your pussy throbbing. His large hand snaked around your neck as your foreheads touched, small trickles of sweat mingling. He worked his hips into you, your mouth in an ‘O’ as you breathlessly moaned with him slamming into you.

“You feel fucking amazing, best pussy I’ve ever had,” he panted.

You cried out in response and he pulled out his cock, slapping the heavy tip on your clit making you jolt. As soon as it made contact with your clit, you squirted, your juices spurting all over his cock. He slipped back in and as you tightened around him, you felt something warm and sticky fill you up.

"This pussy feels too good not to cum inside. Fuck, don’t move, I'm not finished with you yet."

He flipped you on your stomach and sank into you from behind, slapping your ass as he did.

“This ass,” he moaned, “you should see how good you look from this angle.”

His hips snapped against your ass, pounding you as your back arched deeper. You whimpered loudly and did your best to please him, slamming your ass back against him, his cock brushing that sweet spot deep inside you.

He gripped your curls, using it as an anchor to slam into you faster and harder.

“God, you’re clenching around me so tight, cum on my cock,” he moaned.

You buried your face into the bed, crying out as you shuddered and squirted around him, your arousal dripping down to his sheets. With one last powerful stroke, you felt something warm and sticky fill you up again.

He pulled out slowly, a deep moan escaping his lips before he collapsed on the bed beside you. He pulled you on top of him, plugging your pussy with his cock, not letting a drop of his cum go to waste.

“You did so well. You made a good decision,” he whispered in your ear.

For the rest of the night he held you close with his cock buried deep inside you. By morning, you were too sore and fucked out to even move.

You sat up in bed as you heard the door open, watching as In-ho approached you with breakfast. Softly, you thanked him and began eating, unable to make eye contact after the night you had with him.

“As promised, you can leave the game tonight. I’ll give you some cash and my contact so we can—keep in touch.” As he said those last words, his eyes fell to your bare chest.

Later that night, a deep sudden sleep took ahold of you without you being able to fight it. In your slumber, In-ho kissed your forehead, allowing the guards to take you off the island and back home with a wad of cash he generously gave you. He knew he’d eventually see you again but he hadn’t expected it to be for a completely different reason than what he had in mind.

Sunshine peaked through your window, shining on your face as you slowly opened your eyes. Looking around, you realized you were back home and in your own bed. In-ho actually kept his promise. Your eyes widened at the brief case of cash that lay on the bed beside you. For the first time in your life, fucking a man actually benefited you.

For the next couple weeks, you paid off whatever debts you had and made upgrades to your life. You earned that money and you’d spend it however you saw fit. Your happy streak didn’t last long though as each morning, you grew sicker and sicker.

It was terrible, you were barely able to eat as even the smell of food had you dashing to the bathroom and bending over the toilet, vomiting.

You weren’t sure what was wrong with you so, you decided to pay a quick visit to a doctor. Your doctor ran a variety of tests and informed you that you’d be given your results in a few days.

The days passed in a blur of overwhelming fatigue and nausea. If the games hadn’t killed you, this definitely would.

Finally, you received a call from your doctor about your results.

“Congratulations!” she beamed over the phone and your eyes furrowed in confusion. “You’re pregnant, just a few weeks along.”

The phone fell from your hands and you beard the muffled voice of your doctor asking if everything was alright. You were pregnant. Having only had sex with one person a few weeks ago, you knew exactly who the father was—Hwang In-ho.

You didn’t know what to do. A life was growing inside you, a life you weren’t sure if you wanted to keep or nurture. Absentmindedly, you dialed the number In-ho had given you. After just two rings, you heard his deep voice answer.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been waiting on your call,” he said, a smirk evident in his tone.

“In-ho, I-I’m pregnant,” you spat out.

There was a silence on the other end before he spoke again. “You’re pregnant? Shit, I should’ve known.”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” you snapped. “You came inside me twice and had your dick in me all night. What did you think was going to happen? Now, I’m stuck with something I don’t know what to do with.”

He sighed and paced his quarters. “Listen to me. It was never my intention to have that happen, trust me. But whatever decision you make whether to keep the baby or not, I’ll support you. In fact, I’ll be at your apartment by tonight.”

His words provided a sense of strange comfort for you. Having him over would give you all the answers you needed. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to keep the baby or abort it. None of this was supposed to happen, you fucked him to escape the game, not to have him impregnate you.

“Okay In-ho. Thank you for being understanding, I’ll see you tonight.”

After hanging up, you sat on the new expensive couch you had bought using the money In-ho gave you. Your life had been a roller coaster the last three months, but somehow, In-ho’s words and actions was the calm in the face of the storm. In some twisted way, he was perfect. And you knew if you decided to keep the baby, he would be the perfect father.

[lumillsie]

ೃ⁀➷ glass shattered on the white cloth ੈ✩‧₊˚

se-mi x gn!reader

a/n : I was originally only going to write the last scene and make it a fluff piece with a hint of angst as the request said, but I feared it wouldn't satisfy the angsty-fluff part 🙏 that being said, maybe did too much in the angst part but trust its a fluffy ending.

fear had infiltrated your very bones and made a home of your skeleton the very moment that chemical agent sent you to sleep in that polished, luxurious vehicle you found yourself in on the night you were brought to this hellscape.

you began to think you couldn't feel it anymore — that you truly succeeded in numbing yourself to it.

the sight of her — cornered against the ivory tiles of the wall as thanos' nameless sidekick slithered close to her in all of this unbidden chaos, made you realise that you were not numb to fear. your body stilled at the sight, and your eyes darted around the room in a desperate attempt to locate something you could use to incapacitate him. you thought of him as hyena-like from the moment him and the purple-haired rapper he trailed behind first approached you and the girl who'd taken you under her wing. you had no idea how spot on your assessment was until this very moment.

you knew she was going to die if you didn't succeed in wrestling that silver fork out of his hand, and all thoughts of self-preservation abandoned you at the thought of her lying in a pool of her own blood.

as you made your first step, a figure on the top of the tallest bed caught your gaze. min-su tossed his bottle on the top of nam-gyu's head, allowing it to break into a thousand of pieces and cut into the other man's skin. se-mi saw her opportunity to sink down and grab a shard in her hand and lunged at him. you made your way closer, the rowdy noises of violence concealing your quiet steps and grasped a shard in your own hand carelessly, as your skin screamed in agony.

he over-powered her, and he was about to slit her throat on the spot. you were no murderer, of course not — you could never willingly, knowingly take a life. but in that moment, you knew only one of them would live. and it you knew that it needed to be her. there was no time for hesitation, so you didn't.

he was grasping at his throat as pools of crimson spurted down his neck and onto the pine green tracksuit. the white number 124 on his breast was drenched in liquid. the same liquid that coated your shaking hand and the shard that slipped its grasp the moment you saw he was no longer moving.

his eyes were empty — you imagined yours were too. you wanted to cry, you wanted to scream, you wanted to rub your hands over and over again until there was no trace of his blood ever having dripped down onto them.

"we need to hide. now" she proclaimed urgently, her unmarred hand grabbing your soiled one. you let her pull you under one of the beds as she nestled in close to you, hopeful that you wouldn't be discovered before the violent event came to its conclusion. you could see now that she was shaking too. you allowed her to keep your hand in hers, and prayed that you'd both remain undiscovered.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

the water rushes down from the faucet as red pools towards the drain. it doesn't look as thick anymore. it almost looks like wine now. se-mi's watchful eyes rest on you as you scrub the remainders of nam-gyu off your moist skin.

"I didn't get a chance to thank you, last night. you saved my life" she breaks the silence as her hands sink into her pockets. "if you hadn't done what you did... he would have killed me." you know the realisation is difficult for her too. if it weren't for a shard of glass, she would be dead now. the shards of glass shattered across the bedding reminded you both of what happened the night before when you crawled out from underneath the springs of your bed.

"so did min-su. he threw the bottle. I just..." you trail off, the words almost unspeakable. "I made a choice." you decide that's the right thing for you to say.

"I'm glad you're still alive." you declare, and if you were anywhere else in the world, it would sound strange and morbid and nothing like a declaration of affection. she understands what you mean. "I'm glad you're still alive, too" she says it back, and with her words a tinge of light makes its journey back into your eyes. a chuckle of relief escapes you, and soon enough you've both burst into giggles as hysterical tears drip down onto your cheeks.

the sight of the man you killed may return to haunt you in the night — but during the day, your thoughts are consumed by her. you want it to stay that way.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

your hands are gentle as you press the water-soaked cloth to the gash on her hand. the glass left its mark on her too — as did nam-gyu's attempts to bring her life to an untimely end with the work he lifted from thanos' neck.

"stay still." you beg her, as you tear off a piece of the bedding to wrap her her hound. you make sure to shake it first, as tiny fragments of glass shattered across the floor. your movements are precise, and yet you're careful not to cause her anymore pain. God knows she's experienced too much of it recently.

"you've been holding out on me. could've gotten into a fight with that ass on day one if I knew you were going to patch me up" se-mi teases as she does her best to stop moving while you finish tying the cloth around her palm. you roll your eyes, but you can't stop the edges of your lips from curling up into an amused smile. "I guess it never came up" you answered with the same tone of voice, your mouth making a 'pop' sound as you drawled out the last letter.

"we should go see that band you like, when we get out." she remarks almost unexpectedly, and you find yourself caught off-guard. "you remembered that?" you pose the question, your eyebrows slightly lifting. "of course. I remember everything you've told me." she responds, and you know now that something really has changed between the two of you. before, she looked out for you — but she was sarcastic, reserved, almost distant. now she's itching to lean closer to you, and you know you'll let her.

"we can get ready together, wear matching jackets." you answer her proposition, as your hand finds hers this time. she holds it tightly, her thumb rubbing gentle circles into the soft skin. "we can." she agreed.

"if we're lucky enough, we can take min-su with us... and visit the nice old lady who invited me to her place for dinner." you add, a renewed hope forming in your bones. it's infiltrated you farther than the fear could. she nods at that, with an expression of genuine joy on her face.

the sight of it fills you with affection — and with courage too. you lean forward until your lips reach hers, and she places a hand on the back of your neck. as you pull apart, you make a silent promise to yourself. you'll get her out of there — and you'll do your hardest to get out too.

a/n : and that's it for my first fic in this format! I intended to spend more time on it but something came up and I wasn't able to dedicate as much time as I wanted to for it, but I'm still happy with how it turned out. as always, tagging more characters for maximum visibility but I only tag characters I write for, so you can feel free to request any of them 🙏 thank you so much for your time and let me know if you have any feedback or constructive criticism 🩷

[ellysdreamworldd]

ℋᴏɢᴡᴀʀᴛs ᴅʀ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

✩°｡⋆✧･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✧⋆｡°✩

𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞: elena [...]

𝐚𝐠𝐞: 14 (starting 4th year)

𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞: gryffindor

𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫: 1994

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: muggle born

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐝: yew wood, dragon heartstring core, 11 inches and medium flexibility

𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒖𝒏𝒂♥︎

✩°｡⋆✧･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✧⋆｡°✩

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲:

i am an italian transfer student in Hogwarts and i moved with my family from Rome to London during july 1994 because of my mom's job, so i'm starting out at Hogwarts on my 4th year. Both of my parents are muggles and so is my older sister, so i am the first witch of the family. (not very creative i know but i didn't want to go through all the trouble of creating myself a new family, also because It would honestly feel weird to me and i wouldnt be able to bond with them, so my family in my dr is very similar to the one in my cr)

✩°｡⋆✧･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✧⋆｡°✩

𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚:

I started my education at an Italian wizarding school called Celestia (yes, I invented it), located in the alps. Celestia is a much smaller school compared to other european institutions such as Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, or Durmstrang, and only a few students attend it since most people prefer to enroll in more well-known and popular schools. However, despite its smaller structure and student body, Celestia is an excellent school that provides a full and in-depth education to young wizards and witches. However, there are some drastic differences compared to Hogwarts: for example, Quidditch is not played due to the mountainous land and the lack of players. Instead, students receive consistent physical training in disciplines such as boxing (absolutely didn't script this because i wanted to be able to punch people properly), martial arts, sword fighting, archery, and flying courses. These flying lessons include aerial tricks, races, and obstacle courses to improve reflexes and speed, so that if i ever decide to start playing Quidditch i'm perfectly qualified for it. Moreover, the students are not divided into houses of any sort. There are also some slightly different subjects: in addition to the core subjects (astronomy, herbology, history of magic, potions, charms, defense against the dark arts, and transfiguration), Celestia offers unique electives. These include healing, wandless Magic (I wanted to be cool), enchanted artifact crafting, enchanted cartography, latin and magical linguistics (i stole these ideas from @jadeshifting), along with alchemy, divination, and ancient runes. The school also provides an Apparition course for third-year students and older (which I obviously took so i'm able to apparate). Students at Celestia often go on wilderness survival trips in the mountains, where they put their classroom knowledge into practice. Additionally, Celestia has one of the largest libraries in the wizarding world, located underground. This library contains thousands of books, including ancient Latin texts, many of which remain untranslated (students often attempt to translate these texts themselves, hoping to discover secret spells) and dark books containing forbidden spells. Celestia places a significant focus on Defense Against the Dark Arts. For example, students are taught to resist the Imperius Curse starting from their first year (I wanted to be able to do that) and often engage in both physical and magical (wandless too) dueling. Overall, Celestia is an underrated school that offers a superior education compared to most, thoroughly preparing students for the challenges of the real world. (in conclusion, i'm stronger, smarter and more knowledged than anyone at Hogwarts because i have main character syndrome)

✩°｡⋆✧･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✧⋆｡°✩

𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐇𝐨𝐠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬:

since when i shift it's going to be the first day of the 4th year, i'm not going to know anyone in Hogwarts (don't even know why i'm doing this to myself since i can't socialise), but my aim is be to be a part of the golden trio (soon golden quartet) & that's why i scripted me and Hermione are in the same dorm along with other 2 random girls (she NEEDS a girl best friend guys and that's what i'm for). I guess i just want to actually get to know the characters before being friends with them cause it would honestly feel weird to shift for the first time and be friends with people i've never seen before like what if i don't even like them.. so yeah. I don't have an s/o either, because like i said i want to get to know people from the start and let them get to know me, so i'll just be with whoever i like (not scripting they like me back cause i need to check my rizzler skills).

✩°｡⋆✧･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✧⋆｡°✩

i hope you enjoyed this and if you're shifting to Hogwarts too i'd love to have some moots⁠♡

[unknownogre]

They say it’s for the betterment of the world. That I’m not a prisoner…that I’m free to wonder in between moments of recovery. Still…this hospital is a prison and I am the most important patient. I am the perfect match for everyone on the planet. My blood, my organs…not a single body will reject them. I’m kept here by the Hero’s league. This is my ‘post’ after registration and trying to do good to help the world, I don’t know what I was thinking.

Do I make money? Not enough. I’m told it is my duty to give and as a member of the Hero’s League that I’m doing my part so wealth shouldn’t be a deciding factor. I’m also blessed with an insane healing factor. They can pull organs out of me once a day as long as they are careful about which ones. If it is the heart, I need a few days to recover. I can’t work out because no matter what the organs are new when they regrow. So even if my arms are stronger, my lungs are new, my heart…its new. I can’t train them to work more efficiently, I can’t get stronger. I suppose that is their plan.

I don’t pick, its congress, house reps…politicians that affect laws that govern how the Hero’s League work. Hell my organs are in the founding members as well. Entire medicine lines have been developed on my blood alone. I’d be worth billions if I held any control over my parts. I’m just worth thousands not that I even get to spend that much. No vacations, no time off…no rest.

…I want to feel better about this. I hate it. If I don’t make money from this, then I’d rather be helping the poor and children. I’m not though. I’m helping fund the League and their greed. Why give me what I’m due when they can just lock me away.

…I want out…I WANT OUT! I WANT OUT!

Then there was a faint explosion…well the first one was faint. The subsequent ones got louder…and closer until the floor shook. I could see smoke billowing from the side of the hospital. I’d was worried for a second but then I realized that the only people here are rich politicians and their families. I can’t be bothered to care anymore. I was just standing by my window, looking upon a city I was ‘saving’ but couldn’t live amongst. If I’m lucky the building will do so much damage to my body I’ll be allowed the sweet release of death…but I doubt I’ll be that lucky.

I could hear fighting in the hall, yes they had guards around me all the time. Said it was for my safety but it has been ten years and no one tried to attack me once…so I was convinced they were put there to make sure I didn’t run. How dare I dream of living on my own right?

I’m curious now as I take a position opposite the door. I wonder what is going on. I know nothing. I don’t have news, or social media…I’m a phantom in this city. A mere whisper of a legend that no one is sure exists. Civil war in the Hero’s League? Random attack on a politician here and I’m to be taken hostage so they can get their freedom? I have no idea. I don’t care really.

“This is the room���he has to be here!”

It was an alto feminine presenting voice. Rather lovely if you ask me. I hate the nurses here, they keep sending in ones they think are ‘pretty’ so I bond with them and want to be more compliant, but their eyes are all the same…distant. They were acting, all of them were acting. No one wants one sided love…I took what I could get but I knew it was empty. I wonder if Sarah survived the initial assault? The door was ripped off the hinged and there was a woman standing nearly seven feet tall with arms and legs like tree trunks covered in Kevlar body armor. She looked DOPE. She stepped aside though and a pair came past her. A man and a woman with themes of purple black and blue in their ‘armor’. The woman floated surrounded by a purple energy and the man had a million different blades all over his body.

“We’d like you to come with us. We are From The Dark League.”

I sighed and just grabbed a water bottle and opened it looking to them. The large woman was looking nervous and the man with the blades looked impatient but the magical woman looked calm.

“Why? Is going with you better than staying here. This cage is gilded ya know?”

I took a sip and the man looked me up and down and then turned away to stand with the large woman by the door. I wasn’t sure if they were a couple or not, I guess just minions. Hell, I don’t know why I’m thinking about such things.

“Well, we know of you and your situation. We’d offer help. In exchange for harvesting your organs once a week, we’ll pay you obscene amounts of money and make sure you are safe. You’ll be under contract for a duration and once that duration is up you’ll be free to do as you choose. How does that sound?”

This woman, this wonderful Witchy woman just said perhaps the most wonderful words I’ve ever heard in my entire life. I was just about to agree too until the wall near where I stood was smashed to bits and the leader of the Hero’s League called Justice stood there in his suit of white and gold. He could fly, was immune to bullets and most physical damage and the only reason there was still crime was because he couldn’t be bothered to actually stop it anymore, I made him more money than he knew what to do with.

“Stop right there Morticia…you won’t take him and I’ll paint the sidewalk with your blood in order to keep him here.”

There was no more show huh? No kind of sympthay. I get it, he’ll kill to keep me here and I don’t know. I thought apathy was my existence, but there was something to be said for the show, the fake emotions. I could pretend that I was doing this for the right reasons, that I was helping. No! I was getting angry. I was a pawn for too long…and as Morticia fired off a few impotent blasts my heart started to hammer in my chest…

…what was this I was feeling. Aside from the pent up rage of a decade of torture and solitary confinement. I felt something from Justice. Something familiar…my eyes locked on him as he approached the increasingly desperate woman. Her minions came in but where brushed aside…no they were killed right away. Not yet, he was going to make an example out of her.

“NO!”

I shouted and held out my hand…Justice stopped cold. I could feel it. I held his heart. No…no it wasn’t his heart it was mine. I HELD HIS HEART IN MY HAND! It was mine, it would always be mine. Sure it adapted to be in his body…but it was mine. I don’t know when he had the surgery. I never knew who got what and when. Still he had a bit of me in him and I had control.

“You don’t get to keep me here anymore! I’m SO sick of this. I don’t care if I’m helping rich assholes stay alive longer than the gods want. LET THEM DIE! You don’t help children, you don’t help the poor which is what I SIGNED ON TO DO! YOU LINE YOUR POCKETS BECAUSE OE ME! I HATE IT! I HATE ALL OF IT! You know they offered me money, protection AND freedom. Not to lock me up and rip out organs from my body, which they very well could do. NO! These ‘villains’ are going to treat me better than the heroes ever have.”

Justice looked at me and for the first time anywhere I saw genuine fear in the so called hero’s face. I was drunk in that moment. I loved this. Do villains get to feel like this all the time? Or maybe the really powerful ones do.

“Please…don’t. I…I’ll give you more freedom okay. More money too…just…”

Why wasn’t this working for him. I had him under control for life…no not for life. Then he’d really lock me away, keeping me sedated for a long as possible. My body will adapt eventually to the drugs, but  then he’ll just rip out organs while I’m awake. I can see it behind the fear. The rage he has.

“Sorry my friend. I don’t think you have a better counteroffer.”

Then I closed my hand in a fist and instantly I saw blood come from his eyes and mouth and he just fell over to the side. I walked over to help the man with the knives get up and I dusted him off.

“Morticia, consider me under your protection and employ. I am going to ask for something right off the bat, if you don’t mind. I want a beer so bad I dream about them every night. Can we go get a drink somewhere? I’m not trying to hit on you but something tells me you are wonderful company.”

I offered her the crook of my arm so she could pull herself up to stand. I could see a whole range of emotions play across her face as she looked at the fallen hero just dead on the floor. I looked at him as well…oh I was giddy. I had suppressed myself so much that I couldn’t feel. Now just letting my emotions out I could feel so much power, I had so much control over so many politicians now.

“Or maybe I would like a better contract. I’d like to join the Shadow League. Seeing as now I have dirt on politicians, war lords, despots…so many people have a vital organ of mine in them. We’ll get so much money. Eventually they’ll all die but then we can burn that bridge when we come to it. Also we’ll need to workshop a name and costume for me. Who ever does yours I would love their number.”

Morticia just started to laugh at this completely improbably situation before her and she hoisted herself up using my elbow. She pulled me close just resting her other hand on my arm. She looked truly amused and happy with the outcome. The large woman patted me on the back smiling as well. I liked them already. These were my true heroes. My saviors that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to truly repay.

“I think…you’ll be a wonderful addition to the Shadow League. I think we are about to enter a new age of villainy, if I dare be so optimistic.”

The funny thing about villains. They don’t really want to do evil. They are beat and broken people rebelling against a system that hurt them. I will force change…and when I make them happy they’ll stop being ‘evil’. Most of them will anyway, some are just sick and twisted…and they’ll be put down. The reasonable ones though…gods I’m using evil to get so much good done in the world. A new age indeed.

“I think you should dare.” I offered her a smile. She had me floating at this point…this was so cool. GODS I can’t wait

You're a literal universal donor for a superpower, that even your organs are compatible. And right now, the villains have decided to hit the hospital.

[dock57]

[Another day, another Monkey Wrench ramble! Decided to go back to EP 2 again this time. Despite being one of the shorter episodes, it has some of my favorite moments between Shrike and Beebs.

Anyway, the thing I want to talk about today is the some of the world building to the Monkey Wrench universe. In general, Monkey Wrench has such an awesome world building to it. Its very open, but has some rules and expectations it follows.

One of my favorite things about this world? The idea of every Alien having a translator. Its such a simple thing to include, but when you start digging into it- it can say a bit about the character.

It took a few rewatches, but the idea that you can have a translator either internal or external? I just thought that was such a cool idea. I think most sci-fi concepts when it comes to different languages, either they already know and understand the alien, there is no language barrier, or if there is a translator, its usually another device or someone else doing it.

The idea that everyone has one, either internal or external, its such a simple but clever idea for not needing to fuss over the issue about language differences. Besides, where a galaxy has different languages, could be hundreds- thousands? Trying to learn them all would. Take more than a lifetime...

How nice would it be to just have one install and do all the hard work for you? I especially love the idea of just having an internal one installed- so you would not have to worry about it being damaged from the outside, or well, being in the way? Like when looking at Beebs, his translator is large. A nice size of equipment to keep maintained and not as compacted. Like think about how small computers can be compared to their first designs? Smaller and more compact always feel so much more manageable.

As I said before, I think even translator and what a character has can say about a character too. Especially this scene from EP 2. Beeb's personality and overall design, has this impression that Beebs' is well, a much simpler type of guy. He does not seem like the type to update anything unless, it really comes to the point it might need to be replaced. His translator and cybernetic arm are examples of this, why fix something if its not broke?

I also find that translators can tell about someone's wealth as well. As I believe that internal models are more expensive than external ones. It could be possible that Beebs' has an older model as well, but as Shrike also mentions, Beebs was also stingy getting a new one, which once again, adds to how Beebs tends to hold onto materials until broken, plus, coming off as a more simple guy- I don't believe Beebs enjoys complicated tech. He even has his acoustic guitar, free from technology itself to keep it simple and free from having difficult technical problems, unlike the Bucket itself or his cybernetic arm. Being stingy can also suggest that Beebs is looking out for his savings. As that not wanting to upgrade or wanting a internal translator to save on pixels. Although translators seems like to be a pretty important thing to have in this world, as it seems like everyone does have one, even when it comes to purchasing one, you also need to think what is affordable and works best for you. In Beebs' eyes, you don't need the newest one to have this function, just one to do its job which is enough.

I see in this world, that Translators can be use as a sign of wealth, where internal are more expensive and external ones are not. As for Shrike, who is definitely not a wealthy Alien by no means... He may have made the decision to get an internal one as a possible poor financial decision, as Shrike is clearly not responsible when it comes to money. He may have one to just have it and follow the trend of others- or he may have got his from L.A.W. as well as it could have been a requirement for L.A.W. members to have one, or a benefit of being a L.A.W. officer.

Whatever the case with Translators in this world, it is definitely has been something I been noticing more and more on characters in the show, major, minor or even background characters. The more I keep watching Monkey Wrench, the more I pick up on the world build and the little pieces, such as the translator, to build how its universe's function.]

[rascalentertainments]

Wish Granted Magic System (Part 2) ✨

In our first half, we covered Magnifico and Amaya's magic as well as Star/Cosmo's magic, so now its time for the grander scale! This way its a little more clear how wishes work as well as the star nomads.

The Wishes 🔮

• Like the canon movie, wishes are taken at the age of 18 or older. Magnifico can't take from anyone under that age because their desires are not yet finalized. Children's desires change a lot growing up, so there isn't anything to form into an orb yet. The adults wishes are more focused, so he goes after those.

• The stronger the person's desire, the more power it gives Magnifico. He's gotten so addicted to that power that he secretly eats some unimportant wishes when he's really desperate. (referencing the original idea)

• Magnifico can't eat Star since he's usually in a human form, and he can't technically destroy energy, only transfer it. So he's just going to drain all of Star's magic till he's empty. No one knows if Star will run out of energy and return to the sky, or just simply die. Not even Star knows how it will end for him...

• Amaya doesn't eat the wishes like her husband, but she does absorb a wish once a month. The rest she does by hand by making the potions with exotic ingredients.

• A person can have more than one wish, but the spell only works for their deepest, truest desires. And that other wish can't replace the one you've lost. It comes from a person's soul, so its practically life essence trapped in an orb.

• When a wish is taken, it slowly causes side effects in the person by stages: Drowsiness, forgetfulness, lack of motivation, depression, and the final stage is flu-like sickness until they die. Only Sabino has been able to fight off those latter symptoms by constantly keeping moving forward himself towards his dream.

• If a wish is destroyed, that person will have 1 week to live before all their life force is drained. A broken wish can restored with the proper spell, but it must be done before the week is up.

•When a wish is restored, all the life force is put back into them instantly and the sickness vanishes. They will even have a big burst of joy and energy for a few minutes.

• The reason that Magnifico couldn't take Asha's wish is because it already went to Star. When he accepted her emotional plea for help, the magic of her wish was given to him. Star is her wish now.

• Asha will have a new wish by the end of the story, since her original wish will be granted. Its a bit of a bittersweet one though.

The Star Nomads 🌟✨🌌

I've gotten a lot of questions on how the nomads work here, so here's your info dump! I did my best to keep it simple.

• The star nomads live in a special space called "The Stratosphere", which is a magical layer they reside in between the Earth and the deeper parts of space. They could go to Earth if they wanted to, but it takes a lot of magic and choose not to waste it. Only Star has managed to come to Earth with the help of Asha.

• The nomads have a different animation style from the humans. While humans are in a 2D style, the nomads are in a UPA" Style in space. (see the pic below for an example 👇) It serves a reference to the real UPA Studio that wanted freedom to create anything they wanted.

• These beings roam the galaxy finding new planets, systems and formations that fascinate them and want to learn more about their universe.

• Countless nomads have seen Earth and are curious about it, but not enough to hold their attention for more than a week. However, Our Star grew an unusual attachment that's lasted his whole life. So much that he wished he could be down there.

• They can't read, since there's no reason to write or read in space.

• Stars can age like humans, but they take a very long time to reach elderly age (talking thousands here). So they'll physically look like adults for a long time. In Star's case, he's only 18, so he still actually resembles the human teenager both physically and mentally.

• The stars look like the canon plushie when they're newborns, and slowly gain a human-esque appearance as they grow older. Most stars choose and want to have more cosmic like appearances and only slightly resemble humans. For Star, he actively chose a fully human looking form because of his love for Earth and humans. He gave himself additional features when he came to Earth to look more attractive for Asha.

• Regardless of how many stars are in a family, the younger stars separate from them at 15 to explore. When they turn 18, they choose a name for themselves that suit them. Most stars do take on names humans give constellations or certain stars in particular.

• Nomads don't really like to be in big groups unless they have to be. The closest is two stars that are mates. So Star trying to join them long term is why he annoys them. Some nomads can be cheerful, while others vary in emotional state.

• If they see someone under stress, they touch foreheads to calm them down. Its also a sign of affection.

• Nomads don't get too attached because the memories of their families start to fade away as they enter adulthood. So it won't hurt of they don't remember them. This is why they're mostly aloof with others. Star's been holding onto his memories as long as possible, which causing him emotional stress.

• There are no royal stars in this universe, so nomads are just ordinary in this instance. Its what they choose to use the magic for that makes any of them stand out, and it's only limited by their imagination. Star's magic basically run on the classic Disney style magic, which is why he loves to turn into animals and make things talk. This is also why Star wants to look like a prince or hero to Asha, so he feels like he can better enough for her.

• There are rumors of a star that can grant human's (or even other stars) wishes, but no-one has ever seen it. It may not even exist.....yet.

• Nomads court their potential mate with a song. If the desired mate sings along with them and the solo song becomes a duet, they become mates for life.

And that's the rest of the magic system! Thanks to everyone who's been submitting questions about the stars and the wishes of this AU! Stay tuned for more lore, cause next I delve into The Hamlet and more of Asha's side of this world. Including more about her family! (Especially Tomás)

@your-ne1ghbor @tumblingdownthefoxden @chillwildwave @jojo-ker06 @snackara @oh-shtars @natsuki208 @spectator-zee @starss-artss @thesafireartist @ishadow246

[risingsunresistance]

in a world where i only have one of these machines set up that sounds great, but if you link up more than one of them then you'll come into it with speed already built up so it wouldnt solve the problem of the button being hard to hit 😔

i'd heard about the new minecart mechanics and people launching themselves off ramps, but i wanted to see how practical it was for travel. used buttons so that the rails would go back to their off positions after i used them... but hitting the button is really hard once you get going kjhfkg

behold: the multidirectional centrifuge

[azure-faye]

i like this idea of a chubby darling/reader insert (the second POV has grown on me so much) both not believing they r being noncon’ed (bc re: insecurities. sorry girl, this is author projection dialed up to a thousand.) AND acutely aware of how they don’t want to be having sex rn with yandere but nonetheless. here they are! getting absolutely railed! wondering why Yandere is doing this to them! surely, they cannot… want me?! I must amend this situation, and quickly. i will whimper (sexily) that i do not want this, at all.

all the while yandere is. fuckin lost in the sauce. soooo pussy drunk they can only register the sounds that chubby darling is making and if—huge if!!!—they can hear and process chubby darlings words, er, whimpers really of s—stop, stop, i can’t, i can’t, no, no, no, i don’t want this please, please, please, stop stopstop—in their mind dick they just. aren’t giving enough pleasure to chubby darling. like, you feel so good. oh, oh this doesn’t feel good? you want me to stop? no, no, no, i can, i can make you feel so good darling, so, so, so fucking good, yes, yesyesyes—

basically: dumb (you 🫵) and dumber (yandere) but noncon! best combo, no notes (i have several notes. drafts even. this will become my bread and butter).

[babybearnation]

in the heat of your electric touch

⎇zane maloney x gn!reader - it's his first formula e weekend (oneshot) ⎇author's note: thank u fox for sending my own idea to me so i had an excuse to write it. this is legitimately so self-indulgent lol. (kofi for first formula e fic) ⎇content warnings: reader suffers with migraines and deals with one in this fic ⎇word count: 1.5k

The air seemed to buzz with excitement and anticipation. Cameras shot every angle of the paddock as media personnel and drivers and staff zipped back and forth between garages and the track and other areas that littered the small paddock.

Y/n had been in both the F2 and F1 paddocks before, but they'd never really gotten used to the pure chaos and busyness of them. Formula E's paddock was no different. A few people smiled at them as they passed, but no one really paid them much mind.

After all, why pay attention to the complete and utter rookie's partner, when you could pay attention to the complete and utter rookie?

Speaking of Zane, where was he? Y/n looks around, trying to spot familiar tattoos and a familiar blue & yellow polo. No such luck. Y/n sighs before unlocking their phone again. As much as they hated it, it made sense why Zane wasn't there - he was busy prepping for free practice one. Y/n supposes they'll see him later.

"What's with the frown, my love?" A familiar accent fills Y/n's ears as tattooed arms snake around their waist. They smile and turn their head slightly, catching sight of Zane's face.

"Just missing you, that's all." Y/n says, locking their phone and leaning back into his embrace. The familiar feeling of a race suit zipper digging into their back softens their anxieties. "You ready for FP1?"

"As ready as I'll ever be. You sure you don't wanna stay in the garage with my parents?" Zane asks, pressing soft kisses over Y/n's neck and cheek. They hum at the feeling, a soft smile filling their face before a sigh slips from their lips.

"It'd be an awkward first meeting, that's for sure." Y/n chuckles before pulling away from Zane's grip and spinning to face him. They lean forward and kiss him softly, only pulling away when someone coughs behind them.

A blue and yellow clad member of staff smiles apologetically at the pair and Y/n sighs, understanding that this is the moment where they'll have to say goodbye for over an hour. With one last soft kiss, Y/n allows Zane to leave. As he walks away, they call his name one last time, smiling when he turns back to face them with wide, hopeful eyes.

"Good luck, you got this!"

Y/n's eyes roam over the screen, watching the small section bars fill up to show Zane's progress through each one. Eventually, after finishing a complete lap without skittering off on that one dodgy corner every seemed to be struggling with, Zane places 20th. Not the quickest, but also not the slowest.

After a few extra minutes, the free practice session comes to an end and Y/n flicks the screen off, relishing the respite from the blue light. With a sigh, they fall back against the couch in Zane's driver's room, taking slow measured breaths.

The silence and stillness of the room allows Y/n to soak it in all. Zane hadn't made it to Formula 1, like he'd always wanted. But he'd made it Formula E, and he seemed so happy and at peace here. The team treated him like the future champion Y/n know he is and really, could they ask for anything more than that?

With another heaving sigh, Y/n sits up, eagerly counting down the minutes it would take for Zane to finish his debrief meeting and come and save them from boredom.

If Y/n thought day one of the weekend was chaotic, it had nothing on day two. Thousands of fans had poured into the stands to watch the twenty-two electric cars race around the streets of Sao Paulo. It made Y/n shiver with anticipation.

"You sure you wanna stay in my driver's room?" Zane asks, a mirror from the day before. His blue and yellow race suit sits snug on his frame and Y/n leans forward, tugging him into a hug. They sigh softly.

"I'll be okay. Be better for my head, anyways. Good luck, baby, you got this." Y/n says. Zane was due to be stolen away for qualifying any minute now. Free practice two had gone well - Zane finishing P20 once more - but qualifying was a whole different beast.

"Thank you, my love. I'll try my best for you." Zane says, gently pushing Y/n's hair back from their face. Y/n smiles and pecks his lips once before sighing when they spot familiar staff members over his shoulder.

"You could crash out of every race and I'd still happily call you mine, baby. Now go on, before we get properly interrupted again." Y/n says, smiling. Zane kisses them once more before walking off, turning back with a smile when Y/n yells good luck at him again.

With a weary sigh, Y/n heads over to Zane's driver's room, ready for some peace and quiet.

P19. Zane had qualified P19. Y/n is happy about that, despite the pained expression on their face . It's not last, and isn't that all that matters? Zane gives them a quick kiss on the cheek as he checks in on them before rushing off to head to his debrief. Not a lot of time stood between the end of qualifying and the beginning of the race and Y/n knew it'd be pretty minimal amounts of contact with Zane until after the race.

Y/n's head throbs slightly and they wince, laying back against the soft couch. With a shaky hand, they lift their phone up and quickly shoot Zane a message, letting him know that they're taking a nap and that he should wake them before the race.

No response comes after five minutes, so Y/n locks their phone again before sighing and closing their eyes. Just a small nap to hopefully get their migraine to disappear.

Hopefully.

Y/n feels blessed right now. The nap had shifted the migraine away and now they could watch Zane's first ever race in Formula E without constantly having to squint against the bright lights of the screen.

After the delay from Frijns' car not starting, the race was off and Y/n found themself constantly sipping from their drink, anxious and nervous about what was happening not only to Zane, but to all the other racers out on the track.

Y/n's migraine threatened to peek back into existence after watching Wehrlein's crash, but still Zane continued on, creeping closer and closer to the points with each lap around the Sambadrome. When, at last, he crossed the finish line in P12, Y/n couldn't help but tear up, hands clasped in front of their face.

Without thinking about their previous migraine or any awkwardness from encountering someone who didn't know about them, Y/n darts out of Zane's driver's room, eagerly scrambling to get to the pitlane, ready to greet their boyfriend.

As the cars pull up, Y/n spots the blue and yellow Lola Yamaha ABT - the only one to finish the race - and darts over, joining Zane's team and parents with a soft smile. No one seems to mind their presence, so Y/n waits for Zane to notice them as he walks over.

Zane smiles and thanks his team first before getting hugs from his family members. He's about to walk away when Y/n calls out his name, causing him to spin on the spot. He rushes over instantly, wrapping them in a tight hug.

"Y/n, my love! Did you watch the whole thing? How's your head? Are you feeling any better?" Zane fretfully asks, his voice muffled through his helmet. Y/n laughs and nods, cradling his helmet with both hands.

"I feel a lot better and yes, I did watch the race. I'm so proud of you, baby. So fucking proud." Y/n says, tears pricking the corners of their eyes. They remain faintly aware of the eyes on the pair of them but Y/n continues to smile softly at Zane for as long as he lets them.

At last he has to leave, his eyes relaying his frown as he slowly shuffles away to do his post-race cooldown and his debrief. Y/n smiles after him before turning to face his parents, a light blush on their face as they meet his parents' interested stares.

"It's nice to meet you two..."

Y/n sighs sleepily, pressing closer to Zane's side. Zane huffs out a soft puff of breath, tightening his grip around Y/n's waist.

"'M so proud of you, you know that, right?" Y/n sleepily murmurs. Zane kisses their temple, fingers deftly squeezing their side to show a small part of his love.

"I know. You're my biggest fan, aren't you?" Zane says. His voice is gruff with sleepiness and Y/n smiles softly to themself. Perhaps they should shut up and let him sleep, but just a little extra conversation wouldn't hurt, right?

"The biggest." Y/n responds. Zane chuckles softly before tucking Y/n even closer into his side. Y/n hums happily, eyes slipping closed as warmth washes over their figure.

"You're the best I could ever ask for, my love."

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[tucsonhorse]

This!! Every part of our actions in the real world is based on an underlying set of cultural assumptions, and when you go to a different place (either physically or in imagination) the assumptions that everyone around you has are going to be different to what you are used to. In a real world setting there are thousands of small clues to pick up on that you likely don't even know you're taking in, but in a setting like a D&D game you don't have all those background clues so you're going to make incorrect assumptions. Part of the DM's job is to be aware of those underlying assumptions in their world and tell you if the action you're about to take is contrary to them.

In the second tabletop RPG campaign I ever played we had a bit where we were dealing with Fae and in the Fae realm (non-D&D). The Fae Queen invited my character to join her for dinner and everything *I* know about Fae was shouting in my head that this was an absolutely terrible idea because the primary rule is that you DO NOT eat any food from the Fae realm.

So I, as my character, did my best to make an excuse for why I couldn't eat with her (without outright accusing her of trying to trap me there), the GM asked me if I was sure I wanted to say that, I responded with basically "uh, yeah" cause to me it was obvious, and the Fae got all bitchy and pissed off.

At which point I looked at the GM and was like "wtf?" and he told me she was pissed at me for refusing her offer of hospitality because it was rude. When I explained that everything I know says you never ever eat food in the Fae realm his response was "you can eat the food if you were invited into the realm" and basically left me backed into a corner of trying to mollify this seriously pissed off Fae when my character, who was a highly trained and knowledgeable wizard, would never have tried to avoid eating because *she* would have known it was safe. But the GM was basically like "you said it, too late now".

It pissed me off to no end and severely damaged my trust in that GM.

the thing about that dnd post is that like. ironically all the guys who are high and mighty about Normal Human Communication are failing to understand that implicit communication like 'are you sure?' depends on context clues and when you're making up a thing that isn't real those context clues don't actually exist. even if you have lovingly spent hours describing every part of a battlemap you might still have a different idea of it in your mind than your players do, because it isn't real, the only consensus reality built up is the one built up by the communication between players at the table. and of course i prefer that this kind of communication is done 'above-table' because i don't care about 'immersion' and instead enjoy collaborative storytelling--e.g. "if you do that, there's a good possibility that you'll die."

but even if that kind of 'immersion' is really valuable to you and you want to be making decisions as your character instead if for them--your character exists in the situation and they should know a lot about it and so you and the GM should still be actively working to establish consensus reality for those decisions to make sense in, e.g. "you've encountered this sort of powder before and you're pretty sure if it goes up in flames it'll be the sort of fire that you can't outrun". if it really matters to you that you're not told directly about consequenes because 'your character wouldn't know that', i think it's also fair to say that your character wouldn't be imagining a completely different reality to the one that exists and making their decisions based off that. no matter whether you take the 'writer's room' or 'actor' approach to roleplaying, clear and explicit communication about the situation is always the best way to make sure everyone has a nice time with their brain blorbos

[the-princess-of-loki]

Late

Summary: You were crying in a dark alley next to the club where your boyfriend was, regretting a lot of your life choices, when Loki finds you and shows you a new way to be loved.

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), a bit of voyeurism.

Why in the world did I think this was a good idea? I thud my head against the brick wall, tears running down my cheeks, ruining the cheap makeup I was wearing. I never wore any makeup, ever. But my boyfriend always complained about it -about everything, really- so I thought I would surprise him. I was such an idiot.

I still remember how excited I was that evening when I got to my flat with my new clothes and makeup. After taking a bath with patchouli oil as I felt, I didn’t know why, I needed some earthy scent on me; I dressed up with my new, black, leather, deep v-neck bodysuit, my new black mini-skirt and high boots. Even though I had watched a lot of tutorials on the internet, I still was nervous when I put on my black eyeliner, mascara and deep red lipstick. I had to reapply them a few times, but I was feeling sexy and confident when I left my flat. I knew I didn’t have the body to pull off that outfit. I had a pear-shaped body, my breasts were big, my stomach rounded and not flat at all and my thighs were…well, fat. However, I felt like I could seduce my boyfriend that night; like he would fall at my feet and would want to make love to me all night long.

I was a fool, clearly.

I took a taxi to the club I knew he was drinking with his friends. When I entered the club, I spotted my boyfriend immediately. I made my way towards his table where he was drinking and laughing with his friends. My steps were confident and sexy. Everything was going according to plan. Until I reached their table. As soon as I did, my confidence flew away. He took a side glimpse of me and started to laugh, mocking my thick thighs and my big breasts, supported by one of his girl-friends. I only stayed for some minutes before I left the club, humiliated and defeated.

That’s how I ended up here, in the dark alley next to the club, crying out of humiliation and self-loathing. I didn’t know what I was thinking or expecting, pulling this show off just for his entertainment. But if he didn’t like my attire, couldn’t he just pull me away and tell me, like he always did? God, I was such a loser. A pathetic, stupid loser.

I was surprised when I saw, through my tears, a dark green handkerchief with the word “Loki” embroidered in gold. I looked up to see the owner of such a fine piece of clothing and my breath got stuck in my throat. Long, wavy, black hair, deep green eyes, pale complexion, thin lips, square jaw: he was perfection incarnate. With a trembling hand, I grabbed the handkerchief he was offering me and wiped away my tears, although some of them kept falling down my rounded cheeks.

“My sweet flower, you shouldn’t cry for someone who doesn’t value you,” he said, a sympathetic smile on his lips. “You are worth ten times more than the idiot you just left inside. And, may I add, you are ten thousand times more beautiful,” a mischievous glint appeared in his green eyes, even when his smile was still kind.

“Do I- Do I know you?” I asked in between my sobs and my awe. He rested one of his large hands on the brick wall behind me, getting his lean but strong body so tantalizingly close to mine. I felt my cheeks getting red.

“In your darkest fantasies and dreams, sweet angel,” he smiled slyly. “I am Loki, God of Mischief and Stories. And I happen to know how bad it feels when someone makes you feel less than just because of who you are,” even though his smile remained a bit mischievous, his eyes showed a deep understanding and pain; one that I needed to remedy, no matter how desperately. “Those people inside the club? They don’t deserve you, my sweet flower,” he whispered the last part in my ear, sending shivers down my spine with his sultry voice. Then, he slowly moved his head back, letting his lips brush my skin until he was once again looking into my eyes. “Let me show you, angel. Let me show you how you should be loved.” It felt as if he was pleading for me to say yes, and how could I refuse? His allure was drawing me in like a moth to a flame, completely mesmerized.

My word got stuck in my throat, so I just nodded. Loki smiled -a true, genuine, happy smile- before he captured my lips in a hot, searing kiss. This was the kiss I had been dreaming about for decades. It spoke of desire, of love, of understanding. It was different from every other kiss I had ever received in my life. His arm sneaked around my waist -did I have a waist? I thought I had lost it long ago! His free hand rested on my nape, caressing my jaw with his thumb, as his lips moved insistently on mine. His teeth nibbled my lower lip and then his tongue eased the bite. That skilful tongue made its way inside my mouth and I was more than happy to let it. His tongue caressed and played with mine, causing a small -and embarrassing- moan to escape my mouth. Loki smiled and broke our kiss to look me in the eyes.

“You should always be kissed like that, my sweet flower. You should feel adored and worshipped with every caress and kiss. And I will make sure of it from now on, sweet angel of mine,” he whispered against my lips, making sure I felt and heard every word. A pleasant shiver ran down my spine as I looked at him wide-eyed. He leaned back a little to look at me directly in the eyes; his gaze was so intense that it took my breath away. “Let me show you how you should be loved. I only asked in return that you pledge your eternal fidelity to me,” he moved his lips to my ear. “I will show you heights of pleasure and ecstasy that you’ve never dreamed of. Just say yes, and I will take care of you for the rest of eternity.”

“Yes,” I managed to muster.

My heart was racing, my breath was uneven and I was completely mesmerized by his green eyes. Loki smiled and crashed his lips against mine once again. This time his kiss was feral. If my heart was racing before, it was out of control now. I lost every sense and I could only feel Loki. Loki’s tongue in my mouth; Loki’s arm on my waist; Loki’s hand going down my exposed collarbone; Loki’s hardness against my belly. If my feelings weren’t so physical, I would’ve thought I was dreaming. But he made sure that I felt everything and that I knew everything was real, that it was happening right there, on that dark alley next to the club I had felt so humiliated minutes ago. Loki’s kiss and touch were reverent and worshipping, just like he promised.

Carefully, his hand moved down the leather strap of my bodysuit, giving me plenty of time to stop him if I wanted to. Of course, I didn’t. He grabbed one of my breasts with his big hand, squeezing and kneading it carefully, knowing perfectly well how much pressure to apply to cause me that small amount of pain and big amount of pleasure. I had to break our kiss to gasp sharply and I saw him smirk in the darkness of the alley. His lips trailed down my jaw, the side of my neck, my collarbone and down the strap of my bodysuit, moving it to the side so he could kiss and lick my skin. He captured my nipple with his lips, sucking it gently, making me moan. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, thudding it against the brick wall. I bit down my lower lip, reminding myself that we were in a semi-public area. But when his teeth grazed my nipple, I lost it. The hand that was on my waist moved to my thigh, moving his fingers carefully on the inside of my flesh, moving my skirt up slowly. When he reached my core, he slowly moved two of his long fingers up and down my folds, feeling my wetness through the leather of my bodysuit. Loki carefully put back the strap of my bodysuit in place, covering my breast again before he kneeled in front of me. I let out a soft gasp at the sight. He manoeuvred one of my legs so it was resting on top of his shoulder and then moved the lower part of my bodysuit, revealing my wet core to his hungry gaze. He let out an appreciative groan before diving in as a starved man. He licked my folds and my inner lips before capturing my clit between his thin lips and sucking it. I bit down my lower lip to stop my moan from flying away into the city and one of my hands grabbed his silky, black strands; the other tried in vain to find something in the brick wall to hold on to. He started a deadly combination between his lips and his tongue, creating a pleasurable, sweet torture for my hardening clit. As if that wasn’t enough to drive me completely insane with desire, he added one and then two of his long fingers inside me, curling them to rub that wonderful spot that got me seeing stars. I couldn’t help but move my hips, grinding them against his mouth and fingers. I wasn’t going to last much, that was clear. Loki kept sweet-torturing my clit and pumping his fingers inside and outside of me until I came hard with a cry of his name. He rode me through my orgasm, prolonging it with his clear mastery of the subject, at the same time he licked and swallowed all of my juices. When I stopped shuddering with the intensity of my orgasm, he carefully rearranged my clothes before he rose to his feet again. His towering figure trapped me against the wall as he captured my lips with his in an all-consuming, passionate kiss. I could taste myself on his tongue and mouth and there was something utterly erotic about it. My hands clinged to his shoulder blades for dear life as we made out. However, a voice that I sadly knew pretty well interrupted us.

“Wow, I knew you were desperate, but a slut too? Damn,” my now exboyfriend laugh and his friends’ echoed in the dark alley. I looked down, my cheeks still flushed from the orgasm I felt minutes earlier. Out of nowhere, a black car appeared on the street, behind my ex’s back. Loki grabbed my hand and carefully lifted me from the wall, his free arm holding me to his side by my waist. He looked at me sweetly, but his face hardened as he stared at the douche blocking our path to the car.

“Insult her once more and I’ll make sure you can’t say another word for the rest of your futile existence. I dare you,” Loki warned in a cold tone, his eyes narrowed.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, fat-eater?” I felt the electricity in the air as soon as the words left the idiot’s mouth. Loki looked at me before his lips found my ear.

“Get in the car and wait for me there, my sweet. I’ll be there in a minute, I promise,” He gave me a sweet kiss on the lips before he pushed me softly towards the car. I took one last look at his imponent figure before nodding and making my way to the black car’s passenger seat.

The truth is that I didn’t dare to look as I heard some fighting and screams, but I knew for sure that Loki was going to stay true to his word. I didn’t know how, but it didn’t matter much either. I gasped when some minutes later, the driver’s door opened and Loki got in the car next to me. I examined him quickly, looking for traces of injuries, but he was as impolute as ever. He smiled sweetly at me and grabbed one of my hands, kissing my knuckles reverently. A shiver ran down my spine at the contact of his lips with my skin.

“I apologise for being late and letting those morons hurt you, my sweet flower,” he whispered, his green eyes locked on mine. “But I swear on everything I hold dear that from now on, you shall only feel loved, worshipped and cherished,” he vowed.

And, for some crazy reason, I believed him.

[cosmicbolognesa]

(English version) ''Am I go too fast, Angel?''

|| Another fandom I absolutely love is Good Omens, so here's a little interaction I came up with between Crowley and Freddie Mercury, where Freddie listens to Crowley vent about his heartbreak. I hope you like it! ||

𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖽𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖶𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖽𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗈 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖡𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖵𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗈 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎

"Six thousand, six thousand bloody years and counting," he complained once again, rolling over the grand piano. His glasses rested on the left side, and his sorrowful silhouette reflected on the instrument's surface. "Is that a short wait? How can he believe I'm 'going fast'? Do you think I'm really speeding things up? DON'T ANSWER THAT, I DON'T WANT TO KNOW. ACTUALLY, I DON'T CARE WHAT HE THINKS!" The demon didn’t even allow the other to speak.

"Darling," Freddie sighed, "I usually adore your visits during my free time, but tonight I have plans with Brian. So, I would greatly appreciate it if you'd stop writhing around and just tell me how I can help you, love." The man barely brushed the keys with his fingers, humming to himself and occasionally glancing at his friend. "Can I be frank with you?" He played a few notes before lowering the lid and focusing his gaze on Crowley.

The redhead shrugged and flipped onto his stomach, resting his head on his hands. "As if saying 'no' would make a difference. Shoot."

𝖮𝗈𝗁, 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾, 𝗈𝗈𝗁, 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖻𝗈𝗒 𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇' 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗁𝖾𝗒, 𝖻𝗈𝗒? 𝖲𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗆, 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖨'𝗆 𝖺 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗈𝗅𝖽-𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖻𝗈𝗒

"I want you to tell me, in your own words and WITHOUT resorting to insults, why it’s so painful for you that this little man asked to slow things down with his… relationship," the singer requested. Despite the softness of his tone, he tried to be firm and to get his dear friend to finally admit what he really felt.

"Friendly relationship, F-R-I-E-N-D-L-Y," Crowley emphasized. He huffed and flipped onto his back again, staring at the beautiful gold chandelier in Freddie's luxurious, spacious living room. "It's not pain, let's start there. It's frustration, for the record. Do you have any idea how much we've been through together? The hundreds of 'random moments' we’ve crossed paths and just happened to help each other out? I'm talking tons of lives, thousands of times where 'by sheer coincidence'—" he drew exaggerated air quotes with both hands— "we ended up in the same place to grab a drink or just chat." As he spoke, memories paraded through his mind at lightning speed. "For Satan's sake, I hate this. I hate feeling the stupid urge to get him those chocolates he loves—and taking the chance to deprive someone else of them, or tempt some overweight monk under a strict diet with a sudden sugar binge—just because I might run into him. I detest that those stupid imported tea bags remind me of him, you know? Every fiber of my being is sick of seeing some damn porcelain tea set and wondering if he has it in his collection."

He fell silent as he noticed Freddie simply watching him with a subtle smirk. Crowley knew that look all too well.

"Darling…" the man attempted, reaching to stroke the demon’s coppery hair.

"No, shut up. Say it, and I'll make you lose that stupidly magnificent voice of yours."

"Crow-leeeey—"

"YOU’VE BEEN WARNED."

Seeing the demon wouldn't relent in his stubbornness, Freddie simply sighed and busied himself brushing his fingers through Crowley's hair. "Why is it so hard for you to accept your fate? Love is, in my opinion, something worth suffering for—even every day of your life."

𝖮𝗈𝗁, 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗍 (𝖦𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋) 𝖮𝗈𝗁, 𝗈𝗈𝗁, 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍? 𝖢𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝗈𝗍-𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗅

"I’m NOT supposed to feel ‘love.’ That kind of thing is reserved for the other side and for you mortals. I once told William that, just as he was writing the ending of 'Romeo and Juliet.' You find pleasure in suffering; we’re only meant to add numbers below, not 'experience' things," the demon stated firmly.

"'Not supposed to' is very different from 'not wanting to'… and from what I gather, you’ve spent more time here with us than… you know," he tilted his head downward. "So who cares? Besides, isn’t the greatest act of rebellion to defy what’s imposed on you?" Crowley didn’t reply. That line of reasoning was one of the strongest reasons his friend would inevitably end up among his ranks someday. “Are you sure they didn’t send you from down there, man?” questioned the demon, a little more spirited. In response, Freddie tapped his nose lightly with the tip of his index finger before adding, “Don’t change the subject.”

𝖨'𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗈 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖲𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖮𝗈𝗁, 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾, 𝗈𝗈𝗁, 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖻𝗈𝗒 𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇' 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗁𝖾𝗒, 𝖻𝗈𝗒?

Finally, Crowley gathered the courage to turn around once more, looking at his friend from where he still sat atop the piano. “Is that what it’s like for you guys?”—his yellow eyes locked on brown ones—“To feel as if you’re thrown into a church, completely naked, then doused with holy water on every inch of your skin while a heavenly choir blares at full volume in the background, every time that person doesn’t seem to feel the same?” The other man laughed at the example, shrugging as he lifted the piano lid again and pressed a few keys. “Oh, darling, I don’t know how terrible that is for someone like you, but for people like me…” he offered a sad smile. “Well, it feels like your heart shatters into a thousand pieces, but you’d die without hesitation for a single look from the person you love. You’d give up anything material, surrender your soul and entire existence just to see them. Sometimes, it’s giving up your own happiness for that person’s well-being,” he explained.\

𝖶𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖥𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗒 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨'𝗆 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎

“These things are maddening,” he murmured in response to the singer. “In my existence, I’ve seen countless stories, all revolving around love, and let me tell you, they always end badly. Someone gets beaten, beheaded, burned alive, has their eyes gouged out and is left bald, or ends up jumping off the first cliff they see… or the guillotine. And I assure you, we didn’t invent this whole romance thing… though it’s cruel enough that maybe I should look into who patented it.”\

𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 (𝖨 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌) 𝖨 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨'𝗆 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌

For a few minutes, neither spoke, each lost in their own thoughts. Freddie played a melody to which Crowley—for once—paid no attention. In his head, he replayed fragments of the conversation they’d just had, struggling not to dwell on phrases like “your heart shatters into a thousand pieces” and “you’d surrender your soul and entire existence just to see them.” Hadn’t he already given himself over to the angel? Hadn’t he long since given up on staying away, ready to follow him anywhere in the world, just to keep seeing those blue eyes he loved so much? That silly little smile before savoring a dessert or trying a new dish at a local restaurant? Didn’t he count the days until their meetings, their teatime outings, or delivering a gift he’d “gotten just to annoy the other side and score points for Hell”? Didn’t he feel something warm and heavy in his chest every time he noticed the disgustingly pure and angelic aura Aziraphale seemed to emanate as he kindly helped every stranger on the street?\

(𝖲𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖻𝗈𝗒𝗌…)

He straightened slowly, hopping down and giving his friend’s shoulder a couple of pats. “You know, I think there’s a table free at the Ritz tonight; I should head off now. Say hi to May for me today and, if Roger calls, give him a whack in the crotch from me.” After their goodbyes, minutes later, Crowley was in the Bentley, driving home

Driving back in style in my saloon will do quite nicely Just take me back to yours, that will be fine (Come on and get it) Ooh, love (There he goes again) (He's my good old-fashioned loverboy) Ooh, loverboy

Twenty minutes later, he was at home, sitting in the chair in his study, dialing a number he already knew by heart. He only had to wait a few seconds to hear his voice, and suddenly, the world felt a little less disgusting.

What're you doin' tonight, hey, boy? Everything's all right Just hold on tight That's because I'm a good old-fashioned (fashioned) loverboy

"Hey, Angel. Got any plans for tonight?"

[rangersoup]

It’s time Seven Some Sentence Sunday! Thank you @lemonlyman-dotcom @nisbanisba and @emsprovisions for tagging me!!

Here’s a snippet from Turn and Burn! I’m going to try to get the first full chapter into posting order sometime within the next couple days.

Roja! You have to get on the trailer!” Carlos is begging now, as he pulls, trying to get the thousand pound animal on the end of the lead rope to yield to him, but she seems to have her mind made up. She is not getting on the trailer. He shifts his weight to one side, pulling her head over in an attempt to throw her off balance so she has to take a step forward. But instead of giving, she yanks her head back and rears; the rope burns Carlos’s hands as she drags him over and pulls free from his grip. She takes three steps back and stops, instinct telling her to run but loyalty making her stay.

Big wet droplets of rain begin to splatter the ground as Carlos collects himself out of the dirt. He reaches for the rope dangling from her halter, but she rears up a second time, snatching the rope away from him, narrowly avoiding capture. Lightning crackles across the sky, illuminating the black night and is followed by a clap of thunder that rattles Carlos to the bone.

“Carlos, we have to go!” Louisa calls, attempting to climb back out of the truck. She sounds substantially more sober than she had when he first shoved her into the back seat, but still drunk.

“Stay in the truck!” Carlos shouts over his shoulder as he grabs hold of Roja’s lead rope. This time she doesn’t pull away. He turns his full attention back to the mare. Her ears are pinned back, flat against her head and she’s pawing at the ground. She’s scared and angry. In the daylight the trailer is manageable, but at night it's a black hole, a tomb containing every evil terror the horse’s mind can conjure up.

Carlos knew this was a bad idea, every single part of him had screamed at him not to come, not to sneak out with his sisters and take Roja with them. Now he’s alone with two drunk sisters and horse that refuses to get back on the trailer. His dad would know how to get her to load, he’d know what to do, but he’s not here. He’s at home and he has no idea they’re out. He thinks about calling him, but if he does that, all four of them are dead meat. Roja rears again, and for a second calling him almost seems worth it.

Carlos grabs hold of Roja’s halter with both hands; she tries to pull away, but he stops her.

“Roja,” he says firmly, forcing calm into his voice, and the horse stops what she’s doing. “I need you to get on the trailer. I need you to trust me. Please.”

A second clap of thunder shakes the earth, and Roja flinches but doesn’t pull away this time. He takes hold of the lead rope once again and turns towards the trailer. The mare hesitates, and for a second he thinks she’s going to try to pull back again, but instead she lowers her head and follows him into the darkness of the trailer, trusting him over her own instincts.

No pressure Tagging: @annoyingcloudearthquake @carlos-in-glasses @reyesstrand @futures-tense @strandnreyes @reasonandfaithinharmony @heartstringsduet and open tagging anyone who wants to cause I suck and I know I forgot people!

[dc-sideblog]

Okay so I said more thoughts would go in the fic, and they did, here's the relevant snippet. Context you need to know: this comes from a Green Lantern Steph fic where she was recruited by Kyle right after Final Night and Batman firing her for the first time. Steph is crashing on Donna's couch because this was the era where she refused to go home to her mom

There was a knock on the window.

Kyle was floating out there. He waved sheepishly.

Donna sighed and pushed her chair back, opening the window to let him fly in. Kyle landed and his uniform vanished in a wash of green light and sparkles.

It occurred to Steph that this was the first time she had seen him out of uniform. Turns out Kyle was a leather jacket, combat boots, Nine Inch Nails t-shirt kinda guy. Who knew?

“So I’ve been evicted,” he said. “Something about not paying my rent for the past two months? Weird. Totally thought I had done that.”

“Uh-huh. So you got evicted and you came straight here? What exactly are you expecting, Mr. Rayner? My couch is taken.”

“Well,” he said. He leaned in, cupping Donna’s face. “I was hoping you wouldn’t want me sleeping on the couch.”

“That’s a bit presumptuous.”

“Is it? I seem to recall you—”

Steph cleared her throat loudly. “Reminder that I am here,” she said.

Kyle jerked back like he was shocked. “Oh! Hi, Steph.”

“’Sup,” she nodded. She twirled her fork around some noodles.

“Would you like some spaghetti?” Donna asked.

“I would love some,” Kyle said.

A minute later, he was sitting at the small table with her and Donna, steaming plates of spaghetti in front of them all.

“Thank you so much for putting us both up, Donna,” Kyle said.

“Yeah, thanks,” Steph agreed.

“It’s no problem,” she said. Her lips twisted wryly. “I’ve heard plenty from Diana about how often Hal was homeless. I expected it to happen sooner or later.”

“Homeless? We’re not homeless,” Kyle said.

“Oh? Then how would you describe it?”

“I’m just temporarily couch-surfing,” he said. “The starving artist bit is tired, Donna. I swear I’m not a bum. I’ll be out of your hair in a few weeks, tops.”

“I’d get over whatever hangup you have about the word ‘homeless,’ Kyle. It seems to be a fact of life for Lanterns. You’re gonna have to get used to it sooner rather than later.”

“The other Lanterns were all homeless?” Steph asked.

“Well, I don’t know about John and Guy, but Hal in particular always had trouble with stability. He was off-planet so often, you know. Didn’t give him much opportunity to hold down jobs or pay his rent on time. It was a recurring problem, especially towards the end.”

“He was a veteran, right?” Kyle asked. He twirled some noodles around his fork. “Was he in any assistance programs for that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so,” Donna said. “He mainly relied on his friends, Barry and Oliver. Oliver especially. But then…”

“Yeah,” Kyle said.

They ate in silence for a moment.

Steph thought about that. About Hal Jordan, as a homeless veteran. As a soldier, still fighting, just in a very different battlefield. Putting his life on the line every day out in space. Doing the unseen work that almost no one on Earth knew about, much less understood.

She thought about how Batman always talked about him. About what a failure he was, how incompetent he was, how reckless and brash and cocky and a thousand other negative things he thought about the Green Lantern. She thought about how much money Batman had to have. It was coming from somewhere, and it was seemingly limitless, to fund all that tech and gear of his.

Batman had never been homeless. Not a day in his life. Steph may not be trusted with his identity, but she still knew that for a fact.

She thought about his leadership of the Justice League. How they all fell in line with his ideas. How isolated Hal had been towards the end. All his friends dead, his city gone, his support network completely deteriorated.

She thought about the idea of a savior of the planet, the universe, sleeping on the street. She thought about Batman criticizing him at work the next day. She thought about Hal detransforming his uniform and becoming just another homeless veteran in a soup kitchen for dinner afterwards. She thought about Batman going home to gourmet meal and a bed with silk sheets.

She wondered if Hal had even considered going to any other member of the Justice League. Or if they had all been marked as Batman’s friends, not his, not safe options for help. Because Hal’s friends were dead.

And now Hal was dead.

She wondered how Batman talked about her, to others.

She wished she could have met Hal before he died.

At the end of the day Hal Jordan is just another homeless veteran. He does unpaid hard labor every day and gets belittled and blamed by the 1% (Bruce)

[gauntletgirlie]

Anyone else think about writing fan fiction but then realise your OC would just end up being an idealised/better version of yourself and also you keep attacking the story with different plot lines because ultimately you just want to end up with the character you’re obsessed with and you can’t make up your mind what the best/most compelling/most satisfying way for that to happen would be, so you keep the stories in your head?

Besides, your ideas are too insane for anyone to like, surely, even though you’ve written whole scenes in your head and you think they might actually be quite good alright?

Just me?