#I realized this at work and it made me so sad

[inbabylontheywept]

Babylon and the Duck of Butter

I have a gift for falling in love with random objects. One time, my aunt got me a little rubber chicken, and whenever I squoze it, a little egg thing popped out. Very silly. Except that chicken became something like my best friend. I carried it with me to school, and I kept it with me in my pocket, and whatever social hazards there were about Being The Guy Who Got Stressed Whenever His Rubber Chicken Was Missing were far outweighed by being The Guy Who ALWAYS Had a Rubber Chicken On Him. There's a lot of comedic opportunity that comes with always having a good prop on your person.

Of course, the chicken did eventually. Explode. And such was my grief that I did not eat for 36 hours. This was very stressful for many people. Mostly my mom. I was a very strange child to work with. She took parenting so incredibly seriously, and then I'd pitch her these curve balls like refusing to eat for a day and a half because my rubber chicken died. No parenting book tells you what to do when that happens. You just have to feel it in your heart.

A less tragic story of an object that I fell in love with was a large, foam toad that I found in a trinket shop. The toad was the size of a very large grapefruit. Much too large to carry with me to school (thank god) but enough that I could move it around the house, to keep me company during my solitary pursuits. If I was reading, the toad was there, and if I was tinkering with legos, the toad was there, and even when I slept, I would wrap the toad up in layers and layers of blankets, and then spoon it. I did this until the rubber coating on the foam started to wear out, and the foam started to get brittle and break down and leak this repulsive yellow powder. Then I simply put the toad in the playroom and would consult it on matters of great importance. Eventually I stopped doing that, and someone took the opportunity to dispose of it. Not sure who. By the time I noticed its absence, too much time had passed for me to actually be sad. As an adult, part of me thinks I would have maybe liked burying the toad, but part of me also thinks I might have refused to part with the toad, which would have resulted in it leaking more repulsive yellow powder into the house. So I understand why that decision was made. 

I want to state that this does not happen often, and it does not happen on purpose. I don't choose to fall in love with random objects. And it's always a little bit embarrassing when it happens. 

Which brings me to my wife. 

Before meeting my wife, I did not often go to places with crowds. I didn't really think of it as avoiding them - those places just didn't seem fun to me. But she liked those places, and I really liked her, and being with someone who really likes something can kind of sell you on liking it too, so I'd take her to places and watch her Visibly Enjoy the Fair and go: Alright. The fair is pretty sweet.  

Which is a thing that happened. After fourish months of dating, I took her to the fair. And she fell very visibly in love with a large series of quilts, and she stayed near them for a while, which she thought was very embarrassing, and I got to pretend to be understanding as an outsider, because I thought it would be much more impressive than also being the type of person that would fall in love with a quilt. 

Do not do this. The gods punishment for my hubris was that the room next to the quilts was full of butter sculptures, which was an entirely new thing to me, and I immediately fell embarrassingly in love with all of them. It was like the biggest, sappiest non-sexual crush you've ever had, but not only did the other person not recipropcate, they could not, because they were made of butter. I actually got yelled at for pressing my face against the glass, which is fair, but also, I hadn't realized I was pressing my face on the glass, I just started leaning forward because after approximately 30 minutes of staring wistfully at a cow made of butter my legs got tired. And I think I should be given some grace for that.

Anyway. My wife was very patient with me taking more time to look at the butter sculptures than the average person might spent at the Louvre, and she also felt much less embarrassed over falling in love with a quilt, and we had a good laugh about it on the ferris wheel. 

A few weeks after that was my birthday. And I don't know what I expected, exactly - but I did not expect what she did. 

Dear reader, she made me a butter sculpture. Of a duck.

She picked a duck, because our first kiss was at a Japanese friendship garden. It was our second date, and she'd made up her mind not to do any kissing until the third date, but as we sat on the grass, a duck walked past me, and I'd just seen the hold-duck-gentle-like-hamgurber meme,

so I sort of impulsively reached out and snatched it. I honestly didn't think it would work. I don't know who was more flabbergasted, me or the duck. But we looked at each other, and then I looked at her, and then she looked at the duck, and she looked so incredibly envious that I assumed that must have wanted the duck so I just handed it to her.

It turned out she was actually envious of the ability to just grab a duck as it walked by, but she accepted the duck and stroked it a few times before releasing it. (She also made up her mind to kiss me in that moment, which was very nice.)  

Anyway.

She made me a butter duck of my own. Obviously, I fell in love with it immediately. I cleared out all of the freezer-portion of my mini fridge, and I put the duck in there, and for the next several months, when I felt sad, or lonely, I would open the door up and spent some quality time. Just me and my duck.

But this is, of course, not the end of the story. 

Because.

After several months. 

The mini fridge died. 

I really didn't use it that often. It was mostly my duck storage container. But one day, I walked by it, and it struck me that it wasn't humming. So I opened the door, and it was just. Far, far too late. The duck was dead. Dead dead. Turned into a foul-smelling slime dead. 

I cried. I did. After the rubber chicken thing, I thought I had changed, but I had not changed, and the unexpected death of my butter buddy left me pretty shook. I texted my then-girlfriend now-wife about how sad I was, and she actually came over to help me say goodbye. We didn't even bother scraping the duck out of the mini-fridge, we just said our goodbyes to both and threw them together in the nice dumpster behind the chapel, because it seemed appropriate to put it in God's dumpster. And it did actually help quite a bit. I certainly did not go 36 hours without eating again. 

And that was, for some time, the end of the butter duck. 

However. Three (or four?) years ago, for my birthday, my wife was looking around thrift stores. And she found something interesting. 

The original butter duck had an odd pose. She'd sculpted it laying flat, intending to raise it up later. But the butter was less flexible than she thought, and she was afraid of cracking it so she left it down which left the duck with a very elongated, very in-motion appearance. And she found a brass statue of a duck in the same, running posture.

It wasn't the original. But it was oddly on the nose. It was a yellow brass, it had the same strange posture, the same crude little face feathers. 

I think it was $3, but it remains perhaps the most thoughtful gift I have ever received. I got very choked up when I unwrapped Butter Duck, The UnDying. 

Pic provided.

[sakura-onesan]

small remider yakity-sax (s 8, ep 18) exists.

as a rd fan i recognize many pranks she did over time became worse. (regardless, maybe not convince and give panic to your friend as that level as the rainbow cookie episode.) In that episode pinkie gets a yak instrument to play. and her playing disrupts EVERYONE. even the backround ponies. they run away from it. to the mane 6 least to worst: twi none. rarity gets distracted at work and the dress isnt how she wanted, yes she could make another, but she did waste time and materials also she could get hurt by the machine, like other episodes. rainbow dash + wonderbolts + plus the audience. show gets interrupted, followed by dangerous fast fighers outside formation, posible accidents with themselves and audience (luckily none happen). also the audience, they spend they hard earned money to see a show only to get it ruined by a third party. aj and fluttershy are about the same level, but im gonna place flutters first since it included innocent animals. aj: pinkie's playing was so against nature, apples self exploted. important note that the orchard is entire aj family's lifelihood. they did not plat to make applesauce like that. so only they get a say on what happens to their apples. (wasted produce, wasted money, also that sauce was in the trees so not safe to eat) fluttershy: many many animals JUST made to sleep. shes in her own house, late at night, didnt get asked first, and pinkie just plays. animals get woken up and she stays up calming them. the next day shes sooo tired.

Now. the entire episode get played around friends tell another shes bad at what she loves. Actually mentions the episode when twi didnt tell celestia she was bad at acting. excuse me?? celestia's bad acting didnt interrupt or harm or placed risk on ANYONE'S DAY. then when pinkies told the truth the episode makes pinkie go so sad she turns grey (like when on discord influence, chaos magis in pinkie theory), either way everything goes out of their way to tell us the rest of the mane six are in the wrong for telling pinkie to stop.

please even had the yak prince rutherford tell us + the mane six that "there's no wrong way to play the instrument and thats the point of it". please.

so pinkie plays again, screw the consequences or HER OWN actions.

thats why mare do well episode is not good either. we can both agree rd's a boaster. the biggest loudest greatest boaster. maybe she should stop a little. yes please. she was boasting that she was town's hero. yes. rd you should do heroic things because theyre good not to boast about them later. but cmon. the mane six went overboard.

or the first gilda episode. gilda was rude. gilda stole that apple. she was unecessary rude to fluttershy. also. gilda was in a strange town, she was an outsider. around the same season we see how they treat zecora, and they got more in common with zecora than with gilda (which inconsistency found! why give gilda the benefit of the doubt but not to zecora???). much later we realize how shitty griffon town is. unfriendly. unkind. little to no family. shes on defence. not with rd since they're already friends. plus, lets be real pinkie pie was so noisy, wanted to be around all the time. rd should have interviened before. but how wrong is gilda for wanting alone time with someone she trusts!? both gilda some wrong and some right can be true at the same time.

but honestly it happened to every character. like twi with the cruise episode or the movie (cmon no one was helpful, pinkie stop were incognito, rd yes animation pretty but incognitooo)

conclusion: every character was written to be only exagerrated versions of one thing overtime, some episodes we condone something but in others not, not everypony is innocent, and i blame the writing

is it just me or did this happen a lot

(this doesn't have anything to do with punkitt but this doodle style is inspired by her horsecomix so @punkitt-is-here hi)

[vettelsvee]

letting oscar take your virginity to celebrate his win

(if this makes you uncomfortable please to deny or only write fluffy before/after!) love ur work sm

V CARDS GOODBYES | Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: Oscar arrives home after winning his first ever Formula 1 race, so you think it’s the perfect time for you to celebrate and, also, to say goodbye to your v card ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Hope you like it anon! And sorry it's taken me almost a year I'm a mess 😭

WORD COUNT: 3958

WARNINGS: Smut (virginity loss, female receiving oral sex, fingering, p in v, protected sex, little bit of praising kink), curse words

VEE'S NOTES: Came to the conclusion after the latests Oscar fics I’ve posted that he's the most popular driver on my Tumblr page, so this is for all my Osc people out there! I'm always ashamed of posting smut (but still want to keep writing it) so I hope this is good enough for you to enjoy! Remember that your comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! Thanks for reading <3 (Also, thoughts on the new layout?) ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

The door of the apartment you shared in Monaco opened, and before Oscar could step inside, he heard excited screams that made it clear someone was more than happy about his arrival.  

Not only did your cat start rubbing against his leg while purring, but also you, his girlfriend, were hopping towards him, barefoot and wrapped in one of his McLaren hoodies, which turned out to be even bigger on you than you had expected when you decided it would be a great idea to steal it from your boyfriend.  

"You did it, Osc!” you squealed as you threw your arms around his neck. "Osc, oh my God, you won a race! Do you know what that means?"  

Oscar felt his cheeks turn red. Of course, he knew exactly what winning a Grand Prix meant, especially during his second season in Formula 1. However, all he did was shrug, as if his achievement wasn’t that important.  

"Yeah," was all he could say.  

"I’m so, so proud of you," you said in a trembling voice, standing on your tiptoes to cup his face in your hands.  

"I couldn’t have done it without you, even though you were here," Oscar replied sincerely, a hint of regret in his tone. If there was one thing he regretted, it was that you hadn’t been there with him throughout the whole process of stepping onto the podium.  

"I know you would have liked me to be there, and I would’ve loved that too," you replied, making a sad but funny face. "But it’s okay! I screamed at the TV a lot, so I guess I helped in some way… And I’m sure you’ll win more races and I’ll be there to see them all, so it’s not the end of the world!"

Oscar chuckled and pulled you close until there was no space between you. He allowed himself a few moments to hold onto you, gently running his fingers through your hair while you clung tightly to his shirt, pressing your face into his chest as if he might disappear at any second.  

"Hey… I have something for you."

Even though you whispered it, Oscar heard you perfectly. You bit your lip,. a telltale sign of nervousness he knew well, as you pulled away from him. Then, you quickly headed towards the living room, with the Australian following you, and grabbed a small book he had never seen before.  

Carefully, as if it were fragile, you handed it to your boyfriend.  

"Open it… I hope you like it!"

Oscar did as you asked. Gently, he opened what he soon realized was a photo album. It wasn’t just a collection of pictures of you from the past two years since you started dating. It was beautifully decorated. There were messages, and even reflections from your perspective about each memory you had built together.  

"I know it’s not a big deal, but since I was so bored with studying, I have to admit I procrastinated a bit and felt like doing some crafts, so… well, this was the result," you said hesitantly, as if you were confessing a crime, though a small smile crept onto your lips. "Maybe you were expecting something else, I don’t know, but I hope you like it. You could even take it with you whenever you have to travel, so you remember me and also add something else if you feel in the mood," you added softly.  

Oscar felt a lump in his throat, unsure of what to say. Although he was used to you being thoughtful, and he always tried to reciprocate, you somehow kept outdoing yourself.  

"Y/N, this is…" he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. More accurately, he didn’t know how to express them. "It’s incredible. Thank you so much."

You smiled and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips, which, as you both expected, quickly turned into something more desperate, fueled by your hunger for each other.  

Oscar’s hands found your waist beneath the hoodie, his fingers tracing invisible lines along your skin, moving up and down, even toying with the clasp of your bra. The only thing you could do was keep kissing him, tugging at his hair lightly and pressing yourself against his thigh, seeking friction to ease the growing ache within you.  

Then, you suddenly pulled away, more abruptly than Oscar had expected. Your pupils were completely dilated, your lips swollen, and your hair a complete mess.  

"Oscar…" 

"Y/N…"

"I want to do it."

Your voice was barely a whisper. Oscar’s eyes widened, surprised because, even though he perfectly understood what you meant, hearing you say it out loud was an entirely different feeling.  

"Bebe…" 

"I really, really want to do it, Osc," you repeated, more as a confirmation to yourself than to him. "Yesterday, you lost your v-card in Formula 1 with your victory, so… I was thinking maybe I could lose mine too."  

Oscar had known from the very beginning of your relationship that you had never been physically involved with anyone beyond a couple of kisses and teasing. At first, you had been insecure about telling him, worried about feeling ashamed, but Oscar had always made sure you felt safe and comfortable, promising you would only take steps forward when you were truly ready.  

Today, your words made clear that you finally felt like that moment arrived, and that filled Oscar with happiness not because you were about to have sex, but because it meant you were finally comfortable enough with yourself to take that step.  

"Are you… sure?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. "You know we don’t have to rush anything… I don’t want you to feel like we have to do this just because, you know…" 

"I know, Osc, and I promise I wouldn’t be bringing this up if I weren’t sure," you reassured him, looking into his eyes as you ran your fingers over his hands. "I love you, and most importantly, I trust you. I’ve thought about this for a long time, and well… yeah."

"It’s just… I don’t want to mess anything up, Y/N. This is really important, and it should be perfect,” he confessed with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.  

You smiled, cupping his face and bringing him closer for a kiss.  

"It doesn’t have to be perfect as long as it’s with you, Osc.”

"Okay, but… if you change your mind at any point, you tell me," Oscar insisted. You laughed, rolling your eyes.  

"I promise, really."

Your lips met again, but this time much slower. Oscar took his time kissing you carefully, wanting to do everything right. He cradled your cheek with one hand to deepen the kiss, while the other wrapped around your back, guiding you gently toward the bedroom you shared.  

Once inside, he forced himself to stop and take a deep breath to avoid panicking, even though there was no reason to.  

You stood in front of him, looking at him with a mix of shyness and adoration that reminded him of your early days, when you just used to go out for coffee or to the movies back in high school.  

Oscar couldn’t help but look at you with an equally shy, yet utterly endearing, expression.  

"Tell me if you want me to stop, alright?"

"I will, yeah."  

You didn’t need to say anything else since kissing spoke for you. You took your time, enough for Oscar to make sure you felt completely comfortable, enough for you to overthink just a little more before deciding if you really wanted to continue…  

*"I love you, Oscar…" you murmured between kisses. You tugged at his shirt, helping him pull it off, running your hands over his bare chest as if you were seeing him for the first time.  

"I love you too, Y/N…" 

With nerves and hands shakier than he would have liked, almost as if he were the inexperienced one, he took hold of the hem of your hoodie and slowly lifted it over your head, leaving you in just your underwear.  

Oscar was surprised to see you in black lace lingerie instead of the usual shorts you wore around the house. He was about to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. You closed the distance between you, pressing your foreheads together before kissing him once again.  

Neither knew how long you were like this, but you both agreed that it had been long enough to discover that you needed more of each other.

Oscar ended up forcing himself to pull away from you and take a breath. A smile curved between his lips, which caused you, somewhat nervously, to giggle at the situation and hug him around the waist, pulling him closer to you while trying not to shove him away.

“Really, we don't have to do it if you don't want to, Y/N,” the McLaren driver insisted once again.

“I've been looking forward to doing this for a long time, and I've been mentally preparing for it for a while,” she told him, trying not to sound uneasy. “I trust you, Osc, and there's nothing for you to worry about.”

“So...?”

“I want you to make me yours, Oscar. Today, tomorrow or whenever and wherever you want,” you whispered in his ear as sensually as you could.

“Y/N…”

“Oscar: I just want you to fuck me.”

You felt your boyfriend tense up after those words that had caught even you off guard. Instinctively, you brought your hand to the noticeable bulge under Oscar's pants, but when you tried to reach for the button to unbutton them, he pushed your hands away lovingly.

“No, honey, none of that for now. Today is your day, so let me do the work and just enjoy yourself.”

Oscar, without another word, took you by the chin and kissed you again for the umpteenth time that day. Now, your lips moved at a slower speed. You guessed it was because you noticed how one of Oscar's hands began to massage one of your breasts, giving special attention to the nipple. With the other, he lightly brushed your pussy, making you gasp when he decided to play with your clit.

“Do you like it, babe?” he asked in a tone of voice that showed too much excitement.

His fingers now delved a little deeper into your intimacy, those enveloping movements becoming a little faster.

“Yes, Osc...” you barely managed to answer.

That answer was enough for the Australian to stop immediately. You didn't even look him in the face. Oscar pulled away from you, leaving a quick kiss on your lips and starting a trail of kisses all over your body, stopping once he reached your lower stomach area.

“Y/N…”

His hands stood delicately on your thighs, which he was now kissing, closer and closer to your pussy. Your hair stood on end. Your breath was completely held, unable to breathe in case that put an end to it all, as if that would be enough for Oscar to finish whatever he was doing with you. 

“If anything we do tonight makes you uncomfortable and you want to stop, just tell me please,” the Australian declared. “And, before your little head starts thinking nonsense: no, I'm not going to get mad at you because you don't want to have sex, okay? If you don't want to…”

“Oscar, look at me,” you cut him off, and the boy immediately listened to you: “it's you, and I'm not going to feel uncomfortable with you and with anything you do to me.”

“Do you promise me, love?”

“I swear.”

Oscar nodded, grabbing your thighs again and dragging you to the edge of the bed so that his face was in front of your pussy, perfectly aligned with your entrance.

Without warning, he slid his tongue, flat, all over it with a slowness that was completely unbearable and that seemed that, rather than pleasing you, he wanted to kill you little by little. His movements were frantic; constant changes of speed, from faster to slower, and vice versa, that made his nose rub against your clit while his tongue seemed to do wonders with that dance.

When Oscar's tongue began to explore inside you, and his index finger, the one he used to show on camera every time he got a first position just like Sebastian Vettel did in his golden age, started a tortuous tour of your labia majora, you curled up shyly but instinctively. Your hands ended up tangled in his hair, forcing him closer to you at the same time your hips did the same.

“I think you're liking it, aren't you my little girl?” Piastri said, ending his oral contact with you and replacing it with his finger. His gaze was fixed on her, and you thought about why he hadn't done this to you before.

“Don't stop, Osc. For the sake of God, don't even think about stopping...” you gasped, becoming increasingly unable to articulate a word.

He didn't have to say anything else. After those words, Oscar slipped a second finger inside you. You let out a small gasp of surprise and he, without taking his eyes off you, laughed, your cheeks turning red almost instantly. Despite this, he kissed your thighs as he continued the back and forth with his index finger, adding his heart almost soon after while increasing even more the speed.

You felt that everything was going too fast, and the waves of pleasure that were flooding you were making you lose, more and more, the notion of time. You didn't know at what point, but when he decided to add his tongue back into the equation, without leaving the movements of his fingers inside you going straight to that spot that gave you the most pleasure, a strange sensation gripped the lower part of your stomach.

It was getting harder and harder for you to hold back your orgasm. You felt how your eyes were closing little by little, and your leg, too, to which Oscar put a little pressure on them to prevent them from closing.

“Come for me, love,” Oscar let you know. “Come on, Y/N, you've got it babe. Come on…”

And so you did.

Your back curved in such a way that your body, completely sweaty, could hardly keep on writhing as it was doing. You were moaning like you had never moaned before, and your boyfriend seemed to notice. A smirk of satisfaction and success began to break from his lips as he licked at your fluids, his mouth moving slowly now, over-stimulating your clit and making you incessantly.

The Australian rose and carefully positioned himself on top of you.

“I love you, Y/N, you don't know how much,” he said between kisses, making you taste yourself for the first time, but hopefully not the last one. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world... And the best girl in the world. Don't ever doubt it.”

“Oscar, don't…”

“Yes you are, Y/N, and I will not allow you to speak so negatively about yourself.”

After those last words, the driver pulled away from you slightly, trying yo give you some time to recover. Then, you looked at him taking what seemed to be a condom from the bedside table, which he carefully put on and immediately positioned at your entrance. 

You swallowed, while Oscar tried not to think about whether he was really going too fast.

·I don't want to sound weird, but... please, if you want me to stop, just tell me,” Oscar spoke as best he could, trying not to succumb to the nerves he felt about taking this important step with you. “I want you to be pretty sure about this since… Well, since there’s not going back…”

You said nothing. Instead, you gave him a slight nod with your head, still looking at him, which was enough for Oscar to enter you carefully, but without a previous warning.

He decided to stand for a while so you could get used to his length. You felt a little pain. You held back a scream, bit your lips and closed your eyes to do your best to make that feeling go away as soon as possible.

“Y/N…”

“Go on, Oscar. It's all right…”

The boy nodded, and finished entering you with the same care. Little by little, his movements gained speed. You arched your back, moaning incessantly as she started feeling more comfortable with the depth of penetration, and Oscar hitting her in a spot that made her feel a pleasure that you feel in a way you didn’t know how to describe, but that felt good enough to make you never want that sex session to end.

“Does it feel good, honey? Are you enjoying my... cock... for the first time?” Oscar moaned, biting her neck. “Look at you… so desperate for me to keep fucking you…”

“Fuck, Oscar... this is a fantasy,” you gasped. “And you talking so... like… like this... God... Don't stop, please…”

“Never for you, sweetheart.”

Your moans became one, a melody that your neighbors were probably listening to but you didnt give a fuck. Your gazes could hardly be averted, and your words, getting dirtier and dirtier as much as your were embarrassed at first, were sounding louder and louder, as were your pleas.

“Oscar!” you shrieked as you felt Oscar's fingers press against you nervous bundle.”

“Love...” he moaned through his teeth. ”Don't stop moaning my name, please. You don't know how you're making me feel right now.

·And of course I'm going to make you feel so much better when we do this again,” you replied, choking with pleasure. As best you could, you sat up a little and wrapped you arms around you boyfriend's neck. “I want to do it again, Osc,” you made it clear. “I want us to do this every time we get the chance....”

You kept moaning his name, giving him promises you knew he would never break. He kept reassuring you and how good you were doing, speeding up his movements as he couldn’t stop playing with your clit, all of that while he kept telling you that you were his.

You couldn't contain it anymore for the second time that day.

“Fuck, Osc,” he stammered. “I think I'm gonna…”

“Let yourself go, honey,” the brown-haired said. “You can do it, love. Cum for me.”

Your orgasm came before you could say anything else. Oscar came within seconds of you, and as soon as he did he ended, he gave you a short kiss on the lips as he carefully pulled out of heyour and collapsed beside you. 

Oscar's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. You rested your head on his shoulder, trying to regain your composure with increasingly slower breaths. 

“You ok babe?” Oscar murmured after a few minutes.

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding your head with a smile peeking out. “Better than ever, actually.”

It was then that it dawned on Oscar. Quickly, he sat up a little and saw what was under where you were still positioned. His heart began to race, and a pressure settled in his chest as he realized the light blue bed sheets were stained slightly with blood as was his condom, still on him and which he hadn't paid attention to because he just wanted to be with you cuddling after he'd made you lose your virginity.

“Hey, listen, love…” he started to say in a calm, but concerned tone.

You followed his gaze, and couldn't help but blush and die of embarrassment inside.

“Oh...” you spoke quietly, instinctively covering yourself with the sheets. “This... is normal. Well, I guess so…”

“Does it hurt? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, denying it, though the look on your face seemed to say otherwise.

“Well… It's just a little... just a little sore. But it's fine, really. It happens when you have sex for the first time with someone.”

Oscar studied your face, and he knew you wanted to stop this conversation. You wanted to let it go and pretend everything was fine so you wouldn't give him any sign that you hadn't liked it, even though your moans and pleas seemed to say otherwise.

“Still, you shouldn't let it go.”

The Australian approached you and gave you a shy kiss on the forehead. Then he got out of bed, still naked.

·Where are you going?” you asked in a voice mixed with curiosity and nervousness.

“I'm going to get a towel with hot water to clean you up.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was already heading towards the bathroom while taking off his condom. As you heard the faucet turn on, and your boyfriend getting everything ready, you couldn't help but feel bad because, maybe, Oscar deserved better, and your behavior, what was happening to you now, was not what he deserved.

You forced yourself to stop overthinking because if there’s one thing you knew for sure is that Oscar loved you, more than sometimes you were conscious of.

Your boyfriend came back a few minutes later, and found you sitting on the bed, curled up on yourself and clinging to the sheets while still covering with them, as if you were afraid.

“You don't have to…”

“I know,” Oscar cut you off, offering you a small smile, “but I want to. So, please, just let me take care of you.”

Your eyes softened at his proposal, and you forced yourself to calm down as Oscar, with his gaze and his hands coyly on your thighs, asked your permission to spread your legs. You nodded, and he carefully ran the wet towel and hot water over your pussy, giving it little touches because he didn't want to risk it stinging or hurting any more because he really didn't know exactly how the female body worked after losing your virginity.

When he finished, he kissed her knee and sat down next to her again, also covering himself with the sheets so he could hug her and, more than anything else, try to reassure her and make her feel as good as possible.

“There, that's it, all settled. Now, let's stay here and rest.”

“Was it good?”

Oscar let out a small laugh from his mouth at your sudden question as he leaned over to you and snuggled into your shoulder. 

”You've been amazing, love,” he replied, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Now you were both lying on your bed, looking at each other. “Are you okay now that… Did I hurt you? I need you to be honest with me... I should have asked you if you liked the pace I decided to take because, well, I’m not going to lie to you, I think I could have gone a little slower...”

You shook your head and didn't give him a chance to keep talking. Instead, you grabbed his face and pressed your lips to his.

“You don't have to worry about anything, Osc. It was far from perfect. So, from now on, I hope you win more races because from today on, winning sex has become a tradition that I hope we keep for a long time.”

Oscar laughed, knowing you were completely serious.

“We can make a tradition of this and anything else you want, love,” he buried his face in yours, and began to tickle your waist gently. “We can even have several rounds if you want, so… thoughts on that? Should we keep ready for a second round today?”

[channiesunshinx]

Heyy! I wasn't sure if you're doing request or not so feel free to ignore this!

Could you do a Minho x reader with a miscommunixation trope. Angst with a happy ending maybe?

It could be Minho speaking to others in Korean but R only knows a bit of Korean and misheard it as something else and gets upset.

Sry if this a bit long! But I absolutely adore your work!

𝒯𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓈𝓁𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃

Pairing: Minho x F!reader Genre: Romance, drama, slice of life, miscommunication Warning: Language barrier, miscommunication

Minho and the other members were sitting around in their dorm, chatting and joking after a long day of practice. Y/N, Minho's girlfriend, had recently started learning Korean, and although her skills were improving, she still found it hard to catch every word. She was sitting on the couch, trying to follow the conversation, occasionally glancing at Minho, her boyfriend, hoping he'd translate for her.

As Minho spoke with the members, the conversation turned to something funny that had happened earlier at the practice studio.

“그럼, 그때 내가 그만큼 미쳤다는 걸 못 믿겠어.”

(“I can't believe I was that crazy at that time.”)

“맞아! 진짜 미친 거 같았어.”

(“Yeah! You really seemed crazy.”)

Y/N looked up, trying to piece together what they were saying. But then, Minho said something that made her stop cold, her heart sinking.

“근데 사실, 이 관계는 그냥 장난인 거 같아.”

(“But honestly, I think this relationship is just a joke.”)

She froze, staring at him, her mind racing. Did he just say that? Her face went pale. Her stomach twisted. Just a joke? She couldn't believe what she'd heard. Minho had always been so loving and kind to her—how could he say something like that?

Minho, oblivious to her distress, continued talking and laughing with the members. Y/N stood up quietly, trying to hold back the tears, and walked out of the living room, heading toward the balcony. She needed some space to think.

Felix, who had been listening closely, noticed the change in the atmosphere. He saw Y/N leave in a hurry, her face downcast. He exchanged a quick look with Minho before walking over to her.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes already glossy. “Minho… he... he said it was just a joke,” she murmured, her voice shaky. “He doesn't really care about me, does he?”

Felix frowned, his heart aching for her. “What did he say?”

“He said our relationship was just a joke...” she repeated, tears spilling over. “Am I just a joke to him? I thought he loved me.”

Felix quickly realized what had happened. “Oh, that's not what he meant!” He laughed lightly, trying to ease the tension. “He was talking about something completely different, Y/N.”

Y/N wiped her eyes, confused. “What? But... I heard him say that it was just a joke. I don't understand.”

Felix smiled, shaking his head. “It was just a joke.” He paused, thinking carefully. “He said it was crazy, but he wasn't talking about your relationship. It's just... the story from practice. He wasn't talking about you at all.”

Y/N blinked, still not completely convinced. Felix could see she was struggling to understand.

“Let me go get Minho,” he offered.

Minho entered the balcony area moments later, his expression concerned when he saw Y/N sitting there, looking distressed. He stepped toward her, reaching out slowly.

“Y/N, what's wrong? Why do you look so sad?”

Y/N hesitated, her voice trembling. “You... you said it was just a joke. Is that how you feel about our relationship?”

Minho’s face fell as he quickly realized what had happened. ““No, that's not it! What are you talking about?”

Felix, still standing nearby, smiled gently. "Y/N, he was talking about something from practice. It was just a joke.”

Minho nodded, his eyes wide. “I'm so sorry. I didn't know you heard it like that.”

Y/N blinked in confusion, her heart pounding. “So... you weren't saying that you don't care about me? That I'm just a joke to you?”

Minho took a deep breath, his eyes filled with regret. He sat down next to her, taking her hand gently. “No, I never meant that. You're the most important person to me. I'm taking our relationship seriously.”

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes again, but this time, they were tears of relief. She let out a shaky laugh, still a little overwhelmed. “I... I just misunderstood. I'm sorry for freaking out.”

Minho chuckled softly, wiping away a tear from her cheek. “It's my fault. I should have been more careful.”

Felix gave them both a playful look and then backed away, allowing them some privacy. “Alright, I'll leave you two to sort it out. Be happy!”

Minho and Y/N shared a quiet moment together, and Minho pulled her closer. “I promise, I'll be more careful with my words. I never want to hurt you.”

Y/N smiled softly, her heart at ease now. “I know... I know you wouldn’t. I just... I don't always understand everything, but I'm trying.”

Minho smiled, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I love you. And I'll be right here, teaching you, helping you... forever.”

Y/N leaned into his embrace, her worries melting away.

[lazyyogi]

Yesterday my girlfriend had a rough day at work and she mentioned feeling very drained. My day ended with doing an emergency tracheostomy and when I got in my car, I realized it was snowing/sleeting and it had already gotten dark out.

That kind of weather always depresses her a little bit, she doesn’t share my love of rainy days. So instead of going straight home, I drove a bit in the opposite direction to get her a bouquet of bright yellow roses from a supermarket (the only flower place open at that time of night).

When I arrived home, she was sleeping on the couch in complete darkness. She woke up immediately to greet me and when I turned on the lights, she was so surprised and delighted. She said the flowers completely turned her day around.

I share this because it made me reflect on what it means to try to help someone who is sad or unhappy, particularly someone you love. It made me happy that I could cheer her up, but I would have been fine if she hadn’t reacted that way too. The important point is to approach something like this as an offering, not as a gift or an exchange.

With a gift, you expect to be thanked and appreciated on some level. But with an offering, you just give it and let it go.

I just felt that given her crummy day and the crummy weather, she should have some flowers because she loves them. I chose yellow because it can be a stimulating and mood elevating color, and something that shines warmly during the dark of winter.

I hope those of you enduring this winter are finding your own ways to let in warmth as well.

Much love 🙏🏻

LY

[farenmaddox]

Supernatural unhinged rambling ahead… be warned.

I have started obsessing over this idea that was a passing thought I had a few weeks ago, which is how much better seasons 6 and 12 would have been if the plots had been swapped. Reasons: the Campbell family plot Did Not Serve the Narrative of season 6 and felt hugely distracting, and the BMoL felt like a silly threat at the point of season 12. They have super-cool weapons to fight monsters. Okay, and? They can incapacitate/go toe-to-toe with an angel? Me, too, bitch, you ain't special. This is well after The Fall and after angels have already been thoroughly nerfed by previous seasons.

So what if the big bad of season 6 was the BMoL and the big bad of season 12 was Sam?

Season 6: The British Men of Letters knew some shit was up in America but left it alone until Crowley leaned on them for resources in some cagey plot of his. They dig into it and realize angels are on earth and fucking things up. This is a big deal, a big problem, and they need as much information and leverage on angels as they can get, immediately. So what do they do? They identify the person who knows the most about them at this point: Dean Winchester.

Sam is in hell, Cas in heaven; Dean is alone (I mean, he has Lisa and Ben but let’s be realistic about how much of a shield they can be). This group who is so ruthless about killing monsters gets to Dean at a point of real vulnerability in this life. They promise him that if he works with them they will find a way to save Sam. And so begins the War. Dean is a ruthless hunter, Ketch and Mick get more screentime to attempt to be interesting people, the Alpha plot is more developed. They capture angels and study them. Cas is too distracted and Dean too sad/angry to realize the threat that the BMoL actually poses to Heaven until it's almost too late.

Dean defects to side with Cas, but only at the last minute. Cas is the one who amasses the power to get to Sam first, and Dean’s grateful. That, plus the fact that the BMoL want to lock up and study Sam and kill Cas. Cas decimates the BMoL and Dean doesn’t mind that at all. Then the Leviathans happen, end season.

Season 12: At the end of season 11, as Amara is trying to gather as much power as possible, Sam is caught in the crossfire and she eats Sam’s soul. Very end of the season, she brings back not just Mary but Grandpa Campbell as well, in an effort to fuck up Chuck's storylines.

Sam is dangerous and running amok, chasing Lucifer all over the globe and leaving a trail of collateral damage, maybe trying to steal the Knights of Hell's loyalty for himself. Cas and Crowley and Dean (hello toxic polycule!) are chasing Sam, and the Campbell family (including Mary) is left to deal with actual hunting as a profession. Dean tries to be around when he can to temper their hunting style and forge a relationship with his mom, but it goes poorly. At the same time, Dean is trying to negotiate with Billie on how to get Sam’s soul back, which of course goes awry when Cas kills Billie to get Dean and Mary out of the deal they made when they got arrested for trying to kill the president.

Big overarching themes/plots related to “blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb” type stuff, and the nature of Death and souls. Dean maybe gets caught up in Death politics for a minute, as a way of actually doing something with how much Dean has had a special connection with Death and reapers in previous seasons, and his role as assassin of the old Death and an agent in the ascension of the new Death. Because Sam is like this, Dean ends up sticking with Cas more and ends up siding with him about what to do with Kelly's little nephilim problem.

Season 12 ends similarly to canon, except that Sam is the one who gets sucked into Apocalypse World, Grandpa Campbell is the one who tries to shoot Jack, and Dean is the one who tries to stop him. When they wake up from Jack flinging them away, Mary turfs her dad out and sides with Dean about Jack. Heading into season 13, we are wondering about soulless Sam and whether he's going to find a way back and take Hell for himself, and what Dean and Mary are going to do about the absolute MESS that the Campbells have made of the hunting network and the Winchester reputation.

[stupidlittlespirit]

i've seen the "he'd never date a woman" thing with ford so much, which i think about a lot. like it's one thing to just headcanon him as gay but there are a lot of posts where internalized or blatant misogyny shine bright. one i saw straight up had multiple people going "he respects women too much to want to date/fuck them" like hello? do you realize what you are implying ab real women when you say that?

i'm not great at articulating my thoughts but i think it's especially prominent with ford because of his intelligence + unconventional demeanor. he's off-putting and a genius and didn't want to give up his work to settle down into a standard marriage with kids. women can't be weird or smart in the same way men can for example and all women want the typical white picket fence nuclear family american dream. therefore you are off your gourd if you think he'd ever want to be with a woman. so there’s that on top of the already rampant misogyny present in fandom spaces with shipping especially.

there's also the whole "gibe the oracle your phone number" / "i miss dimension 52" that could have some implications if you want but ig i can't blame people for forgetting jeselbraum because hirsch barely expands on her LOL. but basically it’s all up to interpretation and it really isn’t all that wild to think he could be attracted to women.

personally i just enjoy projecting my own sexuality onto him. “what gender are you attracted to?” don’t care. can i show you my isopod colonies. “how would you describe your sexual attraction?” uhhhhhhhhhhh (<- is probably demisexual)

So, I deleted my post because I felt like I was rehashing points I'd previously made a million times before, but I stand by it.

I want to address what you said and then I want to kind of go on a tangent (shocker, I know) about the interpretation of GF at large because I've been engaging with a lot of Lynch stuff recently, who we know was by and large the most influential person for Hirsch, and one of the biggest things around Lynch's work is the beauty of subjectiveness. I think Hirsch carries that legacy with him at the heart of his work.

So yeah, the comments about Ford 'respecting women too much' is insane. If anyone thinks that they are probably the kind of person who doesn't respect a woman anyway. If your hands sully the one you touch, perhaps your hands were not so clean to begin with, yknow? That's the vibe I always get with those kinds of comments.

Society approaches women so differently from men in this regard, as you said. Where a man is 'quirky' and 'cool', a woman is 'annoying' or 'trying too hard'. She suffers for her differences where as he profits for them. She can only commit the crime of being Cringe, and in my experience, people will forgive many things but never that.

There is certainly merit in the way in which a lot of people recognise that Ford is partial to things that are 'weird' or that are shunned by society, especially because of his hands, and that plays well into Queer culture. It's a feeling most of us (if not all of us) experience. So I can see where there connection comes and it's totally cool to hold that belief. Queer is BIG umbrella and I think he falls under it myself, what with the ace/aro stuff. We're given much more canon evidence of him being ace/aro, in fact, than of anything else. I maintain personally that canon Ford is asexual and aromantic, and that romance doesn't factor into his life in the way it does for 'normal' people. It's why when Bill mentions that quiz Ford does in his dreams in TBoB it makes me think of my own struggles with asexuality: "I'm not normal, everyone else is feeling this type of way and I'm feeling that type of way. There's something wrong with me. I'm weird. I need answers." It feels very much like Ford is attempting to understand that side of himself and is very afraid of the answer.

The Oracle stuff makes me so sad it was never expanded on more. I really love Jheselbraum and it felt like she was one of the first people that Ford met who was of higher intelligence than him, and who actually did just want to help. She extended an extreme kindness to him. Whether it was more than that doesn't even really matter. There was still a relationship formed there that can't be discounted. But again, it can be interpreted in lots of different ways.

This is the other thing. There's nothing wrong with projecting yourself onto your favourite character. We all do it. I do it. It's fun and it brings comfort. And that's okay! But that means we can all do it. So it's unfair for someone else to say "you're wrong for thinking XYZ about Ford" because we're all just kids in a sandbox playing house with these characters. You can't gatekeep someone else's enjoyment.

You can believe Ford is gay. You can believe Ford is ace. You can believe Ford is whatever you want him to be, but what you can't do is then rescind that privilege from someone else just because you don't like it or because it makes you feel better about yourself to punch down on someone else. People are entitled to their own interpretations of media, even if they make you feel uncomfortable or whatever.

Which brings us onto Lynch. Now, I'm not a huge surrealist fan, I like Lynch most for the person that he was (ugh I'm still so sad to type that). One of the biggest things about him was that he valued the intelligence of his audience and respected them enough to allow them the space to interpret his works as they saw fit. He never wanted to define his films in a way that would prevent another person from taking their own meaning from it. There was no definition, only feeling.

There's a clip of him being asked to expand on his meaning for one of his films, I forget which one, and he just replies "no". It's so fucking good because that, to me, is art. It is fundamentally subjective in its existence and the way I view something is not going to be the way someone else does, so why take that interpretation away from one to give to another just for their approval? We may align in thoughts but the way we process the media is going to be entirely different. Why? Because we're different people. Our experiences throughout our lives have informed the way we interact with things.

I think Alex Hirsch enjoys other people making their own interpretations of his work in a similar way. Just as Lynch does. Hirsch wants you, the audience, to derive personal meaning. He doesn't need (or even want) to tell you how to engage with the themes because why would he? It would only make him work harder to get a simpler point across and it would risk alienating parts of his audience. He wants the audience to connect and to find their own familiarities, and he respects his audience enough to give them the space to let them do that. He's often evasive when he's asked to tie things down firmly. To be honest, I think he should be braver in just saying "no, I don't want to answer that" sometimes. You can tell he wants to but he also wants to engage with people so it can be hard.

People are very desperate to want to have answers in black and white. They need things to be canon in order to feel vindicated, when in actual fact, an idea is just as legitimate when it comes to fiction. Fiction IS an idea. It isn't tangible and therefore cannot be quantified, so it can be interpreted however.

Anyway, by forcing your interpretation of the work onto others (ie. 'Ford would never', 'Stan would never' etc), I think you fundamentally misunderstand what the purpose of the work is. You're taking away the light of other people because you're scared yours doesn't shine bright enough. And you're scared because other people previously took your light away, but all you're doing is repeating the cycle and taking away from the rest of us.

Your ideas can coexist with others. No one is right and in that, everyone is right. Does that make sense? Idk.

I voice my opinions of disliking certain ways the fandom engages with elements of the show, but I don't think they have less right to have those ideas than I do to have my own. I interpret Bill as one way and someone else will interpret him another. That's okay. You're allowed to do that. But I don't think you're allowed to be actively vicious to others over it.

Engage with honesty and recognise that other people enjoys things in different ways, and it's okay not to control the narrative of that sometimes.

I have my criticisms of Hirsch but I also have a lot of love for the guy, and one of the biggest things I respect about him is him allowing us to draw our own beliefs. Do I think he could stand to do some things better? Yes. But that doesn't mean I don't love what I already have from his work.

I'm not sure if this makes sense, I'm having a bit of a Day, but I hope it at least reads well enough to convey my meaning.

[jmdbjk]

Language challenges...

The other day, I was doing my (BTS) Army duty and introducing my sister to Hobi's music: Hope World, Jack in the Box and Hope on the Street. She asked one or two questions and truthfully, I was not prepared to answer what the songs were specifically saying. I know what they are generally about but I could not even recite ONE specific lyric from HOTS. I was ashamed. I'm sorry Hobi.

[Jungkook with a bag over his head]

So I am reviewing lyrics for every song beginning with PROOF and I plan to review the lyrics for every solo album. Except Golden (more on that in a sec). Then I will move on to each album in BTS' discography and eventually the Japanese albums as well. It's definitely a task that has to be tackled in smallish chunks because... overwhelming much? Yes.

Of course I've read the translations before and I know what the gist of the songs (the ones I listen to often) are about, but singing along with them in Korean and knowing what the lyrics are...not happening in my brain. Yet.

Yes, yes... oMg NoW wE hAvE tImE tO LeArN kOrEaN aNd CaTch uP oN cOnTent...

🤪

You all know how that went over the past two and a half years.

As I am going through the songs, as it was discussed when PROOF was first released, the evolution of lyrics, musicality, themes, throughout BTS' career is quite obvious. I am also being reminded that when you are missing context, some lyrical meaning is lost in translation. Though this site has not been updated since 2023, I highly recommend it to gain some added nuances for music prior to D-Day (the last album included): Doolset Lyrics.

This site is current and has translated lyrics for all albums including solo albums but doesn't include as much explanation of certain nuances in language: Bangtan Subs

Overcoming the language and cultural nuances thing is a thing, but one thing remains, the sincerity, the pointed topic of the songs, there are none that are vague at all.

There's young love/lust, yearning, pride, fear, dreams, wonder, self-realization, anger, sadness, joy... it's all there in the lyrics.

I was reading the lyrics for Yet to Come and was overcome with emotion... the past, was it honestly the best? we've come full circle, but the best moment is yet to come.

...was the past honestly the best? I can honestly answer no to that question. The past was AWESOME. But...now older, wiser, the thoughts, opinions and reflection that will eventually become lyrics are coming from a more mature point of view. And that growth never stops, year after year. I know the best IS yet to come.

It made me wonder whats going through their minds while they are up on stage singing these songs... are they filled with a sense of nostalgia? are they filled with wonder yet again as they gaze out at the tens of thousands of points of light from Army bombs? Do their hearts burst with pride? love? exhaustion (lol)? I know they're also thinking about what comes next in the choreography but that is also a muscle memory thing and sort of goes on autopilot (reference JK forgetting to fill in for Jin during the Butter choreo during the PTD LV concert).

I can see why they'd choose to "retire" songs from a concert set list. They've outgrown them personally and artistically.

As for my sister, I think she will probably lean toward Jungkook as her bias. Circumstances created a situation where he was her first real BTS experience when I brought her with me to see I Am Still at the movie theater. It doesn't hurt that he's adorably goofy. We then listened to Golden on the way home. Accessible, that's the word that comes to mind. The english songs help those new to BTS to open their minds and when that happens, as we know, the rabbit hole is not far behind, language challenges be damned.

She is still far, far from even being baby Army. I am working on it. Wish me luck.

[yourlovelywriter]

Mine to have (yandere agatha hardness x reader) pt two!

I was struggling a bit on how I wanted this to go but.. I’ve managed this much. So good luck soldier 🕺 also.. I didn’t read over it so you’re gonna have to struggle to understand some things perchance.

(*Warnings*— yandere behavior, rough handling, blood, jealousy, unusual gifts, sexual behavior, Lustful intent… kidnapping.)

————————————-

Your head is killing you. As you lay in the bed you suddenly remember see a person in your doorway, you jump up to look at the door but it’s not there. You sigh…. ITS NOT THERE?!?

Staring at the wall you realize this isn’t your room. You look around frantically, “what the hell?!” You whisper and stand, you hear metal hitting together and you look down.

To your horror you’re chained to the bed.

You try to pull the chains but they won’t budge. You keep trying till you hear a creak. Your head shoots to the door. You can see the faint shadow outside the door.. was this person watching you ?

You grab a lamp off the desk beside the bed and you hold it up, ready to throw it at whoever enters. The door opens and as soon as you see the person you throw the lamp and hide beside the bed.

“Well thank fuck you have shitty aim dove. That would have surely knocked me out” the smooth voice calls from the door and you pause… dove?

You slowly lift your head and you see her. Agatha, the woman from the library.. what the hell is going on?! You stare at her with confusion and fear.

She pouts. “Don’t look at me like that dove.. it makes me sad.” She brings in a tray of food. “Anyway, did you sleep good? And I hope you like blueberry pancakes!” She says holding up the tray with a smile.

You can only stare, “what the hell ?! Why am I here, more importantly where am I ?!” You yell and stand from your place beside the bed. She raises an eyebrow and her smile falls a bit.

“Baby that’s no way to talk to me…” she scoffs, “I’ve brought you here with me, changed you into my soft pajamas,” looking down you see you’re in a light purple two piece pajama set. You look up at her as she continues.

“And I’ve made you blueberry pancakes. And still you yell at me.” She sighs and sets the food down. She walks over to the bed and grabs your arm. “Am I not enough for you. I love you and you just yell.” You try to pull away but she grips tighter.

“L-listen Agatha, you’re acting insane ! You’ve kidnapped me ! Don’t you see how you’re in the wrong” you say but she just looks at you.

Her gaze darkens and her hands rub up your arms.

“I did not kidnap you, dove.. I brought you home, away from that bitch who’s trying to take you from me.” You try to shove her off. You know she’s talking about Emily.

“I won’t let her have you baby, I need you. Don’t you see how much it hurts me when you try to flirt with other women when I’m just sitting here loving you…” her finger slides across your cheek.

“Listen to me you crazy person! You don’t know what you’re talking about, we aren’t in a relationship! I hardly even know you! I can flirt with whoever I want.”

That was not a good Thing to say. And you realize that as her grip tightens and she scoffs. She slams you into the bed and grips your chin with her long fingers.

“Don’t you ever talk to me like that again.” She yells. Her nails stabbing into your skin. You wince at the pain and she smiles. “Listen to me, you’re going to be a good girl for me and things will be easy for you baby.” You nod, not wanting her to get angry. “Good.” She smiles and gets off of you.

“Now I’m gonna leave these here for you to eat.. and I have to go off to work now baby.. I’ll see you later” she sets the tray beside you and rubs your face. You pull away slightly and she smirks.

Agatha walks to the door to leave but pauses when you call her name.”you’ll never get away with this Agatha, someone will come looking for me you know..” you say and watch her turn to you.

She walks slowly over to you before smiling, “no one’s looking for you baby… I’m going to make sure of that.” She stands tall before leaving. Locking the bedroom door as she goes.

As soon as she leaves you feel a cloud of unease over you.

Later that evening you wake to something touching you. You sit up quickly and see Agatha sitting on the bed beside you with her hand on your face. “You’re such a pretty girl love… all mine… mine to have. All to myself.” She mumbles and you can only sit still in confusion. You look down and you see stains on her clothes and hands.

Your eyes widen as you realize it’s blood. “W-what is that Agatha ?!” You move away from her and she sighs. “It’s just a bit of blood baby.. nothing to worry about.” She says and takes off her shirt. You notice she has on a necklace. A familiar looking one… wait.. that’s.. Emily’s necklace. She has on Emily’s necklace..

“Something caught your eye baby..” Agatha smirks and rubs the jewel between her forefinger and thumb. “Where did you get that…”

Agatha smiles down at you, “well I had to make sure no one would try to come get you.. so I took care of some things.. and well I got this trinket while taking care of those things…”

Suddenly you look to the bloody shirt then back to her. It hits you hard. She’s killed her, she’s killed Emily. Agatha studies your reaction, her eyes roaming your face.

Tears form and you cover your mouth. “Don’t cry dove. She was an obstacle. Something I needed to destroy so we could love each other….” Her hands rub your arms then rest on your hips.

You’re too distracted to push her away. Tears run down your cheeks as you cry. Agatha rubs your back to soothe you and she wipes your tears.

“You killed her.. you killed my best friend!” You cry harder and burry your face into your hands.

Agatha brings you into her arms and scoffs. “I’m your best friend love.. you don’t need anyone else. No one but me.” She kisses your head.

You feel awful. You feel sick. You try to weakly push her away but she holds your arms down as she holds you.

“I’m gonna love you forever. And in time you’ll love me to baby.” She kisses your nose.

————————————————

Welp…. That’s all I got people. Should I leave it here ? 👀

I wanted Agatha to be a bit more touchy with reader but oh well.. :(

This is a little short also, but that’s cause I’m in the process of trying to make a Lilia fic.. ✋ have mercy.

[drizzerey]

(I will be redrawing this so she has her dress and is properly on her feet. But I have decided this is why he is doing this)

“You need to stop using that on me.” Lann bemoaned, which made Driz laugh.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She said, clear smile on her voice which told Lann, she knew exactly what he was talking about and denied it fully.

“Ever since I pointed it out, you’ve used it on me and it’s not at all fair, I don’t use it on you.” Lann complained, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

Turning, Driz laughed. “Oh please, like that would work on me.” she claimed, so sure she was right.

Normally Driz was right, but Lann was fairly confident, and his lips slowly turned up into a smirk. “Oh really?” He challenged.

Driz smirked at him right back, clearly thinking she knew what she was talking about. “Absolutely.” She crossed her own arms, daring him with her green eyes to try and prove her wrong.

“Okay, you asked for it.” Lann shook his head, before he swiftly crouched in front of her, and wrapped his arms around her legs, bringing her flush against him. He looked up at her, trying to make his eyes as big as possible, and while she couldn’t see his mouth as her dress kinda hid it from view, there was no mistaking the sad frown he projected.

Instantly her confident demeanor dropped and Driz could not look away, her cheeks flushing and he knew he won, but he waited patiently for her to admit defeat.

Finally Driz managed to break eye contact and looked away with a pout. “Alright I admit you can.” She ground past her teeth.

“What was that?” Lann asked, trying his best not to let the expression fall yet, but it was hard with how much he wanted to grin up at her.

“You got me with the eye thing!” She huffed and refused to meet his eyes again. “Now stop it!”

Chuckling, Lann nuzzled her leg, dropping the big eyed look. “Are you upset I was right for once?”

“You are right more than once in a while.” Driz snapped. “Just thought I wouldn’t fall for it.”

“Ah, so you’re mad that you’re not as strong as you thought, against the look.” Lann laughed. “If it makes you feel better, there are a lot of looks at my disposal you aren’t strong enough to resist.” Driz crossed her arms and refused to meet his gaze still. “You won’t look at me because you know it’s true.”

“Oh quit rubbing it in!” Driz tried to get out of his hold, but he wouldn’t let go. “Lann,” She warned.

“Driz,” He purred. Now he was grinning full force up at her.

There was no doubt in his mind that if she truly wanted him to let her go or was not happy with him, he’d probably feel like he was dying in a split second. But Driz, despite her hurt pride, wasn’t going to hurt him. Though she was hanging onto her frustration a lot longer than he thought was normal. “You’re not actually mad are you?”

Sighing, Driz finally met his eyes. “No, I’m not mad. I just don’t like admitting defeat.” Driz said.

“We’re just having fun, I’m not going to hold it against you.” Lann promised.

“I know… I know.” She closed her eyes, before lowering herself so she was more in his lap. Lann settled them more on the ground, hugging her close. “At least you admit you’re cute.”

“Now wait a minute.” Lann protested, he hadn’t expected that.

“It’s the adorable animal look, you called it that long before I did, and you were so determined to prove you could do it. Therefore you’re admitting you are cute!” Driz was smiling up at him, clearly pushing aside whatever dark mood had taken hold of her.

Lann realized he had played himself and he frowned, closing his eyes with a curse. “Just cause I know how to… oh shush you, I am not adorable. You just have a weird perception of what’s cute.” He grumbled.

“You can try to deny all you want,” Driz poked his cheek and giggled when he growled a little. “I got you to admit you’re cute!” 

“Oh yeah, real cute. The ladies can’t get enough of me.” He huffed. It was not like with Driz who had to beat off people with a stick. Lann only ever attracted a few women, and they were all mongrels. Well not counting Driz.

“After the crusade I’ll take you around the world and you’ll see, Mendev is just terrible. I’ll have to start being all possessive.” Driz claimed.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Lann muttered.

Giggling, Driz leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve made a lot of things you thought couldn’t happen, happen. When are you going to start believing me?”

“You said you could resist me, and I just proved you wrong, showing that you can in fact be wrong sometimes.” Lann countered.

“I never once claimed I was always right!” Driz laughed, leaning more into him. No she didn’t think she was always right. Letting out whatever tension he was holding, he rested his cheek against her, snuggling closer and just feeling content with her in his arms.

doing a more sketchy look cause I'm kinda hating on my linework and cell shading right now so doing something a bit more fun for me.

No idea what Lann is asking for here, but Driz is just as bad as he is saying no the other. Also Driz is in her dressed down outfit cause I didn't wanna make her wear a dress and cover up a bunch of the details here.

Also I got some better reference images for Lann's in game model so hopefully this will help keep his look more consistent.

[frostybirdgoddess]

Hey remember when the first full trailer for Chaos Theory dropped and the Nublar Six’s designs were revealed and everyone was like ‘it’s cool how Brooklyn had pink hair in CC and now Sammy’s the one with pink in her hair,” etc etc?

Chaos Theory episode one spoilers….

We find out that Brooklyn’s death happened *before* Chaos Theory takes place, meaning Sammy literally colored her hair pink *for* Brooklyn, in memoriam of her fallen friend.

I remember seeing posts like ‘it’s cute that Sammy’s the one with pink in her hair bc she was a Brooklander/ Brooklyn convinced or helped Sammy to dye it…’

We were all wrong- it wasn’t about parallels or growth from CC- it’s about Sammy loving and honoring her friend.

[seaglassdinosaur]

It’s the fact that he didn’t have to be miserable.

All of his agonies about his weakness and monstrousness and lack of control was self-constructed, self-inflicted and he didn’t need to be miserable.

[pup-pee]

hi this is a post saying i will not b online((or try)) until i get my g.e.d.

i love u all if i uh, yk never return

hugs hugs many sweet dreams & good mornings!

[itspileofgoodthings]

School is going so great and also I am so exhausted and also I am having an existential crisis

[tj-crochets]

so in the past I have made themed gifts for people who have helped me* and it's been a little weird but like. Understandable to the person I am gifting the thing to weird? My current problem is that I want to make something for my endocrinologist because he has improved my quality of life hugely** but endocrinology doesn't have an easily themed gift and my endocrinologist reminds me very very strongly of like a sad greyhound or a whippet but I cannot explain to this very nice, very normal man that "hey I made you a plushie of a dog because I wanted to thank you for the steroids and you remind me of a dog. In a good way!" *like teeth plushies for the dentist who helped me figure out I have to have dental anesthetic without epinephrine in it, or a chicken plushie for the people at the chicken restaurant that went the extra mile to get their ingredients list that were the reason I figured out I'm allergic to coconut **I had what would have been a severe allergic reaction and it wasn't pleasant but I didn't end up in the hospital and I didn't take like a week minimum to recover and

[thedrotter]

as a little treat i am sharing with you little Aya doodles I've done over the last few days to unwind ww just little expressions based on lines in-game because those are always fun to draw. nothing too special just biscuit

it's Aya because upon doing bizarrely throughout playthroughs of the game for still unspecified project purposes I've gained a soft spot for her she's my daughter now my mental tier list on my favorite characters is so confusing right now