#a lot of this is based on my experience as someone who tried learning a lot of languages at the same time

[seiwas]

sellllllll it's meeeeee. hehehehehehehehehhehe

so for ur writing exercises.... deku + light? please? pretty please?

:3c

heheh heheh hehe niku. this will be the death of me. me writing izuku for the first time 🥲 i will only do this for you </3

contains: established relationship, spoilers for the end of the manga, aged up deku but sometime in between the final outcome (he doesn't get the h*** s*** from bakugo yet), mentions of sex and scars

deku + light

izuku only sleeps with the lights off.

it isn't uncommon; many people you know can't sleep with even just a sliver of light turned on somewhere in the room. but the difference with izuku, you learn, is not that he's unable to stand the light―it's that he refuses to.

you quickly pick up on it the first few times he sleeps over.

he fidgets in bed, pretty badly, actually. the nightlight you sleep with glows a warm yellow, illuminating the side of your face and coating him in its afterglow. you chalk it up to nerves, how he pulls at his sleeves and adjusts his position constantly; he is, after all, one of the most anxious people you know.

and this relationship―it's new. heck, even you feel a little jittery with his arm wrapped around you.

the rhythmic tapping on your hip only increases pace. you don't think he realizes it, so your hand gently reaches for his, intertwining your fingers as you turn around in his arms.

he's close, nearly touching you nose-to-nose; the proximity leaves you fuzzy, a little ticklish, so you giggle, a soft "oops," as the freckles dusting his face almost glisten under the warm light.

"hi," you whisper, meeting his eyes; they stare back at you wide in surprise, "can't sleep?"

he looks almost guilty at your question, as if you’ve caught him with the one thing he's been trying to keep from you.

"just—" his voice comes out louder than intended, prompting him to chuckle nervously as he readjusts his volume, "just winding down, sorry."

you inch closer, nuzzling his nose lightly, "it's okay."

"did i wake you?" he asks, cheeks flushing pink as his eyebrows furrow in immediate concern. his expression is something caught between stifling a grin and feeling sorry.

you shake your head against the pillow you share, strands of your hair tangling with his. "just winding down," you tease, watching as his gaze turns softer, eyelids drooping heavier.

sometimes, you think, izuku holds the world in his eyes―a deep, dark green, the color of life. most times, they look at you with wonderment, bright and alive; photos from inko tell you they're the eyes of his inner child.

on nights like this one, however, they hide a depth in them weighted by what you can only assume is time, and all that has happened to him in such a short span of it.

you try your best to understand what lies beneath them, knowing full well he'll never tell you outright what truly bothers him.

"is it the light?" you bring up, some time after laying in silence.

"hm?" he clarifies.

"do you have a hard time sleeping with the nightlight?"

his eyes widen briefly once more, as if shocked that you've caught him again. these split second reactions are ones you've learned to be attentive to when it comes to izuku.

"no," he tries to lie, but you know better as you turn to your nightstand and reach for its switch, "you don't–"

"it was hurting my eyes," you quickly make up an excuse, tucking yourself closer under his chin as you cut off his attempt to deny it again.

finding out that the light was the problem was the easy part—

you'd begun to notice much earlier on that izuku was barely rested on the nights he'd spend at your place. it was only when your old nightlight broke that you began to notice him waking up much later than you did, groggily rousing from a deep sleep.

—what was hard, was figuring out why.

at first, you suspected it was his scars.

"s-sorry, it's not—" he'd warned you, right as your hands gripped the hem of his shirt the first time you were about to have sex, "—it's not nice."

you didn't care though; you still don't care, and you've made that abundantly clear to him since. you love izuku and all his parts―all the nicks and jaggedy pieces of skin that make up who he is.

when you eventually ask him about it, with a request that he be honest with you for once, he tells you that it is and it isn't―the reason why he exclusively sleeps with the lights off, that is.

it's an odd, comforting relationship he has with his body—that he is simultaneously grateful and sorry for how its become a canvas, both painted and marred to symbolize japan’s historic last stand.

you find out the real reason when you catch him staring at his hands.

he does it often, when he thinks you aren't looking—his fists bunched up in the same way he used to watch the power of one for all course through his fingertips; the same way he used to prepare them in battle.

there’s a faraway look in his eyes that lingers, you notice—a little wistful if anything.

“do you miss it?” you finally ask. he gives you the same shocked look he does every time, as if he’s been caught with a secret he’s been trying to hide.

he’s learned a fair bit about you now, too, though—lying to you is futile when you’ve perfected reading his truth. he stares at his fists again as you take a seat beside him, moving to give you space. you rest your head on his shoulder gently, waiting.

“sometimes,” he admits, but you know it’s an understatement.

“i think about the vestiges a lot. i miss them the most, i think,” he continues, clenching his fists tightly, “i always try to reach out to them, but i guess it doesn’t work that way.”

“i… i try to replicate the right conditions every night, but…” then he lets go, stretching his fingers out wide. the scars on the surface ripple through his skin, telling its own story.

you hum, acknowledging what he means. silence sits with the two of you as you take his hand in yours, slowly unfurling his fingers until his palm reveals itself to you. it’s rough to the touch, seasoned with hard work and all that he’s been through.

“is that why you prefer the dark?” you ask softly, after some time.

it's not often that you stay up later than izuku does. when you do though, you catch him shifting in bed, moving from side-to-side. you pretend you aren't awake, but you hear him mumble their names, dwindling in volume as he dozes off to sleep.

he stares at his palm for a moment before he admits quietly, "yeah." his brows furrow as if contemplating whether to say more, but he shakes his head, dark green strands swaying to the beat of his embarrassed chuckle, "nevermind, it's silly."

"it's not."

you intertwine your fingers, sandwiching his hand between yours. a slight sheen glosses over his eyes as he tilts his head up to look at you. he draws in a breath, before it spills over.

"it's..." he finds the words, and you squeeze his hand in comfort, "it's easier to believe it was all real when the lights are out, and that maybe it can happen again."

[photos-or-inkblots]

i just passed 3x13 Parting Shot (and wow do i feel the despair and hopelessness of Huntingbird leaving </3) which was the first episode that subtly points out Daisy’s monolingualism, which always… rubbed me the wrong way. you’re telling me that an orphan who was dead-on obsessed with finding her parents and her heritage and was most likely discriminated in her youth wouldn’t be curious of what language her parent(s) spoke? you’re telling me she didn’t spend her decade (and then some) pre-SHIELD to learn them, even if they’re just wild guesses?

so! consider: the most random group of languages she has surface-level knowledge of inferred from what other people think she is or recognize her as

Chinese: She’s half-bad with the tones, given the lack of resources there would’ve been during the 90s-2000s, but she can read conversations in Mandarin when she stalks Weibo. She’s probably hacked Chinese servers before since we know she knows her way around (see 1x05 The Girl in the Flower Dress, the computer was in Chinese and she completed her hack and then some in seconds.) Cantonese is at a very basic level. very (read: swear words)

Korean: She can read and write still, since it’s pretty easy (i learned the script once nine years ago and it’s still there lol). K-Pop gained notoriety in the US in the 2010s, she might’ve considered it. (is this me plugging my current Girls’ Generation rotation? probably LOL). knows a lot of words, none of the syntax and grammar. Probably listens to K-Pop too. Bonus: she surprises the team when they miss extraction in rural South Korea and need to get on a plane in Incheon for Plan B–the gov’t didn’t like the Avengers’ mess with Ultron–and Daisy gets them a train ride to Seoul despite their translator app showing Hangeul instead of its romanization.

Thai: she tried. she really did. but it’s too hard. she can recognize it when she hears it though. same goes to Vietnamese

Filipino: swear words (yes, even the Bisaya ones). and can probably manage reading upper class Taglish (it’s 90% English anyway)

Spanish: she understands maybe 60% of the rants on Twitter. also Brazilian Portuguese because they’re kind of similar

a lot of these are limited to reading because she doesn’t have someone to practice with </3 and none of them can pass as fluency but trust, she can read and listen

btw her contrast between 3x13, 3x11 and 3x17 hints on her being Hived, which i think is cool

[literaryvein-reblogs]

How to Write a Character

For creative writing to have as deep an impact as possible, you need to give the reader strong characters they can relate to on a personal level.

By borrowing from tried-and-true character archetypes and giving them your personal spin, you can create heroes, villains, and sidekicks that will affect your readers as if they were real people they knew.

Come up with a backstory

Crafting a backstory can help you flesh out an interesting character profile.

“When I’m dealing with characters,” says legal thriller author David Baldacci, “and I’m trying to explain somebody's situation and motivations, you have to look into their past, because [the] past always drives motivations.”

Ask what experiences your character had in elementary school or high school that shaped who they are today. Your character’s backstory can greatly inform your plot.

Develop a character arc

A character must evolve throughout a story.

“The character has to change,” insists crime fiction writer Walter Mosley. “The character doesn’t have to become better. The character doesn’t have to become good. It could be the opposite. He could start good and become bad. He could start off hopeful and end up a pessimist. But he has to be impacted by this world that we’re reading about.”

Plan out your storyline based on your character's goals and how achieving or not achieving them will change them as people. This sort of template can help anchor your narrative.

Do research

If you plan to set your story in a specific locale or period, do enough research to make your characters seem true to life and believable.

“What does it mean, for instance, in the Tudor era to be a male person?” asks Margaret Atwood, author of The Handmaid’s Tale. “What does it mean to be a female person? What do those things mean when they’re at different social levels?”

Empathize with your characters

No matter what the type of character you’re developing, try to find some reason you and your reader can relate to their internal conflict.

“You’re living with these people every single day for months at a time—in some cases, years at a time,” says acclaimed children’s author Judy Blume. “You had better feel for them. So, for me, yes, I have great empathy for them.”

When people can empathize with characters, they’re more likely to find them compelling.

Experiment with different approaches

If you usually write characters from a particular point of view (or POV), change things up to challenge yourself.

“Write about someone entirely through the eyes of their friends and family,” suggests journalist Malcolm Gladwell. “So do a profile of someone where you deliberately never talk to the person that you’re profiling.”

There are plenty of ways to craft compelling character descriptions—free yourself up to try new alternatives.

Give your characters flaws

To craft believable characters, you need to give them flaws.

“One, it makes the characters human, just by default, because everybody recognizes that we all have flaws and mistakes,” David says. “But two, it gives you plot elements and plot opportunities because somebody makes a mistake. Why? Because they’re flawed.”

Learn from real people

Pay attention to real people’s mannerisms, personality traits, body language, and physical appearances.

Do research, and be respectful, when you want to write characters with backgrounds that you are not familiar with. Become familiar with different people's cultures, sexual orientations etc.

Talking to people about their experiences will help form your character’s personality.

Let your characters surprise you

Character development can proceed down a host of different avenues.

“Spend a lot of time with your characters and getting to know them,” Judy suggests. “And the way that you get to know them can be different from the way I get to know them. But my way is: They don’t come alive until I write about them, until I put them down on paper.”

As you write, your character’s motivation or perspective might change from what you originally planned.

Play characters off each other

Ask yourself how a secondary character’s personality might thwart the main character’s motivation.

“One of the best ways, as I said, to develop a character is to put that character in relationship to another person,” Walter says. “So as they talk, as they fight, as they work together, we find out more about who they are and what they are.”

The character’s close friends, adversaries, and acquaintances might all have different effects on their behavior.

Take an organic approach

Over the course of the story, be ready for your characters to surprise you as much as the people you know in real life might, too.

Your characters may take on a life of their own.

Avoid static characters by letting yours have their own lives and personalities. Let their stories take you where they lead.

Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[f1goat]

more than friends ; lando norris + part twelve

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten / part eleven

“Fuck.” Lando can’t hold back this time. The word leave his mouth before he can think about it. He wants to intervene, but he knows he can’t. If it was up to him, he would drag you away and fuck you until you can’t even spell Pierre anymore, but that’s not something he can do. At least, not anymore. He fucked it up. 

Oscar sends him a pitiful look, but doesn’t say anything. His teammate knows that something has changed between Lando and you, but he doesn’t know what. Oscar wishes he knew, he feels like he needs to help the two of you before everything is broken. He keeps looking at Lando, waiting for him to snap and to say something, but nothing happens. All of Lando his focus is on you - and on Pierre who’s dancing with you. 

Lando sighs. He wants to cry. If he thinks about what happened long enough, then maybe he’ll cry for real. He feels the gaze of Oscar his eyes burning on his back. Maybe he should talk with his teammate. Maybe Oscar can help? He doubts it, but there are no other options. Maybe Oscar is his last hope. When he turns himself to Oscar, the boy is already waiting for him to speak up. 

“I think I lost her,” Lando stammers. He has never said words like this before, never have words felt this painful to say out loud, it breaks him down even further. 

“What happened?” Oscar asks. 

“I fucked it up,” Lando sighs. 

+++

“Lan?” “Yeah?”

“I uh, I was wondering how this will continue between us?” You ask a bit careful, “I mean are we going to continue to have sex or are we going back to how things where? It feels like you’ve learned me quite a lot and I don’t know what will happen now, you know?” The words are coming out like a mess, you can only hope that Lando understands what you mean. Maybe this is your coward way of asking Lando if he wants to make things different. 

Lando doesn’t know what to say. He realizes that this is the moment to come clean about his feelings for you, but he doesn’t. “Uh, we can continue like this?” He suggests at first. 

“But what will happen then?” You ask, “How will it affect our friendship?”

“The same as now, right?” Lando doesn’t know where you’re going with the questions. 

“But we can’t always stay friends who fuck, right?” You question. An annoyed feeling creeps up. Why doesn’t Lando understand your deeper meaning? 

“There are plenty people who do so, it’s called friends with benefits,” Lando informs you. He almost slaps himself for telling it so casual, why isn’t he confessing about his feelings? Why can’t he find the right words and tell you? 

“I know what that is,” you sigh, “but do you want that for us? What will happen if you meet another girl? Or if you’re done with me? I mean it feels like some sort of endless situation which will only slow us down at one point. What if our friendship gets in the way?”

Lando tries to follow all the questions, but he doesn’t know if every one of them actually got into his mind. It feels like it’s all too much. What are you saying? Why are you talking about him with another girl? Does that mean you want to search for a boyfriend yourself? In some weird way he convinces himself that it must mean that you want a boyfriend - someone else then him. 

“You can just say so if you want a boyfriend and want to stop this with me,” he eventually snickers to you. 

You show Lando a confused look. “That’s not what I’m saying?” You react surprised.

“No, but it is what you actually mean with your words, isn’t it?” Lando continues. He feels himself getting frustrated. Why did he even have hope that things would end different? Suddenly he’s glad that he didn’t confess his feelings, you would have turned him down anyway. 

“Lan, that’s bullshit,” you reply a bit annoyed, “I’m just saying that this is an hopeless situation. I need some clearance.” 

“Okay, here is your clarity,” Lando spits the words out, “We’re not fucking anymore, we’re just friends and you can find yourself some boyfriend to fuck with.” His voice gets louder with every word he says. What he doesn’t notice until it’s too late, is the way you look at him. Tears are rolling over your cheeks. 

“If that’s what you want,” you softly mutter, “then that’s fine.”

Lando doesn’t think before he talks. He speaks up with only angry and frustrated feelings inside of him to do the thinking right now. “Apparently it’s what you want,” he states angrily. 

“I uh, I need some time for myself,” you softly say, barely being able to hold back your cries. “I’ll see you later in the club.”

With those words you walk away from Lando. He watches you leave. It almost feels like some stupid movie scene. Lando watches how you walk away from him, dressed in a beautiful dress - that was already starring in his plans for when the two of you came back to the hotel room tonight. He feels a small tear rolling down on his cheek. Why did you leave? No, he can’t ask himself a question as stupid as that. You left because he accused you of the most stupid shit, just because he was too afraid to tell you about his feelings. Again. Fuck, he should have told you. He thinks about running after you, but when he opens the door he notices that you’re already gone. 

He wonders how you’re going to the club, since you told him that you’d see him there. How are you going to get there in a strange country where you don’t know anyone expect a few drivers? Lando sighs. He starts to worry about you. Hurriedly he changes his outfit and makes himself ready to also head to the club. He needs to make things right. 

+++

“Fuck man,” Oscar sighs, “That’s so fucking stupid.”

“I know,” Lando confesses, “I don’t know what I was thinking.. Fuck. How am I going to fix this?”

Oscar doesn’t respond at first. It gives Lando the time to take another look at you again. You’re still dancing with Pierre. The Alpine driver is almost pressed against your body, Lando feels himself getting angry. Why him? You have been with Pierre since Lando saw you again. The looks you send him when he tried to approach you said enough. You’re not in the mood to talk with him. 

“Just confess mate,” Oscar eventually says, “You can’t make things worse right? Just explain everything to her.” 

“But.”

“No buts,” Oscar interrupts, “just be honest with her.” 

Lando sighs. He can’t look away from you. He notices the way Pierre moves his head to get closer to your neck so he can press his lips against it. Lando hopes his marks are still somewhere on your body. Fuck, that seems really territorial, but he can’t blame himself for thinking like this. 

“Lando, go to her,” Oscar states again, “Staring and acting like some mad caveman won’t help you.” 

He sees Pierre moving again. This time holding you closely in front of himself. It looks like he wants to kiss you. Is he going to try to kiss you? Fuck. Lando wants to do many things. Walk away and stop watching so he can’t see it happen or walking as fast as he can towards you and pull you away from Pierre. When he continues to watch, he notices that you finally seek eye contact with him. Then he notices your look. Are you asking him for help? It seems like you’re really uncomfortable. Or is he just imagining things to make this better for himself? 

Lando stops thinking. He almost sprints towards you and Pierre, leaving Oscar by himself while doing so. When he’s standing in front of you, he still doesn’t think about his next movements. Lando grabs your wrist, pulls you towards himself and tries to walk away with you. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask him. 

“Mate fuck off,” Pierre sneers, “you’ve had your chance.” 

“Lando, you can’t just drag me away from Pierre. It doesn’t work like that!” You yell annoyed. A small part in you hopes that Lando does drag you away from Pierre. After all, the only reason you’re dancing this close with Pierre is to cause a reaction by Lando. But you don’t know what will happen after.

“Watch me,” Lando grunts. Easily he lifts you up and puts you halfway on his shoulder. Holding you close he starts to walk away from Pierre. “Can’t just drag you away,” he mutters annoyed, “As if I’m going to look at him with my girl any longer.” He puts his hand on your ass, making sure no one can see anything from underneath your dress. The small gesture makes you smile.

When he passes Oscar, he notices the way his teammate is almost laughing out loud. “Fucking caveman,” Oscar is quick to tell him before Lando continues walking with you on his shoulder. “Just confess!” Oscar yells when Lando walks away from him. 

You really don’t know what to think right now. Yes, you did want a reaction from Lando. Yes, you did want to annoy him until he would finally snap. But did you want it to end up like this? You don’t know if you’re honest. Not that you expected such a big reaction from Lando. He literally put you onto his shoulders to take you away with him. That seems a bit much, right? When Lando reaches his rental car, he opens the passenger door and puts you down on the ground again. It’s obvious that he wants you to take place in the car, but you don’t. 

“Y/N,” Lando groans, “I swear to god, go sit in the fucking car.” 

“Why?” You ask him. 

“Because we’re going to talk.”

“We did talk,” you sigh, “and you made yourself perfectly clear. We’re not fucking anymore so I can find myself a boyfriend, since that’s what I want according to you.”

“Correction, I’m going to fuck away this terrible attitude of yours and then we’re going to talk.”

You don’t say anything. Maybe because this is kinda what you wanted? Who can blame you. Lando is fucking hot when he’s mad. Quietly you step in to the car.

The car ride is in an awkward silence. Lando his hand lays on your thigh. It feels like he’s marking you as his with the simple move, but you don’t know who he expects to reach since it’s just to two of you. His eyes are switching between you and the road. You’re also looking at him. At first you tried not to since you’re mad at him, but when you gave him a small look you couldn’t stop anymore. 

The harsh conversation between the two of you isn’t longer then a couple hours ago, but you can see it’s impact on Lando. Or maybe it’s the impact from watching at Pierre and you? At first you never knew when Lando cried or how to spot the signs that he was about to. But after being his friend for so many years, you now know. Lando looks like a mess. Your mess. 

It feels weird when you enter Lando and yours hotel room again. Both of you don’t know what to say. It makes you annoyed when Lando keeps pacing around and doesn’t say anything. And doesn’t fuck you. 

“I thought you were going to do something?” You ask him, “Or do I need to get myself back to Pierre to get fucked?” You don’t know where you found those words and how they end up leaving your mouth, but at least Lando isn’t pacing around anymore. 

He feels like he lost all of his sanity right now. Lando rushes towards you and harshly lifts you up again, only to throw you onto the bed. He turns you so you’re laying on your stomach and pulls you closer to himself. Within seconds your dress is pulled up and Lando his bottoms are hanging around his legs. He tugs on your thongs until they fall apart. Satisfied he looks at your snapped string. 

Before you can say anything about it, Lando makes sure that your ass is lifted in the air. Without any sort of warning or foreplay he lets his dick enter you. It causes you to let out a loud scream, “Fuck Lando!” He doubts for a bit about himself and his actions, but when you follow that scream with multiple moans, his doubts are quick to disappear. He fucks you without thinking about being soft, nice or anything like that. It’s animalistic. He has lost all his patience and can only focus on fucking you as hard as he can manage. 

“Fucking slut,” he grunts when he hears a loud moan from you. 

“Your slut, sir,” you say softly. You almost don’t dare to say it. When you feel Lando his pace decreasing, you feel ashamed of your words.

“What did you just say?” Lando asks you. He’s barely fucking you anymore, rarely he moves his dick in and out of you. He needs to make sure that he heard you right. 

“Your slut, sir,” you tell him again.

“Fuck,” Lando mutters, “Only mine?” 

“Yes,” you agree with him.

“Not Pierre’s?” Lando continues to ask.

“No,” you quickly state, “Wanted you to snap.”

Lando lets out a low chuckle after hearing your words. You wanted him to snap? He doesn’t know what you mean with that, but he does know you just said that Pierre’s not even close to him. He pulls back a bit, letting his dick leave your body. It causes you to let out a soft whine. Lando turns you around and looks at you. You already look fucked out. 

“Baby girl,” Lando mutters softly, “You’re the actual worst.” Lando stays silent for a couple seconds before speaking up again. “Should punish you for those actions,” he says. 

“What’s stopping you?” You ask Lando. 

“You,” Lando chuckles. 

You show Lando a confused look. What does he mean with that? Lando takes place to you next on the bed. Softly he grabs your waist and pulls you on his lap. Careful he presses a few kisses against your neck and shoulders. He moves his hands on your body. Kneading your tits and softly pulling on your nipples. It causes you to let out multiple soft moans and whines. You want - no need, more of him. 

“Lan,” you softly speak up. 

“I know, I know,” Lando replies, “but be patient baby.”

“Aren’t you mad anymore?” You ask confused. You still don’t get why Lando is all calmed down after your confession of using Pierre to make him snap. Could it be that he feels more calm now he knows that you only think about him?

“What did you mean with making me snap?” Lando asks you. 

“What you just did,” you explain, “fucking me like you own me. Snapping at Pierre and me, dragging me away only to show me and everyone else that you think I belong to you. Showing how you actually feel. Just waiting for you to tell me.”

You know you’re passing the safe way back now. With everything you just said, Lando can probably fill in the blanks himself. It should be pretty obvious now how you feel about him. You can only hope that you got Lando his feelings right as well. You’re putting a lot of fate in Oscar right now. In the mean time you move yourself, getting off Lando his lap and taking a seat next to him on the bed.

After your earlier discussion with Lando, you left and got to Oscar his hotel room. Together with him you made up this plan. Oscar was sure that only a bit of dancing with Pierre would make Lando snap within minutes. It took a bit longer, but eventually Oscar was right. Now he only has to be right about Lando his feelings for you…

“You want that?” Lando asks you confused. 

You only show him a small nod. 

“You really wanted me to act like this?” Lando continues to ask, he still can’t believe it. When you nod again, Lando doesn’t stop with his questions. “You actually wanted me to act like some sort of jealous caveman?” 

“I didn’t expect you to put me onto your shoulder,” you confess, “but I wanted you to show me that I belong to you.”

“Why?” Lando asks confused, “I really don’t get it babygirl. Like, I don’t even understand why I’m acting like this and I actually feel ashamed for it - but you, you like it? You want this?”

“It gives me hope,” you tell Lando. 

“Hope?” He asks confused.

“Hope that you like me back.”

Lando doesn’t know if he hears you correct. Did you actually say that it gives you the hope that he likes you back? Likes you back? That means that you like him, right? Lando really can’t wrap his head around everything that’s happening right now. He thought you would be mad at him. Mad for the way he acted earlier today and for what he said. Mad for the way he acted in the club. But you are glad that he acted this way and you’re telling him that you like him? Is this even real? Isn’t he still standing in the club, looking at Pierre dancing with you and imagining this to make it feel better? He can’t even help himself and softly pinches some skin on his arm. 

“I’ve said too much,” you say when Lando keeps quiet, “The hint is clear Lan. Sorry for the way I acted. Sorry for falling for you, I hope we still can be friends?” 

Just when Lando thought he was finally processing everything you just said, you’re saying stuff like this. He thinks about telling you how much he likes you too, but eventually he lets his actions speak for himself. Softly he grabs your shoulders and pulls you back on his lap again. This time you’re turned the way he can properly face you. Lando softly puts his finger underneath your chin and lifts your face up a bit. Then he presses his lips against yours. He kisses you the most loving way he can. 

When Lando puts his lips onto yours, you wonder if this means what you think it does. Is this Lando his way of showing you that he does like you back? 

You show Lando a small grin when he pulls back and looks at you. “I never want to be friends with you again,” Lando mutters with a cheeky smile. If he wasn’t smiling like crazy, you would have stressed right now. “I really need you to be my girlfriend babygirl,” Lando continues, “and I really need everyone to know that you’re mine so they will finally stop flirting with you.” 

“You want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask Lando with a happy expression. 

“I need you to be my girlfriend,” he states. 

“Okay boyfriend,” you reply. 

“But now I really want to feel your cunt around my dick again,” Lando tells you cheekily. You let out a soft laugh. You position yourself a bit different, then you line up Lando his boner with your entrance and slowly let him enter you again. 

+++

The following morning Lando patiently waits for you to wake up as well. He hasn’t slept as good as last night in a couple months. He feels ten times better then before. It’s mostly a relieved feeling now that the two of you finally confessed. When you open your eyes slowly, you notice that Lando is already awake and staring at you. 

“Good morning girlfriend,” Lando whispers when you look at him. 

You show him a small smile. “Good morning boyfriend,” you reply.

Lando presses a soft kiss against your lips. “I can get used to this,” he tells you. 

“You better do,” you laugh, “It’s not like I’m going to let go of you anytime soon.”

“I love you,” Lando sighs relieved. “Oh that’s probably a bit soon to say,” he adds quickly after realizing what he just said. 

“I love you too Lan,” you tell him, “and I think you could have said it way sooner.” 

Lando grins. He pulls you close towards himself and hugs you. “I could fall asleep all over again, but we have a flight to catch.”

Later that afternoon when the two of you are sitting in the plane, Lando has been quite busy on his phone. You look curious at him, wondering what he’s doing. Before you can ask him, Lando speaks up. “I’m going to hard launch us,” he states, “Okay?”.

“Okay.”

a/n;

that was it everyoneee :') hope y'all liked this story

i do want to write further, but for this moment i have no inspiration about what i'm going to write now (expect that it's about lando ofc). so any idea is welcome ! thanks for all the likes, comments & reblogs

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[milessunflowers]

Hi! I really love your work a lot! I wanted to request lestappen x autistic male reader who is a race engineer. But used to drive carts and a team is short a test driver so y/n is forced to test the car and crashes and gets a sensory overload and Lestappen is right there to comfort him?

yes! i can absolutely do this!

max verstappen x autistic!male!reader x charles leclerc

synopsis: you only drove an f1 car a handful times, and even then it was too much for you. crashing is ten times worse

author's note: this is basically based on how i am when i get a sensory overload so i apologize if it isn't how you pictured it or how any of you handle it. this is just based off my experience. as always, feel free to keep requesting!

you usually only worked as an aston martin race engineer for fernando

sometimes you would be a test/reserve driver but that was really rare

in reality, it was way too much for you to drive the car without panicking

luckily for you, you didn't have to swap places with one of the drivers all that often

plus you had amazing boyfriends that supported you and knew exactly how to help you when it came to overstimulation or overwhelming situations

which also included the high intensity that came with testing out an f1 car

so, when aston martin was short one test driver, they looked to you

you don't even know how you ended up in the car

but you did

you were used to being outside, helping to lead fernando and keeping him updated

now there was someone talking in your ear on top of the very overwhelming sound of the engine and the fast speeds

it was a lot for you

you could feel it happening before you even spun out

you were starting to panic which never eneded up good

you tried to think back to what your therapist had helped you learn and how charles and max help you but nothing was coming

it was all getting to the point where you jerked the wheel and hit a wall

you came out fine, just with some minor bruises

but you were so overwhelmed that you had to immediately find your boyfriends

even that proved to be difficult

so you sat in your garage, trying hard not to breakdown

no one could come near you without scaring you or making it worse

not until someone found max, who then brought charles

once they were in to come calm you down, you basically jumped onto them

they had brought your comfort item (toy, stuffed animal, etc.)

which you immediately grabbed to help calm yourself down

they were saying sweet little comments that help to calm you down always

it took a while to soothe you but they were there for you through it all

they hugged you when it was okay to touch you again

they rubbed your back in case you didn't want to be hugged

they made sure you weren't in a load or busy environment

and they let you take you time when you wanted to or could talk again

they just wanted to make sure you were okay

TAGS! (if you want to be added, lmk!)

@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m, @spoonfulofmilo, @seonghwaexile

[cerastes]

Monster Hunter World - Drimo Edition

I am going to sum up my thoughts of the pre-post game, base game experience of Monster Hunter World as someone who used to actively dislike Monster Hunter and who, in the last 2 weeks, has had a veritable blast with Monster Hunter World, and who defeated Xeno'jiiva last night. Most of the intended readers for this are familiar with my background, but in case an unrelated reader finds this to be something they'd like to read, a fast and dirty breakdown of my background is that I am in love with fast action games and in true love with FromSoft games, by which I mean not just Soulsborne, but also Armored Core, Shadow Tower and King's Field (and The Adventures Of Cookie & Cream, but that one's not important here), having grown up with FromSoft well before Demon's came out: The first Armored Core for the PS1 is a childhood favorite of mine and my first FromSoft title. I have done speedruns of Dark Souls 1, have cleared DS1, Bloodborne and DS3 in no level up challenges, and DS2 in a no death challenge. This intro is not to stroke my epic gamer penis, rather, it is to contrast this experience with my Monster Hunter experience prior to World: I gave Tri a go, and I did not like it, dropped it fast, then many years later, I gave Rise's demo a try and did Not Jive With It. I am a Complete Noob when it comes to MH. I want to credit @kc5rings for selling me an extremely compelling look into this game franchise I had basically written into my No Flight List and made me want to give it one last, third try. I want to thank @lc87 and @fractalanimus for playing the game with me when the time came to do sidequests, grind out some rare drops, and in general teach me the finer minutia of MH that you only learn through word of mouth, experience, or looking up guides, the last of which I'm allergic to. Three Wonderful People! And I want to thank a lot of different people in my notes through the Posting Of MH World that gave me different useful tips.

Very long post to it'll be under a cut.

The first thing I want to say, after this foreplay, is that to everyone that, through more than a decade, told me "dude you like Dark Souls, play Monster Hunter, you also dodge attacks, you'll like it!", you do not know how to sell your game. These games have a few overlaps, but they are very, very different beasts, they play fundamentally different and dare I say opposite in many regards. The moment I stopped trying to play Dark Souls in Monster Hunter, no, the moment I stopped trying to apply my prior knowledge of nearly all action games in Monster Hunter, was the moment it really started to click that this is more of an action positional turn based game than an action game. In Dark Souls, for example, you and enemies have really good tracking and adjustment, and even in Dark Souls 1, a game slow by the modern standards of the formula, you find speed similar to the fastest in the base World -- I've not played Iceborne -- there is a relation of economy of action and speed of action equals the amount of turns you can take. You take turns in Soulsborne as well, but the way you take and steal them is by knowing your attack speed, how many times you can swing and roll before running out of stamina, and how these factors interact with each of the enemy's attacks. This is reactive turn based action combat, where your main way of staying alive is properly timing your i-frames to the enemy's moves and then not overextending your stamina usage so you can both attack and get ready for the next affront. In Monster Hunter, you have way fewer i-frames, but conversely, both Hunter and Monster are extremely committal in their attacks, there's almost no adjustment, and the relation is instead economy of action and position instead of speed of action: Faster and less positionally important moves are weaker proportional to their convenience (Dual Blades, Bow for example), slower and more positionally important moves are vice versa stronger due to how inconvenient they are (Great Sword TCS). Your main way to evade attacks is to move to where you shouldn't be and not being there; your have a super high i-frame universal option in the sprinting dive, but this is entirely defensive and sacrifices your turn for a very safe move, which is antithetical to the offensive defense MH likes to encourage.

Once it clicked, the combat went from "holy fuck this feels awful to play" to "ohh this makes so much sense", initially there was a certain desperation of me trying to do things Fast because I like playing Fast, but that only resulted in missing attacks nonstop. You don't need to be Fast because nothing is Fast in this game. And just like Dual Blades and Bow, if a Monster is Fast And Its Attacks Are Convenient, it comes with a price tag: Odogaron and Tobi Kadashi are fast! But they are VERY linear, and what few moves they have that swipe or hit horizontally, they telegraph three business days in advance. Odogaron attacks 1 to 4 times in strings depending on its HP, but all you need to do is Move To The Side for the most part. Hunter and Monster follow the same rules, but you have to follow the rules! In fact, the reason Deviljho is so dangerous is because it doesn't follow the rules with its advancing body slam and with the Beat A Motherfucker With A Mother Fucker mode; Body Slam comes out relatively quickly compared to how it makes its entire body because a meteor sized hitbox advancing at you. And even then, it has a tell that gives you enough time to Move Out Of The Way (depending on where it cocks it head before the slam, it swerves left or right, meaning you can dodge towards the side its head is to get out of the way), as for the Holding A Monster, it gets insane and fast horizontal attacks, meaning disarming it is essential (Flash Pod).

Now, the flow of the game felt pretty good, but what I like the most: Scoutflies. For an environment rich in detail, Scoutflies allow you to properly parse the world without needing to strain your eyes by giving you all sorts of useful info and highlighting items of interest in the environment. The more you learn about a monster, the easier they track it for you. This is great, because, personally, I like the Fighting Part of the game more than the Tracking Part of it... But! The breathing living nature of World was still very fun to engage with.

In terms of difficulty, I think the game was pretty tame. It lives and dies by its rules, and I think the postgame will disrupt that with its superbosses and such, but at least the base experience was very strictly tied to the rules of combat. That doesn't mean it's boring, it was incredibly fun! Engaging with the rules per each Monster's needs means not only having to know the rules well, but also to be able to identify where a monster is not following them! So, for example, Odogaron overcommits, Xeno'jiiva has a tool for everything but only mediocre tools, Teostra is strong from the front and back but very weak from the flanks, Nergigante has good attacks but they are all highly telegraphed with high start up, Kirin has insane damage output options but can only land them on Stun, and so on. Just like your weapons diversify how you engage -- and skip some of -- the rules, so do Monsters. It's an incredibly level field between you and the Monster, almost like a fighting game where you can't pick half of the cast and the AI can't pick your half.

Initially, I thought the rhythm of having to grind the fuck out of stuff was going to make me hate it; the thing is, the fights were sufficiently fun for me to not mind doing some Monster fights several times in order to craft the gear I wanted, and this gear didn't need to get replaced often, that's great! However, this does lead to something the game disappointed me with: Weapons. The vast majority of weapons don't look good, and are small variations of the same base model for the tree. Sure, you got your Kirin Bolts and Bazelgeuse Hachets, but the majority is just... Generic weaponry with small modifications. In fact, Xeno'jiiva, the freaking final boss, doesn't get unique weapons! What the actual hell. The armor is great, but man, big fumble on the weapons to be frank!

The story is obviously just there, and the Handler -- I hope on purpose -- legitimately just exists as an entity that gets in trouble for you to see a Monster being dangerous for a while. But I didn't hate it or anything! It's Just There as a wrapper for the Monsters and the Hunters. This is pretty explicit, I think, considering all monster are named yet no human/wyverian is named. The only non-monsters with names are your Hunter and your Palico (Big Al my man). That said, I appreciated the angle of the story! We are a research commission, we are here to Learn Shit and not kill god, because god is part of the ecosystem, it's just Nature. It's Animals. We don't fuck with the environment, except when something has already fucked with it in ways that will be catastrophic to Everyone Involved, so we get involved to Unfuck It. I like that.

Overall, my experience with the game was very positive, and I am happy to have given this game a try. These two weeks have been pretty busy for me, but getting home and carving Odogaron and Deviljho to get those damn parts I am missing (Deviljho Scalp is rarer than Deviljho Gem, the spirits told me) has been a pretty fun activity to destress and beat the fuck out of Monsters with cool moves.

The Thing Is,

I Get It Now.

I get why you like this.

Looking forward to doing the rest of High Rank and then Iceborne and later on playing Rise!

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Hi, I used to write a lot as a teenager because I thought that I had all the "cool stuff" still to come in life and it was OK for me to just imagine it for now. However, as I got older I found that I couldn't write anymore because the more I tried to be authentic, the more I realised that I had no experience of any of the stuff I was writing about. I wanted to write about someone like me, and I wanted people to want to read it, but I felt like no one would be interested in reading something where there is no "happy ending" or lesson learned. Fast forward a decade and now I have an autism diagnosis and the disconnect from others finally makes sense, but my question is how do I write if I don't know how to fully resolve the problems I'm writing about? I understand that writing doesn't have to be 100% from experience, but I feel that I at least need to be able to imagine the scenario in which a person with similar limitations to me could make it to a satisfactory conclusion. I miss writing but I don't want to solve all my main characters problems by having her meet someone who understands her and then they partner up and hey everything is fine now. Would people be happy to read about the struggles someone has without needing a nice victorious conclusion? Maybe stories like this already exist but I just haven't found them yet, any recommendations? I don't want to wait until I've figured out life, the universe and everything to start writing again since I probably will never get there.

Chuck Tingle (yes, that Chuck Tingle) has written often and openly about having autism. The Autism Books by Autistic Authors Project works on tracking books by autistic authors specifically about autistic characters, and that might be a great place to start. They've got fiction, non-fiction, graphic novels - you name it!

Another thing I think you're struggling with is the opinion of a non-existent reader-base. It's so easy to worry that your stories won't make people happy ahead of time, but you're letting that get in the way of your writing. If you write for yourself, telling the stories you want to tell, there are going to be people out there who will want to read them.

Don't let fear hold you back - there's going to be people who want your work! They can't find you if you don't tell the stories you want to tell, in the way you want to tell them. You can do this!

[lsd-astronaut]

Books the LoTR characters would read:

First of all, a disclaimer: this is my own opinion and I will not care if you think otherwise. Second of all, I always gift books to my friends and family, and I've never got a complaint, so that has to count for something. I'm also putting some of my favourite books but that's just me of course ♡

Frodo:

Sloggiest classical high fantasy books you can find. Yknow these '90s fantasy books with like eleven books in a series, and each book is at least 500 pages long? He would love that.

I'm currently reading the first book of Crown of Stars (seven books baby), which is like an alternate fantasy medieval Europe, with lots of details and research done and it's super gritty and entertaining. Frodo would inhale that. The rest of the Fellowship are worried for him, they haven't seen him in days.

Sam:

Fantasy and poetry because he's cool like that.

Something not to complicated like Uprooted by Naomi Novik, and then he will surprise you by reading something super dark like Blood Over Bright Haven by M.L. Wang.

Also really likes literary fiction. Idk he strikes me as someone who would like reading about people's lives, and a plot where the action is less important than the characters evolution. Tried to read weird lit but didn't like that the main themes were rot and body fluids, it reminds him of Frodo during the Quest.

Merry:

I'm basing this on personal experience; but every time I see a cute guy either on the bus or on the Friday train, they'll be reading something like Marcus Aurelius' Meditations, or something by Hemingway, which does not strike trust, and it's a bit pretentious and on the nose. Like are you really reading Marcel Proust for fun? Be honest with me, my guy, you looked gay (for legal reasons this is a joke).

He likes non-fiction. Some of the books he has are Tristes Tropiques by Claude Lévi-Strauss; Folie et déraison by Michel Foucault; and he once even started talking about how he didn't really agree with Freud's Introductory Lectures on Psychoanalysis. The glare that the rest of the Fellowship gave him could have killed Sauron on the spot.

Pippin:

I doubt his AuDHD allows him to read anything really dense (or maybe he hyperfixates so badly that he reads one book in less than 12 hours who knows)

Graphic novels and comics are a must in his bookshelf! Eventually becomes a Marvel brainrot fan, to the dismay of everyone else, especially Aragorn who has to pay for the merch.

YA fantasy bc I'm taking into account his age. Percy Jackson hyperfixation and that's why he's gay now (again a joke)

Aragorn:

Romantasy but not of his own volition, he is just a really good partner, and Arwen seems to me like a romantasy girlie. Poor guy has been forced to read A Court of Thorns and Roses, and Fourth Wing, and Powerless. Put the limit at Colleen Hoover (not saying that Arwen likes her either, she just likes to make Aragorn suffer like a good gf). Will deny again and again to the rest of the Fellowship that he likes any of these books, and once even drew his sword at Boromir.

Legolas:

These random ass raunchy period romance books you find on your mother's bookcase just lying there and you read them out of curiosity and end up learning about things you should not be aware of yet, and they're not even written well but you can't stop reading. Chick lit, if you want.

Has read the Bridgerton books multiple times.

Gimli:

Science fiction. Gets really nerdy about alien invasions, but it's not like he believes in any conspiracy theory of course. Legolas barely understands what he's talking about half of the time but who cares when your boyfriend is that cute.

He loves and actually understands pretty well space operas. The Final Architecture trilogy by Adrian Tchaikovsky, and Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir are favourites of his.

Boromir:

Sports romance. HOCKEY. He just likes the whole "turn off your brain to enjoy this" honestly, he needs a break sometimes of course!

Read Vampire Academy out of curiosity and really liked it, though he does admit it and Faramir will act like he doesn't know him (it's actually a good saga I'm sorry okay)

Faramir:

This guy right here owns the entire Realm of the Elderlings book saga. It pains me to admit that he would relate a lot with Fitz.

Heartstopper by Alice Oseman because he's not dead inside, okay?

Éowyn:

Really basic sorry but she is a Hunger Games girlie through and through.

Actually, I feel she would like dystopian fiction a lot. Has watched Divergent (only the first movie, the rest are trash) with Faramir more times than she can count. Faramir gets cold sweats whenever he hears something that reminds him of the movie (he knows the dialogues by heart)

Éomer:

Yes, yes, I know Rohirrim don't read or write, BUT he would own all the Valdemar books by Mercedes Lackey. Why, do you ask? Well, purely because it's a fantasy series of mages that are Chosen by their Companions, which are white horses. And Éomer is a good ol' horse girl so what more could he ask for.

[sibyllinebooks]

stiles x autistic!partner hcs

a/n: april is autism awareness month and i wanted to do smth with our favorite boy! 🫶🏻 reader has lower support needs ( as this is based off of my experience as an autistic person with lower support needs ). not everything will be applicable to all readers.

he’s not unfamiliar with autism, exactly. he knows a lot of his adhd traits intersect with autism traits, but he’s never had a reason to explore it further.

until you.

when he learns that you’re autistic, he goes on one of his adhd deep dives ( sort of like when he went on the werewolf dive when scott was first bitten ).

he knows a LOT about diagnostic criteria ( and sometimes wonders if he himself fits it but that’s for another time ).

he also learns what your dislikes are— tastes, textures, sounds, etc. so he can do his best to keep them away from you. he also knows that are perfectly capable of doing those things yourself but he keeps track anyway because he loves you and he wants to help.

he’s never infantilized you before and he knows that you are your own person. god forbid anyone tries to take your autonomy or imply that because you’re autistic, you can’t do simple things or basic tasks.

but if you do end up needing a little help here and there, he doesn’t mind. he knows what it’s like to struggle with neurodivergence and he’s had a lot of practice with his own. maybe he messes up sometimes but he has good intentions.

he notices shifts in your behavior almost instantly. most of your friend group does but that’s due to supernatural senses; stiles just has an innate focus on you and learns to tell when something is different.

and he does his absolute best to soothe whatever is causing your distress. if some of your classmates are talking too loud or yelling across the cafeteria, he asks to take you outside away from it. or if you’re at a party and suddenly there’s too many people around, he’ll take you to somewhere more secluded. overstimulation is a feeling he knows well, so he sympathizes and does what he can to aid you.

he memorizes a lot of your coping mechanisms. whether it’s the way you tap your fingers together or how you brush the fabric of your skirt back in forth because it’s a texture you like or the rapid onset of blinks that seem to go like clockwork, he knows them all. sometimes he uses them too.

YAP SESSIONS. having an adhd boyfriend is a blessing when it comes to conversation.

he can talk for hours on any of his given topics and so can you. hyperfixations and special interests go hand in hand and god forbid if both of you have the same one at the same time. it happened once and you both ended up staying up all night without realizing it because you were too in depth with your conversation.

and just because he likes to talk, it doesn’t mean he won’t let you talk. sometimes when he needs his brain shut off, he’ll ask you to talk about one of your special interests. not because it bores him, but because he likes listening to the sound of your voice and because your passion for the subject makes it interesting to him. he likes knowing why you enjoy things so much and it helps him when he’s feeling overwhelmed.

he downloaded a text-to-speech app for you for times when you go non-verbal. lydia did too but he was the first because he wanted to make sure that everyone was still able to understand you. communication king.

stiles is REALLY bad at following schedules but if you need one, he makes sure he has it memorized and reminds you when it’s time for something. he can do it for others but when it comes to himself ? not so much.

you went to give him a hug once and his shirt was a fabric/texture you hated, so he threw it away. he wants you to be comfortable around him.

he keeps your safe foods stocked at his house and some in his backpack just in case. once, the cafeteria decided to experiment with the menu and it did not turn out well.

if someone asks “what kind of autism do you have?” he gets defensive. as someone who has dealt with adhd stereotypes and ignorant comments, he hates to see it happen to you.

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 14

Hey guys! Welcome back! So this chapter is getting a little heavy on the angsty side, so just a heads up.

Things have been going great for all the stories especially the Christmas one.

This will be the story that keeps its usual schedule next week. Every other posting day will be finishing up the Olympic Swimmer one. So be on the look out for that.

Also super long chapter!

Steve tries out some hobbies, Joyce pushes, and Steve gets depressed.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

~

Steve would like to say he got right on the job search the next day, but he really didn’t. He woke up refreshed and feeling good about himself. After a run on the treadmill and big breakfast he had already talked himself out needing to.

But instead he decided that he wanted to learn new hobbies. He had the money and pretty much unlimited time so why not?

The first thing he tried felting. Yeah, he had a lot of money, but he wanted to start with something cheap in case he got bored with it.

Taking the kit out of the box, he already ran into a problem. The leather finger gloves were much too small. Like he didn’t have fat fingers or anything but they were much too tight to fit on even his pinkie fingers he turned them inside out to see if he could make them bigger somehow.

He only succeeded in ruining the finger gloves. He tried rubber thimbles as replacements but still the sharp tool would pierce even the tough rubber.

The kit sat abandoned in a corner of his hotel room until one of the porters saw it and asked if he could have it. His sister did the felting all the time and she was having trouble finding colors she liked.

So Steve let him have it. Three days later the porter came back with a bright yellow canary and a female robin. He proudly displayed them on his nightstand next to the phone and alarm clock.

Robin loved them, but refused to take the robin. She said they shouldn’t be separated at any price.

Steve loved her a little bit more when she said that.

The next thing he tried was painting.

That lasted all of six hours before they got handed off to Will. It was a beautiful oil, acrylic, and water color set, with all the paint brushes and pallet and metal wood-handled pallet knives.

It lasted that long was because that was the time it took for Steve to set everything up, including an old sheet Rosa let him have, start painting and promptly knock everything over. The water, the paints, the easel. Everything. He broke the easel, knocked a hole in the canvas, and smeared paint all over the apron he had bought just for the occasion.

Will was happy to receive the paints, but in turn he gave Steve a simple notepad and pencil and taught him how to draw.

Steve liked that.

It was just for doodling and making silly pictures so it didn’t make him feel like a failure. He went to the bookstore and bought a bunch of books on how to draw certain things. Animals, the human figure. He even found this great reference book on clothes sorted based on the English monarch who was in power at the time the were wore.

Which was all well and good, but it wasn’t exactly what he wanted.

One day while he was over at Will’s talking art and whether or not kneaded erasers were worth the pain they caused if you dropped, Ellie introduced him to a new hobby. Will was against the things, Steve was for.

Jonathan huffed, “That’s probably a class issue as Steve here can afford to replace them and Will can’t.”

Steve and Will stared at each other in complete shock, but had to admit that Jonathan was probably right.

“Yeah, okay,” Steve huffed, “that’s fair. I guess I really didn’t think about it because it’s not my money I’m spending.”

“Have you tried looking for a job?” Joyce asked. She didn’t like that someone was paying to keep Steve safe. As nice as it was, in her experience the well tended to dry up when you least expected it to.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mrs. Byers.” Which he had. Yes, he had been focused on trying to learn things that would keep his mind from atrophying, he had also been looking. “If they seen me coming they take down the sign or if they don’t get to it in time, they say it’s an old sign and that they forgot to take it down.”

Joyce’s shoulders slumped in sympathy. The rumor around town is that because Mr. Harrington was the landlord for a lot of the properties that the businesses were on, he had threatened to raise their rent if they gave Steve a job.

Something that all the adults promised not to tell Steve so that he wouldn’t get so discouraged as to not try at all.

But surely Clint Harrington didn’t own every business in Hawkins and she told Steve so.

“No,” Steve huffed. “But he’s friends with ones that he doesn’t. I’m going to try the mall next. Most of the them are franchises and have their main bosses outside of Hawkins.”

She let out a little sigh of relief. It showed that Steve was trying and actively thinking of these types of pitfalls.

Steve shifted uncomfortably. “What have you got there, Ellie?” he asked trying to shift the focus off of him for a moment.

Joyce was watching Ellie while Hopper was at work.

The young girl held up long satin strings of embroidery thread. She had three shades of pink, a white, and a red. She tied the ends to a safety pin that was pinned her leg.

“I’m making friendship bracelets for me and Max,” Ellie said proudly. “The pink is for me, and then I have these colors for her!” She held up blues and purples.

“That’s way cool!” Steve said scooting over to sit next to her.

Jonathan and Will shared a smile. Steve was lost to the shiny allure of friendship bracelets.

“I could teach you if you like,” she said with a smile. “I also have boondoggle!” She held up shiny plastic strips. “I make key chains and other things that need to last a lot longer than the thread.”

Steve really lit up, but then frowned when he saw out intricate it all was. “I’ll never be do anything that fancy.”

Ellie sat closer and pulled out a little paper that she had in her caboodle. “I couldn’t at first either, so I went to the library and took out a book on all the different ways you could plait and how to do boondoggle. Then I copied a couple of the pages I wanted to try.”

She handed it to him and pointed to the easiest. “That’s the one I started with and it will probably take a little bit to get the spacing right.”

Steve tilted his head. “Is this like braiding hair?”

“Yes!” Ellie said excitedly. “That’s right. I forgot you braid Max’s hair all the time. So then it will be easy for you.”

Soon they were off in their own little world.

Joyce watched with her arms crossed and a concerned expression. Jonathan spotted her and shook his head. He stood up and went to stand next to her.

“You’ve got to let it go, Mom,” he said gently. “You aren’t his mom and even if you were, he’s still an adult. As near as anyone of can tell, whoever is footing this bill isn’t in it to exploit Steve, just making sure he’s taken care of.”

Joyce breathed out through her nose as she tried not to snap at her son. She didn’t know that as a fact and Hopper’s reassurances weren’t enough. She hated having to take his word that whoever this was wouldn’t harm Steve. And that galled.

“It’s all the expensive gifts,” she tried to explain. “The car, the unlimited credit card, cash drops weekly, the gold necklace, the hotel. It’s just not right, it’s not decent.”

Jonathan shook his head. “What about all the non-expensive gifts? Things this benefactor thought Steve would like or get a kick out of? Like that little canary with top hat that he keeps on his dashboard? Or all the music tapes they send, thinking Steve might want to try something different. Hell, according to Steve until they left the country, they talked once or twice a day. That doesn’t sound like someone out to hurt him.”

She let out a shuddering sigh. Because Jonathan was right, that didn’t sound like someone trying to use Steve. “I know.”

Jonathan patted on her shoulder and then went into his room, probably to call Nancy. Another person like his mom who worried Steve was being taken advantage of. But even if he was, that was a lesson he was going to have to learn the hard way.

On his own.

Will had long since left to go hang out with Mike while Ellie and Steve made friendship bracelets. He made four. A black, red, and dark grey one for Eddie, a red, a brown, and a light grey one for Robin and two yellow, white, and black ones. So he could one each to Eddie and Robin.

“Those are really pretty, Steve,” Ellie congratulated him. “Those are some interesting color choices.” Spoken as though she was silently judging, but too polite to say so.

He blushed and held up the first one. “This is for my special friend, they are his favorite colors.” Then he held up the second. “And this is for Robin. The colors remind me of a female robin and the last two represent who I am now.”

Ellie blinked for a moment as she took in the information. “I can see that now. Thank you for explaining it to me.”

“I get my thread at Melvand’s,” she said serenely, “if you wanted to continue to make more, that’s where you would go to get your own.”

Steve kissed the top of her head. “Thank you, Ellie.”

He didn’t stay much longer than that, now that both of the other boys were gone, Joyce was keeping too close an eye on him with Ellie. He knew it wasn’t the gay thing as she didn’t mind Will being around her. And it wasn’t being a barely legal adult considering she would gladly leave Jonathan to look over her.

Nope.

It was entirely because she didn’t know who Steve’s mysterious benefactor was. And the thought of this unknown, probably male, person might hear about Ellie later? Yeah, that’s where she drew her invisible line.

Which was bullshit, like with Robin’s mom, Eddie wasn’t going to prey on little girls. He was freaking out about Steve might be underage when they met in the club. But it wasn’t like he could tell Joyce that. She might revoke his time with Will and Ellie if she learned he had been underaged drinking that night. The night Eddie saved him.

Steve went up to his hotel room and flopped face first into his bed. He was tired. Tired of all the questions about finding a job and getting out from under Eddie’s thumb. Like Eddie was financially abusing him or whatever.

He just wanted to bring people to his hotel room and show them all the little things Eddie sent him just because he walked into a gas station and saw something cute he thought he would like. The keychain from Kansas City with his name on it. The bright yellow shirt that said “I don’t take no shit” and had the Iowan state bird of the American goldfinch. That one came with a little note explaining that it was a canary, but the black on the wings reminded Eddie of the deliciously tight black leather pants.

Steve blushed for hours after that one.

He wiggled onto the bed and crawled under the covers without having taken off any of his clothes. Maybe he could hibernate until Eddie got back in America.

~

Steve managed to bury himself under the covers before the porter with the felting sister ripped the blanket off from over his head.

He stared blearily up at the porter. “Martin?” He struggled to sit up, but flopped back down on the pillow in distress. “Just leave me alone.”

“It’s Marty actually,” the porter huffed. “The only people that call me Martin are my boss and my mom. You’re not either.”

“Marty, I just want to go back to sleep.”

Marty pulled the rest of the blankets and yanked Steve off the bed. He went with a startled yelp. He leapt to his feet to fight him, but he saw that Bob and Rosa were standing by his bed with looks of concern on their faces.

“I have the shower running,” Bob said, “you will get in there and at least clean off the sweat you reek of. Then Rosa will change the sheets. Marty will bring up some food while you are showering, then the three of us are staging an intervention, because this isn’t like you!”

Steve opened his mouth to refute that statement, probably something about how no one called the whole time he as sulking.

Bob pulled out a stack of messages. “I have thirteen messages, and that’s only because the answering machine is full.”

Steve looked behind him and sure enough the machine was blinking complete with a full tape.

“Oh.”

He meekly went and did as he was told. He was only going to do a perfunctory wipe down because they were waiting for him, but once he got under the water it felt so good that he began to thoroughly scrub himself down. Normally going without a shower for a couple of days really didn’t do much, but because he had barely moved to pee, he was covered in thin layer of sweat.

He washed his hair and got out of the shower. He dried himself off and put on the long robe Eddie had gotten him. He opened the door and was instantly hit with enticing aroma of chicken noodle soup. He moved out of the bathroom to the main room, lured by the scent of real food.

The sofa was full of the hotel employees so he grabbed his bowl of soup and spoon and sat down on the armchair curled up as small as he could make himself.

“You frightened us, mi corazón,” Rosa huffed. “You weren’t answering your phone, you weren’t ordering food. The only way we could tell you moved at all is that occasionally the cup in the bathroom would be wet or you would be on the other side of the bed.”

Bob nodded. “We were told to look after you, money was no object. That’s what we were told, but you turned out to be kind and generous and frankly better than ninety percent of the patrons here. You treat us like we’re human, so it became our pleasure to serve you. So when you weren’t opening your door to anyone or answering your calls, we knew something was wrong.”

“Sorry,” Steve muttered into his bowl. “I just got so tired of everyone trying to find out who is bankrolling my life style and telling me to get a job that I just didn’t want to deal with it anymore.”

“It’s none of their business,” Rosa huffed. “They’re just jealous that they don’t have this life. I know your papa wants to hurt and all this for you protection, but it seems to me your friends just see the money you...” she snapped her fingers. “What’s the word?”

“I’d use ‘splash around’,” Steve said with a shrug.

“Ehhh,” she knew it wasn’t the word she was looking for but it would have to do. “They see the good. Not the bad. They see new car, but they weren’t there to see you give up your old car. They see the fancy hobbies, but they don’t see your big room and no one to fill it with.”

“She’s right,” Marty said. “I don’t think even the girl that comes with your gifts from Eddie Munson quite understands the crippling loneliness and isolation you have to be feeling right now.”

Steve sniffled into his soup. “Thanks, guys. I don’t know how to impress upon them how dangerous this all is for me. Like the only ones that remotely understand are the Hendersons and that’s because my dad showed up on their doorstep. But even then I don’t think Dustin quite grasps the enormity of it all, but then he’s thirteen so...”

“The only reason your father hasn’t penetrated hotel security,” Bob said with a grimace, “is that the owner, Dr. Sam Owens hates business men like your father. Otherwise, his hold over this town would have extended to here, no doubt about that.”

“So this is what’s going to happen,” Marty said, “if you need to sneak out and just go for a drive to get out of your head, call Bob and he’ll arrange it. If you need someone to talk to ring up Rose or myself. We’re here for you. We understand that Mr. Munson is out of the country right now and it makes it harder, but we’ve got you, okay?”

Steve nodded and said weakly, “Okay!”

~

Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss @blondie1006

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @sadisticaltarts

[gutsluttsbelly]

i kinda wanna start a feedism/feedee OF where i record myself doing stuffings but im super nervous 😞 would u perhaps have any advice ? like what’s a good first price range, how often should i post, etc. ?

base price on how often you post. for me i post in waves! lots and lots of content for a few weeks, multiple posts a day and then some smaller breaks in between. i charge $10 a month! i feel like that reasonable considering i do post a lot but im not posting multiple times a day every single day for months.

charge what you think is fair. if you plan on posting lengthy videos, keeping extremely consistent and make detailed posts maybe go up to $12-$13

if you want to be more chill and laid back, posting when you want to and what you want to in your own time? maybe go for something around $6-$8

and if you wanna try a middle ground effort wise, i’d suggest $10!

advice i have? hm be careful and cautious, there are some very scary people on the internet including in this kink. i’ve had my fair share of bad experiences and you don’t want someone doing something to hurt you in anyway.

people can be mean, i’ve been told to kms or that im boring or whatever. i am able to handle these messages well bc i literally just don’t care 😭 but for some people that might not be a great place to put yourself into

people will always beg for more. no one is ever fully satisfied and you will probably get complaints that you aren’t doing enough even if you do post multiple times a day. there is a constant demand for your content if people enjoy it enough. take this with a grain of salt and just do what feels right to you.

you will learn to ignore. in the beginning i really really tried to interact with EVERYONE even those whom i was maybe a little uncomfortable do so with, just don’t do that. don’t put yourself in a situation that would make you uncomfortable. not every conversation is for you and that is totally fine, especially if it gets to a point where you get hundreds of messages a day.

just have fun. post what you want, answer who you want. it’s not supposed to be something stressful, you just want to let loose and let the feedee piggy out! so do that!

i wish you luck! message me with any questions or if you need advice about something more specific ❤️

[jellymochii]

My Angel

♱ pairings: Guardian Angel!Felix x F!Reader

♱ genre: fluff, angst, smut

♱ cw: smut, cunnilingus, religious themes, mentions of abuse/foster care system.

♱ wc: 4.1k

↪author's note: Hiya! I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors or if it seems rushed, I'm still a new author so any feedback is greatly appreciated! Hope you enjoy :)

**THIS IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION AND DOES NOT REFLECT THE TRUE NATURE OF THE PEOPLE MENTIONED**

*Abrahamic-denoting any or all of the religions (Judaism, Christianity, and Islam) that revere Abraham, the Biblical patriarch.

_______________

An angel's task was always difficult, yet fulfilling. Serving at the right hand of the Lord and doing everything possible to assist humans in gaining access into heaven. Some angels, however, we're granted one of the most difficult tasks of all– becoming a guardian to a human.

The tradition of every abrahamic* Religion states that at birth, a guardian angel is assigned to the human, overseeing the physical and spiritual protection of that individual, as well as encouraging them through various methods to turn back to God. While it can be a daunting task for many, especially the angels who were assigned reckless and bold humans, it was overall a beautiful and rewarding experience for many of the angels, watching their little humans grow and live life to their fullest. 

While it was quite normal for angels to grow quite fond of their little beings, and even experience love for them, becoming in love with them was something that was forbidden entirely, as it represented otherworldly and ungodly desires and lust not suited for the pure kingdom of God. This was something, of course, that a newer guardian angel would quickly learn.

_______________

Life would always find a way to kick you down, no matter how hard you tried to crawl your way back up. Not a single day in your life was free from pain, even on the day you were born.

Growing up in foster care was less than ideal, switching from house to house on a whim, leaving any friends you may have made in that town behind as you started fresh. Some of your foster parents and towns were much more pleasant than others, but living in a cycle of rejection of adoption from everyone led you to spend 18 years of your miserable life in the care of facilities and strangers. You were never wanted, not even by your own parents.

The only people you ever considered to be your true family were a pair of twins in the same boat as you, Hyunjin and Yeji. Much like you, the two never had any luck with getting adopted and struggled a lot with trusting others after what they'd been through, and yet, they welcomed you right in every time you found your way back to the facility after another failed fostering. Once all of you had turned 18, you collectively decided to scrape together moments from part time jobs and rent out a small apartment south of the city, where you'd been residing alongside the Hwang siblings for a while now.

Since the foster facility was highly faith-based, you were always subjected to weekly preachings and visits from the local pastor. He was kind, sure– but he always said that God had a path for all of us, and that everyone would find peace eventually, and that your guardian angel is always watching over you and protecting you. Despite listening intently every Sunday, that peace and protection from the world you were promised never seemed to make its way to you. You were cursed and cast out in the eyes of the Lord, left being the second option to everyone. There was no way in your eyes someone out there could truly love someone like you. And yet, you felt that there was someone out there who desired nothing more than you. It had to exist somewhere. Maybe somewhere, love was right next to you all along.

_________________

There you found yourself that day, umbrella in hand, taking the usual 10 minute commute to your part time job. The pouring downfall certainly wasn't ideal for walking in, but you trudged through nonetheless, passing through familiar streets that were usually bustling with life at this time of day. It felt quiet, unusually quiet. 

As you're about to place your headphones on, hoping to drown out the sound of pouring rain around you, a loud THUD coming from behind a coffee shop quickly grabbed your attention. Normally, you wouldn't give it a second thought. It could just be the usual raccoon rummaging through the dumpster, but something didn't feel quite right. Why did you feel so compelled to stop in your tracks and investigate? Perhaps it was a natural wave of curiosity or something compelling you to walk towards the source of the sound. As your feet dragged you towards the narrow alleyway, you felt something stronger than any rummaging dumpster critter could possibly make you feel, almost as if you were being pulled by a string of fate to peek behind the rundown bricks of the shop.

What you didn't expect to see, however, was a man with large wings rubbing his head in pain sitting on top of piled garbage bags in a dumpster.

You froze in your tracks at the sight as your mind raced. What the fuck was going on? Was your brain playing tricks on you again? Was this a lucid dream of sorts? Who is this guy?

The man’s eyes met yours, suddenly snapping out from his pained and confused state as his eyes widened as his face turned into a state of shock.

“Uhhh, Y/N, can you see me?” He said hesitantly.

Who is this guy? You thought. How does he know my name? And most importantly, how big are those fucking wings? Are they real?

“Who are you? How do you even know my name?!” You shouted, taking steps back out of fear.

“Wait...you CAN see me? Is this real?” The mysterious man questioned as he took notice of his large wings wrapped around him, now covered in dirt and torn white cloth from his attire. 

Admittedly, he was extremely beautiful. Warm brown eyes, long golden hair, and sun-kissed skin lathered in a constellation of frekels. Not to mention, the once delicate white fabric wrapped around his muscular arms.

“That doesn't answer my question, who are you and what's with the giant wings?” You retorted.

He paused for a moment as if contemplating his next thought.

“Felix...yeah, I'm Felix. I'm your guardian angel, Y/N.”

“My...what?” You questioned.

He hopped down from the garbage bags he sat on and approached you slowly. Every neuron in your mind was screaming at you to run away, to call for help, but your feet kept you planted as he crept forward, his hand gently cupping your face.

“I’m from the Kingdom of Heaven, I've been with you since the moment you were born, and God... you are so beautiful.” He spoke softly as he wrapped his arms and wings around you and pulled you into a tight hug.

Your mind still couldn't wrap around the fact that a gorgeous man in a dumpster with comically large wings was hugging you like his life depended on it. You felt your nostrils flare up as a stray feather from his wing fell on top of your nose, as your face twitched.

“AH-CHOO!” You sneezed. Okay, maybe the wings were real.

He quickly pulled back from you after the sneeze. “Oh, sorry about these, let me just-” he said as he quickly retracted his wings, almost making them vanish into thin air.

“So.” You said. “If you're really my guardian angel, and you're really from heaven, then why are you here?

“It's...a long story. I made a bit of a mistake, but hey- at least I'm here with you now!” He beamed.

“So then you've seen me this whole time? Everything I've gone through, and everything I've ever done?” You questioned, as you felt your cheeks flare with anger. How could he be real, and how could he let you suffer from rejection your whole life?

“Well, not everything you've ever done, most just the major ones-”

You cut him off quickly with a slap to the face.

“How could you ever let me go through hell and back?! You know all I ever wanted was to be loved, and yet you let me suffer?” You screamed, memories of the past flooding into your head.

Felix hunched over slightly, hand cupping his cheek from the sting you gave him. He crawled away slowly, like a rejected puppy, before he spoke.

“I really...tried my best Y/N. I know you've suffered so much, and it's my fault, really. I was still a young angel in heaven when you were born, and I got assigned to you. I felt every emotion you had and tried my best to keep you safe. It was for your own good...I promise.���

This was unbelievable to you. How was all of that for your own good? The countless lonely nights, praying to God that you'd finally get a loving family, only to be shut out and left to rot in the foster home until the cycle would repeat.

“My own good? How was any of this shit for my own good?! I suffered because of you, asshole!”

His heart shattered. You were everything to him, and yet it seemed like all his dedication to you was worthless.

“I'm done with this conversation, I need to get to work.” You declared as you began to walk back to the alleyway before a voice stopped you.

“Y/N...please. You can hate me forever, but just look at this, please?” He spoke with a whimper in his voice, holding up a soggy newspaper with 2 faces plastered on the front cover.

As much as you were frustrated, you decided to indulge him for once and take a look. The headline of the local paper issued in bold letters stated “BREAKING: FOSTER PARENTS ARRESTED FOR SERIAL CHILD NEGLECT AND ABUSE.” 

Once you actually saw the couple's faces, you felt the color in your face begin to fade. It was one of your foster couples. Your favorite one, in fact. The two seemed so sweet all those years ago, spoiling you with frequent gifts and homecooked meals that tasted amazing - it was the rejection that hurt the most because of how much it appeared like they loved you. Were they really monsters this whole time, and did Felix know about this?

Maybe you hadn't given him a fair chance.

“Did you know they were terrible people, Felix?” You asked, almost regretfully.

He nodded, head still tilted down in ache. 

“They were evil. They wanted to hurt you, I couldn't let them.”

“What about the rest of them, then? There were... some nice ones, I suppose.” You responded.

“No...none of them were ever good enough for you. They would never give you the life you deserved.”

You felt immense remove and guilt for the poor angel, covered in dirt and in pain from your harm. You'd heard so many horror stories from the Hwangs’ about cruel foster parents in and around the town, and maybe Felix was just doing his job. Maybe he did care.

“Hey, listen-uh, Felix. I'm sorry, I didn't know they were horrible. I shouldn't have slapped you.”

His head slowly rose, warm eyes locking into yours. “It's okay, Y/N. You didn't know. But man...I guess this is what pain feels like, huh?” He spoke as a smile crept back onto his face.

“Listen-forget work, okay? How about we just get a coffee or something.” You remarked.

“Oooh sounds fun! I've always wanted to try it!” He beamed.

________________________

You learned a lot that day, to say the least. Felix told you his life story–about how he died when he was only 5 from leukemia, rising up to heaven and living amongst the paradise of heaven, until he was assigned by the elder angels to become a guardian to a human, a high honor for such a young angel as him. At the very moment you took your first breath, Felix was there with you. While still young himself, he quickly matured and aged alongside you, almost as if you were going through everything with him. 

Felix began to tell you how he could sense when you were in danger with your life, and how we knew the moment your mother gave birth, you would be in harm's way with her, hence why she felt compelled to give you up to adoption.

He really did want to see you in a loving home, truly. Yet no one who welcomed you had the best intentions, he'd rather you be alone than in the house of monsters. Call it bad luck, or call it fate.

“So Felix, what grave mistake did you make to get kicked out? Did you try to murder one of my foster parents?” You asked, almost humorously as you sipped your coffee.

“Oh...just a fight with another angel, was all. Not supposed to fight in heaven, y'know?” He muttered.

He couldn't tell you the truth.

The truth that he was cast out of heaven by the elders for falling in love with you.

He's always adored everything about you as a young angel, but as the two of you grew together worlds apart, his feelings grew even more. However, his obsession didn't become out of control until recently. He loved everything about you, inside and out. He loved how you always had your nose stuffed inside a book when you weren't on the job. He loved how your sneeze was so high pitched it sounded like a mouse squeaking. He loved the way you walked, talked, and slept–to say he was a man possessed was an understatement.

Unfortunately, God was all-knowing. He could see his desire, and word quickly got around of a lust-filled angel. 

That's when this morning, after a long meeting with the elders to decide his punishment, he chose to come to earth, to be with you. It didn't matter that he would grow old and feel pain, he loved you, and he would do anything to simply bask in your presence.

You decided to keep him in your life. You let him follow you around and keep you company (as long as he promised not to have his giant wings out). At night, he'd find someplace to sleep, which during the cold and wet season broke your heart, so you let him slowly become accustomed to your shared apartment, introducing him as a friend you met at work. You gave him an allowance to buy whatever clothes/shoes he wanted (to which he quickly became addicted to shopping, spending the bare minimum on clothes while splurging on stuffed animals for the two of you.) 

You couldn't complain, truly. He was a ray of sunshine, and brought something new to your life.

________________

Time flew by quickly with your newfound friend by your side. While Yeji was a little unsure at first of him, Hyunjin quickly became inseparable to Felix, and frequently taught him how to play video games and cook for the house. Turns out, Felix had quite the knack for baking, specifically brownies, which tasted better than any dessert you'd ever had before. As quickly as Felix came into this world, he'd swiftly become the best thing that ever happened to you.

And yet, there was still something that was bugging you.

How could someone as perfect as Felix in every way ever possibly be cast out of heaven? He didn't have a mean bone in him, and surrounded everyone close to him with his graceful love and support. 

He had to have been lying to you about the fight.

One night, while he was enjoying some soup and TV, you decided to confront him. Something wasn't right.

“Felix, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what's up?” He said as he patted the empty spot on the couch, giving space for you to sit beside him.

You sat down and took his hand in yours. You were desperate to know the truth.

“Be honest with me, please. Why did you actually get cast out from heaven?”

He froze in his spot, face becoming pale.

“Felix...you know I won't judge you, I promise. Hell, even if you murdered someone, I'd still forgive you since you've done so much for me.”

He breathed a heavy sigh, there was no turning back now. He had to know if you loved him the way he loved you.

“Ok…I'll tell you but promise me that this won't ruin our relationship, okay?”

“Of course, pinky promise.” You said as your pinky interlocked with his.

“Well–I love you, Y/N. That's why I was kicked out.” He muttered, face heating up his freckles with a rosy pink.

“What do you mean? I'm sure you do love and care for me, but how is that wrong?”

“No, Y/N. I'm...in love with you. I have been for a long time. You're everything to me, I love every detail about you in ways I shouldn't.”

He paused, catching his breath and staring into your now widened eyes.

“Guardian Angels aren't supposed to fall in love with their humans…” He stated. “It's considered Lust, which is a sin. I'll probably never be let back into heaven unless I repent to God, and to you. Even though I’m head over heels for you, I'll never deserve you.”

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he let go of your pinky, standing up and turning towards the door.

“I'm sorry Y/N, I've ruined everything, but I'll leave you alone now.” He whispered as he wrapped his hand around the doorknob preparing to leave.

Only to be stopped by you, as you spun him around and smashed your lips against his.

Your soft lips and gentle cusping of his face made his heart soar back to heaven, leaving him no other choice but to pull you closer and embrace you while your kiss continued.

You pulled back first, almost reluctantly. 

“I love you too, Felix. I actually have for quite-” Your speech was cut off by his lips fervorishly smacking back into yours.

A long, drawn out groan came from his lips as your kiss melted all his worries away, ever so romantic and tender, yet wanting more.

The other angels were right, he needed more, a desire like no other was consuming him, making him hungry with lust. To him, just the chance to taste you was worth more than any eternal life he could have, because who needed Heaven when his Heaven was here in front of him? The more your tongue danced with his, the more something he'd never felt until a few months ago burned in his heart. He needed to taste you, he needed to worship the ground you walked on. He could feel his length hardening every second he spent engrossed in your presence, not claiming you as his was not an option anymore, he had to.

“Baby…” He whispered into the kiss. “...Please. I'll do anything you want, I'll make you feel so so good, j-just please let me have you.”

You parted your lips from his and looked deep into his eyes, now expanded from the love and lust consuming his system.

“Then take me Felix, I'm all yours.”

That was all it took for a switch to turn on inside of him, swiftly grabbing you and carrying you bridal style to your bedroom. He laid you down gently on your back, almost as if you were a delicate sculpture, eyeballing your figure attentively. 

“Can I?” He asks as he fiddles with the zipper of your jeans. You quickly nod and help him remove it from you, leaving only your delicate yet soaked panties exposed.

Felix wasted no time, as he quickly pressed the pad of his thumb to your clothed clit, rubbing circles at a torturously slow pace, causing you to whimper gently.

“Felix...please, I need more.” You whined.

“Oh, sorry love, I got a little carried away.” He giggled at himself, as he began to take off your panties, exposing him to your glistening and throbbing cunt.

It was more perfect than anything he could have ever dreamed of, and all he could ever want.

He looked up at you with pleading and glowing eyes like a puppy begging for its food, looking for any sign of approval to feast on you. 

“Go ahead Felix.” 

Without hesitation, his face dived into your needy pussy and began desperately licking stripes up your folds like a starved man. It was truly the sweetest nectar he had ever tasted, he needed all of it. Every last drop.

You felt almost helpless with him devouring you at this pace, a firm grip on both of your thighs as you squirm at his every touch. His tongue turns its attention to your clit, as his lips wrap around it and begin sucking it for dear life. Jolts of electricity were sent flying across your entire body as you let out a series of high pitched, whiny moans, making Felix suck even harder.

“Felix, p-please!I-Its too much!!” You cried out from overstimulation.

His lips released from your clit with a “pop” as he turned up to you. He looked disgustingly beautiful, with puffy lips dripping with your juices, and pupils dilated in an almost drunken state. 

“S-so good baby, you taste so good!” Felix said desperately. “Cum for me, please? I need it so bad, you have no idea.”

Soon enough, your fingers guide his head back down and begin tugging against his hair while you drive him deeper into your cunt. Felix can’t help but rut against the bedsheets to your moans, his eyes shutting from time to time from the friction of his cock and the sound of your voice as you cry out his name whenever his tongue hits a sweet spot. 

“Oh my god oh my god, Felix please! I'm gonna cum!” You cry out, earning a moan from Felix as he speeds up the already brutal pace, eating you out like it’s the greatest meal he’s ever had. His wings swiftly materialized to hold your thighs in place, allowing him space to bring your body closer to the edge.

One little peck to your clit was all it took to send you over the edge as you released the most guttural moan you'd ever cried out, your whole body trembling as your pussy released the sweet juices Felix desired so much. He wasted no time in licking every spot of your folds clean, drinking it all in as his whole body shook alongside yours.

Your breathing became erratic and heavy, trying to come down from what was possibly the greatest orgasms of your life- when you noticed Felix pulling himself up shakily from his position, taking notice to the newfound stain, and you see why. Right where he was lying down on your sheets, a puddle of warm liquid sat with some running down his leg, with underwear completely soaked. You couldn't help but giggle to yourself as you pulled him into a warm embrace, his breathing still heavy. 

“I love you...so fucking much Y/N.” He spoke softly, head tucked into your shoulder.

“I love you too Felix, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me.” You replied, placing a gentle kiss on his temple, rubbing his neck and scalp gently.

Even after only a few seconds, you heard a sniffle followed by a wet feeling on your neck.

“Felix, baby...what's wrong?” You whispered, tilting his chin up so his eyes could meet yours. Tears were streaming down his face, and his lip quivered violently.

“I'm the luckiest angel in the world.” He croaked out through his soft sobs. “I'm glad I get to spend the rest of my life here with you.”

As his soft wings wrapped gently around your body, you finally realized that maybe love was around you this whole time. A sweet boy who loved you and always did his best to protect you, even if you couldn't see it at the time. You were truly grateful to God for sending him to you, and you knew your story with him was far from over. No matter what, you knew he'd always be there for you, and see the best in everybody.

“You really are my sweet angel, Felix.”

[lilhiroo]

Expanded on my Oppy design cause he is (unfortunately) my favorite voice

Design notes and general (spoilery) rambles about him below

x points his face downward, maybe even hunch at times, as he's trying to appear small and non-theatening to whoever is in charge. 

x always smiling, eyes closed, to seem as relaxed and approacheable as possible.

x upper back wings never open. They shield the majority of his back, and hide scars of previous betrayal. Lower back wings however he uses as he pleases 

x tail tuft for parallels with Witch

Complete henchman vibes

I've only been in this fandom for like a month or so but I can already see the general fanon of his is like some sadistic backstabber who is methodically planning everyone's downfall which I like... Heavily disagree with. All the voices aren't inherently good or bad, all can help or harm. With Oppy though, since a lot of themes with him involve betrayal and power, it's easy to paint him in more black and white views. In reality though he is extremely in the gray. 

He operates like this- side with whoever has the most power, take any advantages presented, (it's in his name, Opportunist) even if it means betraying someone whom you never even planned to betray. You have learned it's Everyman for himself, because you have been taken advantaged of yourself. You'll build and/or burn any bridge if it means you are safe and in control. It's a fear and survival based system which has some interesting parallels with Paranoid. Paranoid however is irrational and tries to predict situations while Oppy makes decisions/predictions in the midst of what he already knows about a situation. Both can be right or wrong!

Honestly I think he's like one of those experienced but mischievous henchman who's constantly trying to advise their lord on what advantage to take. But in situations like PatD, where the seat of power is suddenly vacant, they just fuck around and experiment with the power available, being an absolute shithead cause, hey! The opportunity presented itself! He doesnt care if it's "right" or "wrong" to take it. Once your back tho it's like "oh hey boss!! I wasn't doing anything :3". Guilty wet dog /affectionate

One last interesting thing is how the chapter 2 he spawns in is mainly one that is achieved by the narrator forcing your hand (and shifty if you already did damsel route). By that point you have committed to rescuing the princess, only then for the narrator to turn on you and force his will. Whether or not you wanted to betray the princess, she perceives your own lack of will in resisting as a betrayal, and thus she turns on you as well so she can survive. Oppy will suck up to the narrator at times cause even if he betrayed you, both you and him are now aware of the power narrator holds. and Oppy knows what the witch will do because he feels and thinks the same as she does. 

Anyway autism ramble over aUagahaehah I have so many damn thoughts and feelings about Oppy. He's not evil, just a pathetic ass henchman. I need to hit him with a rolled up newspaper /silly

[charmac]

any thoughts about charlie not going to prom? cause we get dees reasoning but not his.

Based on timing I'm assuming you sent the other ask right before this re Mac going to Prom so I will just muse on the concept of the Gang in high school and the idea of their prom here, if that's okay...

Something I think a lot of the Fandom ignores (or maybe doesn't remember or understand?) is that Mac, Charlie, and Dennis went to an all-boys Catholic school.

Mac and Charlie were losers in high school and basically only friends with each other for the majority of the time (and Dooley and Pete, but yk what I mean). Girls were not only a foreign subject to them, but in a completely foreign place (another school). The mere concept of, like, having a conversation with a teenage girl when they were 15 was off the table. Then, in comes Dennis. He seems to be popular and he calls himself a God when it comes to girls and he seems to have the experience and connections (see: Dee, lol), so that's enough to convince Mac and Charlie that he is one (a God, I mean to say).

I think a high school Mac would have been dick-notised by Dennis' ladies-man facade at first and desperate to rise to his level... mostly to impress him, but also because he was a horny teenage boy who had never even been kissed. But he was a loser, just generally embarrassing and dumb, and had literally no game due to looking 12 years old, so I don't think Dennis was all too eager to actually teach him how to be with girls, more like watch me bang them and learn. In my mind, this attitude results in Mac's eventual want to sleep with Dennis' prom date and his indifference to hurting his feelings over it (of course, I think blaming Tim Murphy and creating a rift between Dennis and his friend group was also an aspect here.. but I digress).

On the other side of the coin you have Charlie. I imagine Dennis' "pull" and attitude toward girls wasn't really something that won him over, but the exposure to girls wasn't a negative. He liked the idea of girls, and the idea of being friends with them, if they were like Dee, didn't seem terrible.. and they were pretty, especially the blond one whose name always escaped Dee...

Ok, all that being established as a general idea (of mine, I suppose lol), let's talk about the idea of the Gang [not] attending prom in high school.

The concept of prom for them, a boys' catholic school in the early 90s, would have been less like a typical public school prom (where the whole graduating class attends as a party together) and more like a formal mixer between the all-girls sister school (Dee's). Girls get asked out / show off their catholic boyfriends, while the concept of "going stag" was loser-ish or sleazy.. which makes perfect sense for Mac.

In my mind, Charlie may have been interested in going to prom with a certain girl, but Dee wouldn't introduce them and, honestly, getting high in the basement seemed like a better idea than approaching her himself (alternatively, he tried and retreated to the basement to get high). Mac definitely wanted to go to prom, though, probably worked hard to convince any girl to go with him, but he was/is the worst so literally no one was interested (and Dennis wasn't too keen to help him find someone). I imagine in the end he tried to convince Charlie to go with him as friends, they could find girls once they were there, but the idea was unconvincing and their many prior homosexual allegations coupled with the fact that Charlie ultimately wasn't budging on leaving the house (at a point of Mac pulling on him and trying to drag him into coming along) won the argument.

Eventually, a high Mac crashed prom on his own, mad at Dennis for not helping him out and having learned all his tricks on women from him, managed to isolate her and hook up with her without Dennis really noticing... when it comes out later that his prom date cheated on him with his friend, Mac is quick to blame Tim Murphy.. he and Charlie weren't even there, afterall, they were sniffing glue in the basement all night...

[bloodyinkandquill]

Slingshot x Reader

fun fact when i play phighting i only ever play slingshot, specifically cozy shot ive never learned how to play any other phighters so i am only sling, oh onetime on conquer i got 308 points, everyone in the server was dumb founded that i managed to be on point that long, anyways have sling dating hcs!

- You’ll be so honest, you are dating the demonification (personification) of a cat, who can also bake

- Slingshot is an amazing partner, so many things about him contribute to that fact, he bakes as a hobby and profession meaning he always has fresh pastries for you? And he can change recipes to be allergy conscious if need be, with the baking he smells divine due to working with sugar and and fruit all day, if you ever steal any piece of clothing he owns that thing smells like Thieves Rest

- He is a huge cuddle bug, if you aren’t a very touchy person he respects that but if you allow whenever he’s not at work he is clung onto your side like a gods damn koala, he also genuinely purrs (hybrid head canons my beloved), you’re not convinced he isn’t a cat in a demon costume, but if he is then that is the cuddliest cat in the whole Inphinity

- His hair isn’t long per say but it is long enough that he puts it up while working, if you have any experience doing any form of updo he lets you braid or even just put his hair into a ponytail for him, he has a collection of hair ties that go with his uniform apron but that he switches out based on certain factors, it really depends

- When he first introduced you to Shuriken and Vinestaff he warned you and was right as the first thing they did was give you a shovel talk*, you tried to take it seriously but they bickered about it like six times and it was a little hard to focus on their words when they had a classic sibling slap fight in the middle of it, but they did approve of you and eventually got used to seeing you at their apartment, since they’re both very family oriented you were almost an honorary family member, technically your lover was also an honorary family member but he was just considered actual family by the siblings

- You better be ready to be shown Slingshot’s entire collection of fancy expensive shoes (i am not a sneaker head forgive any inaccuracies in this) you also better be ready to take better care of your own shoes, cleaning them regularly, wearing specific ones only for certain terrain, and gods forbid you crease them, he will get a random sense of dread, and when he finds out, woo boy, you’re in trouble

- Unfortunately he does have one drawback, being a baker his hours are horrendous, working late to prep pastries for the next day, and then waking up at the butt crack of dawn to also prep pasties, sure he doesn’t work everyday but seeing as between the three workers he’s the one who handles the baking when he does work it’s a lot of work

- His love language is gift giving, specially baked goods, honestly that shouldn’t be a surprise, he makes someone’s favorite pastries or just what they requested or he’ll even what he thinks they’ll like and gift it to them, you receive so many cookies and brownies, though you can’t complain really as free food is free food, especially when it’s made by your lover

- His dates are usually more low key or low energy, since his job is rather busy and has the aforementioned atrocious hours he prefers more calm dates, a lazy day being couch potatos or ordering take out and doing a puzzle, he prefers those dates to be at your place since his roommates are… loud to say the least

- Slingshot’s not as into big long kisses he prefers little kisses, short little mwahs on the lips or nose is his favorite, if you want to he can do more passionate kisses but he prefers short and sweet ones, since he isn’t as kissy he shows his affection with head bonks and rubbing your hand when he’s holding it

i’m debating being a baker, my main hobby is baking it helps me destress and i do it at least once a week but i dunno, my chronic pain may object to that, anyways hope these were good!

*the act of the family member(s) or close friend(s) of a partner giving a threat to the significant other warning to not hurt them, can be comedic or serious

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Having the statue scene be what caused Adrien to fall in love with Marinette feel like one of many spite moves from Astruc. Like once again, he saw how much people hated that scene but instead of addressing the criticisms he instead just point blank tries to force us to like the scene.

I'd go with arrogance over spite. I don't know much about the man, but the quotes I've seen and my limited knowledge of the industry are why my standard take is that he and the writing staff are genuinely trying to tell a good story. While we think they're failing at it, they don't. They think it's good. You're not going to sway me to their point of view, but I do understand how they could get into that mindset.

It's incredibly rare to get professional writers who want to punish the audience. It's incredibly common to get writers who are so far up their own ass that they think they shit gold and anyone who disagrees is just a hater who can't understand their vision. While that viewpoint isn't ideal, it's not a terrible trait for a creative. You're unlikely to succeed in a creative field if you can't get into some version of that mindset.

Speaking as a writer, if you want to succeed in a creative field, then you do genuinely need to be your own biggest fan and learn to ignore criticism. Not because you're above criticism, but because:

Issue 1: A lot of people struggle with the difference between personal taste and actual flaws, leading to some really shitty "criticism". That doesn't mean that it's bad to talk about a thing in terms of personal taste, it just means that your criticisms maybe be highly subjective opinions and not objective flaws that the creator needs to know about. It's why things like book reviews are for the audience and not the author. I know people who have found great reads based on negative reviews because those reviews talked about the book in question in an objective enough way for those people to realize it had things that they loved. That means that those were excellent reviews, they let people know if they'd like the book or not, which is what a review is meant to do! It also means that the reviews were pretty worthless to the authors because there was nothing that needed changing. It was all a matter of personal taste.

Issue 2: Taking point one a step further: more objective, "good" criticism isn't necessarily valuable to a creator. Sometimes creators are willing to include "flaws" because their creation doesn't fit their vision without those "flaws". Creators can get away with that because different audiences will care about different things and you're never going to be able to appeal to everyone. This is not the greatest example, but I think it gets my point across, so I'll use it here anyway. As someone who prefers reasonably healthy couples, if I were to read a story with an awful romance, then I'd probably hate it and have very clear, logical reasons why. But if the author is totally aware that the couple is awful and needed them to be such for the story they wanted to tell? Then my critique has no value to them. It's why good critique is so hard to get and give. Good critique is not about shaping a story into what you'd call good, it's about shaping the story the writer wants to tell into its best form. It's super hard, but also fun and a good learning experience.

Issue 3: A lot of criticism is highly situational and public feedback will only ever come after a work is done and available to the public. That makes it questionable how much value you'd get from reading feedback at that point. For an ongoing work where only a part is done, you might get something useful, but for a finished one? It's questionable if there's any point in reading negative comments. For example, I've received unsolicited critical feedback on fics that are several years old. I have no idea what the goal of those comments is. Even if I agree with them, I'm not going to rewrite the fic for them. I even asked one of them what their goal was and they couldn't tell me. They just wanted me to know and the button said "comments" not "positive comments."

Issue 4: You're never going to be perfect, so even a great work will have flaws, but it's unhealthy to dwell on them. Listening to a thousand people point out what you got wrong is not going to help anyone improve. That's why good creatives are open to feedback, but they tend to have a select group that they go to for feedback during the creative process. They then ignore most other feedback. In most cases, that is the healthy way to approach the creative process. It's why I don't agree with those who complain about someone blocking critics on twitter. Block and move on isn't just advice for the plebs. Successful creatives are allowed to prioritize their mental health, too.

Of course, there is a double edged sword in action here. Because creatives need to be their own fans and develop that ability to ignore criticism, they are always at risk of forming echo chambers that lead them to create lesser works because everyone in their core team thinks the same way they do. They may not even have a core team! It takes a lot of humility and luck to find people who give you good feedback.

The echo chamber issue is especially true when creatives are successful as it's hard to want to change when you're making money off of whatever crap you put out. Once you reach a certain level of success, there will be a whole lot less push back on your terrible ideas. If it's going to make money either way, then why worry if it's total crap? (This is a major problem in the publishing industry, btw. People with large social media followings can get a book deal with relative ease and publish almost anything they want because the publisher knows it will sell and it's not their name that's going to be looked down on.)

Generally speaking, this is what I think happened with Miraculous. The show is incredibly successful so there's no reason to listen to criticism or expand the creative team. Until the show stops making money, it doesn't matter how bad it is, so there's no reason for the writers to question if they've become blind to their own flaws. And by the time the show goes too far and stops making money? It will probably be too late to fix the problems so the show will just die. That's just how this trend works.

In summary, I would not be shocked if the writers genuinely think they're writing wonderful stories and that the critics just can't see it because we're the spiteful ones, not them. People can develop really weird standards for what is good, especially when they're immersed in the industry. For example, it's not like Disney wanted to ruin the Star Wars brand or have their 100th anniversary film - Wish - be universally panned. Studios want to make money. Writers want to tell stories people like. Spite it's rarely the answer when they fail to do those things.

The one caveat I will give to the above is if you're referring to the kind of spiteful arrogance where someone creates a thing, people criticize said thing, and so the person makes more of said thing in retaliation because that's 100% spite. But it's not the kind of spite where they're making a thing bad on purpose. It's them saying, "no, this was good and I'm gonna make more of it because you're wrong and I'm right." People do that shit all the time and, once again, it's not an inherently bad thing. Like all emotions, spite is a neutral force and a powerful motivator. It can lead to great things and terrible things. I can think of spite projects that were wildly successful and spite projects that totally flopped. (Relevant Tumblr post)

If that's the argument you're making when you say "spite", then I could totally see the statue scene choice happening because the writers heard people dunking on it and they went, "No, you're wrong, that scene was awesome! In fact, to show you how awesome, we're going to have that be when Adrien's crush started!" Spite? Yes. Ruining the show on purpose to get back at haters? No.