#also… on a slightly different note but also not that different bc i’ve had a few asks about it:

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

just a little psa to say if you’ve sent me an ask or a message i promise i will get to it very soon 🫶

i took some time off from my inbox over christmas and new year, and am only just getting caught up with things now. my chronic pain is also uh. not being kind to me at the moment, so i’m having to pace myself and take things slower than i’d like - but please know i haven’t forgotten you! i absolutely love getting to talk to people and answer the fun asks that get left in my inbox, it’s truly one of the highlights of being in this fandom 🥰

[lnfours]

close to you | l.n

summary: chemical override, ultraviolet, you could be mine tonight ; or having a crush is mind boggling, soul crushing and confusing, but also so exciting at the same time.

warnings: inspired by close to you by gracie abrams, friends to lovers (bc it’s my brand), pining, all the feels, reader is childhood best friends with pietra, fluff, and some language here and there

jordans notes: hi everyone! long time no see (😅) i’m slowly getting back into writing, school has been kicking my ass. i don’t think this is my best work, but i really wanted to get something out for you guys since ive been gone so long! i promise there’s more to come than just this! i hope you all are well!! sending you all my love 🤍

masterlist | listen to the playlist

before you met him, you didn’t think about the color green too often. it was one of those colors you didn’t necessarily love or hate, it was just kind of… there.

to you, it was just one of those colors where shades of it were prettier than the actual color itself. or a color you only really liked during the fall. like how, typically, people only liked the color blue during the summer.

that was until you met him.

the boy with those big, beautiful, slightly blue but slightly green, water-colored eyes. now you love the color green. obsessed over it. thought about it every second of every day. it was crazy how a simple opinion could change in a matter of seconds, all because of those stupidly pretty eyes.

You lie awake on your back, staring at the ceiling. surely it wasn’t normal to obsess over someone this much, right? especially over someone you weren’t even sure would ever feel the same.

sure, you had crushes before, and had your fair share of falling quickly and all at once. it wasn’t an unusual feeling to you, no stranger to catching feelings rather quickly.

but this time around, everything was different. everything felt more intense, more mind-boggling and confusing and pulse rising. the feeling so foreign that sometimes you wish you had never met him so you wouldn’t have fallen so hard so sudden, but deep down you were so glad that you had.

it was the little things that made you wonder what it was like to be loved by him. the subtle glances in your direction, the gentle but lingering touches. you had thought you were going crazy, reading too much into things in the beginning. over-analyzing every little thing that made your body light up with excitement.

until pietra confirmed your suspicions.

“he’s totally into you,” she said, leaning closer to your ear as you watched him from across the room, his head tilted back, nose scrunched and eyes half shut as he laughed about something max had said, which was likely something stupid, “like, one hundred percent, down bad, into you.”

you tilted your head at the blonde, “you think so?”

she scoffed, “more like know so,”

“who told you?”

“no one has to tell me anything,” she said, “i can just tell.”

you rolled your eyes at her, “p, i’ve told you a million times, he’s not into me.”

but she was right. he was one hundred percent, undoubtedly, down. fucking. bad.

ever since the moment he met you at that stupid pub with max and his group of friends, all he wanted to do was get to know you. he didn’t want it to seem obvious when he asked max about you, but he knew no matter what he did it was going to seem obvious. just from the way he looked at you like you hung the stars in the night sky, he was no where near subtle.

he hated to admit it, but he had even done some lowkey instagram stalking through one of his private accounts. he had seen all the pictures of you and pietra, a life long friendship explained to him in front of his own eyes.

and every time his fingers would swipe through your account, all he could think about was how beautiful you were. how your eyes sparkled every time you smiled for the camera, how happy you looked when you genuinely laughed, and how he wished to be the reason behind the gorgeous sound forever.

he wasn’t trying to make it obvious tonight, not wanting to make it well known that he had his eyes on you for a while. but he had lost track at the amount of times you had caught him looking at you, and he swore he had even caught you looking at him first a handful of times.

so when everyone in the house decided that it was the end of the night and started filing through the door, he took it upon himself to make his way over to you. you were talking with pietra, a smile on your face as you giggled about something she had said. the brazilian woman’s eyes landed on him, to which she looked back at you and said something before you turned to look in his direction.

he smiled when your eyes met his, “hey, did you need a ride home?”

your heart threatened to leap out of your chest, “uhm, i was just gonna call an uber, you don’t have to-“

“no, no,” he said, shaking his head, “i insist, really. it’s not a big deal.”

how could you argue with him? those pretty green eyes, that smile, the face. you simply couldn’t. it was impossible. you couldn’t see the look pietra was giving you, but knowing her, you knew it was a look that said ‘go with him’.

and do you did, the cool, crisp autumn air in london suddenly making you wish you had brought a jacket. you had wished you planned for the nightly breeze, wishing you had opted for a long-sleeved shirt for the night instead of the spaghetti strap tank top you had chosen.

as you walked to the car that was parked down the street, he noticed you shivering. he saw the way you hugged yourself, your hair moving with the breeze. his curls danced in the wind and he knew if he was slightly cold, you were definitely freezing.

he tugged off the hoodie before passing it to you, the sound of the doors to the mclaren echoing before he turned to you.

“here,” he said, “it’s a little windy out, i know you’re probably freezing.”

your stomach did backflips as you took the soft black material from his hands, “oh, are you sure? aren’t you cold?”

he sent you a shrug, “i’ll live,”

there was no use arguing with him, so instead you sent him another smile in appreciation before tugging the sweatshirt over your head. it was already warm from hugging his body, and you couldn't help the way the smell of his cologne lingered in the soft material. you had to keep yourself from burying yourself in it, the feeling of being close to him without actually being close to him sending butterflies to your stomach.

the car ride was filled with comfortable silence, music softly playing in the background. he stole occasional looks over at your figure as you looked out the window, the neck of his hoodie pulled up to your face as you watched the street lights pass by. you looked beautiful in the dim light, he couldn’t help himself.

he thought about taking the long way to your house. a simple but effective way to be able to spend more time with you. however, the thought of you being confused and questioning his actions was enough for him to stay straight at the stop light instead of taking a right for the longer way.

he tried not to look disappointed when he reached your house, parking in front of it. he wondered if your roommates were home, if you’d tell them about the fact that he drove you home.

he turned the engine off, unclicking his seatbelt, “i’ll walk you up.”

you nodded, the both of you getting out of the car and walking through the dewy grass up to the wooden door. you fished for your keys in your purse, putting them into the lock before turning to look at him, “thanks for the ride,”

“anytime,” he smiled. he meant it. and you knew he meant it. he’d come get you at anytime of the day, wether it was early in the morning or late at night, he was always going to show up.

you stood there, eyes searching his face. he was so pretty to you, the brown curls that were slowly growing into a mullet to the sparkling eyes that you loved so much. the dimples in his cheeks that appeared whenever he smiled, the slight facial hair he had managed to grow, but your favorite part was the moles and freckles that covered his skin. the ones he had once complained about, but you loved the way they scattered his skin.

you dreamt of kissing each and every single one of them.

“hey, lando! long time no see!”

you both averted your attention, neither of you hearing the door open behind you. in the doorway stood your dark haired roommate, faith.

“hey,” he smiled softly, trying once again to not look disappointed from the way your moment was interrupted.

“we’re having drinks and watching movies if you wanted to join,” she smiled, ignoring the look you were sending her way.

“oh, uhm,” he started, not sure how to answer, “it’s getting kinda late, i dunno-“

“you can crash in y/n’s room, im sure she wouldn’t mind.”

what was that supposed to mean?

you looked over at him, “you don’t have to stay-“

“he’s been gone for weeks, he’s legally obligated,” she said, reaching from the doorway and grabbing both of your arms, “c’mon, liv is making martinis.”

you sighed heavily and he laughed softly at your protest that went unnoticed by her. your other roommate, olivia, stood in the kitchen.

“look who i found!” faith exclaimed excitedly.

“oh, hey guys! just in time,” she smiled, “it’s martini and movie friday!”

lando leaned over to you as the other two talked, “they do this every friday?”

you sighed again, nodding, “unfortunately,” you turned to your roommates, “we’re gonna head up to my room, actually,”

you led lando to the stairs, ignoring the playful teasing from the girls in the kitchen, “oooh!!”

“up to your room, huh?”

you shook your head, opening your bedroom door and letting him in before closing it, “‘m sorry for them, they’re… how do i put this?”

“a lot?” he asked, a smile playing at his lips.

“yeah, we can put it that way.”

he chuckled, sitting down on the bed as you put your things down. he looked around your bedroom, not much had changed since the last time he had been in it. the fairy lights dimly lit up the room, photos littered the walls. the desk that sat in the corner of the room kept your makeup bag and brushes, a mirror sitting in the middle.

he looked at your nightstand, a picture of you, him, max and pietra sitting on the wooden surface. it was a picture from miami, smiles on all of your faces. you stood in the middle, arm wrapped around his middle as you smiled for the camera, his trophy in the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your middle.

“i’m gonna change,” you said, “i might have a pair of your sweatpants somewhere if you wanted to change.”

he nodded, “yeah, that’d be great.”

you turned back to the dresser, opening drawers in search for the pair of sweatpants he leant you one day. the same day he picked you up from the failed date. the one that left you crying outside, swearing up and down that you’d never find love. despite it being in front of you this entire time.

finally finding the black material, you handed them to him, “i meant to give them back, but i just haven’t seen you,”

he shook his head. you could’ve kept them forever and he wouldn’t have minded one bit, “it’s alright,”

you grabbed your pajama bottoms from the foot of the bed, “be right back.”

he changed into the sweatpants while you were gone, still looking around your room. he smiled at the picture of you and your roommates, clearly taken at a party. you wore the prettiest smile he had ever seen, dressed in a black off the shoulder top. it was from the same night he realized he liked you in more than just a friendly way.

the door opening brought him back to reality, his eyes landing on your figure and how you were still wearing the black hoodie he had given you earlier. it brought a small smile to his face.

you noticed his eyes on you, looking down at the black hoodie, “i swear i’ll give it back once i wash it.”

he laughed softly, shaking his head, “it’s okay. it looks better on you anyways.”

you smiled, fighting the heat that was rising your cheeks but it was no use. he joined you on the bed, watching as you flipped through different things on netflix.

“you don’t have to stay, y’know,” you said, looking over at him, “if you have better things to do..”

“i don’t,” he said, turning his head to look your way, “in all honesty, there’s no where else i’d rather be.”

you sucked in a breath, your eyes dancing across his face once again. it was hard for you not to stare, not when he looked so pretty like this. back pressed against your headboard, hair slightly messy, and he looked so cozy. it made you want to wrap yourself around him, lay your head on his chest.

he did the same, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize every single feature, every single imperfection that he thought was still perfect. the same ones you’d argue about, but he still always found adorable.

his voice broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two of you, “do you ever have something to say but can’t find the words to say it?”

your furrowed your eyebrows, “like?”

he licked his lips, his attention now fixed on his hands as he fiddled with the ring on his middle finger. you never thought he’d be the type to get shy, almost embarrassed as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

“like, i dunno,” he mumbled, “i just.. i don’t know how to put it, but ever since the moment we met, i’ve found myself just.. thinking about you. thinking about what it’d be like to cross this weird, thin, little line we’ve drawn. if we both just said ‘fuck it’ and dove head first into whatever uncharted territory we’re tiptoeing around.”

his eyes met yours again as he let out a nervous breath. you hadn’t realized you had been holding yours, shock clearly written on your face which made him shake his head.

“never mind, it’s dumb-“

“lando,”

“- i knew i shouldn’t have listened to what max was going on about-“

you rolled your eyes as he kept blabbering away, talking nonsense. your body moving before your brain could comprehend what you were about to do, only catching up when your hands met his jaw and you were suddenly catching yourself a mere few inches from his face.

it was too late now, no going back.

you pulled his face closer to yours, his blabbering coming to a halt when you pressed your lips to his. his brain short circuited, you pulling away before he had the chance to kiss you back.

“‘m sorry,” you immediately apologized, “i don’t know why i did-“

it was his turn to cut you off now, grabbing your chin and pulling you back to his lips. his thumb traced along your jaw, his pointer finger sitting underneath your chin.

you kissed him back after a second of surprise, letting his free hand reach down to grab your hip, pulling you on top of his lap. your hands threaded through his curls, nails scratching his scalp.

when you both finally pulled away, all you could do was smile. giggles and chuckles echoing through the room as you both sat breathless, his nose bumping yours as he tucked a piece of stray hair away from your face.

“so we’re in agreement then, huh?” he asked.

“isn’t that obvious?” you smiled and he shook his head, letting out another boyish laugh.

“how long have you.. y’know, had feelings for me, i guess?”

“since the minute i saw you,” he confessed, “you were the most beautiful girl in the room, a smile that would make everyone stop and stare. it’s always been you, i’ve just been too scared to tell you.”

you smiled again, heart fluttering in your chest. all the dreams and wishes you spent with him on your mind, it was all finally paying off, “it’s always been you for me, too. i thought i had been way too obvious, but clearly i wasn’t obvious enough.”

“we were both too oblivious,” he said, moving more hair from your face, “but it’s okay, we’re here now.”

you were convinced your smile was never going to be wiped off your face, “kiss me again,”

“with pleasure,” he mumbled, lips finding yours once more as you melted into him.

[fxrmuladaydreams]

the boss’s daughter (gr63)

george russell x wolff!reader

summary: you become attached to a certain british driver, but he panics when he thinks about the repercussions of your relationship

notes: i’ve only ever written george one other time and it didn’t get all that much love, but that could’ve been bc the tags weren’t working so we’ll see how this goes. i hate having to do math with ages when it comes to fics so we’re all going to pretend that toto and susie are older than they are so they can have a daughter who is age appropriate for george 👍

Your father had tried his hardest, for years, to get you interested in racing. Your parents were Susie and Toto Wolff for god’s sake, it didn’t make any sense to him why you were so disinterested in cars.

Susie tried to convince him it was okay. “So she’s not going to be a Formula One driver, she’ll find something else. Something she enjoys.”

Little did they know that something was going to end up a someone.

Some might’ve called it lazy, your gift to your father on father’s day being the promise you’d attend a race weekend with him. But you would call it financially responsible.

You mother made you keep your promise, even after gifting him something he’d actually use.

“It’ll make him so happy.” She cooed at you.

And happy he was, taking you around the paddock from garage to garage, introducing you to the other team principals, even a few of the drivers. You ended your tour back at the Mercedes building, you father’s arm over your shoulder as he guided you through the crowds.

He tugs you along with him as he talks to the engineers. You’re sure it’s important, but to you it just sounds like nonsense droning on.

Your eyes wander around the garage, stopping on the two drivers standing in the corner.

You’d met Lewis before, you father adored the man. He was invited to various family gatherings and parties. He was sweet, his dog Roscoe even sweeter.

You hadn’t met George yet though. Sure, you’d seen him on the team instagram, accidentally turning himself into a meme practically every weekend.

You watch as George talks animatedly with Lewis, his hair slightly falling into his face. Lewis eventually gives George a pat on his arm, then walks away, leaving the younger driver alone.

“You haven’t taken me to meet George yet.” You tell your father once he’s finished with the engineers, softly tugging at his arm.

He pulls you over to the young British driver, who seems to stand up straighter in the presence of your father.

“George, this is my daughter, Y/n.” He introduces you.

When George’s eyes meet yours, you can’t help but drown in them. The soft green practically glitters in the sun.

“Nice to meet you.” He says, holding his hand out to you.

You take his hand in yours and shake it. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Toto looks between the two of you and very quickly notices the glint in your eyes. He also notices the way George’s lips tilt upwards in a soft smile.

“Alright, c’mon, let’s leave George to get ready.” He says, attempting to pull you away from George.

“But I want to see the car.” You keep yourself planted in front of George.

“You can go see Lewis’ car. I’m sure George wants some time alone before the race.”

“I can show her. I’m not busy.” George says, shrinking slightly when Toto’s eyes meet his.

“Alright.” Toto says gruffly, making sure to follow right behind you as George leads you to his side of the garage.

George almost looks nervous as he shows you his car, pointing out different things, then showing you everything on the steering wheel. You step closer to him, your shoulder brushing against his as he points at the different buttons.

Toto lets out a breath when it’s time for George to actually get ready for the race and get in the car. He pulls you back over to where he sits with the engineers and sits you down next to him.

The race is long, but at least if you watch the screens you’ll actually be able to see the cars driving as opposed to their zooming by on the actual track.

George only makes it barely outside the podium, scoring P4 after the race. You watch as he pulls his helmet and balaclava off in frustration. His golden hair sticks out in every direction. A light sheen of sweat coats his face, and you can see the light pink imprints on his cheeks from the balaclava.

You’re able to escape your father for a moment after the race to find George talking to some of the Mercedes workers. He’s got his race suit tied around his waist and a water bottle in his hands.

“Hi George.” You say when there’s a break in their conversation.

“Hi Y/n.” He says, giving you a small smile. “I hope you enjoyed your first race.”

You shrug. “It was alright. I much preferred the company before and after the race.” You tell him, letting your hand trail up and down his bicep.

He flushes under your gaze, stuttering out a quick “thank you” before he’s pulled away.

He doesn’t see you again that day, hoping that you’ll decide to attend another race sometime in the future.

You do, hoping to see the British driver again, maybe this time without your father watching over you like a hawk.

You attempt to seem more casual in the garage this week, only letting your eyes wander occasionally in search of George. He’s not hard to find, his height making him easy to see.

You catch his eye as he gets ready for the race. He gives you a soft smile, to which you reciprocate and give him a wink. His face flushes as he quickly tugs the balaclava over his head.

He doesn’t get a podium, but stays pretty high in the points. He’s slick with sweat when he gets out of his car, his hair is flattened to his head, and sticks out when he runs his hands through it.

He lets out a breath when he gets back to his driver’s room, closing the door behind him, but feels it get caught in his throat again when he sees you on his couch.

“Hey George. Good race.” You tell him.

“Th-thank you.” He stutters out. “Who let you in here?” He doesn’t sound put off or offended in his question, he’s genuinely curious as to how you found your way to his room.

“My dad is the team principal. I have access to pretty much wherever I want.” You stand up and slowly walk over to him. “Look at your hair.” You say as you softly run your fingers through the golden strands, attempting to straighten them out.

George huffs out a small laugh, not sure what to do. You’re very close to him now, practically pressed up against him. He can see the sparkles in your eyes, and can smell your sweet shampoo.

You catch his eyes wandering around, seemingly looking anywhere but at you. You use your fingers yo tilt his chin down so that he has to look at you. You smirk up at him.

“Do I make you nervous George?” You ask softly.

His cheeks flush. “No, no, I’m fine.” He gives you an unconvincing smile.

“You are actually.” You tell him as you lean towards him. You give him plenty of time to back away before pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth.

The kiss is brief, teasing. George can’t quite process it’s happening before you pull away.

You give him a soft pat on his chest, the black fireproofs smooth under your hand. “See you later George.” You wink, then leave him in his driver’s room.

George can’t seem to look his boss in the eye after your encounter in his room, especially not when you seem to find him at every race, and pull him into secluded rooms or hallways with your lips attached to his.

He’s in dangerous territory, he knows that. But he can’t stop. Not when your tongue is practically down his throat, and not when he holds you in his arms in his hotel room at night. He’s grown attached to you, addicted one might even say.

He doesn’t know what this is, neither of you have put a label on it yet, but the time you’re spending together sure feels an awful lot like the time a couple would spend together.

He was equally relieved and terrified when you told him that you wanted to make your relationship public. It was in his hotel room, you were wrapped up in his arms and a blanket, playing with his hands when you told him. He was glad to hear that you were in fact dating, that his heart could stop clenching every time he was with you, wondering if it was going to be the last.

He however knew that he was not mentally or physically prepared to find out what was going to happen when Toto found out. Was he going to lose his job? His life? Both were reasonable expectations in his head.

You’d been around George long enough now to sense his unease. You sit up, slightly pulling yourself away from him. “Unless… you don’t want to…”

He can’t speak, he can’t find the right words to say, he’s seemingly paralyzed.

“Okay. I get it.” You say, getting up from his bed. “You can’t date the boss’s daughter. Obviously. It was stupid to think this could work.”

He scrambles up from the bed when he finally processes your words. His sweatpants get caught in the blanket, tugging them lower down his hips. “Y/n, wait-”

You grab your small bag you brought to his room and walk to the door. “It’s okay George. Really, I understand.” You sigh. “I had fun though.” You give him a small smile before leaving.

He gives you space for the rest of the night, hoping that he’ll be able to find you at the track the next day to talk things through. He’s surprised when he doesn’t see you anywhere. He attempts to casually ask Toto where you had gone.

Toto doesn’t think twice before answering. “She wasn’t feeling well. She took a plane back home this morning.”

He waits for you to appear again, race after race after race, hoping that you’ll come back and talk to him. He tries calling, texting, even messaging you via instagram, all of which go ignored.

He feels like he’s lost a part of himself. And he’s determined to get that back.

Toto is surprised to find George at the door to his home over the break. The poor British driver wrapped up in a coat, shivering, clutching an almost frozen looking bouquet in his hands.

“George? What are you doing?” He asks.

George takes a deep breath. “I’m here to see Y/n. We were together during the season, but I made a mistake, and now I’m here to apologize and ask her if she’ll have me. Again.”

Toto looks even more confused. “You were dating my daughter?”

George gulps. “Yes. I was. And it was amazing, and I really care about her. And I would like to keep… dating your daughter…” he trails off.

“Leave.” Toto attempts to shut the door.

“Dad?” George sees you appear behind your father. “George, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to apologize. I shouldn’t have let you leave, and I should’ve been able to make our relationship public. I’m here to ask you for another chance.”

You brush your father out of the way, and grab onto George’s free hand, pulling him inside and closing the door behind him. His hand is freezing, and you feel just how cold his cheeks are when you softly cup his face. You don’t know if the pink blush on his face is from you or the cold.

“No. This is not happening. Absolutely not.” Toto says.

“Dad, I’m dating George. Whether you like it or not.” You turn to face him. “George is a good guy. You know that, you see him practically every weekend. And I’m going to be very upset if you kill and/or fire my boyfriend.”

Toto looks back and forth between the two of you. George with his wide eyes and flushed cheeks, and you with a pout on your lips and your eyebrows raised, as if challenging him to do something.

“Fine. You can date my daughter. But no sneaking away at races.” Then he looks directly at you. “No going into his driver’s room.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine, I won’t go into George’s driver’s room anymore.”

“Anymore?!”

You giggle as George tries to hide himself behind you.

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

ANGST SHADOWXREADER IDE BC I CRAVE FOR ANGST LIKE A B★TCH

Hey I was wondering if you could do a shadow the hedgehog x reader fanfic where Reader gets corrupted by black doom (not possessed)

(Side note: I got this idea for the fact we know shadow HATES black doom and the black arms and was really shown in sxsg)

Reader acts more cold,apathy,untruthful and cruel

their fur now with a notice able fade of black,dark red and red, Their pupils now the same as black doom, they wear the same golden chains with a set of gold-spiked medallions possessing a gem, and a double black cord necklace with red, blue, yellow, and purple ornaments on one and golden and silver pendants on the other that resemble the Black Arms' insignia,their fingers? More like demonic claws, Voice? Cold and uninterested., rest of their outfit? Robe like Just like black doom’s and shows of uneasy aura and power

“Where it Hurts Most”

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Corrupted Mobian Reader

Requested: Yes (by an anon).

Description: Never did he think Black Doom would be back. And never did he think would he use the person that he loves most to hurt him–you.

Notes: I decided to set this during Shadow Generations so I hope you don’t mind! Hope you enjoy it regardless!

(Reader will be gender-neutral.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

“(This white space is weird,)” you thought to yourself. “(I haven’t seen anyone in here!)”

You had been transported here suddenly on your way to Sonic’s birthday party, and you hadn’t even seen any sign of Sonic.

Or Shadow, for that matter.

Or…anyone.

It was beginning to worry you.

When you next take a step, something wraps around your foot, causing you to yelp out of surprise.

It…seems to be this black-colored goop.

When you take a step back, the goop attaches itself to the ground and pulls you further.

“Nononono, I’m not dying like this!” you yell, trying to pull yourself free.

“FOOLISH FLESH,” you hear a voice say. “YOU’RE NOT GOING TO DIE. NO, IT’LL BE MUCH, MUCH WORSE.”

You let out a loud scream as you’re dragged into the goop, it surrounding your body, a burning sensation covering you until your vision goes black.

When you next awake, you feel…better.

Stronger.

Perfect.

Looking down at your body, it seems you’ve undergone some fantastic transformations.

Your fur is now black and red, with gold chains littering your body, with a gold medallion placed near your neck, like a better necklace.

Different colored ornaments are strewn about the chains, and oh my Doom, your claws.

They seem to gradient into a black on your fingers, with your claws being ever-so-slightly red.

You also appear to be wearing a robe similar to your new overlord.

Black Doom.

Before you can admire your new form any longer, a set of footsteps causes your now dark-red-tipped ears to flick.

You turn around, looking at the mobian responsible for these footsteps, only to find fear in his eyes.

Shadow’s eyes.

…

Good.

“[Name]? What the hell happened to you?!” Shadow asks.

You let out a chuckle, an echo in your voice.

“I became better, Shadow,” you tell him. “And you can become better, too. Join me on the side of the Black Arms, and we’ll never be apart again.”

Shadow lets out a growl, getting into a defensive stance.

“I don’t want to fight you, [Name],” Shadow says. “Just snap out of it.”

“Snap out of what, exactly?” you ask him. “My glorious new overlord’s control?”

“Let them go, Black Doom! Right this instant!” Shadow demands.

“I’M AFRAID I WON’T BE DOING THAT, SHADOW,” you and Black Doom say at the same time. “THEY’VE BECOME BETTER, STRONGER, DON’T YOU SEE? YOU CAN BECOME JUST. LIKE. THEM.”

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again…I’d NEVER join you!” Shadow states.

“THEN HAVE FUN GETTING YOUR PRECIOUS [NAME] BACK,” Black Doom spats. “YOU MAY NOT BE ABLE TO BREAK THEM OUT OF THEIR CORRUPTION.”

“Go on then, Shadow,” you start with a mocking voice. “Attack me.”

“I’m sorry for this, [Name],” Shadow mutters to himself. “But I’ll get you back. I promise.”

[pkochetkov]

idk if ur still taking requests but if u are matthew knies with either 12 or 22 please :)

[smut] in the club

pairing: matthew knies x fem!reader

summary: matthew doesn’t like the club, but he likes you

authors note: reader is on birth control for the sake of bc i said so. not proofread at all, or edited so yk.

warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol, p in v, unprotected sex, use of “good girl”, cussing, reader calls matthew handsome idk, lmk if i missed any

matthew never really liked going out. sure, he’d go to the club to celebrate wins with the team,

or to celebrate friends birthdays, but he didn’t like the constant noise or the slew of girls that came up to him looking for a quick fuck just because of his name and status.

but tonight was different. he was once again out celebrating another win with the team, rejecting girls and trying to make sure mitch didn’t make a fool of himself. he was convinced this night was another bust where he’d be stuck taking care of those who lost themselves in the endless drinks, but then he saw you.

you’d just walked in, hand in hand with a few friends, laughing at some lame joke. dressed in a red dress that hugged your figure perfectly. gold and silver jewelry has never looked better together, he was absolutely convinced. your black heels made your legs look absolutely delicious, the muscles in your thighs accentuated with every step you took.

his staring didn’t go unnoticed.

“you’re being eye-fucked” your friend leaned over and whispered to you. your eyes scanned the room before locking on a tall, broad man. striking green eyes catching yours, neither of you making any move to break eye contact.

he was dressed in a pair of jeans and a white shirt that gripped his biceps in a way that had your thighs squeezing together. he was yummy.

“dude, go get her,” matthew was snapped out of his daze by auston slapping a rough and on his shoulder. he looked at the drink in his hand, mitch clinging to the couch, and back at auston who shook his head, “i’ve got him. you go.”

matthew nodded, “i’ll see you guys later.” auston smirked, “no you won’t.”

matthew downed the rest of his beer and began making his way to the empty seat next to you. you made it a point not to notice, or point out that you had, him.

the bartender walked over and matthew held his bottle up signaling for another, before also nodding over to your close to empty drink. “another for the pretty girl also.” you smiled.

“pretty girl, huh?” you’d stopped swirling the remnants of your martini in the glass and turned to face the large man next to you. his green eyes were captivating, but also slightly scary. they felt like they were staring into your very being.

“just being honest.” matthew shrugged at the words and thanked the bartender for your refilled drinks. “you here with anyone?” he knew you were. your friends had left you the minute he made his way over.

“why? wanna take this conversation elsewhere?” the insinuation was unexpected to him. those lips looked like they’d never uttered a lewd word in your lifetime, but god he couldn’t resist knowing what they felt like wrapped around him.

he smirked and pulled your chair closer to him, “i was intending to talk to you more, but if you wanna skip all that,”

you smiled at his words, and downed the rest of your drink before standing up. “come on handsome, i don’t bite. unless you want me to.”

matthew swore under his breath and grabbed your hand leading you down the hallway toward the bathrooms. he shoved the door open and pushed you inside, pressing you against the door and connecting your lips in a hungry dance.

teeth clashed and matthew reached behind you to lock the door. his hands raked over your frame, pulling at the red dress that captivated him. your hands slid down to the waistband of his jeans, popping the button open and sliding one hand inside.

he was semi hard, just from the kissing. you squeezed the tip of his cock and he hissed into the kiss, pressing more into your hand. you pulled away from the kiss to drop down to your knees, taking his pants and boxers down with you.

his cock stood tall, tip tinged a bright pink accompanied by a thick vein that ran down the shaft of it, your hand barely wrapping around the girth. “fuck, you’re so big.”

matthew grabbed onto your hair as you began stroking him. you brought his cock to your lips and began tapping it against you. this whole situation was so erotic, matt was convinced he’d be thinking about it for weeks.

“come on pretty girl, suck it for me.” his voice was so much deeper, slightly raspier, and who were you to say no?

you took what you could into your mouth, hallowing your cheeks around it, and dragging your tongue against the tip on its way in. the man above you cussed and gripped your hair a little tighter. his hips bucked slightly making you gag slightly, the squeeze of your throat bring him closer to the edge.

you pulled off of him, using your saliva to coat the rest of him, allowing your hand too glide across him easier. matthew used the hand in your hair to pull you up and reconnect your lips. you moaned into the kiss and he gripped your thighs to lift you up. he walked you over the counter and turned you so you faced the mirror.

he lifted your dress up so it gathered around your hips and pulled your thong to the side. you were already soaking just from sucking him off and he loved it. matthew stuck his middle and ring finger into his mouth, coating them before bringing them down to your cunt. his eyes connected with yours in the mirror and he watched as your jaw fell open at the intrusion of his fingers.

matt curled them down seeking that spongy spot deep in your cunt, smiling when you let out a high pitched moan when he found it. his fingers fucked into you in such a way you weren’t sure you’d be able to replicate by yourself. you’d never felt so full, just from his fingers. your legs began to get weak at the thought. matthew noticed this and pulled his fingers out making you whine in protest.

“calm down,” he said and lifted your hips to line himself up with your entrance. he moved his hands so one was holding you up and the other was guiding his cock into you. he relished in the deep moan you let you and the way you squeezed around him with every inch he pushed in.

“there you go, taking me like a good girl. look at that. such a pretty pussy you got.” his words made your head spin, the look in his eyes almost making you cum on the spot. this. this was heaven. he filled you so deep you didn’t even think this was possible. he pulled out slightly before he began hammering into you.

every thrust of his hips sent you into the counter, you were sure it would leave bruises along the tops of your thigh but you couldn’t find it in you to care at the moment. not when the big hockey player behind you was the cause of it. every thrust had your vision going blurry. his tip kissed your cervix every time he pushed in, balls slapping against your clit in such a way you never thought you’d feel pleasure from.

matthew let out deep groans every now and again, a breathy fuck left his lips everytime you’d squeeze around him, and a lewd squelching sound echoed in the dim bathroom everytime he pushed back in.

“close. i- oh fuck- i’m gonna cum.” your moans picked up, and so did matthew’s thrusts. he put both hands on your hips to pull you back into his, “cum for me pretty. come on, i know you can.”

your vision went dark, your legs shook and your hands gripped the sink in front of you. matthew had never heard such an ethereal moan than yours when you came. cum began gathering at the base of his cock and his thrusts began to fall out of rhythm.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck,” matthew let out before slamming his hips into you, shooting ropes of cum deep into your cunt. his breathing was heavy and he let go of your hips causing him to slide out of you slightly.

he slowly thrusted, riding out the rest of his climax and overstimulating the both of you before fully pulling out. a mix of your cum and his leaked out of you and onto the floor. he moved your underwear back into place and helped pull your dress down.

your legs were weak and sore, but tolerable. you watched the man pull his pants and boxers up and look back at you.

“i’ve got a nice shower at my place. you know, so we can clean up.” matthew said, a sly way of inviting you back to his to “clean up”. you smiled at him and stuck a hand out, “take me home, handsome.”

[tg-ace]

(I was gonna post this last night but I ended up passing out on the floor for 16 hours so uh mb! Also if there are any grammar mistakes mb as well).

This is all in my opinion! And I probably missed a lot of things/I didn’t know what to write for them.

Teaser Trailer Theories

General notes

Personally I don’t think Benji (at least up to this scene) is hurt in a way that is life threatening to him or that he’s about to die. Because Ethan would not look this calm/composed, he does look like he might be on the verge of crying but it’s clearly not from Benji’s life being in danger at that moment.

It is clear though that something’s upsetting Benji though. (as I state later he looks to have been crying to a point where he tested up) Most likely it’s probably something to do with Ethan, or someone else close to him. Most popular opinion I’ve seen is Ethan planning on sacrificing himself or something along those lines. Whatever it is though it made Benji upset so… *murders it*.

Physical/movement notes

(Use this for these notes/use the Youtube video for better quality).

Benji looks like he was fully crying to the point of tears because I’m pretty sure there’s a tear on the tip of his nose.

Furthermore to that point I think Benji might have been leaning forward or something in the position because of where the tear is, or he was just already leaning forward enough that it got there. Not very sure about this one.

I think Ethan and Benji are both pushing and pulling against each other trying to seek each out/get closer to each other which I find to be very cute.

I wanna assume that Ethan’s hand that’s not on the back of Benji’s neck and that is out of frame is A. Holding Benji’s hands or B. Just holding into another part of Benji because that would be very sweet.

At the beginning of the clip Ethan was finishing a sentence so I’m just gonna assume that he was saying something important, upsetting, or trying to calm Benji.

Also at the beginning of the clip Benji had his eyes open looking at Ethan so I don’t really know, maybe that shows how he was fully focused on Ethan. I just noticed it and wanted to point it out.

Ethan’s hand tightens and moves up Benji’s neck when he touches his forehead to his which I find to be cute.

Benji has some injuries on his face which are also on him when they're having their Jurassic World looking moment as I like to put it, but he doesn’t have it in the plane so those two scenes happen after that and might happen near each other or before one another. (Marks are slightly different so I’m not 100% about this or it was just a consistency error).

Ethan looks really content for most of this scene but his jaw also tightens so he might be trying not to cry.

Somewhat related

Just like at the end of DR I think the voice over Benji and Ethan mean something, and I mean come on, saying “You refuse to sacrifice the one you hold close.” while showing Ethan and Benji (and Luther) has gotta mean something.

Also that moment between Ethan and Benji is one of the most actually physically intimate not sexual moment that’s happened in the entire franchise which I find to be very interesting.

Side notes

In every scene (and photo) we have of Luther so far he’s wearing the same outfit which appears to be some type of doctor or medical thing.

(Something about Luther working underground because of the backgrounds we’ve seen? I don’t remember what I was saying but I think it had something to do with this).

(Not actually sure about this one at all but let a guy dream, it’s prob just his hair being messed up/wet/fluffy). I think Ethan cut his hair some time in the movie sadly, because it looks way shorter in the end shot compared to other ones in my opinion. (*Cough cough* Maybe Benji cut it for him. *Cough cough*).

Sloane’s back which I think might have been hinted at by the photo of her in DR, bc yknow, why not.

SIMONS AND MISSION IMPOSSIBLES INSTAGRAM POSTS ABOUT THIS SCENE IN GENERAL GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK OF POTENTIAL FEAR. And that is all I will say about that.

I think this might be a similar kind of bomb to the one Benji dealt with so their might be some more fun questions for Ethan to answer this time. (Or could literally just be a bomb).

Kittridge seems to have been working with Gabriel this entire time/started working with Gabriel just to stop Ethan. (Not to sure about this one).

The end… for now…

(Aka into the next trailer comes out!)

[starlightsuffered]

My Girl

A/N - wrote this bc I’m cold and I miss the sun also I had a dream about it

Info - fingering, friends to lovers, pda, a little sex, getting caught in heavy make out, tasting pussy juice, finger sucking

I popped a cherry into my mouth and noted how Timothée looked at my lips. The air was thick, though humidity was low. My ponytail brushed my shoulder as I turned to grab another piece of fruit.

I felt a tentative hand on my bare ankle. I pretended I didn’t notice. His thumb moved slowly over my skin.

Since winter, things had been very different. Timothée and I had been friends forever, but in December he’d become single again. On new years, he’d decided that we would kiss to usher it in. At that moment, everything had changed.

His moustache was gone, and his hair was now fluffy and tousled like it used to be. He’d been home spending time with his niece for a while. He hadn’t taken a new project for a while and I wished desperately that even a little of it was for me.

We’d reconnected in a heavy way. We spent days and nights together. He seemed to always be inviting me over. We shared bottles of wine and late night confessions. The alcohol always had us falling over each other with giggles. Then we’d take a moment and stare into the others eyes. Our friendship wore thin as one of us would inevitably push a lock of their out of the others face.

That was how we had lived for months. We’d walked that edge of the precipice so many times. I wondered if we were both waiting on the other to make the final move. I wondered if he’d find me less desirable if I broke first. I wondered what was taking so damn long.

“Would you rather,” he mused, picking up the game again.

We were having a picnic in the park. I wore a new sundress that he had barely removed his eyes from the entire afternoon. He was in jeans and over sized t-shirt. The sun had finally begun to warm New York City and he’d eagerly called me, begging for a picnic lunch in the fresh air.

“Kiss someone, or hug someone?”

“It depends,” I said, tilting my head to the side.

“Oh?” He asked as his fingers drummed on my leg. I wanted to pounce on him.

“Hugs are almost always good, kisses are only good with some people,” I shrugged. I threw a blackberry in my mouth now.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“What makes someone the right person?” Timothée asked in a dangerous voice. I gulped and looked up to meet his gaze.

“Someone who is kind, sexy, matches your energy, knows you well, cares for you the correct way…” I trailed off. I felt a burning between my legs even though this was just a conversation about kissing. He always launched me into neediness so easily.

“And am I-“ he sucked in a deep breath. If he was breathing harder, I wasn’t breathing at all. He was preparing, I could tell. He was closer to that precipice than he’d ever been. He was going to jump.

“Am I the right sort of person?” He whispered.

I leaned back on my elbows. Ever so slightly, I spread my legs. His grip became tighter on my ankle. His eyes darkened and he watched me as if I were stripping instead of leaning back casually.

“Yes,” was all I breathed.

He lurched forward, a desperate hunger in his eyes. My back hit our fuzzy blanket. His mouth was glued to mine. His large hands held my face. I was hot all over as our tongues danced together. I couldn’t have cared less who would see us.

His hand moved to my thigh and went up, lifting up my dress. I gasped into his mouth.

“I love you, fuck I love you, I’ve wanted this so long,” he heaved, he was panting as he grabbed at every bit of my skin. My leg wrapped around him. I pressed myself into the feeling of him, memorising it.

“I want you, I need you,” I repeated myself over and over. He mouthed over my neck. His long fingers crawled to my pink panties.

“Shit!” He sucked in a breath when he felt my wetness.

“You’re perfect, I can’t breathe, I don’t want to,” he told me. I was keening and arching as his deft fingers plunged into me. He curled them in my wet heat.

“You’re so pretty in this dress. I can’t keep my eyes off you,” he whispered, kissing the hot skin of my clavicle.

I loved how he worshipped and praised me, as if he hadn’t been around a million celebrities. He could see me as less or not be interested at all. Yet, he touched me like one would touch a deity. I was in heaven.

“Mmmmm,” Timothée moaned as he lifted his digits to his mouth. His fingers were so slick. I watched him mesmerized by the beauty.

“Baby, you’ve got to taste yourself. Come on pretty girl, it’s ambrosia,” he coaxed. He looked love sick and hazy. He smiled dreamily as his finger were sucked by my needy mouth.

“Atta girl,” he whispered. He was kissing me again now. My bottom half was almost completely bare. The grass was on my ass and my dress was hitched up around my waist. Timothée’s hands dipped into the cups of my bra. He massaged as he kissed me and kissed me and kissed me.

“What are you two doing,” asked a harsh voice. A park ranger took in our heady gazes and the tent in Timmy’s pants, and the way I was scantily clad.

“Get up!” He snapped gruffly.

Timothée had Trouble moving from his hard on. He was pulling me along desperately. He’d left behind the blanket, the lunch, all in an effort to get to his car.

He whips open the door and pulls me on top of him in almost one movement. Out kisses are sloppy and hot. His hands are up my dress again. I could hardly catch a breath.

“Fuck me, there will be pictures everywhere,” he said, but he didn’t sound like he actually cared that much.

“Fuck that,” I giggled as I nipped at his lip.

“Fuck me,” he moaned, a request.

“Absolutely,” I agreed. I pushed my panties to the side and he pulled out his cock. I sunk down and settled into the place I was meant to be.

“My girl,” he groaned as I began to bounce and he began to thrust.

“My girl forever.”

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming @lovelyrocker

[scekrex]

I saw some of your Adam x readers and really enjoyed them! I was wondering if you could do an Adam x reader where the reader is a trans man but still likes to wear dresses, skirts, and has like either medium length or long hair, but is also insecure about the fact that they won't be seen as a real guy. Have a wonderful day/night!

Omg as a trans guy myself writing this was some sort of healing I swear, I adore you for requesting trans reader! Also I hope you like it!

What it takes to be a man

pairing: Adam x trans!male!reader

warnings: a lil angst maybe? It's mainly fluff

note: not beta read bc idc

Things were rough up here in heaven, you thought that once you had died things would get easier but they didn't. Your body was still the same, still wrong. Everything was wrong, to be honest. Your voice was still too high for a guy's voice, your chest was still… well, too big for a man's chest and your curves weren't really helpful either. Waist too small, hip bones too pronounced.

When Adam entered the room you flinched for a moment, but only for a moment because as soon as the man entered the room he took his helmet off and greeted you with a cocky smile, “How’s my babe doing?”

You sent a small smile his way, then looked down to your hands. Yeah, how were you doing? That was actually a pretty good question. Not fine, that much you knew. So you said just that, there was no reason for you to lie to Adam after all, “Y’know I thought things would be different here.”

Adam's smile dropped almost immediately, a serious expression took its place. He put down the helmet on the bedside table and sat down next to you. “Yeah? In which way?”

You inhaled loudly, you tried to find the words, tried to explain how you felt, but it was just so hard to find the correct words to express your feelings. “In a ‘my body is still not it's way,” you then chose to say. “I’ve been struggling with that back on earth and I thought that here it might be different, that I'd get here with the body I feel like I should have been born in, you know?”

Well to be completely honest, Adam didn't know, nor did he fully understand the entire concept of body dysmorphia, but he didn't need to understand it, he was trying his best to keep you happy and that was what counted in the end. “Babes, why does it matter what other people think huh? You feel comfortable in dresses and skirts and those slutty crop tops, fuck, you look so fucking hot wearing them too,” his hand came to rest on your knee. He knew that being seen as a guy by others was a big deal to you, he didn't understand why though.

“No but that's the point, I wanna feel comfortable and confident but then people come up to me and tell me ‘what a pretty lady I am’ and I'm so sick and tired of being seen as a lady when I'm really not. I'm a fucking dude just like you're a dude, why can't people just see that?” It was exhausting, really. Because even when you corrected people they would try to take your identity from you, they usually said things like ‘men don't have long hair the way you do’ or ‘you wanna be a man? Then stop dressing like a woman'.

You weren't trying to be a man, you were a man.

“I see it,” Adam said and shot you a small smirk. Your head snapped sideways to look him in the eyes, “You do?” Adam made a hand gesture that was meant to say ‘Isn’t it obvious?’. “When I look at you I see my handsome boyfriend, you don't give two shits, you dress in what you feel comfortable, you wear your hair in ways that make you feel good and hands down, that's the hottest thing you can do, doesn't make you any less of a man.” His wing wrapped around your back softly, the tips of his feathers wrapped over your shoulder to gently pet your cheek. “You’re the most interesting angel I ever got to meet, babes. Don't let these assholes bring you down just because they can't see the most obvious thing.”

You tilted your head slightly, curiously looking up at your boyfriend, “N that is?” “That you're a motherfucking dude, babes,” he spoke like it was the most obvious thing, and to him personally it was. You've always been you, always been a man, nothing could ever change that. His hand slid smoothly through your hair, pushing the long silky strands out of your face. “And if some fuckface ever tries to claim anything else, you're gonna head straight up to me and I'll handle it, got it?” You knew he meant it and it warmed your heart that he cared so much. You leaned against his arm, your head was resting against his shoulder as you whispered a quiet “Thank you”.

[fadingdaggerr]

heaven’s gate

pairing: larissa weems x gn!reader (r is only ever referred to as queer, no other specifics)

summary: locking eyes with a woman at a bar and finding purpose in her kiss

warnings (in order): alcohol consumption, making out, smut (thigh riding, fingering, eating out, heavy praise), r is a simp the whole time, so much side character use bc i like making up lil stories about the little people in my head, pretty dialogue heavy in some parts

note: sorry i’ve been gone, i’ve had severe writers block and my birthday was this past weekend so i was out and about. never written smut before so this is different from my usual comfort zone, let me know what y’all think <3 i also tried to keep r neutral as possible to accommodate all presentations and identities :)

the wind whipped against your face as you steadily continued along the sidewalk, numbing your cheeks. the honking of cars and chatter around becoming white noise as you were dead set on your destination, only need at this point to get out of the wind tunnels. an arm looked through yours suddenly, breaking your pace slightly.

“babe, you have got to slow down. these boots are not meant for walking, they’re for attracting,” parker says as he clings to you for warmth, even with his long emerald green jacket on.

you laugh a little, “i’m not freezing my ass off because you chose heeled shoes when you knew damn well we’re in the old district. that means cobblestone streets. i thought you had a college degree?” he shoves you with a laugh, there’s no point in arguing with the truth. he complains the rest of the way, and you just ignore him until he finally stops when the club comes into view.

the vibration of the music could be felt in the floors, on the chairs, at the bar. everything hummed together, music and voices. you took it all in until a rum and coke slid right next to your hand. you nod at the bartender in thanks, turning to take in the club, smiling at the group taking a photo in from of the lavender’s orbit sign with giant smiles and little pride flags in hand. your eyes continue to scan as you bring your glass to your mouth, then double back when a set of eyes connects with yours.

resting against a tall stool, martini in hand, was the most enchanting being you’d ever seen. lips curved into a smirk at your staring, but it didn’t stop you. you allow your eyes to travel down, taking in her short, white dress and her long legs, watching as blue and purple lights sway and highlight her body. your eyes snap back go to hers, returning her smirk before continuing your look around.

you find parker by the pool tables, cheering on the group playing there, not so subtle in his hands caressing one of their arms. you shake your head with a laugh, he was on a mission, just as he had said before you’d left. parker sees you and waves your over excitedly.

“okay, okay so will you play pool with me? and like, help me get them to like me?” he says pointing at the person in bleach-dyed overalls, only a red binder underneath.

“one game,” you say holding up one finger, “i’m not playing matchmaker all night, there’s someone i think i need to talk to by the bar.”

he jumps a little, hugging you, “okay perfect, one game is all i need. then i can help you get some.”

you grab a cue stick, applying chalk as you speak, “i don’t need help. and i think you’ll be a little to preoccupied to help me anyways.”

the object of parker’s affection, max, and their friend arlo, let you break the set. a singular solid ball fell in, putting you into a head start. as the game continued, you told parker what to do so that you could both win and help him with max, which didn’t seem to be an issue. the eight ball was your last in, as you aimed, you could feel eyes on you, burning into your back. turning, you see the woman from earlier watching, new drink, same look in her eyes. you nod towards her then shoot, the eight ball drops into the cup.

parker grabs you, jumping as he holds you, mostly just shaking you like a rag doll. max and arlo shake your hand. deepening their voices to sound all gruff and puffing their chests as they both say “good game, good game,” before breaking and laughing at themselves.

the three step away to get more drinks, and you turn back to where the woman in white had been, but instead she was walking back from the bar, two drinks in hand. she approaches you, setting one drink in your hand. a rum and coke.

“larissa,” she says, “that was quite the game.”

you accept the drink with a smile, introducing yourself, “the game? i don’t recall your eyes being on the cues.”

“perhaps not, but how could they look at anything else?” her words send a shiver down your spine, “let’s go sit, darling.”

you begin moving to find a place to sit down and talk with her. her hand rests on your hip as you walk to keep close to you and not get separated. her touch was electrifying, even through your shirt. you let her sit first, then place yourself next to her, close enough that your legs touch and her perfume fills your nose.

“what do you do for work, larissa?” you ask, eyes looking into hers. you couldn’t see how blue they were before, cursing the dim lighting around you for not gifting you this privilege earlier.

“i’m an english teacher at nevermore, it’s a private academy up in jericho,” she says proudly.

you nod excitedly, “i’ve heard of it! my friend jaya went there in high school since she lived closer to there than byron’s home in rochester.”

her eyes widen, voice nervous, “you know about outcasts?”

you grab her hand, “i am an outcast, i went to byron’s. maybe you know her, jaya o’leary? gorgon, perfect eyebrows despite not getting them done ever in her life?”

larissa laughs, “yes! we had a couple classes together during third year, that’s quite the coincidence.”

“all roads lead back,” you say, mostly to yourself. larissa’s lips form into a soft smile, the hand that’s still in yours tightening.

“what do you do?” she asks.

“i’m a counselor. i run support groups and one-on-ones for anyone in need, we have varying specialists and everything,” you say before you take a sip of your drink.

larissa leans closer, “what do you specialize in?” there’s genuine interest in her voice, and it makes you feel warm and fuzzy.

“queer adolescence and trauma. there’s a lot of kids that need a place to just exist as they are, and home is a confinement cell,” you say looking down into your lap, then back to larissa. she smiles at you, thumb running across yours.

“that’s an admirable profession, you should be incredibly proud of yourself,” her words are so heartfelt that you feel your chest bloom.

“thank you. and for the record, teaching is equally important. it’s a multi-faceted role, you should be proud too,” your eyes are locked with hers, trying to convey that your words are true.

just as she’s about to reply, a scream of your name catches both your attentions. parker’s freckles face popping into view as you watch him bob and weave through the crowd quickly until he stands before you with a giant smile. he almost speaks, but his eyes move to larissa then back to you with a playful smile.

“first of all, nice. second, wow. third, i am going to disappear for a little bit, are you okay here? i can stay if you need me too,” his words are hopeful, but you know his promise of staying is just as true, he’d never leave you if you said no.

“i’m okay, go have your fun and text me. for the love of god, wear a condom. and for the love of your best friend, do not give me extreme details about this later or i will vomit in your shoes,” you say as you shoo him away. he grabs your face and presses a fat kisses to your cheek with an i love you, i love you, i love you, before running off to max.

you groan and wipe your cheek, where did the gloss come from? larissa giggles next to you at the interaction, hand over her mouth. “nice and wow? he’s sweet,” she laughs.

your head hangs low, “that would be parker, the bane of my existence and my assigned ward at this point.” this makes her laugh again, and you almost think you heard angels singing.

“would that be the reason you didn’t come up to me sooner?” larissa prods.

you laugh a bit, looking at her through your lashes, “unfortunately, yes. he needed me to help him win the game so that he could look good.”

her tongue goes across her teeth, “i think it worked better for you, at least in my opinion.”

it’s your turn to lean a little closer now, “well i almost lost because someone, not going to name names, was quite distracting during the final round.”

her hand leaves yours, much to your dismay, but quickly finds its way to your thigh, “oh, i’m sorry. how could i ever make it up to you, almost-loser?” her tone and fake pout nearly kill you on the spot, her touch was making the fire within you burn hotter and hotter.

your hand rises to her neck, caressing her jaw with your thumb. she was so beautiful it was making you dizzy, but you spoke regardless, “i think you’ve already made it up to me just being right here,” you feel her cheek warm under your hand, “maybe i should be thanking you, you might have been my good luck charm instead.”

her lips are only centimeters from yours as she says, “maybe you can repay me then somehow.”

—

her lips were soft, but her kiss was not. her teeth nipped at your bottom lips as she pulled away to breathe, only to pull you back in. one hand gripped her waist, the other against the brick wall behind her to hold you up. her own held you face, keeping you as close as possible. the breathy moans she let out through the kiss made your grip on her tighten, then slide down more, just over the curve of her ass. you pull her hips into you, making another noise leave her.

her lips detach detach from yours, angling her head down, she begins to nip at your neck. you could’ve sworn she was a drug, your own personal aphrodisiac. your hand slides down more, catching her thigh and bringing it to your hip, pressing your hips into hers to give some friction. a noise escapes her at this action, something that makes you need to kiss her again, truly kiss her.

you lean away, ducking your head to catch her lips once again, kissing her with less lust and more intimacy. you savor the way she shivers as your fingers draw little patterns on her thigh as you kiss her, pouring everything into it. she pulls away, panting lightly. your lips migrate to her neck, gentle kisses and nips as you both catch your breath.

through heavy breaths larissa says, “my hotel is only six blocks away.”

your head leaves her neck, pressing a quick kiss to her lips, “my apartment is four.”

your eyes stay locked together, both of you grinning like teenagers. you whip your phone out of your back pocket, opening parker’s contact.

to: park nasty going back to my place. do NOT come back unannounced i was serious about the shoe thing. be safe ily

you shove your phone back in your pocket, hand now extended to larissa. she immediately takes it, weaving her fingers with yours and wrapping the other arm around yours, holding you to her. you’re about to speak to her again when you phone chimes.

from: park nasty ily babe go get some!! and a little more!!!! lord knows i’m about to go back for thirds

larissa reads the message from beside you, laughing at the outlandish text. you groan at it before typing your own quickly

to: park nasty damn give the poor thing a little recovery time u absolute creature. i’m not gonna feel bad for u tomorrow when u complain

you chuckle and put your phone back in your pocket. you look at larissa before you both burst out laughing. she didn’t even know parker but she basically got the full extent of him within one text and watching the two of you interact while playing pool and when he came to you both.

“i see what you mean by the assigned ward thing now,” she says through a chuckle.

you guide her to your street, “he’s a menace, but he’s the best friend anyone could ask for. the descriptive details of his sex life are the price i pay for friendship.”

she just has to ask, “park nasty?”

you cackle, “he decided on day one of us meeting at byron’s that that would be his name in my phone. he thought it would stick, like everyone would call him that or something.”

she laughs with you, “and did they?”

“no!” you laugh loudly, “who’s gonna call a fourteen year old boy that?” she giggles at the story, “but i never changed it because i thought it was so stupid that it was hilarious.”

larissa clings to you and rests her head against yours as you unlock the gate in front of the door, then enter the code to get into the building. you have her step ahead of you, guiding her to your door with a gentle hand on her lower back. she’s back against you as you unlock your door and let yourselves in. you grab her purse and place it on the bench behind the door, then take her coat hanging it on the hooks, along with your own.

just as you look back at her, her lips crash into yours. you immediately kiss her back, hands flying to her hips and holding her tight. hers found their way to hold the back of your neck, blunt nails digging into your skin. you began walking her backwards to your room, staying against the door for a minute as you savor each others touch. you fumble for the knob, backing her in once the door is closed. you’re completely overtaken by her, her lips, her touch, the way she’s holding you like you’ll disappear.

larissa’s knees hit the bed, and she pulls you to her lap as she sits down. you push her back more, laying her on the bed. you lips migrate from hers to her neck, creating more marks to go with the ones from before. working your way down, you press kisses to the expanse of her chest, pale skin just begging to be painted in your affection.

larissa’s legs shift and you suddenly find yourself under her, her dress riding up and exposing more of her thighs. her lips go back to assaulting yours, her hands sliding underneath your shirt to trace the skin of your abdomen. only breaking away to gently ask, “is this okay?”

you smile at her, leaning up to kiss her cheek, “more than okay, i promise.”

her lips are back on yours, your hands are back on the creamy skin of her thighs. she was your new drug of choice, you couldn’t stop the venturing of your hands on her body as her lips and tongue pulled soft moans from you. you need more of her, as much as she’ll allow you.

you shift your hips, raising your right leg to press you thigh to her center, making her lips stutter as she moaned against your chest. her hips instinctually buck against your thigh again, and you hear her breath hitch.

“are you okay? we can stop,” you ask gently, gently stroking the skin of her thigh to assure her.

“don’t,” she rushes out, “i want this, i want you.”

there’s nothing to do except kiss her, kiss her so that it feel like a promise. your hands slide from her thighs to her hips, slowly guiding her against you. she moans into your mouth and your hands move her hips faster, her pleasure was all you could think about.

her moans grew whinier as she desperately moved against you. her forehead pressed into yours as her release grew closer and closer.

“you’re so beautiful,” you mutter, pressing your lips to hers, sitting up so she was now on your lap. the new angle and your words forced a filthy moan from her lips, “and you sound so beautiful. god, how do i deserve this?”

larissa could only kiss you harder, stealing the breath from your lungs. her hips wild against your thigh, the feeling of your hands gripping her hips, it was all too much. your lips found their way to her chest again, you nudge fabric out of the way to kiss along her breasts, gentle love bites that were soothed by your tongue.

larissa’s hips began to falter, moans becoming louder and longer. you flex your thigh more, kissing her as you move her hips faster. her hands grip at you shoulders, eyes screwed tight with pleasure. she was so close.

“open your eyes, baby. i wanna see you, can i see your beautiful eyes?” you ask as you kiss her neck and jaw, biting the skin every now and then, “please?”

larissa’s eyes flutter open, lust-drunk eyes looking into yours. you quickly reward her by pushing her further down on your thigh, making a sweet moan come from her as she looks into your eyes.

“fuck, you’re so beautiful,” a kiss to her chest, “you’re doing so well,” a kiss to her neck, “you can let go whenever you’re ready,” a kiss to her jaw, “i can’t wait to see you fall apart just for me,” a final kiss to her lips.

your words seem to be the undoing of larissa weems. she moans loudly against your lips, hips quickening then stuttering. blue eyes find yours as a long and beautiful song escapes her, thighs shaking. you’re in awe, entirely captivated by her. you can already tell that you’re not going to be able to let her go, your mind had been screaming to keep her close since you saw her. this sight was the only thing that mattered now, pleasing larissa was your life mission.

her forehead drops to yours, eyes shut, breath heavy. you stay there for a moment, unmoving, allowing her to come down peacefully. your raise your arm slowly, gently brushing hair from her face before cupping her cheek. her cheek presses into your palm, and you just have to kiss her. it’s soft and sweet, just a reminder that she’s cared for. she pulls back, eyes opening slowly. all you can do is smile at her, and she returns it gently. your lips find her cheek, pressing a few kisses to her skin.

“where the hell have you been?” she says with a breathy laugh.

you smile harder at her words, “i’ve been right here. guess you’ll have to come to the city more often.”

“or you’ll just have to come to jericho,” she says playfully.

you kiss her softly before speaking, “i have a good reason to it seems. a very beautiful reason at that.”

she pushes you back, leaning over you to press her lips against yours. the dance is slow, meaningful. her tongue grazes your lips for entry, and she’s given it without second thoughts. she kisses with full passion, telling you everything with every movement. she sucks on your bottom lip, making you groan and pull her face closer. all you want, need is her. you whine as she pulls back, and she gives you a quick kiss to appease you.

her fingers begin to lift your shirt up slowly, eyes searching for permission. you grab one of her hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. you grab her other hand and guide them both under your shirt, letting her know you’re okay. she strips you of your shirt, and kissing down your chest and belly. her hands find your belt buckle, undoing it quickly while you lift your hips help her remove it. she climbs back up, kissing a trail from waist to your lips. your hands fall to her back, finding the zipper of her dress as she lazily kissed you.

she sits up and her dress falls down, revealing a lack of bra, leaving her in ruined panties. you sit up and your lips immediately find her chest, wrapping around one nipple as your hands traced her body. your tongue swirls around her, leaving her skin with with a gentle kiss before moving to the other.

“god, you feel so good,” she lets out breathily, whimpering at your touch. after a bit she forces your head away from her chest, pushing you back down to remove your pants and her dress, evening the amount of clothing you both wore.

the view of her above you was breathtaking, you couldn’t take your eyes off of her. her hair was messy, lipstick smudged around her face, bruises and bites across her neck and chest. she was a goddess in your presence.

“what are you staring at me for?” she whispers, insecurity well hidden.

“you’re… you’re just so god damn gorgeous larissa,” you pull her down and roll so that you’re on top of her, “i can hardly believe you’re here, that you’re even real,” you kiss her softly. your lips trail down her neck, to her chest, down to her stomach, “and i get to see you like this.”

she pulls you up to her again, kissing you soundly, “it’s hard to believe you’re real yourself. never has anyone spoke to me like this, even made me feel like this.”

you frown at her words, mad at her past lovers for not appreciating her enough. “can i show you how beautiful you are?” you ask gently, nuzzling your nose against her cheek before continuing, “can i taste you?”

she groans at your words, turning her face to kiss you hard, “please.”

you kiss her again, trailing back down her body. reaching her center, you place a light kiss to her thigh, biting the plush surface then soothing it with your tongue. your fingers lightly trace up her legs to hook in her panties and pull them down. you bite your tongue, nearly moan at the sight.

you kiss along her thighs some more, slowly moving closer to where she needed you. you look up at her, “do you want me to continue?”

her hand reaches down for one of yours, and you are quick to follow, tangling your fingers together. she squeezes your hand, “yes.”

you kiss her mound gently, then move to her clit. wrapping your tongue around her, her hand grips yours. your tongue swirls her clit some more before going to taste her fully. your tongue gathers her wetness, you moan into her at the taste. the vibration alone makes larissa choke out a strangled moan. you continue to lap at her, slow, long strokes against her, savoring every second.

a long lick up back to her clit, sucking it gently, working larissa up. your hand that was wrapped around her thigh came to her entrance, slowly pressing your middle finger into her. she moans softly at the touch, squeezing your hand as you pumped your finger slowly.

“more,” she whines, “please.”

you follow command, adding your ring finger when you push back into her again while your tongue plays with her clit. a deep moan leaves her, only egging you on. quickening the pace of both your tongue and your fingers, you feel her legs wrap around you.

you pull back from he clit, pressing a kiss to it when she whimpers. “do you want more, baby?” your only response is a nod and a moan of your name.

your mouth is back on her, only to pull away again to watch her take a third finger. when your forefinger enters her as well, her moans echo off the walls. she pulls the hand she’s holding, wanting for your lips. you keep your fingers in her, letting her adjust as you climb up to kiss her. her arms wrap around your shoulders while her hips chase your fingers, moaning into your mouth. your thumb finds her clit, toying it in circles at the same pace as your fingers fuck into her faster.

you shove your face into her neck, sucking the skin and licking it and she grinds harder against you. she grows frantic in her movements as she gets closer, her walls hugging your fingers.

you move back down, replacing your thumb with your mouth. her moans become more whispers, her breathing shallow. “you can cum, baby. let me taste you,” you whisper.

your tongue and fingers move together at a fast pace, willing larissa to cum. the tight curl your fingers inside her makes her cry your name out as she climaxes. you remove one finger at a time as you slowly fuck her through her orgasm, bringing your fingers to your mouth to clean them. her eyes bore into you as she watches, you watch her in return. you keep your eyes on her as you clean her folds with her tongue, greedily taking every last drop of her.

“you taste like heaven,” you say as you kiss up her body, finding purchase in her neck. you press a kiss to her skin before asking, “you alright?”

she grazes her finger up and down your spine, “more than alright.”

you pull away from her, shuffling off the bed to stand up. she watches as you grab a t-shirt from the top of your dresser and throw it on, admiring you from the bed. “i’ll be right back,” you press a kiss to her cheek before turning to leave the room.

true to your word, you return within a minute, two bottles of water and a wet washcloth in hand. you prop the bottles on the nightstand closest to larissa and move between her legs to clean her up. she winces slightly, still sensitive, but you make it up to her with kisses on her thighs and hips. you drop the washcloth in the hamper, grabbing a shirt for her from your dresser. you lay down next to her, just watching her as she puts your shirt on and lays down facing you.

“you’re welcome to stay, if you’d like. if not, i can walk you back to your hotel,” you say quietly.

“do you want me to go?” she asks at the same volume.

you shake your head against the pillow, “not at all. i’ll even buy you breakfast in the morning, anywhere you want.”

larissa looks at the clock, 3:36 looks back at her, “i think it’s going to be lunch by the time we wake up.”

“ever heard of a diner, gorgeous? they have breakfast all day. you can get…” you look in her eyes, pupils dilating for a moment, “crepes with berries and honey, and a hot chocolate with cinnamon on top whenever you please.”

she stares at you with wide eyes and mouth agape, “how the hell did you know that?”

you laugh, realizing you’d only told her you were an outcast and not what kind, “i’m a telepath, baby.”

she blinks a couple times, “you’ve been reading my mind the whole time?”

you grab her hand, playing with her fingers, “no, i choose when i want to listen in, took a while to figure it out though. i just wanted to know your favorite breakfast, so i just looked for that.”

she pulls you into her, laying on her back to have your weight on top of her, “you are utterly delightful.”

you prop your chin on her chest, “may i ask what kind of outcast you are?”

she takes a deep breath, this was always a dreaded question, but she found herself trusting you with her secrets. she exhales slowly, “i’m a shapeshifter.”

“that’s so cool, i know a couple shifters. parker’s a shifter, but he can only shift to this big ass dog. but not like a werewolf, it’s voluntary,” you say as you glide your fingers up her arm.

“explains the amount of energy he has,” she responds with a huffed laugh.

you giggle at her comment, “i would’ve guessed you were a siren, just from looking at you.”

she smiles, “why’s that?”

“because you’re fucking outrageously gorgeous, larissa. bewitching, truly,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

you stretch across her to turn the light off before nuzzling into her. you fall asleep to her steady breathing and calm heartbeat, larissa’s arms wrapped securely around you.

—

you wake up in the morning with your face shoved in your pillow, a weight across your back. you crack an eye open, looking down to see a pale hand next to yours. memories of the night before flood your mind, lips growing into a smile. grabbing her hand, you bring it to your lips, gently kissing her fingers. lifting her arm just a tad, you turn and bury yourself in her chest, wrapping your arm around her as well. her arms wrap tighter around you, a yawn passing her lips. you kiss the skin against her neck closest to your lips, mumbling a morning, baby.

she hums in return, snuggling into you as she wakes up. you run your hands along her side, gently coaxing her into the waking world as you press soft kisses to her skin. finally moves by rolling over, trapping you below her, stealing a kiss from your lips. “good morning, lovely,” she whispers.

your peace is interrupted by your phone ringing from the nightstand. she reaches for your phone and and hands it to you, you kiss her hand in thanks. park nasty is calling appears on your screen, you mumble curses as you go to answer.

“what?” you ask.

“good morning sweetheart, it’s lovely to hear from you too,” parker says sarcastically into the phone.

“whatever, i’m putting you on speaker. behave yourself, larissa’s here,” you demand.

“oooo, is that the sexy blonde from last night?”

“yes, now behave yourself,” you repeat before pressing the speaker icon.

“hello miss larissa!” larissa says ‘hello’ back through a little laugh, “anyways, you aren’t going to fucking believe my night. please tell me you’re free for lunch, i’ll be a normal amount of gross i promise,” parker speaks quickly and excitedly into the phone.

you look at larissa as you speak, “well, we were going to go get breakfast- don’t even fucking start,” you can already hear him an snickering on the other line, “maybe you and i can do dinner or something?”

parker suppresses his giggles, “oh, please let me come to breakfast! i need to properly meet this larissa, i wanna hear all about last night’s desser-”

“parker, i will call abuela so fucking help me,” you threaten, and he knows you would.

“okay, okay! but please, let me join!” he drags out the last word, “larissa! please, tell this meanie i can come to breakfast. i’ll be good, scout’s honor.”

larissa chuckles, “yes, you should most definitely join us.”

“larissa please, he wasn’t a boy scout. abuela thought it was american propaganda,” you plead.

“too late! text me where you cuties are going, love you both. bye!” parker hangs up immediately, not allowing room for discussion.

“i’m going to need to stop by my hotel before breakfast, i have nothing to wear.”

you nod in agreement, “i’d offer you something of mine, but it doesn’t really seem to be your style.”

getting up from the bed, you extend your hand to her, “shower before we leave?”

she takes your hand, following you to your bathroom. you grab the hem of the shirt she’s wearing, lifting it up to expose her love-stained chest. she returned the favor, removing your own, as well as your own underwear. she pulls you in for a short kiss, just loving the intimacy of the moment. you both shower quickly, not wanting to leave parker waiting too long, but savor in the closeness and quiet

once you dry off, you hand her her dress from last night, then walk to your closet to pull out a light blue sweatshirt and a sweater. you place the crew neck next to her while you tread to your dresser. pulling cargo jeans out, you slide them on, and your t-shirt is quickly replaced by the thick black sweater. larissa never takes her eyes off of you, shamelessly watching you change, admiring her handiwork across your neck and chest. you catch her staring, and she’s quick to grab the sweatshirt, throwing it on as a means to hide for just a moment.

—

the drive to her hotel was nice, you spent the short journey asking random questions, some pointless and minor, some more thoughtful. favorite colors, worst fears, best birthday present, embarrassing childhood moments, you loved learning about her. you wished you could slow time, freeze and rewind the last fifteen hours over and over again.

she pulls you to her hotel room with your hands interlocked. you gladly watch her go through her outfits with a soft smile on your face, seeing how she pieces together what to wear in her mind. you want to read her, but you won’t unless she allows you to, and even then you’ll likely never ask.

“which do you think?” she holds up a white satin blouse and a white cotton one, and all you can do is blink.

“i think you look best in nothing,” she throws the satin shirt at you, “jeez, woman! i say…” you lean over her bag, spotting a pair of straight-legged black pants, “these, and keep my sweatshirt on. you look good in my clothes,” you smile. she only kissed you in response, before disrobing to get changed for the day as you text parker.

“i can’t be bothered with makeup today,” she grumbles as she laces up a pair of white boots.

you walk around to kneel down to tie the other shoe for her. “you don’t need it anyways,” you squeeze her thighs as you stand back up. “all set, gorgeous?” she nods, grabbing your hand.

—

larissa ends up applying mascara and tinted lip balm in the car while you head to the diner. parking across the street in the pharmacy lot, you jump out to open the door for her, bowing and extending your arm in jest. she smacks your arm playfully before wrapping her own around it.

sitting at table, your let you fingers dance along larissa’s thigh, both talking about random things while you wait for parker. neither of you noticed when he walked in until he slid into the and smacked his hands on the table. “good morning darling, meanie,” he nods to larissa and you respectively.

“so thirds went well i presume?” you say with a laugh.

he nods excitedly, “fourths and dessert too.”

you shake your head as the waiter puts menus down and asks what drinks you’d all like. latte, coffee, hot chocolate with cinnamon, you already knew. you stare at the menu while parker explains the beginning of the whole thing with max.

you turn to the breakfast page, pointing to the crepes for larissa. she smiles excitedly, mumbling to ask you if they have honey, “of course they do,” you say to her with a little smile.

“and so they had me like over the count- you’re not even listening. neither of you, i can’t believe this,” parker goes to smack you with his spoon when you bat him with the menu.

the waiter comes back, and takes your orders, taking a little to much care on larissa’s order. she pays him no mind, leaning on you while she orders, looking at you when you do. he seems to take the hint and quickly walks away, parker’s laugh taking place in his stead.

“doesn’t the fool know a basket of fruits when he sees one?” parker asks making larissa laugh, her hand flying to her mouth. her laugh makes you smile, eyes resting on her face.

“can i ask now?” parker asks, looking at you.

“three questions,” you say with a sigh.

“each?” he says with a sly smile.

“three total,” you say sternly making larissa chuckle again.

“where, how many times each, and are you u-hauling yet?”

your head smacks against the table before coming back up, “i hate you. my place, two and one, and watch your mouth.”

larissa’s head whips to you, eyes bulging out of her head. parker seems to put the pieces together first, because there’s a beat, then a crack of his laughter. he’s nearly struggling to breathe, then cries out when you kick him under the table. he resorts to holding back laughs, wiping tears from his eyes.

“had that much fun, huh?” he looks at larissa, his face turning red from laughter, “oh my god, larissa doesn’t get it. oh my god, please let me stay while you explain this.” you’re want to drown in your coffee cup, you have to explain this with parker across from you while in a public setting.

you duck your lips to her ear and whisper, “i told you that you tasted like heaven, didn’t i? brought me there with just the taste of you.”

you pullback and look at her face, her cheeks go fully red, eyes fluttering. parker is silent screaming at her reaction, you hold your head in your hands. you’re definitely snitching to abuela about his nosiness.

the waiter brings the food, crepes with berries and honey for larissa, eggs with toast and pan fries for you, and waffles with an absurd amount chocolate chips on top for parker. larissa immediately passes hot sauce to you, remembering your comment about loving tabasco sauce. you thank her with a smile, then glare at your friend when he does a little aaaawe.

“are you going to see max again?” larissa asks parker as he shoves half a waffle into his mouth.

he takes a sip of his coffee, “oh for sure. they’re too good not to, super sweet too. they would’ve come along but they had plans at their babcia’s place for lunch.”

you smile at him, “that’s awesome buddy.” you pick up a piece of cantaloupe from your fruit salad and pass it to him to take, he loves it while you loathe it. it just works.

he takes the melon from your fork, speaking while he chews, “what about you two? gonna keep up?”

you and larissa look at each other. you hadn’t even thought about it much, nothing past post-orgasm conversation. you want to say yes, but you don’t want to put pressure on her. she takes your hand under the table and speaks first, “definitely.”

you look at her, “yeah, vermont sounds pretty cool. i could spend some time there,” you turn to parker, “she teaches at nevermore.”

he perks up immediately, “you’re one of us?”

larissa smiles, “yes, i’m a shapeshifter. but i try to keep that a little quiet.”

parker’s grin is huge, dimples showing off, “totally get it. i’m a shifter too, people get a little freaked out by dogs that are five feet tall on all fours.”

larissa’s eyes widen as she looks at you, “you didn’t say he was five feet tall in that form.”

you shrug, “i told you he was a big ass dog.”

parker chuckles, “she was probably picturing a great dane, you moron,” he looks at larissa, “think the grim the harry potter, but lighter fur and better groomed.”

you laugh at his comparison, “sirius black was in prison for twelve years. did you want him to be all fresh and clean?”

larissa just laughs and watches in amusement as the two of you argue over the mauraders, her head on your shoulder, your arm around hers.

—

the rest of the time larissa is in the city, she’s with you. the next three days were spent touring around the city, going to shops and cafes, always ending in either your bed or her hotel’s, depending on which was closer. her departure time was steadily approaching, making you both a bit upset.

she lays her head on your chest, legs tangled with yours, sweat across both your bodies. you take the time to map her body with your fingers, needing to remember every inch of her. she was worth a six hour drive, hell she was worth a six century walk.

“what’s going on in your head?” she asks gently, “i can’t see into your mind, you know.”

you chuckle, kissing her forehead and hugging her close, “i’m just wondering how i can change my powers from telepathy to teleportation. would be so much easier.” she cuddles into you more, hugging you tight.

the next morning is slow, her alarm going off around six, even though she didn’t really need fo be up until seven. she just wanted more time with you. you spend part of your morning just holding each other, soft kisses holding promises. more kisses and hands between each others thighs in the shower, your name spelled on her clit with your tongue, her name falling from your lips as she brings you closer and closer.

you’re enjoying hot chocolate together in the lobby when her phone chimes, the nevermore car was only five minutes away. she looks at you with watery eyes, you bring your hands up to cup her face.

“it’s a six hour drive, whenever you want me there, i’ll be there. i know it’s harder for you to leave, i can organize and do meetings virtually time to time,” you kiss her cheek.

she shakes her head, “you’re job is too important, i can’t ask you to do that. that would just be selfish of me, they need you.”

“baby, i’m only working in person half the week with clients, the other half is all online. i’m a phone call away from any of them, you won’t be stealing me from anyone,” you assure her.

“you have to promise me you won’t sacrifice your job for me,” larissa demands.

you draw an x over your chest, “cross my heart. i’m not sacrificing my job, but i also don’t want to sacrifice you. i’m willing to make this work if you are.”

she kisses you hard, “i’m more than willing.”

you walk her to the car, putting her bags in for her. shooing away the driver, you open the door for her and guide her in. you lean your head into the car, “call me when you get home, okay?”

she holds the collar of your shirt to keep you close, “i’ll probably call you before i even get there.”

you smile and press a sweet kiss to her cheek, “please do, i’m gonna miss your voice.” you clear your throat, “i’ll see you soon, larissa.”

you start to back out of the car when she pulls your collar, pulling you into a long kiss, “better be soon.” she presses one last kiss to your lips before releasing your shirt, letting you back away and shut the door.

the car pulls off, and you watch until she’s gone from your sight. you make your way to your car, exhaling deeply before starting the engine and backing out of the lot.

you’re sitting on parker’s couch, legs draped across max’s lap while you both wait for parker to come back from the kitchen with snacks. community plays on the tv, one of the paintball wars playing quietly while the three of you were talking. your phone ringing breaks the silence, larissa <3 is calling.

“i gotta take this. i’ll be in parker’s room if you need me,” you say quickly to max and you scramble down the hallway.

you click the green answer button, “hey there, beautiful.”

you hear her laugh lightly, “i wanted to call you sooner, but there was horrible service. i’m almost to jericho now.”

“i’m glad you’re safe,” you say through a smile, giddy from her voice, “i’m at parker’s with max, i’m outnumbered here.”

larissa laughs again, making your heart swell, “i’m sorry, lovely. once you come to visit it’ll just be you and me, no being outnumbered or interrupted.”

“don’t threaten me with a good time,” you say, “fuck, is it embarrassing that i miss you already?”

“only if it’s embarrassing that i miss you quite a bit already as well,” she plays.

the bedroom door swings open, parker’s head popping in and pointing at the phone. the second you mouth larissa he grabs the phone and starts talking to her. you wrestle the phone out of his hand, shoving him out the door. “i’m telling abuela!” you yell down the hall, you can’t just hog your girlfriend is screamed back before bringing the phone back to your ear.

“sorry about that,” you say with a huff.

“it’s cute, the two of you fighting over me,” she jokes.

you laugh at her, “pray tell, who has won your affections?”

“park nasty,” larissa deadpans.

“oh my god, i’m hanging up,” you say as you don’t even move to do so.

“no, no, no, no, no. you win, of course you win,” she yells into the phone, “you win over everyone, i swear.”

“everyone? even sarah jessica parker?” you joke, referencing back to her confession of her childhood crush.

she laughs, “yes, even sarah jessica parker.”

banging in the door pulls you from the conversation, max and parker both beating on the door and calling fo you. gimme a second! is screamed at them.

“baby, i gotta go, homosexuals are beating down the door,” she laughs over the line, “let me know when you get to nevermore, okay?”

“i promise. and i’ll see you soon. goodbye, darling.

“bye, gorgeous. i’ll see you soon,” the line beeps as the call comes to an end.

feedback appreciated as always, love you a bushel and a peck <3

[ilysungho]

you're actually insane and i love it <333 also i hope you're doing good and having a good day/night so far !! i do believe i'm in peak feral mode rn so don't be too surprised if you see me in your inbox a few more times Very soon 😭 after what you said about sungho in your last reply i could sooo see the vision with the hot wax play and the massage setup 😭 perhaps especially after a really stressful week just to unwind because i think he's absolutely the type to do that for his special someone !! ( also we do NOT talk about what the taesan thoughts did to me 🙂‍↕️ went slightly insane just imagining it like i need to bite that man asap idk 😵‍💫 ) ANYWAYS after reading your reply i was thinking about leehan ( went back to your first reply to me fr 😭 ) and when i woke up this morning the thoughts just hit me so bad i had to notes app that shit immediately to remind myself to tell you about it bc: cold hands + leehan except he’s being a teasing little shit something in the air shifted again i’m going crazy for him fr so he warms them by simply keeping them between his s/o’s thighs, simultaneously teasing them without actually doing too much to touch them or get them off 🫠 like it could’ve been a punishment if you asked me but on the other hand,,,, he probably would have made his s/o melt right into it because he’d speak in such a soft and sweet tone asking them to warm his hands up :(((( it's deliberate for sure though because at the same time the sound of his voice would probably be so velvety and the way he words the question would make his s/o feel like giving in is the correct option 😵‍💫 also s/o trying not to squirm too much while leehan's being sinister yet sweet, praising them for being so good and staying as still as they can be i'm sICKKKK 😭 it’s just so difficult not to get riled up by the stark contrast in the feeling of his hand dangerously close and yet not close enough, squished right between their thighs </33 it doesn't help that he won't actually do anything until he has them begging for it 🙂‍↕️ - 🦋

hi sweetheart <3 i’ve been waiting for your response! i’ve been well, i hope you are too 🥹 and it’s no worries, i love reading everything you send!

sungho would be so loving and romantic :( he’s so thoughtful so what you described is just so perfect. to him, if he can help you out even a little, it makes him feel so accomplished ‘cause he loves you so much 😔💗 also taesan would love getting bitten 🤭

omg leehan’s voice is just so rich and smooth, he could make you do whatever he wanted with that combined with pleading doe eyes. once he gets permission, he’d just be so teasing. i can imagine him sitting you on his laps while his cold hands are under your thighs to help “warm them up” but he’s just caressing them with soft strokes. it’s just enough to rile you up while you’re trying hard not to squirm. and he’s so amused watching you try not to moan as he gets closer to your core, pulling away immediately every time. that would go on for a while until leehan finally touches you, the difference in temperatures shocking you as you finally let out the moan you’ve been keeping in you. he’s so satisfied, but he hides it under a smile, still teasing you until you give in and beg him to touch you properly <3

[loversj0y]

hi hi hi for the event: gold rush!!!!!

also congrats!!! 200 is a fucking insane amount and im so proud of you!! love ur content man!!!!!! :3

gold rush

event masterlist

pairing: wilbur soot x gn! reader

tw: they go to a bar, slight angst? just in the sense of unrequited pining (or perhaps... requited?) some self deprication

notes: fun fact! this song will be utilized again on my blog because it is the main song inspiration for part four of my tis the damn season au. bc of that, i had to come at this with a bit of a different angle creatively which was pretty fun ngl

word count: 1.2k

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng / @core-queen / @zooone / @lillylvjy / @ghostsacrosslndnfields / @melunnek

You had a problem. You hated Wilbur Soot. 

You knew him well, you two have been friends for a while after meeting at a mutual friend’s party. At first glance, you knew you hated him. With every fibre of your being you hated him. 

You hated him for one specific reason. You wanted him more than anything. He was gorgeous, tall and always looking like the sun chose only him to shine on. He had these soft brown locks of hair that always seemed to curl just the right way, even when he wasn’t trying. He’d come in with a beanie with the curls just peeking out, but once he’d pull the beanie off, they’d immediately settle in a beautiful pattern, waves of brown deserving of attention. 

And his eyes. You couldn’t fathom looking into him in fear that you’d be completely swept into them, lost in his gaze forever. His eyes were like pools of pure bronze, and you could feel yourself melting into them. Every time you looked into them it was like you could imagine an entire life and future with him by your side, living together and sneaking around in love.

But you also had to cope with the idea that it wasn’t real.

The worst part about it was when you knew you’d be seeing him. Your friend groups had a major overlap, so any gathering you knew you would be seeing him. Like tonight. You made yourself look a bit nicer, and you had to tell yourself it wasn’t because you’d be seeing Wilbur – even if you knew it was a lie. The bar would be dark, so there was almost no point to making sure you looked so nice. You felt the need to do it anyways. 

When you showed up, most of your friends were already there. Wilbur was too. He wore this brown button up, with the sleeves pulled up, and fuck he must know what he’s doing to you. He had to know. His arms were muscular from playing guitar, and they were an impressive sight. You had to force your eyes to move on as you approached. 

Everyone greeted you as you sat, smiling around at everyone as you lost yourself in the drone of the music and conversation. You refrained from looking over at Wilbur, too worried you’d lose yourself in your own staring. It was tough, though. He was like the sun in an otherwise dark bar, and he always seemed to catch your attention. You had to keep reminding yourself to look away, which made you pay less attention to the conversation your friends were having.

That ended up being a mistake, within minutes you realized that the majority of your friends were leaving, except for, of course, Wilbur. It was awkward, at least to you. He seemed perfectly content to sit there and look out at the people around him, just quietly observing. 

The observation fell final when it reached you, somewhat zoned out at you stared at him and pondered a future that could never be.

“You alright?” Wilbur asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry,” you flushed slightly, looking away.

He chuckled, “it’s alright. How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been good,” you spoke plainly, “You? How’s the band?”

“Good!” He perked up at the mention of the band, “We’ve been working on music and stuff, and it’s been going really well. If it weren’t so loud, I’d show you some, I have a bunch of voice memos on my phone.” He spoke so enthusiastically, and it made your heart hurt slightly. 

“Another time then,” you smiled softly, trying to be as polite despite the mixture of pining and anxiety in your chest. 

He nodded, “yeah, another time.” He went quiet, but it wasn’t for long. A girl approached from the bar, coming over and chatting him up. That was a big thing. Wilbur wasn’t just attractive to you, he was just attractive. Everyone wanted him. And although he was polite and always turned them down, for whatever reason, it still was a sight to see. He could have anyone he wanted, and the chances you could handle that thought, especially in a relationship, were not high. But it wouldn’t stop your fantasizing. 

Of his eyes, staring at you full of love instead of polite friendliness. Of running your hands through his soft hair and watching it fall back into place. Of making a place in his life, a t-shirt left behind in his room after you go home in the evening. Of walking in his room barefoot to join him in bed at night. Of going to dinner parties and having loving arguments. Of moving to a coastal town together to get away from the noise of city life.

But the fantasies would always fade. And part of you hated them. Because of the blush they left on your face and the way they would always keep you from being able to see him as just a friend. Because moments like this, a girl slowly running her hand down his arm, reminded you of just how unreal your fantasizing is, and how it could never be.

The girl left after what was clearly striking out, and Wilbur turned back towards the table, a faint blush left on his cheeks. It was such a beautiful sight, but you had to keep yourself from getting lost in the fantasies once more, lest you embarrass yourself for all of time to come. 

“Sorry,” Wilbur hummed out, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s alright, happens often?”

He shrugged, “Sometimes.”

“You never say yes.” You noted simply.

He nodded, “Yeah. Just… nothing against them, but I have my eyes sort of set on someone, so it’s not really within my best interests to entertain one night stands at best.”

You chuckled, but you felt your heart sinking slightly, “I guess that makes sense.”

He nodded again, looking away almost shyly. 

The rest of the night was a lot smoother after your friends returned, making the conversation flow easily. By the end of the night, you were exhausted emotionally and socially. You were one of the first to leave, standing outside and waiting for your taxi. The door opened behind you, but you didn’t turn to see who it was. 

Wilbur came and stood next to you, fiddling with his hands, “So, uhm,” he started, “another time?”

You looked over at him, a bit confused, “What?”

“You said another time, inside. I was wondering… when you’d like that to be.”

You faltered a bit, somewhat unsure of what to say, “Uh, I’m free whenever, I guess.”

He smiled softly, “Well, I have a band rehearsal on Tuesday. Would you… want to come?”

You thought for a moment. You should turn it down, knowing how hard it would be on you. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to do so. “Yeah. Sure. Text me the address?”

He nodded softly, face lit up, “Yeah! I will, absolutely. I’ll- uh- I’ll see you then.”

You smiled softly and nodded, “See you then.”

Your cab pulled up, and you watched as Wilbur headed back in. You got in the cab, a gentle smile on your face as you couldn’t help but have a flicker of hope in your chest for the future.

[vulpecular-draconic]

i’ve been feeling some kinship towards fae and changelings for a while, but i’ve always brushed it off as just liking the stories about them, or relating to them bc i’m autistic and autistic kids (and other disabled kids) were mistaken for changelings.

now i’m wondering if it’s more than a kinship in the non-kin sense, or if i actually *am* one.

i sometimes daydream about being fae. i even have a daydream world where i’m technically not a fae, but humans occasionally mistake me for one. my sona in that world also sometimes calls themself a changeling instead of a shapeshifter, bc i just like the word and concept of being a changeling more. it makes me happy to call myself a fae and a changeling.

i get slightly annoyed (in more of an amused way) at how a lot of fae in modern stories are written to basically just be humans with wings and magic, instead of creatures with their own non-human ways of thinking. i feel like that kinda takes the fun out of it — like why would you remove the interesting stuff? (disclaimer: i know there’s alterhuman folks who are those types of fae, and that’s totally fine and awesome ofc! this is just my personal feelings. i’d rather be perceived as a more traditional fae than some modern versions.)

on that note, when i try to daydream about being fae, i feel disappointed that my thought patterns are more human-ish than fae-ish. i find myself wishing to know what it would feel like to not be able to lie, and to make sneaky deals with humans — things like that.

there are some aspects about myself that i think are fae-ish, though: for example, i cannot say most absolute statements. i usually always have to allow for exceptions (i’m doing it right now, for goodness’ sake!). for example, i can’t say “i always stay up late” even though most people — from what i’m told — would automatically assume there are exceptions to that statement. they wouldn’t think i literally always go to sleep late every single night, they’d just assume it happens most nights. but implied exceptions aren’t satisfying to me. how would someone *know* an exception is implied? if they assume there are exceptions even when hearing absolute statements, then what if a statement truly IS an absolute statement? because then they’d assume an exception for something that had no exceptions (if such a thing even exists). and if they don’t assume there are exceptions, i don’t want to say an absolute statement and cause people to think i don’t know of the exceptions. so instead i’d say something like “i pretty much always stay up late.” the “pretty much” implies that there are some nights that i go to bed early, but there’s enough nights of me staying up late that it renders the exceptions nearly insignificant.

i have a lot of mashup shifts — aka when i have a bunch of unrelated phantom limbs at the same time. as i say in my intro post, i call these cryptid shifts, but sometimes “cryptid” just doesn’t have the right vibe. both my gender and my species can be heavily influenced by whatever my brain is hyperfixating on. when i’m hyperfixating on something like welcome to night vale, which is set in modern times in our universe (kinda), both my gender and species tend to take on a more cryptidish kind of hue since cryptids are associated with this reality. but if i’m hyperfixating on something fantasy, like tangled, my gender and species takes on a more fantasy-ish hue. (urban fantasy is kind of a toss-up.) my point: when i’m being more influenced by fantasy, instead of connecting to cryptids, i feel connected to fae and changleings. they’re kinda similar — mysterious, sometimes scary, can look like many different things — they feel like the same flavor in different colors to me, if that makes sense. and to be clear, it’s not just a fun name for mashup shifts. when i feel like a cryptid, i am a cryptid. i’ve had cryptid shifts where although it has elements of my other kintypes, i didn’t really feel like those kintypes at the moment. i was a cryptid. and although i haven’t consciously thought of my fantasy flavored shifts that way in regards to fae/changelings, it feels correct.

i’m a psychological otherkin. nearly anything is a possible kintype if my brain latches onto it hard enough. all the little moments of fae could have built up throughout my life until my brain is like “that’s YOU,” even if it wouldn’t happen to other people that way. this point isn’t exactly a reason, really just context as to how my nonhuman-ness works. (i wonder, would i be fae if one instance of learning about them didn’t happen? would i be a changeling if i didn’t read the oddmire books?)

welp, now that i’ve written all that out, here’s my reasons for having imposter syndrome

i don’t actually know much about the old legends and myths about fae/changelings. i went down a rabbit hole once of reading scottish(?) legends about them, and i’ve read over the changeling wiki a few times. i think i get the general gist of them, and i tend to want to learn more about them when the opportunity arises, so i’ll likely learn more in the future. but i don’t feel like i know enough. which, i know, you don’t have to be an expert on your kintypes to know you are one. but what if i’m missing some crucial information? or i have a big misconception about them?

now here’s a rebuttal to my imposter syndrome bc i have some good arguments:

while i’m not connected to the modern versions of fae, that doesn’t mean i’m connected to the very original versions of fae. there are some things about the original myths that don’t feel like me. i am probably somewhere in-between of “ye olde myths where your secretly changeling baby turns into an old bearded man” and “sexy brooding guy with wings.” the versions of fae/changeling that feel like me could have elements that are warped or made up in my head — which, hey, that’s kinda just what being a psychological otherkin is like sometimes. brains do weird stuff. whether or not fae and changelings were ever real, they’ve lived in minds for centuries, and the stories have changed over time. being one more small, personal change in turning wheel won’t affect much.

so,, yeah. i think i’m a fae and a changeling. maybe. or maybe i’m just autistic.

[harringrieve]

I FUCKING POSTED THIS ON MY MAIN FIRST💀💀💀

Anyway, after a bout of ennui, I grabbed this from my notes drafts bc it started glitching and I’m nervous it’ll delete smth by accident

Somewhere btwn s3/4 I THINK, in a govt hospital wing

“Whaddayou doin here, Harring-har-“

The word seems to get stuck malfunctioning somewhere between his brain and his mouth, as he blinks tiredly, still trying to figure out where the fuck he actually is.

“Oh you know”, gestures around with the folded magazine in his hand, “just uh, makin sure the scientists don’t, like, cart you off to, a- a different secret lab or somethin”

Lab? His tongue is dry and sticking to the roof of his mouth. Scientists? Billy’s brain fuzzily processes what Harrington’s insinuating, the alarm creeping up slowly.

“…..That’s a concern?”

“Oh yeah, big time. Also you’re lucky you woke up when you did, Nancy was supposed to take over next watch shift, and she’s not NEARLY as uh…..chipper as I am.”

“That so.”

“Yeah, no, I think Click-clack is givin her guff for some thing she submitted? I don’t know, she’s tetchy.”

“Have no idea what that means, also quick question-”

“Yeah”

“What the fuck is goin on?”

Harrington’s eyebrows raise as he puffs his cheeks and blows out a big breath,

“Oh jeez man, I don’t think I have enough- fuckin like, brain power to get into the whole thing right now-“

“Ugh, figures”, Billy shuts his eyes again and rests his head back, suddenly over being awake.

“Wh-hey, fuck you, I could be at home right now, instead of this creepy ass lair, but no, we gotta make sure Billy Hargrove doesn’t get vanished by the government.”

Lair? where are they? Harrington doesn’t seem that married to the petulant shit he’s saying anyway, it feels like it’s more just to have something to do. In any other situation Billy would feed the fuck into this, enjoy every button he’s pushing, but FUCK is he tired. His whole body feels like fuzzy static. Fuzzy achy static.

“She’s helping Murray set something up for you”

“What?” His face kinda hurts when his brows twist, giving up his half-assed attempt at sleep.

“Nancy,” he clarifies, “we had a whole exit strategy to get you outta here when you woke up. Get you like, back on your feet and fuck off into the sunset or whatever Max thinks you where gunna do”

Max.

“…….Why are you doin all this?” It’s barely a question really, more like a blank murmur, devoid of any inflection that could give Harrington the slightest hope of gauging Billy’s emotional state.

Steve heaves another slow measured breath, and looks slightly away from Billy, as if to try to remember why himself.

He blinks a few times, makes a vague shrugging gesture with like, the upper half of his body, then shakes his head a little, “Cause fuck these guys.”

Billy almost choked a little, deigning to open his eyes again and glance over.

“Yeah?” He asks with an audibly and visually confused smile, like he’s trying not to laugh at the ridiculous nature of Steve’s statement.

“Yeah, everything’s been their fault for like three years now. I’ve fought shit I wouldn’t put my worst enemies against. Fuckin vile.” He slumps back a bit, “You’re a dick, but like,…” he doesn’t seem to really have much of an answer past that, “Fuck em.”

[later]

“Maaan, Pick a story asshole, either I’m a slut who can’t be friends with girls, or I’m a freak loser, make up your mind”

[Robin walks in]

“What are we talking about?” She sounds like a mix of horrified, delighted, and grossly intrigued.

“He thinks we’re like,” gesturing between himself and Robin, “-secretly in love, or dating, or something”

Robins face scrunches up, “Ew.”

Steve makes a wide sweeping gesture at her, “THATS WHAT I SAID!”, and looks pointedly back at Billy, as if to say, ‘There, see?’

“Jesus, alright, you’re both undateable losers.”

“Oh, he has no problem getting dates-“ completely disregarding and breezing past Billy’s direct insult to her dateability

“The fuck, Rob-“

“Oh yeah?” He smiles, encouraging whatever sly shit she’s onto.

“I don’t know what you guys where sayin earlier about him bein a slut, but it’s not factually incorrect.”

Billy’s well-known cackle bursts outta him for the first time in months.

Steve just seems to deflate with the power of his sigh, arms momentarily thrown up in the air in defeat before landing down against his jeans with a pointed SLAP as he sinks further down into the uncomfortable chair he’s been lounging in this entire time.

“Rob, what are you even doin here-“ he starts off, obviously trying to divert the topic of conversation, god he’s so whiney sometimes, Billy’s kinda obsessed with it, “wait-HOW are you even here?” His tone switches to confused disbeleif, eyeing her with confusion.

“I own a bike, dingus, and I have functioning legs.”

His eyebrows screw together, “You live like, ten minutes by car from here- whaddoyoumean you ‘rode your bike’, it’s like 90 degrees out-“ he flings an arm out towards the windowless wall.

“Jeez, okay mom, I-“

“Have you had anything to drink? Are you even wearing sunscreen?”

“I’m fine! It’s nice out-“

“It’s the middle of august !”

“It’s the beginning of august, first of all-“

“Heat strokes not a joke Bobbin, you can get-“

“Yes I know, Stevert, I’m in band, I’m outside wearing synthetic hell clothes for practice all summer-“

“Yeah, standing, not biking who knows how many miles uphill in the sun.”

Billy finally interjects, “Jesus I take it back, you’re obviously divorced.”

He gets twin looks of scandal.

“How dare you, first of all-“

“I would never-“

Billy just snorts and settles back into his sheets, “Sure, whatever.”

After a moment of silence

“Actually, Nancy dropped me off on the way to Forrest hills.”

“Oh, you bitch.” Steve breathes out right before Robin breaks out laughing.

Robin and Steve continue sniping back and forth, this time in Italian, Steve rapid-fire, Robin more careful and deliberate.

[archivesweats]

I’ve been into making my own planners this year. I buy journals for my journaling/writing, but I wanted something low profile to just log my days (stay aware of time passing/what I’m doing on the daily) and put my little notes and to-do lists. A couple weeks ago I finished a 4month planner I had made, and started with a different layout. Ultimately I scrapped it because It was a bit clunky and didn’t fit in my system nicely. It also didn’t have room for my miscellaneous lists and notes.

After playing around with some layout ideas, I came to the conclusion that I could use pocket notebooks as monthly or bimonthly planners, but for some godforsaken reason I decided it would be better if I made them myself instead of buying them. It’s a lot of work so I might end up buying them in the future, but I am a bit picky about my grids.

So these are 48 pages of ~5mm grids, with slightly darker lines to create top and left side margins for my monthly layouts.

First layout is just a monthly event overview. I haven’t done a heading/decorated yet bear with me lol

Second is monthly habit tracking (pictures pre-backfilling)

A page to track plant care (my info is very limited so far this month bc my last log book didn’t have enough space for it) // I put in a page to track what music I’m listening to, but it might become just a general media page idk.

Days aren’t pre-written, so my to do lists and grocery lists etc. just come up when they are relevant

[bloodsadx]

I just saw your post of all your toenails, and the pins stand out to me so much!! Where do you get them from where they can all be such unique colors? Or do you make them yourself somehow?

i hit up a couple different american pin places that are in contact with overseas pin factories, i looked into the process of making pins via youtube videos to make sure i understood what is actually happening in the pin making process. i designed a lot of colorways in photoshop/illustrator and i showed friends/teased those colorways on twitter before i ordered them. it’s not especially expensive to do a bunch of different colorways it’s just general bulk pricing guidelines made some of the colors slightly more expensive per unit bc i ordered less of them. i worked with an american contact rather than using say alibaba to source a factory because i wanted to be able to ask a lot of questions and also because the american contacts usually have long relatively steady relationships with the factories which allows me to ask for stuff like 5 of one colorway without the factory just ignoring my email because of not meeting a MOQ. but it did raise the price slightly, and i think the shipping might’ve gone from china to like, rhode island, then to me, so it might’ve taken me slightly longer to get them. i also ordered about 300 i believe total with 16 different colorways so i think it was probably less annoying to the factory than if i had ordered like 16 bespoke pins or something like that.

those pins are really the only thing i’ve ever outsourced before and i was really uncomfortable for a long time with the idea of outsourcing labor because i don’t really like the idea that just b.c i’m an artist and i have ideas for stuff de facto that means my ideas are worth the material/labor cost/human cost of producing them but i watched a lot of youtube videos about how pins are made and it seemed not that bad or at least not much worse than say screen printing t shirts re: exposure to potentially toxic chemicals.

i was starting the process of making more pins of other characters but my motivation has been low on that front. the reason i’m not saying the specific website i used is because i don’t think they provided me any particular advantages over any other website i could have contacted they were just one of the first to get back to me with answers/samples and to meet my specific needs. if you’re going to make pins or any kind of merchandise and are trying to move into a process where you’re paying a few hundred dollars down to potentially sell something to other people i would recommend really looking into that stuff rather than just going off of recommendations. it’s also worth noting that a lot of american companies will insist their products are american made and then outsource the actual production but because the artwork/money was exchanged in america it counts as “american made”. and also, a lot of factories will sublet contracts from other factories and don’t typically inform clients when they do this so it is highly unlikely you will be able to actually know where your thing is made (and under what conditions); to that end, recommending a specific gobetween who might talk to 5 different factories who all randomly sublet to each other means it’s nearly impossible for me to actually recommend A Place rather than just recommending Trying To Communicate As Clearly As Possible.

[daincrediblegg]

all right. since you asked very nicely I'll do an outfit breakdown for our dear girl, complete with pictures because I’ve become a bit of a hoe about victorian clothing since I began this whole fucking thing bc of her. (And everyone kindly thank @thejewelsofmyheart for asking)

Now I will note that some of the photo accompaniments are not quite completely the vibe I was going for sometimes in terms of fabric/color/vibe, but let it be noted these are all from my references I’ve collected on here and on pinterest over months and hey this is what I got if I was talking to a costume designer tho this is the kindof breakdown I would give them

Lady Terror's typical undergarments consists of drawers (notably crotchless- as ladies drawers were back then for what should be reasonably obvious reasons), corset (notably one with the recently invented front clasp closure that would make it easier to do up and undo without assistance- on a ship full of dudes this would be wise), chemise, petticoats 1 (linen), 2 (flannel) and 3 (which she only truly occasionally wears) corded- to give her skirt a bit of extra poof (not a fan of this when the cold gets extreme tho understandably). And those are at least the basic components.

Moving outward it gets a little different from what would typically be worn by women even on a ship, but Lady Terror's whole thing is she's trying to fit in with the men while still holding onto her identity as a woman. So to start, we have a collared shirt and waistcoat (where she also notably keeps her pocket watch, given to her by her father), which she typically wears while she's inside the ship and the climate isn't... fucking dead freezing all the time. in lieu of the vest sometimes she wars a smart red crossover. She also has two knitted sweaters (one a slightly lighter than naval blue - one her father used to wear- , one a handsome cream with a slight puff at the forearm to imitate the women's fashions of the day- knitted by a friend) . Alternatively, she has two thick long-sleeved woolen bodices, one in a more formal style that matches her woolen naval blue skirt (which she typically reserves for dinner with the officers) , and one lighter colored more casually styled one that she can wear with her vest over it (much more practical during the colder winter months).

As for OUTERWEAR she has a long naval peacoat (similar to that which most of the officers wear, save for a little more flare at the skirt to accommodate her skirt- and btw the coat pictured above I actually own), a capelet for when she needs to look a little more feminine and extra formal. Gloves, of course, are a must (one pair knitted, one pair lined with fur, and a pair of fur over-mittens that match her hat), a fur hat that she favors from her time in the Prussian seas, a bonnet (that she loathes), and a long red scarf, knitted for her by a friend back home.

And that just about does it for her everyday outfits while on the ships at least. She has a few more bodices and lighter underthings kept in store on Erebus(including one fancy dress complete with crinoline skirt), which doesn't much see the light of day anymore, but on the few occasions that she had to wear it before the expedition, she enjoyed it quite a lot.

Of course also, in my lady terror energy and inspiration tags I continue to compile and collect some dresses that I think would suit her for formal gatherings. She brought only one of note with her on the ship, but it remains in store for the majority of the story (but allow me to say without spoiling anything: Francis would recognize it on sight). I only had room for one more photo so there you have it. Outfit breakdown of the century. Good night.