#and I maintain that the only real mistake I see

[ghostodyssey]

Hold Me Like Water, Hold Me Like A Knife | Teaser

Ghost x Soap x Female Reader 1k words warnings: ghoap established relationship, nanny!reader, allusions to domestic abuse, possible references to sexual abuse/non-con in later chapters (not ghoap), eventual smut.

I was born on a day like this, I think. 

Storm-streaked he had called me once. If only he could see me now, wind beaten and with the acrid taste of seafret on my lips. These days I am more storm than woman. Because who can become the water without inheriting its violence, or its loneliness.

The Greeks said that water is the element of love. That Aphrodite herself was born from the pearlescent seafoam of the Kytherian sea. Born to be cruel and beautiful, and fearless. 

Looking out at the water now, fear is all I know.

The sky is streaked in veins of charcoal, indigo and jade that bleed into the vast, black tapestry of the sky, where the horizon meets the North Sea. A cruel wind tears through the narrow streets of the small, coastal town like a maelstrom and I cast my eyes skyward at the peal of thunder. When I was a girl, my grandfather taught me to count the moments between the cacophony of thunder and the flashes of lightning that flower like bruises along the skyline, so that I knew how many miles away it might be. I know now that I am standing in the eye of the storm.

In these quiet moments where reality abates me, I find myself adrift. Lost in a sea of memories. The mournful recollections of a home long gone. If it was ever real to begin with.

I clutch at the folder in my arms, cradling it in a vain attempt to protect it from the elements. The documents and references inside are all I have left. My destination looms in front of me like a taunt. 

The townhouse is nestled into a quiet corner of the sleepy coastal town, its slate facade rendering it rather unremarkable at first glance. However, at closer inspection, I notice the care with which this house has been made into a home. The large bay windows on the ground floor have been wreathed in greenery. Climbing ivy and primrose, which douses the house in the smell of honey and petrichor. A short wall fences off the small garden from the road. The yard itself is well maintained. If a little clinical, save for the myriad of childrens toys strewn about the lawn. 

I remain for a moment a solitary figure at the entryway of the property, contemplating the unfortunate series of events that had led me here. Further North than I have ever been. With little more than the clothes on my back and notes stashed frantically in my worn leather purse. The thought occurs to me then, that I have made a mistake in coming here.

The job posting had been painfully vague. Full-time nanny wanted. Room and board can be provided. Prior experience preferred. The distant postcode and generous wage had quickly assuaged any lingering doubts that had festered in my mind. 

I approach the townhouse’s pale, blue door tentatively. I knock thrice and the resounding silence gives me leave for my mind to wander. I stare down at the sleeves of my faded navy dress as it clings uncomfortable to my arms; the threads around the cuffs have begun to fray, the fabric falls strangely around the swell of my hips, and it is missing its top button. Shame pools in my stomach at its unsightly reflection, discoloured and sunbleached from years of use. 

Memory comes back with the swiftness of the tide. I am a girl again, coloured in the seraphic, blue light of a hospital room. I feel his hands, marred and mottled with rage, holding me down. The sounds of my screams as my dress is torn away from my heaving chest -- I had been a dreamer then. Aching and sentimental. Filled with the kind of naivety only possessed by green girls and soft-hearted poets. 

The girl I was is dead now. The woman that stands in her place had been forged of blood, and splintered bone-- made strong by violence and tempered by time. 

I’m still staring at my reflection in the glass when the door to the townhouse opens and all thought and sound eddies from my mind. The man standing in the doorway is a thing of lovely beauty. He’s built like some Greek Adonis, or perhaps Atlas holding the weight of the world on those broad shoulders. He looks as though he is carved from marble and mountain stone. The dark tresses of hair frame his fine, high cheekbones and the aquiline slope of his nose. Like something out of a painting. At last, I meet his gaze, a flash of sapphire against the pallid light of the afternoon.

For a moment silence permeates the air between us. 

“It’s bloody freezin’ bonnie, here come inside.” He welcomes me inside with the flex of a broad hand, stepping back from the door to let me in. I smile politely as I cross the threshold of the home. The smell of honeyed pears and cedar, tainted with something inherently masculine, floods my senses.

 The foyer of the spacious townhouse is beautiful; a testament to the care that has gone into making this house a home. The porch is lined with paneled wood, painted in a shade of navy only found here, in the coastal towns dotted along the Scottish border. The walls are hung with picture frames that map the long history of the family that lives here. I catalogue each one of them; candid shots of the dark haired man that span the globe, a series of drawings completed in a myriad of colourful crayon, pictures of a newborn, swaddled in pink and cradled in the tattooed arms of a masked man. By the staircase are three sets of shoes. I take it all in with a careful reverence for the love which has been contained between these walls. This place is a home. One that has been truly cherished by the people that live here. 

“You’re here for the nanny job, aye?” He asks, the calloused pads of his fingers ghosting my arm as he maneuvers me into the centre of the foyer. 

“Um ye-yes, you must be Simon?”

“He bloody wishes,” The dark haired man muses lightly, “ - nah bon, you can call me Johnny.” he says, holding out a broad palm to me. I take it tentatively and introduce myself rather clumsily. 

“So Simon is --” 

“Just through there.” Johnny interrupts, settling a hand on the small of my back and guiding me into the next room, where Simon must be waiting.

[kiragecko]

If I had added a few paragraphs of my usual rambling to the front of this, it would have 1/50th of the engagement.

It would also have 1/1000th of the mockery, because the lovely weird people who stick around through my rambling are both nicer than the population at large, and interested in parsing complex statements. I have spent my whole life confounded by how the world at large organizes things, so I doubt it will suddenly find my organization style to be clear and simple. Therefor, this problem is likely to continue happening.

Conclusion: I could probably benefit from rambling more to scare away the mean people.

I'm not American, but grew up in a country that is REALLY used to centering American opinions. I'd love to see how many people here are actually American, and how many are just accepting of a lot of American content.

Boundaries are fake, so most places show up at least twice. Choose the grouping that you connect with more.

[nobodyfamousposts]

Scarlet Lady Top 10 Favorite Characters: Number 10

For @zoe-oneesama

Okay, I realized as I was writing these that there is way way WAY too much to each of these and why to be able to put them all into one post, so I'm breaking them down into individual essays focusing on each one to keep them palatable.

So without further ado....

Number 10: EVERYONE

Yeah, I know it may be cheating but at this point it was the only choice I could make.

I came to regret making this list, specifically because I couldn’t seem to make up my mind as far as who all would be on it. I reread the entire series. I kept switching people in and out as I was reminded of characters or scenes I loved. And I came to a realization that there is no character in the whole of this series I didn’t enjoy to some extent that they didn't deserve some love in this list and I kind of wish I could have added all of them just to give them all some spotlight.

Yes, it is partly because everyone is vastly improved compared to Canon. But as I reread the series, it came to mind that if Canon didn’t exist and I didn’t have the comparison between the characters, I still very much would have loved this series and everyone in it.

Cause and Effect Exist

It's important to have a setting in which the characters and their actions make sense for the world they live in. When the setting is supposed to be modern day earth, we need the people to be able to show that they are capable of surviving in it on a day to day basis without being so massively incompetent that they would do something like accidentally ingesting poison. Or forgetting how to breathe.

I would think it would be obvious, but sometimes Canon makes me wonder. Which is never a good look for a show that is supposed to have some level of seriousness and involve superheroes.

Here’s the thing Canon can’t seem to get: when a majority of the things that go wrong in a plot are because of everyone having to be stupid to make the plot work, you have a problem with the writing. Changing the material in a story so that younger people can enjoy it does NOT mean dumbing down the characters and throwing in arbitrary lessons with no real reason to them. Even if the show itself is geared towards kids, you can’t treat the audience like they’re stupid.

In Scarlet Lady, the people aren’t stupid.

Silly, yes. Wrong, often. Overdramatic, definitely. But while they may make stupid choices sometimes, they aren’t so dumb that anyone should have concerns about their ability to function at a higher level than an overcaffinated 2 year old.

They’re fooled initially the way many of us would be with a biased story that hits the news first. Oblivious to the problems in a situation that they logically wouldn’t have much direct insight into. Prone to making mistakes and incorrect judgement the way that anyone would. That's normal. That's expected.

But they’re not so incapable as to forget things that happen right in front of them between one day and the next. Or even between one scene and the next.

Things carry over. We see cause and effect. We see consequences—bad and good. And those consequences extend not only for the episode or season but for the entire series.

Aurore KNOWs Alec cheated her before and maintains a tight control over him and prevents more of his antics.

Adrien and Alya maintain a cold attitude towards Lila for some time after her reveal as a liar. And it even remains a point against her as used by Chloe as herself and as Scar to discount what she says.

The boys of the class remember Adrien’s “love letter to Marigold” and try to win him her merch because they’re bros like that. 

Adrien himself remembers the instances of his dad being a massive prick and instead of being surprised and “sad boi uwuwu” each time it happens like it’s supposed to be a surprise that the massive prick would choose to be a prick, he very clearly moves through the stages of grief to the point of a sort of acceptance that involves planning around and even for him.

Gabriel’s horrible parenting and general lack of concern for Adrien or his wellbeing as he ends up a casualty of various akuma attacks was played off for laughs when such incidents occurred. Then they were brutally called out against him in the Finale as a way to counter his claims of doing everything for Adrien’s sake. And the big reveal of the Birthday Scarf…utilized in the last way anyone would have wanted.

And Chloe is perhaps the biggest example as her antics ARE NOT forgotten or ignored by anyone. The classmates still interact with Chloe and are relatively nice to her, but they don’t just forget that she’s treated them horribly. They don’t act surprised when she does anything horrible. Nor does anyone just laugh it off or excuse it as “just who she is”. We see follow up to her behavior—the class fully expecting her to cause trouble and actively try to plan around it. People calling her out on past behaviors. And even bigger consequences as time goes on. Such as Adrien breaking off the friendship. And a blink and you miss it fridge logic moment in Ikari Gozen when you realize that when they said she was banned from all future Gabriel-involved competitions, they meant it.

The fact that by the time the big reveal happened that Chloe was Scarlet Lady, no one was shocked.

Story-wise, this is showing the passage of time and the effect the events of the story are having. It’s showing that there is lasting impact and that what happens to the characters matters.

Meta-wise, this is Zoe rewarding us for paying attention.

Continuity exists in Scarlet Lady. Time exists. The people exist. When anyone does anything, you get the sense that they aren’t operating in a vacuum. The things they do matter. There are consequences. There is an impact. And if there is an impact in the story, there will be an impact on the audience.

Which leads to…

Character Depth/Character Growth

Usually in TV shows of this nature, if there ARE character arcs for the side characters, they only occur over the course of a single episode devoted to focusing on them before moving on elsewhere. 

Canon didn’t give us that much at all in favor of having every episode that should focus on other characters learning and growing instead forcing Marinette to be wrong in some way and learn an arbitrary lesson that often would have better served for someone else.

In Scarlet Lady, the arcs we get are impressive for all that they’re relatively unobtrusive. They aren’t big. They aren’t world-ending. And the thing is, most change in life isn’t. It can just FEEL that way.

Like the way it felt for Kim when he first found out Ondine liked him and then had his confession to her screwed up.

And the way it felt for Kagami when she lost that first match against Adrien.

Then there’s the way it felt for Chloe when she was dismissed by her mother, had her popularity go downhill, and ended up losing her Miraculous.

…or the way it felt for Adrien when he discovered his dad was Hawk Moth.

The reactions we witness are in a great part due to actions outside of the characters’ control, but are ultimately a result of the experiences they have had and the ways they have changed as a result.

The question becomes: are the characters that we meet at the beginning pretty much identical to how they are at the end? Is the world?

The answer in Scarlet Lady is no.

Whether because the characters themselves change or our perception of them does, we can see that they have all undergone some sort of events that create a difference between the start and end points.

Not all of them HAVE to undergo some big emotional arc. Not all of them NEED to. But the characters still mostly go through some sort of growth by the end that I feel make them stronger and healthier people.

You’ve got the big life-altering changes like Lila and Sabrina.

You’ve got the little changes like Nino and Ivan.

You’ve even got the most minuscule, beginning stages of change in Chloe.

You’ve got growth that creates such perfect setup with Mylene when she starts off scared and traumatized by how things went with Stoneheart then is the one who confronts him in the end. And the parallel between the finale and the beginning when she returns him to normal by kissing him just like they did in that first episode to change him back then, too! (Just….GOD, I CANNOT GET OVER THIS!)

You’ve got them reaching out and making friends and relating to people they hadn’t before.

And by the end of it all, we get characters who feel like people rather than props.

They don’t all have to change. They don’t necessarily need to go through an entire emotional arc and back again. They just need to be part of the world they’re in.

Nino doesn’t just pop into existence when Adrien or Alya need someone to interact with. Kagami isn’t just a non-horrible or non-evil love rival for Adrien or a stepping stool for him to “practice“ at being in a relationship before it’s time for him to try the “real thing” with his endgame pairing. Luka isn’t just a decent guy who is the only actual form of support for the female lead and yet only lacking that precious “male lead” title or all around just not “Adrien enough” to fill the role.

Adrien isn’t just a “sad boy” meant to be a main love interest, Villain’s Morality Pet, and the one everyone idolizes and chases after just cuz he’s the male lead and that’s how you show he’s desirable I guess. Marinette isn’t the atlas keeping the story alive because no one else is apparently capable of learning lessons and changing, or even just the bare basics of functioning as individuals. Chloe isn’t just there to be horrible for no reason and get away with it so she can continue to be horrible until the writers suddenly need her to be sympathetic.

And the rest of the classmates aren’t just some Greek chorus there to fill the background.

We see them interact. We see them making jokes or jabs. We see them even…*gasp* having different opinions!

And on something as major and life-controlling as feelings about the “Hero of the City” no less! Why, that’s the sort of thing that would break up friendships and determine who you can sit next to at the cafeteria! The horror! The scandal!

And…oh hey. This puts the characters in different groups. It links them with characters other their Canonically designated pairings and groups. This lets them disagree on things and not need to vilify any of them. This creates implications that add depth to the story and to the people in it.

The characters can disagree without being enemies. They can be wrong without having to be evil. They can make mistakes without having to be stupid. And they can change and grow—both for better and worse.

And we see both and in different ways. SO many different ways.

Adrien goes from excited and impulsive to buckling under the forced responsibility and weight of a partner who hinders more than she helps.

Lila goes from selfishly bad and self-serving to selfish but friendly with better direction of her talents in a less self-serving way.

And Chloe just goes from selfish and bad to selfish and worse..

I mean, it says something that the combination of Lila’s growth and Chloe’s fall from grace resulted in Hawk Moth being unable to use Lila as a tool for his Heroes Day plot like he originally intended.

The key is that whether they necessarily grow or become better people, these characters are still IMPACTED by the events around them and AFFECTED as a natural result of the world they live in. 

You can’t help but feel for them in some way as a result. It’s part of why I love them.

The other part of why I love them is a bit more epic though…

Crowning Moments of Awesome

If there’s one thing I love, it’s seeing characters be awesome. I love it when characters get to be awesome. I would love to see more of it. Especially when the ones involved are characters you wouldn’t normally expect or get to see have a chance to shine.

And it’s when you see these characters be awesome that you really get the sense that yes, this character would work as a hero.

Seeing Max help against Robustus. Seeing Kim help against Odine. Alix stepping in during Pharaoh, calling out her brother’s fan fiction, and helping the heroes escape the security system at the Lourve. Alya stepping in during Copycat to clue Chat in to what’s going on and later keeping Anansi distracted to keep her away from Chat while he’s trapped. Rose kicking Nightmare!Chat in the face to defend Marinette even when she’s on the run from her own nightmares in Sandboy. Luka leading groups twice to stepping in and helping the heroes deal with akumas. Nathaniel standing up for Marinette and Sabrina when they’re accused in Rogercop and then helping the heroes in Reverser.

These little moments of support make such a big different and really make it make sense that the heroes would trust these people with magical jewelry to help them in battle.

And the little moments of characters being petty or strong or smart or turning the tables or just showing off what they’re capable of. Even without superpowers.

Adrien getting petty revenge for Nino and finding a tactic to counter Gabriel in the future.

The Police Force in Rogercop just saying “Nope” to obeying an obvious akuma. 

Zoe manipulating akumas twice to help the heroes. Her two Reasons You Suck Speeches to her mom and Bustier.

Every instance of payback that Tikki gets against Chloe.

Everyone in the Finale. Just…EVERYONE in the Finale. The characters who manage to avoid akumatization by either spotting the flaws in the illusion or refusing to give in to fear and even protecting others. Nora smacking any akuma that enters the home. Claudie pulling off Power Mom and ordering Max to stop attacking the city then helping to calm him down. Prince Ali and Juleka freeing Rose by kissing her! Chris, Ella, Etta, and Manon saving Mylene! Mylene saving Ivan with a kiss in a direct callback to how they first got together in Stoneheart! (Yes, I am still stuck on that!) Ondine saving Kim! Lila and Sabrina saving Alix! Luka facing Riposte alone and unarmed and then Kitty Section saving Kagami! ALL of the Heroes making a final comeback to help take down Hawk Moth for good! Just—AAAAAH!

How could Miraculous have peaked with this in Season 2 when this is Grand Finale material? Because there are few things more awesome than getting to see ALL the characters the heroes met and befriended and helped throughout the course of the story stepping up at the final battle to help take the Big Bad down!

Like…can we just take a moment to appreciate how everyone gets a chance to stand out in some way? Not all of them necessarily good, exactly (looking at you Andre). But still stand out and be memorable. Even characters who didn’t originally get much focus. Especially characters who were originally functioning as cardboard cutouts to fill a scene.

Anyone remember Aurore? How for the FIRST akuma in the pilot of the series and one who is quite frankly the most interesting and noteworthy, we don’t really get to see her again except in the background.

In Scarlet Lady, we got to actually look in to the contest and how she lost as well as the aftermath. She wasn’t some arrogant showoff who deserved to lose to the “sweet down to earth rival”, she was a girl who legitimately tried her best and had valid reason to be upset. Seeing her get revenge on Alec for cheating and humiliating her on live TV was well worth it.

Or how about the Photographer? Just there to take photos of Adrien in the park for a photo shoot or be the school photographer, but otherwise has no personality and is only remembered for his weird “spaghetti” line.

In Scarlet Lady, his role is two-fold. He acts as a sort of supporter for Adrien in his crush. Taking really good pictures of him being happy with the girl he likes. Taking more class photos at the behest of this girl for the sake of a friend who missed out on the class picture. And then there’s his OTHER role as a sort of antagonist to Chloe. He becomes one of the only ones in the early seasons willing and capable of dismissing her tantrums.

They’re both given more character. They get moments to stand out and BE awesome. So is everyone.

EVERYONE. From the classmates and big named characters we see regularly to the side characters who only appear once or twice. They all get some good scenes and focus that give them their own identities. All of them are memorable. None of them can really be ignored or forgotten. And part of what made making this list so difficult was that I found myself getting attached to pretty much everyone as I came across each of them that I couldn’t quite make up my mind.

Everyone in this fic has done something to make me happy and warrant my approval. Even the characters I normally wouldn’t like at all had their moments to shine and elicit an “okay, that was cool” from me.

Thus I grant this spot to everyone. To all the characters I don’t get the chance to mention. To all the ones I like albeit somewhat less than others. To all the ones I know are horrible but can’t help but like regardless. To all the ones I fought with myself for THREE MONTHS over which one would get this spot.

I love all of them.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

kildare enduro

words: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, fingering, nipple play, p in v sex, unprotected sex, loner reader, brief talk about wards death, takes place during s4e1 (no sofia.), drinking, kind of drunk sex but they actually specifically say they dont want to be that drunk

“not just john b- look at that other late entry…” the announcer says, looking to his co-host also positioned in front of a microphone.

“do you recognize who is under that helmet?” he asks.

“i do not… i guess we have a mystery contender as well.”

rafe looks over the crowd, frowning inside of his helmet when he realizes there's no one here to cheer him on, eyes glaring with jealousy at the crowd of pogues. it's one of his biggest complaints about the event, the fact that they're allowed to compete too with their shit bikes and even worse racing abilities.

“and that bike… is that a modified ktm 450 rally? that's a beautiful machine. not too different from rafe camerons. looks like they'll be the ones to watch today.”

the announcers statement has rafe looking over, seeing the blacked out bike with metallic purple and blue accents, and the equally blacked out face mask, not allowing him to see who it is underneath.

“thats got to be the most expensive bike racing here today. dominated last years dakar rally, and pretty much every endurance race it's entered into.”

“very excited to see what the modifications are, looks like enhanced tires for driving through the sand…” 

rafe drones out the voices, focusing on the race to come, especially knowing he's got stiff competition this year.

he takes a deep breath, watching the green flag raise high in the sky before dropping quickly, and he's off like a bolt of lightning, sand spewing up behind him.

he gets instantly to the front, but he can hear someone on his tail. a quick glance to his right reveals the metallic bike, skidding over the top of the sand like it doesn't weigh a pound.

“rafe cameron has the early lead, but our late entry is hot on his tail! this could cause trouble for our previous winner.”

rafe takes the turn and is overtaken, but not by more than a wheel.

“looks like rafe cameron is just beat out as they head into the trees!” the commentator shouts, the crowd clamoring to figure out who knows the rider currently in the lead and pulling away.

rafe doesn't let the other bike get farther than a length ahead as he heads into the whoops, the bike soaring into the air before touching down.

rafe smirks under the mask when the driver ahead briefly loses control, wheel wobbling as it hits an uneven patch of dirt, and rafe speeds ahead, taking advantage of every small mistake.

he's not ahead for long, as his bike stutters in speed heading through the dip in the road, water causing his wheels to spin, while the racer in all black and deep purple speeds past, leaving rafe to groan in frustration, especially when he turns and realizes other bikers aren't far behind.

“and here they come! around the bouy and-oh! cameron just made contact with our leader, it looks like he's getting sick of being behind, and overtakes around the turn with our mystery driver right on his heels!”

rafe smirks as he retakes the lead, not willing to let some random take over his win. rafe pops his front wheel up, revving the engine and coaxing more speed out of the bike, knowing sand is flying in the faces of the riders behind him.

“this race is turning out to be a real nail biter, it could be anyone's game as they head back into the trees.”

“wait, wait- is that? JJ MAYBANK IS GOING TO JUMP THE INLET!”

the crowd of people goes wild as jj leapfrogs to the front of the pack, touching down just in front of the new leader, with rafe hot on his back tire as well.

“and our mystery rider is closing in fast, it looks like jj isn't going to maintain his lead. there could be some serious drama at the end of our race here.”

rafe growls as the bikes all come side by side, squeezing jj in the middle. rafe watches as the other riders leg comes out and kicks at the side of jjs bike, pushing into him, and rafe barely manages to brake and get out of the way, falling behind jj.

“fuck!” rafe shouts. there's no way he's losing to a random rider and maybank. he revs on the throttle, touching the front wheel against jjs back and shoving his bike to the side, not looking back as he careens into the air, managing to keep himself right way up and barely make it to the finish line ahead of topper.

“our mystery rider takes the win! i am dying to know who is under that helmet!” the commentators calls out as the checkered flag is waved.

“ladies and gentlemen, it looks like your enduro champion is…” the entire crowd watches with baited breath as the blacked out helmet comes off, and long flowing hair comes tumbling down.

there's an audible gasp, and rafe has to blink to make sure there isn't sand in his eyes and what he's seeing is real.

“is that… y/f/n y/l/n? i think it is! who even knew she raced? what an amazing, showstopping performance from the female rider!”

rafe tugs his helmet off, shoving down the kickstand on his bike. “y/n?” rafe shouts out.

he doesn't know you very well, not very well at all, but your reputation precedes you. graduated a few years before him, you've always been seen as one of the top kooks, your family being established in the area for generations.

“oh, hey.” you smile at him, fingers running through your hair as the crowd surges in now that the bikes have halted. “good race.” you look him up and down. “i mean, i guess not good enough though.”

“this is our first female winner in kildare enduro history! ladies and gentleman, give it up again for y/n.”

“let's go!” you scream out as someone lifts you into the air, raising your helmet far over your head.

rafe knows second means nothing as he grunts angrily. he kicks himself for messing up in the woods, if he would have come out before you there's no way he wouldn't be the one being celebrated at the moment.

--

“on me.” you state to rafe as you slide a beer over the counter to him, coming to take a seat next to him, sipping on your own.

“shouldn't you be celebrating or some shit?” rafe questions, his voice low and rough as he watches a drop of beer sip down your chin.

“i am celebrating.” you state. “what does it look like?”

“where's all your friends and shit?” rafe looks around, expecting to see the same gaggle of girls you used to hang around with in high school.

“what friends?” you scoff under your breath, before frowning and looking at rafe. “i don't see anyone with you either. not even topper. he's not your little servant anymore?”

“me and top are fine.” rafe says. in truth, he's pushed everyone away since wards death, and eventually topper stopped trying, stopped checking in.

“mhm.” you hum, finishing off your beer and flagging down the bartender for another.

“since when did you race anyways?” 

“always have.” you shrug, looking over at rafe, realizing for the first time now that you're up close to him how dazzling his eyes are. “just kept it to myself. not exactly a lady like hobby.”

“a hobby?” rafe scoffs. “you call the way you raced a hobby?”

“i was shit today.” you shake your head. “made mistakes.”

“it was only with your slight mistakes that i was even close.”

“watch yourself, cameron.” you take a sip of your beer. “it sounds like you're starting to be nice to me.”

“sounds like you need someone to be nice to you.” rafe is shocked by the fact that no one seems to care that the enduro race winner is in the bar, like the shock of finding out who won quickly wore off, leaving you alone once again.

“i like being alone.” you state, swallowing harshly to hide your true emotions. “all friends turn out to be fake in the end.”

“family too.” rafe frowns, before finishing the rest of his beer.

“want another?” you ask, tilting your head to the side, your hair flowing over your shoulder, just urging rafe to reach out and touch.

“no.” he shakes his head. “don't wanna be too drunk.”

“too drunk for what?” you hum.

“for when i try to take you home.”

--

“fuck.” you moan, head pressing back into the pillows as rafe continues sucking on your nipple, his hand between your thighs.

“god, right there!” you squeal out as he rubs against your clit, your wetness only growing by the second.

you reach down and push at the waistband of his underwear, trying to tempt him to take them off, but rafe just switches to the other side of your chest, sucking a deep purple hickey on the side of your breasts before taking your nipple back in his mouth.

rafes finger drops to prod at your entrance, feeling how warm you are as his digit slowly sinks in, your moans only growing as you pussy sucks in his finger.

“fuck,” you whine. “need that to be your cock, come on.”

rafe keeps his movement slow as he thrusts his finger in and out, feeling the gummy texture of your walls and the way your cunt grips him, knowing he's going to love having his cock inside you.

rafe adds in a second finger, feeling you stretch and adjust as he moves back to your other nipple, his tongue dragging across your chest, not wanting to lose the taste of your skin for even a second.

the race is in the back of his mind, the last thing he wants to think about. he'd lose a million times more if it gets you in his bed, moaning and pulsing around his fingers.

“rafe-” you tug at his short hair, his head lifting up to look at you, lips pink and glossy. “fuck me.”

rafe smiles, glad that you're just as needy as he is. he regrets not pursuing you earlier, if only he knew what he was missing just down the street.

rafe shoves his underwear down and flings them off the bed. your eyes widen as you take in his length, but you can't stay looking for long as rafes lips smash into yours.

your arms wrap around his neck, tugging him in flush to your body as his cock presses against your entrance, already hard just from kissing and fingering you.

rafes lips mold perfectly to you as he presses in, and this time he doesn't bother going slow, immediately setting a fast pace as his hips move back and forth.

your kiss turns into gasps and moaning into each other's mouth, your hands coming to rafes cheeks, keeping his face close, keeping his blissed out eyes locked with yours.

“your-” rafe grunts as he fucks you. “your pussy is perfect.”

you smile and surge up to press your lips against rafes. “a winners pussy.” you can't help but continue to rub the race in, at least a little bit.

“consider this my congratulations.” rafe smirks as one hand drops to rub at your pussy, thumb stroking your clit in even movements, contrasting the rapid, desperate thrusts.

your eyes slide closed as much as you wish you could keep them open, watching rafe above you, but the pleasure is all too much as he pounds into you.

you pull your knees up, spreading your legs even wider, giving even more space for rafe to fuck into you, his thrusts turning feral as his moans turn to grunts and growls.

“want…” you gasp out. “want your cum in me.”

“you're not gonna get it that easy.” rafe smirks, suddenly flipping so you're on top, his back bouncing against the mattress as you flop forward against him, hips high in the air.

you don't let up for even a second, immediately taking over the movements as you raise and lower your cunt, bouncing on his cock.

rafe doesn't stop either, an arm circling around your waist as he thrusts up off the bed to meet you.

“gonna make me put in work even though i won?” you hum out, breasts pushing against rafes bare torso, his hard muscles stimulating your already sensitive nipples.

“damn right.” rafe smirks. “can't let you get off too easily for that maybank move.”

you tsks. “never liked that fucking pogue anyways.”

“i think i might have to marry you.” rafe chuckles, heart fluttering when he sees you smile, swearing you're glowing as he pumps his hips up into you.

“don't… stop.” you move one hand to over rafes, pushing it tight against your pussy, keeping his thumb in place as it thrumbs against you.

“im close too.” rafe states, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead as he puts all his effort into thrusting up into you, into spearing his cock as deep into your pussy as he can.

you let out a moan, and with one more swipe of rafes thumb, you're gone, entire body shaking before going slack, leaving rafe to quickly flip you over, hands coming to your hips as he pushes inside of you, cumming in spurts, filling you up with his warmth.

rafe collapses next to you the moment he finishes, arms completely giving out from the exhaustion of your activities and the earlier race.

you both breathe deeply, trying to regain some sort of mental clarity as your high wears off.

“shit.” you whine out, breaking the silence. “we gotta do that more often.”

“and…” rafe turns over, propping his head up on his elbow. “maybe get dinner together too?”

“rafe cameron, are you asking me out on a date?” you laugh.

“i just came inside of you, i don't think it should be that surprising.” rafe rolls his eyes. “besides, seems like you could use some company.”

you turn to face rafe as well, his blue eyes looking into yours. “i don't usually date losers, but i guess second place isn't too bad.”

rafe shakes his head before pressing your lips back together.

[withonly-sweetheart]

but what about his younger self? sfw <3

<><><><>

re2(r) leon that just can't wait to get to the academy. he got up at unearthly hours just to get dressed, drive all the way down to raccoon only to get there ages before anyone else. all just to make a good first impression on his superiors.

so imagine his heart sinking when all he gets from his newly assigned t.o. is a scowl thrown at him, the praise he would've gotten at the academy pushed to the furthest corner of his brain when he makes it his goal to impress you.

you point out every little flaw, chastise him harshly when he makes minor mistakes, and your peers stand by with helpless smiles and nonchalant shrugs; "it's just your luck, rookie, you got stuck with her."

of course, and he complies with every little task you assign him, no matter how much he sees how easy the other rookies get it. you're young and eager, the easiest way to form you is from the start.

but your little game with shielding him from true horrors can only go so far. sure, being patrol and all, you've done your best to shoo him from real danger, keeping him safe, because that's the least you could do him. you failed in your last assignment, and you're not about to let it happen again.

in all your shouting, all your screaming at him, you really do care for your boot. your rookie. so your horror when you find him unconscious on a hospital bed surpasses the grief you felt when your first boot was killed in action.

when he finally comes home, you're notified immediately, courtesy of your fellow officer, and he opens the door, still bloody and battered, but at least he looks clean. his eyes are drooping yet still alert enough to recognize you, instinctively stepping to the side to let you in.

"what the fuck were you thinking?" your voice has never been this level, this calm with him. it surprises him just as much as it does you.

"i've been training my whole life for this-"

"trained cops don't disregard direct orders!" you fling the accusation out into the air between you, and almost immediately you can see the effects.

they come in the straightening of leon's spine, the batting of his eyelashes as he restrains himself from crying, because the last thing he needs is for you to think he's weaker than you already assume.

"i-i was just trying to..."

"trying to what, leon?" you hiss. the statement sounds sharper than you want it to, but backing down now would give him the chance to turn the tables.

"i thought if i did something right, for once, you might actually like me."

the silence between you is thick, heavy, like the burden just released from leon's shoulders. and your response is delayed.

"... what?"

"i said-"

"no, i heard you the first time. but what the fuck is that supposed to mean, boot?"

his eyes flit sideways, avoiding your steely gaze, a gaze you work hard to maintain. did he mistake your strictness for hatred? that's never happened before.

"i messed everything up, like i always do."

"you never... what?" your confusion comes through every single time in that damn word, because the placeholder for what you really want to say can't really be... well, replaced.

you take a step towards him, and he goes rigid, narrowing his eyes, preparing for the inevitable lecture he was hoping would be saved until your shift the next day.

but it never comes. you stare up into his eyes, gorgeous eyes, really, eyes that you had admired from his side profile. he's restless, you realize that now, fingers trembling like shaky leaves on a windy day.

"take a day off, leon."

"... ma'am?"

"you heard me, rookie. you need that injury to recover before you can hit the streets again."

"but-"

"no buts. that's a direct order, one that i hope you'll stick to this time, officer kennedy. you did well out there today. you held your will, did the right thing even though we decided against it."

"... you're really letting me off the hook?"

your fingers find the unfamiliar neckline of his white tank top, and you adjust it carefully, just as you would with his shirt collar. he flushes crimson, but your touch is nothing more than a doting gesture.

"just this once, boot. don't get too used to it."

series masterlist

[revelboo]

How in the fuck are you pumping out these fics THIS QUICKLY

Guessing you’re new here? I type these short forms pretty quickly if I’m not busy

Stand Too Close Pt 9

IDW Prowl x Reader

• He’d hoped after, he’d be over it. If anything, he made it worse. Because now he can’t stop thinking about how horrified the other Autobots will be if they find out. What Optimus will think of him. He’s supposed to be looking after you, keeping you safe.

• “Stop staring at me like that,” you mutter, wrapping your blanket firmly around yourself. Even with your back to him, you can feel his optics on you. Feel that answering heat spark through you that whispers that something is very wrong with you. How else can you can hate him and still want him. “And that is never happening again.” The words for you as much as him.

• “You weren’t complaining when I was inside you,” he mutters and you glare at him over your shoulder, face reddening. But you don’t argue with him. You can’t when he’d heard those sounds you’d made, felt you holding onto him. Door wings flicking, he swallows a laugh. Wonders if you’ll be taken away and given to another caretaker when Optimus realizes what he’s done. It’s what he’d wanted originally, but now it just makes him angry. As messed up as it is, he enjoys arguing with you. Pissing you off just for fun to watch those angry eyes flash.

• “A moment of weakness.” That’s all, even if for such a stuck up jerk he fucks like an animal. Even if for a short time, you felt like you’d seen the real Prowl. And that the composed, in control bot is all an act. Inhaling slowly, you tip your head back to stare at the ceiling. Anything but seeing those optics back to being pure ice. You’re still naked under the blanket, shifting to rub your thighs together and feeling his excess there. “I like you better angry.”

• He almost does laugh at that, because you don’t realize that he’s always angry. Always on a razor’s edge to maintain control. And he’s so tired of it, but he’s the one that everyone looks to. The infallible tactician who never makes mistakes or loses his temper. It’s what’s expected of him and that weight is slowly breaking him. “Not all of us have the luxury of being able to throw a tantrum.”

• “I don’t know,” you say with a shrug. “Smashing things just for the sheer pleasure of watching them break is good for the soul sometimes.” Because sometimes the only way to get over your issues is to destroy something. It’s something you’ve gotten good at over the years. Not only burning bridges, but delighting in it. He’s staring at you when you look at him and there’s understanding in the wry twist of his lips. If you’re fire, he’s gasoline. No matter what, this isn’t going to end well. You’ve never been good at doing the responsible thing, though.

• You’re not joking, even though you’re smiling reluctantly. If he really let loose, though? You’d run if you knew half the poison in his processor. Every injustice, every senseless death, if he was let off his leash to act without conscious, he’s not sure what he’d do in retaliation. Or if he’d want to stop. Because if he were free to eliminate threats covertly? Without running them past Optimus for permission that will never come, he’s not sure if there’s any line he wouldn’t cross to end this war. Anything he would destroy. That’s why he needs to stay in control, because he’s scares himself and that fury is always right there demanding action.

Previous

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[ginnysgraffiti]

Hiii. I wanna say I love your works for all of Timmy’s characters. Ive gotten back into my timothee obsession and after reading your fic on what each character tastes like i was thinking maybe what sex is like with each of his characters? Feel free to ignore this if you don’t want to do it just thought I’d shoot my shot!❤️

so touched to see that someone appreciates my stories TT

i really tried my best with this, i hope i didn't leave any grammar mistakes here and there, enjoy! <3

&. LEE

for a while, lee refused to have sex. he was terrified of hurting you.

however, when you reassured him and told him it was completely okay, he let himself lose it completely and follow his instincts.

that's why sex with lee is rough, primal and wet, and you never actually doubted that.

nights passed in his pick-up, in motels where he would let you stay just to have more comfort and mainly a proper bed, at his aunt's house, anything.

sex with lee would be amazing everywhere, and not a time where he would refuse to dirty talk to you in the meanwhile.

he can fuck. over and over. he's like a rabbit. talking about him slowing down or stopping by himself, the thought wouldn't even cross his mind if your voice doesn't beg for it. he's fast. that's it. he's so damn fast, rough and shameless. he isn't used to matching his pace with his partner's or even taking their time with them, so it would take him some time to get used to your preferences or just maintain control.

lee would be sooooo loud. he would whine and grunt and beg. he also loves when you suck his fingers.

he even ties you up and blindfolds you while playing with your clit, thrilling the fact that you're oblivious about his next move.

the first time would probably be in some natural reserves, where he likes to spend most of his nights. he would fuck you hard on the back of his pickup, so the bright and shining stars could be the only witnesses. he would then take you inside, place you on the front seat and cuddle you to sleep on his lap.

he would start with needy and hungry kisses. everywhere. his tattooed hands would overstimulate you well to hear your moans even before starting. it would be the best adventure ever. he would try anything, all in. he would make sure to use his bony finger as best as he can, he would spread your legs like no one else and start with the damage. the real damage. because once he has the green light (and he always wants your permission) he won't stop. he will destroy you in any way possible. then, he would gradually slow down, return to use his fingers and feel you closer and closer.

he would watch hypnotized as milky fluid, both his cum and yours, leaks from inside of you. he would worship you as his most precious treasure.

&. HAL

do we seriously need to read how it would be to have sex with hal to imagine it?

there's not even the need to say anything, he's already on top of you.

hal is absolutely vocal, desperate groans, loud curses that never leave his mouth.

his mouth is always, always wide open as his pupils roll back.

dom for sure, he's too prideful to be below you, but if you beg enough, maybe he'll let you inside him. he's into fucking you when you're on all fours on the bed, maybe it's a king-thing, but you love it.

he never actually stops when you beg him to, but he absolutely cares about your body after the act.

you're his queen, but when hal is needy you can happily forget about your queen duties. his words, not yours.

he's also into pet play, you're his mutt and he makes it known.

he often enjoys to make you scream his name, moan louder and louder to make sure the messengers, maids or court servants hear you through the door.

making them hear the bed cracking, the slaps he keeps giving you to see your tears softly running down your pale cheeks, the way you lose your breath as he pulls your hair to almost make you swallow his cock.

he's violent, let's say, but he can actually care. really care.

he always adds "my" in front of pet names. my whore, my queen, my sweetheart, my love, my angel.

his kinks include cock worship, absolutely, breeding (we don't need to mention it), power imbalance, exhibition, humiliation (giving, of course), sadism (uhm...).

you never actually discovered how far his sadism can really go, and that scares you a little bit, hearing the servants' opinions or stories about it.

you know he's capable of anything, anything.

however, he makes sure, every single night, to massage you properly during the aftermath, kissing softly every inch of your inner tights while his finger tips play with your nipples.

&. LAURIE

laurie is a softie big cuddly boyyyy.

he waited so long for you to tell him you loved him before he made any sexual advances. he wanted it to be purely making love; not having sex.

he always will treat you first, you're his everything.

he would always clean you first, massage you first, check you out before even looking at himself.

not the most vocal, but definitely not silent. laurie prefers to let out soft moans and quiet praises rather than being vocal and over the top.

he would treat you more like a best friend in public, gently stealing you cheek kisses or holding your fingers under the table. he would eventually tease your inner thighs when -absolutely rarely- he would feel like doing it.

he's a sweet boy, the most intense he gets is probably the occasional slap on the ass when you look or sound too good.

laurie loves your lipsticks. he knows every single one you own and how every single one tastes. when they have a more visible colour and you leave kiss marks on his neck, he would surely refuse to remove them. also, he's into asking you to leave kisses on his shirts.

he's a romantic boy, come on.

during sex, he would always hold your hands. always, never letting go, holding onto you as if you were his only lifeline.

&. ELIO

elio is just like lee, absolutely vocal and completely down for you being on top.

he just lives for that shit, being submissive and guiding your hips as you take complete control.

sex with him would be difficult, because mafalda would always check the sheets and or his night underwear, and you know that elio needs to be careful. however, he's absolutely good and skilled at letting you enter his room late at night.

at the same time, during sex, he would worry often about noises and bed cracks.

in fact, he's totally whiney and whimpery, you have to kiss him to swallow his drawn out moans and don't let him lose control.

as written before, elio is obsessed with just going dumb, he wants you to control him, make decisions for him and use him whenever you want. he's definitely into being your pet, just being a complete boy toy for your use.

you don't always understand the difference whenever he wants you to take the lead or brutally use him, but again, it's clear that he wishes for both.

he loves receiving head, and thinks you're magic the way you work his length when he literally begs for it.

would cry often during sex just from the sheer overwhelming pleasure, always begging you to hold him through the tears.

he's absolutely insecure and would overthink the aftermath for entire weeks, shyly asking you if you enjoyed it, or if he had hurt you or if you still love him. his head goes completely dumb at your every touch, but he constantly needs you to confirm that that's what you want as well.

after the first night, he would suffer every instant he doesn't get to enjoy with you, so he would furtively touch himself or steal your swimming costume.

&. PAUL

deep down, paul is a lover boy.

he had been having visions about you for ages and he would just wait for you to get pregnant in his visions and wish for it to happen as soon as possible.

at the same time, paul isn't a very sexual person, but he enjoys pleasing you whenever you ask him.

during sex, he would always go slow and hold you the whole way through, being as gentle as he can be even when you ask him to move faster. he would eventually lose it as soon as you arch your back, moaning at the friction between your hips.

he often has fantasies about using the voice on you, but he would be way too nervous to tell you about it. in his head, using the voice over you is absolutely arousing.

you soon discovered paul had many kinks, for example calling you mommy (even lee would do that, of course.)

you absolutely adore when he moans, because you can always find a little hint of shame and insecurity, but as soon as you take the lead just to reassure him, his guttural sounds make his whole body throb on top of you.

he would be absolutely careful and use protections, always, except when his visions are too frequent and he would literally kill to get you pregnant, turn you into a mommy and have babies.

you surprisingly discovered that he is down for your cuts or wounds. he often offers to train with you, even if he knows you're so much more experienced than him, but he would just love to lick your fresh blood or your healing wound to feel his tongue fizz.

paul is obsessed when you pull your hair, begging you to make you cum with absolutely no shame.

&. WILLY

sex with willy can be a literal rollercoaster.

he can become extremely needy during sex, and with needy...i mean needy. almost in a very childish way, if we consider that he's impressively incompetent and inexperienced in that field.

once he's inside you, he is shy about it, asking if it's okay if he kisses you deeper or grabs your waist or simple gestures. he always needs to have your permission.

he slowly gains confidence the longer you two are together and the more you are imitate. he would pull you away and just whisper how much he wants you. sometimes, even dirty things, but you never understood if he had a special chocolate to let him gather enough confidence for that.

he can be extremely perv and dirty minded, but he'll never admit it.

he's obsessed with leaving hickeys on you.

he would occasionally start meowing and doing his :] face when you mess with his curls.

if you pull his air while you're on top, taking his cock the best way you can, there will be no return, seriously. he would fuck you all night, and i'm not joking.

willy's got stamina, he really does.

loves to be submissive, there's no need to say it.

just like elio, he would be deadly aroused when you use him like a pet, sometimes he would beg for you to blindfold him or tie his wrists.

in these cases, his wet tongue would do all the work.

loves to smell the sheets after you two had done it, he just loves that smell.

his moans are the sexiest thing ever, but he's more frequent to make small sounds and groans.

when he's on top, willy would use sweet nicknames, tongue twisters or rhymes to sweeten you even more.

if your body hurts he would massage it carefully and give you a special chocolate treat to regain energy.

right after sex, he would be scared to death that you could get pregnant. have mercy, he just doesn't know how it works.

willy is the fastest learner, though.

given that he doesn't know how to start, he willingly accepts all your advice, and knows how to follow them to the letter.

once you give even the smallest instruction, he would just be more and more needy.

[matrixbearer2024]

Cruel

[Mr Bill Pines AU: Bill Cipher-Pines x Clifford(Stanford Reincarnation)]

Bill misses his husband and he can’t decide at the moment if this was Karma or just another mistake he’d walked into. Fate could be very kind, but it could also be a very cruel thing.

Inspired by a comic from @honeqq and I decided why not write something related to it! I need to write more stuff for them PLEASE-

Bill had to steel himself once more at the familiar chime summoning him again. He already knew who it was and had a few theories about the reason behind it. The real problem was that he didn’t know if he could take it anymore; each moment felt like a deep cut, with wounds left to fester as his heart battled his mind, tearing apart any semblance of sanity.

He had to mentally prepare himself for every encounter with the lookalike of his deceased husband, the imitation of a man to whom he had once given everything. Just being there was painful—the same voice, the same face, the similar mutation…

But he wasn’t the same man.

Taking a deep breath, Bill stepped in front of the impatient artist, who regarded him with mild annoyance. The artist was blissfully unaware of the constant struggle the god faced just to maintain a decent appearance. For some reason, Bill didn’t dare to explain this to him; it made it easier… sort of.

“Oh, finally. I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show.”

Bill mused that someone must be pulling a sadistic prank, repeatedly putting him in this situation where every waking moment threatened to unleash the flood of emotions and grief once more. This man wasn’t the genius he had once loved. This guy wasn’t Sixer, no matter how similar they looked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’d call you ‘lucky’ number seven, but you’ve just been annoying. Of all the cosmic beings to seek guidance from, you’d think you’d pick one that hasn’t faded into obscurity.”

“You were the muse for this journal’s author, so I thought you’d be able to help me in some way, somehow. I think.”

At the mention of the journal, Bill wanted to shrivel up and die. It was the only one he hadn’t had a hand in writing. The others he had co-authored with his husband, but this one… this one had eluded him for so long, only to be found by… this guy.

He wanted to bash his skull in and scream.

Stanford was gone; that pill had been hard enough to swallow a thousand years ago. Fate just had to rub salt into that open wound. This whole situation was cruel.

“What’s the problem this time?”

“I can’t decide what I want to paint.”

The empty canvas the other man gestured to seemed to beckon him, the stark white void drawing him in and holding him in a vice grip. The triangle stared blankly at the vacant space; an idea flickered to life in his mind, but he hesitated to indulge it. What if he did? It would only unleash another wave of grief, a haunting reminder of what once was and what he had lost to the relentless claws of time and the cold hands of death.

Bill already knew this was going to be idiotic. He felt it in his bones—he was about to make yet another stupidly ridiculous choice. Yet, before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out. Regret settled in immediately after he spoke.

“How about this? What if you painted someone for me? A portrait.”

The reincarnation regarded him with curiosity and interest, and Bill felt an overwhelming urge to gouge out his lone eye at the sight. Don’t look at him like that. Don’t give him the same expression that once held so much love and adoration, the kind that had nearly drowned him. Don’t remind him of those memories. Don’t drive the knife in deeper.

“Sure, I don’t see why not.”

That was the amusement that haunted him: the ghost of a man he had once loved to his own detriment. Someone whose smile caused the edges of his eyes to crinkle with unbridled joy, someone whose gaze never wavered in love and adoration. It was a ticking time bomb to have chosen and loved a mortal; inevitable goodbyes lurked around every corner of his finite life. There was no telling how much time they had left together, yet Bill still felt like Stanford was taken from him far too soon.

What he would have given for just a little more time—one last kiss, one final “I love you.”

He was a god, yet he would have surrendered absolutely everything for just another moment with the man he once called a husband. His equal. His muse.

Bill had to turn away from the other man, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. He quickly blinked them back; after a thousand years, the grief was still overwhelming. It felt like just yesterday he had been in the arms of his lover, and now that love and comfort were nowhere to be found. The ache in his heart throbbed and pounded, emotions turning him soft. What a useless god he’d become. What was once a pleasant feeling had morphed into crippling sorrow.

“If you don’t mind me asking, though… who is it that you want me to paint?”

That was a loaded question, burdened by the lament and grief of a thousand years—a love lost to the hands of time and the embrace of death. The one plane of existence where Bill couldn’t follow. Not as he was. Not when he didn’t have the ability to die. The sickness of an immortal, truly.

“Someone important to me. My muse.”

“You have a muse? Wow. They must be someone incredible.”

Bill could only let out an empty laugh. Stanford was incredible—more than he could ever dare to articulate. Words simply wouldn’t do the man justice; to have a god fall to his knees out of love was an immeasurable feat. The triangle always believed his lover was a force to be reckoned with, a powerhouse and then some. Yet, the relentless sands of time eventually wore him down. Even Stanford's brilliant mind, which had endured so much, couldn’t escape the inevitable; the grim reaper came to collect his dues.

No mortal was spared from that fate.

“Yeah. He was .”

The pain that bled through the triangle’s voice didn’t go unnoticed by the artist, despite his attempts to conceal it. However, the artist chose not to mention it, believing it was best not to pry. After all, it wasn’t his place to interfere; why would he?

Bill cleared his throat and floated up to get a better look at the empty canvas. Every instruction was clear and concise, every requested stroke of the brush executed with intention and purpose. The triangle’s close guidance and precise descriptions of each detail left no room for error; there were simply no mistakes.

As the painting began to take shape, colors and pigments blended seamlessly, crafting an image clearer than crystal. Gradually, the likeness of a man emerged—one with silver hair and a gentle gaze, complemented by a smile that reached his eyes, eyes that radiated immense love and adoration. It was evident that the painting captured an intensely intimate moment; such an expression was not meant for just anyone. Only someone so deeply loved and cherished could inspire a face like that. Only someone who felt eternally young could carry the weight of age with the wonder and joy of a child. The painting became a living juxtaposition.

The artist dropped his paintbrush in surprise; the painting looked so… alive. Under Bill’s guidance, this project had transformed into one of his best works. He couldn't help but wonder if its resemblance to a self-portrait was purely coincidental—an unnerving mirror he had created hour after hour, stroke after stroke, with immense specificity from the triangle beside him. However, the longing gaze from Bill toward the smiling subject made things clear. That action alone spoke more truth than any words they had ever exchanged. Yet, despite the painstaking effort poured into this piece, his eyes were inevitably drawn back to the final product.

It felt… familiar somehow, as if he knew this man, perhaps having met him somewhere before, despite the artist's certainty that he never had.

What was this sense of déjà vu?

The painting was beautifully crafted, distinctly unreplicable, particularly within the eyes of this man, which overflowed with mirth and fondness that clearly belonged to a lover. The expression he wore embodied the true essence of being loved, the purest depiction of happiness.

How had Bill even known about this? Not to mention in such explicit detail…

“Bill—”

“You have your painting, I need some time to think.”

The triangle’s voice trembled with overwhelming emotion, cracking under the weight of his grief. He couldn’t bear to look at the painting any longer. He turned away, unable to face either the finished work or the living, breathing human who looked so painfully similar to the man immortalised in the portrait. Every glance at the painting drove the knife in his chest deeper.

He had been right—this was a stupid idea.

“Just summon me again when you need me,” 

Bill muttered, his voice barely holding together. And with that, the god vanished before the artist could even respond.

Back in his original resting place, hot tears spilled from his lone eye as the grief he’d kept buried for so long finally poured out. The triangle broke down into uncontrollable sobs, curling up against a nearby wall, shivering as anguish consumed him. An agonised scream tore from his chest, shaking the very room. It was a miracle he had managed to stay composed for as long as he had.

Maybe he had wanted to see Stanford again—wanted to remember a happier time, to recall a memory frozen in place. The face of his husband, the man he had loved so deeply. But that love was now buried beneath a thousand years of pain and loss, an ache that had festered beyond measure.

Bill Cipher couldn’t move. He stayed there, weeping through the day, letting the weight of eternity crush him.

If he was truly fated to cross paths with that reincarnation, there was only one truth left.

Fate was just so cruel.

Fic is here as well on Ao3!

[throwaway-yandere]

"If the pedestal is beautiful, then the statue must be even more beautiful." (Yandere!Zhongli/reader)

a/n: I do not regret this one bit. while i do feel bad abt yaoyao's suffering, at least i wrote something unhinged again + it aint a zhongli fic without me referencing proverbs lMAO--

unreliable synopsis: “(Y/n) must be a really important person if Rex Lapis made them a statue, right?”

Yaoyao found a realistic statue inside Mt. Hulao.

As she was exploring the area with Qiqi to find herbs, Yaoyao discovered a secret domain that was only accessible to children her size and smaller creatures like Yuegui. It was horribly muddy and extremely narrow. She wouldn't go there on purpose if she hadn't fallen inside after exhausting herself trying to climb a hill just for a stem of violetgrass.

She anticipated a dense mixture of dust and fog inside the cave, with layers of spiderweb adornments, but it was unexpectedly unscathed with the typical filth that embellishes a place over time. The table was piled high with multiple apparatuses that she was unable to identify, but its aesthetics screamed that it was an adeptus' prideful handiwork. Despite not being refused entry as most adeptal abode should do, she came to an unspoken conclusion that this must have been an adeptus' place, and her curiosity grew by the minute when she noticed a life-sized statue sitting in the middle of it all.

Yaoyao was unable to take her eyes off it as a halo of soft yet lurid orange light enveloped it. The statue wore a brown hanfu that was encrusted with citrine jewels fashioned into dragons and the Geo element's symbol. Their clothes looked ruffled on areas near the waist and thighs as though it was frequently hugged and touched around those parts. But what Yaoyao couldn’t forget the most was their black earring with a white tassel that hung on their right ear. She can't recall who she saw wearing that earring when she first saw it, but she had certainly seen it before.

Admittedly, the statue was nearly perfect if it weren’t for the fracture the child had caused upon bumping into it. Yaoyao would have mistaken it for a real person and apologized if it weren't for the diaphanous and stony texture it possessed.

Still, the farrago between real and fake stirred around the lost child’s head as if it was a major dilemma. She swears she had seen that earring somewhere and that chipping its pointer finger off the statue was an inexcusable and grave mistake. Was this statue designed after someone in history or a character from those fictional tales Master loved to talk about? Yaoyao couldn’t decide which is a likelier story, but she certainly didn’t want it to be the former.

In addition, what made it eerier was the anticipation of calamity on their face. It’s a look not at all visible. The majority would undoubtedly dismiss Yaoyao's perspective and assert that the monument exuded a stoic aura. But if such were the case, why does she see the look of a rabbit about to flee in their eyes? The statue’s face exhibited a great firmness that declared that it wasn't as it appeared on the outside.

The statue looked like it was fearing for Yaoyao’s life after what she had done.

To avoid amplifying her trepidation, the young girl focused her attention elsewhere. Near the statue laid a red baize-covered table full of tapestries and books Yaoyao could only reach by tip-toeing and underneath it was stacked with clothes, herbs, vulneraries, and letters without indications of the sender or addressee’s name. If so many offerings were being made, then someone really cared about whoever this statue stood for. A commendable devotion considering how the last letter was only dated about two days ago.

Whoever this statue was and whoever maintained this shrine must’ve mortified a penchant for humorous literature and scientific breakthroughs. It would've been a strange combination if it weren’t for how everything was aesthetically arranged. It was obvious that the domain was kept immaculate out of love and adoration. Under the watchful gaze of this statue, philosophy and science had united into one entity, and Yaoyao was positively enthralled.

However, it was a seasonable night and due to the touch of Nyctophobia children inevitably have, Yaoyao couldn’t tell the murky difference between excitement and fear as she quickly stumbled out of the cave. 

When Yaoyao came back the following week after a busy lantern rite, the domain’s opening vanished. She brought Qiqi along and attempted to show her in quailing distress that asked for confirmation that should’ve been a hole in that wall— but Yaoyao was only met with the zombie’s catchphrase of: “I’m sorry. I forgot.” 

There was no reinvasion of the cave's darkness. Not a single hump was left to indicate that something was concealed behind it.

And that led to Yaoyao hunting a certain “illuminated bird” down.

——————

“Aunty! Aunty!”

“Must you grate One's ears with your incessant shouting, child?”

The bird continued to coast on its two legs while Yaoyao halted in her tracks, gasping for air. Although Yaoyao found it excruciating to attempt to keep up with the adeptus' quick treks in the mountains, it was obvious to any outside viewers that the crane was being merciful with her slow and tiny steps.

“P-Please stop aunty! I-I just want to ask a few questions!”

Cloud Retainer sighed and did as commanded.

After letting her describe the location and what she had seen inside it, Cloud Retainer nodded in the affirmation that what Yaoyao experienced truly happened. Yaoyao felt triumphant when the adeptus did not dismiss her babbling as some silly delusion, but she was unable to completely express it when she noticed a glimpse of sadness in her eyes.

“Of course it was real. One knows that location quite well, but One was never permitted to enter. That statue you spoke of would be none other than Rex Lapis’ depiction of (Y/n), the Wayward Pharmacist.”

(Y/n)?

Softly, the adeptus continued, “oh, (Y/n)… One remembers them rather fondly.”

Cloud Retainer did not raise her chin or adopt her customary condescending tone. Instead, her message matched her voice. Yaoyao was not the least bit confused by this sudden shift in demeanor.

They both know that name.

After all, (Y/n) (L/n) was Streetward Rambler’s first human disciple.

Yaoyao never inquires about (Y/n) with her master. All of Madame Ping's disciples were aware that they shouldn't broach the matter. Grief swarmed against Streetward Rambler so frequently that she bathed herself with distractions to wash away the acuteness of such regrets. She had done the most of what she could to relieve certain difficulties she had over the years, including mastering inventions and raising mortal children. While the majority of these were in her favor, the final diversion was less successful. 

How can it not be painful when Streetward Rambler always sees (Y/n)’s old cheerful and ambivert nature in Xiangling and Yaoyao's eyes?

This was a rare chance to learn more about (Y/n) than just the faceless figure that her Master frequently likens her to. Madame Ping only ever briefly narrated (Y/n)’s deeds. Yaoyao relied heavily on individuals around her for her adepti history knowledge because she wasn't book-learned enough. Hence, inflicting a sense of confidence that she did not fully possess, the child continued to inquire.

“What were they like, Aunty?”

“You must understand how broad that question is.”

“Oh, r-right. Sorry!” Yaoyao sheepishly laughed. “I wanted to ask what was their personality like. Did they have friends? Or, well, what did they do?”

“(Y/n) was…” Cloud Retainer chuckled. Yaoyao couldn’t see a smile, but she heard it from her laughter. “—an obnoxious human.”

“E-Eh?!…” Yaoyao trembled. “S-Should I be worried that Master always compares me to (Y/n), aunty?”

“What nonsense— of course not. Take such compliment with high honor!” The bird towered her gaze above Yaoyao, clearly offended. Effectively, it seemed as if Yaoyao’s needless worries kindled afresh the snobbish Cloud Retainer everyone knew of. “There are only a few humans One regard as almost equals. Their obnoxiousness is what makes them wholly endearing and wholly human. If there was one true flaw One would nitpick out of all their traits, it would be their inherent obsession with longevity.”

Cloud Retainer shook her head. “Rex Lapis often debated with them over this, but (Y/n) was a stubborn mortal. Many occasions led to them being confined in a miniature domain that he keeps in his pockets. We did not agree with their dreams of becoming immortal. But other than that? (Y/n) was a humble loyalist.”

Yaoyao was inclined to believe that she was right because there were a few biological research sprinkled across the statue's domain. She had even read portions concerning Inazuman beliefs regarding stress and "ikegai" which might be related to a human's lifespan.

“Rex Lapis liked them despite arguing with him a lot?”

“Why, if you were there, you would see how adorable they were whenever they deluded themselves they could win a debate against an Archon,” the bird quipped humorously.

"Immortality had always been (Y/n)'s goal. One often told them to not be afraid of death or die worthlessly, but they never listened. They even tried to curse themselves to accomplish this, and astonishingly, they almost succeeded if it weren't for the Conquerer of Demons' unsleeping vigilance while acting on Rex Lapis' orders. The Archon always has an affectionate expression on his face when they pout over his interferences. One would have jokingly said that her friend is in love with a mortal if One didn't know any better."

“Wow…” Yaoyao covered her mouth with her tiny hands in awe. Neither of them seemed to realize that something was incredibly off about that ‘fun tidbit’. “(Y/n) must be smart if they constantly got Rex Lapis’ protection!”

“Indeed they were— were you doubting One’s abilities?! Had One not said they were close to One’s competency?”

“Ah, right.”

“They were an obnoxiously hard-working individual. Grinding their bones in hopes to grant impediments as a rival to Guizhong and I’s intellectual plays. (Y/n) lived a short life filled with effort and virtue, it is to no one’s surprise that Rex Lapis had conceived a great liking towards them,” she mused.

“Rex Lapis nearly caved and made them immortal at one point. However, he changed his mind after finding out (Y/n) had a human lover…” Cloud Retainer closed her eyes. “Perhaps that was an act of mercy. An Archon’s goodwill so that they wouldn’t have to suffer the fate of grieving for their beloved for all eternity.”

If only she knew the truth.

“They must be really important if they got a statue,” Yaoyao tilted her head, emanating a soft chime from her bell accessory. “Master only said that they were very kind and that they had a lover with green hair, and—”

“And?”

The adeptus was interested to learn what her old acquaintance talked about (Y/n). Did the grandmother compliment them on how cute they were? How, in essence, they were one of her greatest sources of delight and pride? Before Streetward Rambler took up the name “Madame Ping”, these were the typical musings she had over tea with both her and Guizhong. In a sense, Cloud Retainer merely pressed the question because she missed these times—

“And that they had a nice big family around Qingce Village! Two sons, one daughter!”

Cloud Retainer made a choking sound.

Impossible.

“Family?! Goodness gracious, it seemed Streetward Rambler has turned into quite a fabulist over time,” Cloud Retainer shook her head. “No, (Y/n) (L/n) unfortunately did not produce such a legacy.”

Legacy?

“I’m so sorry, I don’t get it, aunty. What do you mean?”

“They did not leave a child for me— for us to look after.”

Cloud Retainer cringed at her uncontrollably bitter tone. There was a point in her life where she cursed (Y/n) for this. Death was not something they can control— yes— but she used to be an ignorant fool who did not respect (Y/n)’s decision to never have children. Perhaps, in a way, this was because she wanted to see a new generation of like-minded people like them, but she will never forget the uneasy looks they gave her whenever she launched into one of her rants.

They may have been Streetward’s disciple but to Cloud? She was like their true mother. Much like most mothers of the old generation, she selfishly wished they left behind even a non-blood related grandchild for her to rear after (Y/n)’s name.

“They… have gone missing. They did not die with a family of their own— we did not even find their corpse. One does not know why Streetward Rambler would tell you that.”

“Oh… I’m so sorry. I didn’t know... It must’ve been a sad loss for the adepti and everyone else.”

Cloud Retainer only looked away.

“There was no pecuniary loss for us when it had happened, sure,” she said. “But yes, it was indeed a sad time for the adepti to lose both Guizhong and (Y/n) at the same time. There could’ve been a new province of knowledge and ventures— these virtues of arts were never grasped because death had stolen their privilege of penning down their strange yet wonderful conjectures.”

“Time and time again, they had failed to accentuate any alterations in their mortal structure,” she continued. “While others sought out their writings regarding their enlightened art pieces, few looked for their progress on human mortality. One only remembers a singular human who came to find (Y/n)’s transcendental medicines. One believes his name was Baizhu. If One’s explanations were inadequate, perhaps you must seek him instead.”

Yaoyao perked up. Well, that’s lucky. She was just about to head to Bubu Pharmacy to look for the pharmacist later.

“Ah, there you are, Yaoyao!!!”

Out of the blue, Ganyu and a face unfamiliar to the adeptus disrupted the scene. This human had indigo braids wrapped up in a tight bow for hair and amber eyes. Had it not been for Ganyu and a cute little bear clumsily climbing the stairs behind her, Cloud would’ve left immediately.

“Marchosius, it has been a long time...”

“♪~?”

“Woah… Is that Cloud Retainer, Ganyu?” The unfamiliar human gawked.

“That is that. One will no longer entertain questions. One shall take their leave at once.” The adeptus did not waste another moment upon noticing Xiangling’s curious gaze. However, Cloud did give Marchosius a look of respect before taking flight.

The little girl frowned.

“Yaoyao?”

“Oh, sorry,” Yaoyao smiled forcefully. “I just remembered I didn’t get to ask her the most important question.”

“Hmm? What question were you going to get an adeptus’ advice for?” Ganyu placed a hand on her chest. “Perhaps I could help? I may not know all the answers, but I do have some connections.”

“I’m just curious…”

Yuguei jumped off the basket as Yaoyao hastily removed it from behind her. The smaller adepti treasure leaped over her head and peered attentively over as if to assist her in locating the object she was seeking. When she did grasp it, she did not do so carefully. Instead, she held it out like a young child showing off a crayon during show & tell.

Ganyu and Xiangling’s blood ran cold as the child presented them with a dismembered finger.

“Ganyu, do statues made by the adepti bleed?”

[shortie-stack]

I've seen a lot of posts comparing Bill and Ford (and for good reason, they are very much parallels and foils to each other) but I haven't seen as much exploring how Bill and Stan mirror each other. Where Bill saw Ford as a tool and maybe even sympathized with him because of their shared experiences (outcast by their peers for traits beyond their control, hungry for knowledge and prestige, isolated from friends and family), Bill sees Stan as the embodiment of everything Bill hates about himself. on the website, entering "Stanley" and clicking enter a bunch of times opens up pages from Bill's perspective about how stan defeated him. Bill maintains that Stan didn't actually beat him, that it was Ford's plan, that Stan just got lucky, but we know from the show that that simply isn't true-- it was Stan's plan and it was Stan that defeated him. It's interesting to note that bill is okay with giving Ford the credit for his demise, but Stan? unacceptable. we'll come back to that though.

To Bill, Stan is simultaneously everything he hates about himself and everything he wants to be. When listing all of Stan's faults, Bill calls him a "side character, a resume-inflating, cheap trick loving, past denying overgrown child protected by failure only by a forcefield of denial and shamelessness". who else do we know who ticks all of those boxes? Bill himself is a side character for much of gravity falls in the real world, but in the context of the show this statement shows his fear of not actually being anything special. sure he was powerful in his home dimension, but we see time and time again that there are other beings in other dimensions that are just as, if not more powerful (the axolotl, for instance). Bill takes credit for liberating his dimension when he really didn't, he "honors" his deals through loopholes and turns if phrase, and he shouldn't be throwing stones in a glass house, seeing as he's the one having a temper tantrum. Bill is also deeply disconnected from his past, if him telling us the story of the demise of his home dimension is anything to go by, and only digs himself in a deeper hole through putting on this cheerful, confident, powerful persona. Stan does the same thing, especially as Mr. Mystery. but the thing about Stan is that he grows and changes as the show goes on, while Bill's mindset is perpetual. They both were cut off from their family because of something they did (Stan messing with Ford's project, Bill by destroying his entire dimension), but Stan allows a new family to get close to him and chooses to make sacrifices to make his niece and nephew (and even his employees to some extent) happy. Bill on the other hand, surrounds himself with henchmaniacs, yes-men who just want to party and will follow him as long as he shows them a good time. Every depiction of Bill is a window for him to look through, and with so many in the mystery shack, it's certain that he sees Stanley, the embodiment of everything Bill hates about himself, getting what Bill thinks he could never have. and Bill hates it because it means that if Stan can grow and change and make peace with his past mistakes, it also means that Bill can too. But that would require Bill to actually be vulnerable and endure the pain that confronting your past (many, many) mistakes brings. He would have to acknowledge and accept that his home is gone because of him, that countless lives have been ruined because of him, and that the reason he has never been able to maintain close relationships is solely his fault. But he won't. And as a result, he will always end up alone, a king of ashes.

I think Bill thought of Ford as a way to fill his emptiness because of their similarities, and possibly also because he saw Ford as a form of redemption. Ford was brilliant and good and just like Bill and Bill saw that and may have thought, if he likes me there's no way I'm a monster. in a way, Bill saw Ford as the only one worthy of killing him because if it was Ford it was just a forgone conclusion: Ford hasn't made Bill's mistakes so he is automatically "better" than Bill and Stan, so obviously he could kill Bill. but to have it be Stan means that someone who has messed up in a manner similar to Bill has the capacity to be better. and that shakes Bill to the core.

[cutiepieloves131]

Sidereal Vedic Beauty Indicators Pt.3

~{🪻}~Vishakha: I have no words to describe how divine and picturesque these folks appear that have this placement. Vishaka's beauty is the type that will have you looking for hours or even have you fully captivated and nobody can change my mind about their heavenly and enthralling beauty! They look like porcelain dolls with a delicate effect on them! Vishaka is the "Cherubic Beauty", so these people facial features includes emphasized and broad mid-face, cheekbones which grow outwardly to a strong extent, large, and very defined cheek apples which are slightly low-set, foreheads that are generally medium to tall in height, with a more narrow and short jawline, eyes are most typically small to medium in size, and sometimes generally widely-spaced, and their gaze/natural expression can appear distant, detached, or cold, their noses are plump (wide in the bridge and tip), a horizontally-elongated cupid's bow, and small (often generally spacey) teeth.

Vishakha Women {Left to Right}: Dove Cameron, Cindy Kimberly, Jessica Lowndes

~{🪻}~Swati: Oh. My. Gosh! Ugh, I am so in love with people that have this nakshatra in their charts! Swati individuals beauty is so dazzling and jaw-dropping! Not only that but their eyes are so mesmerizing to many and myself appearing hypnotic due to Rahu's influence. Swati men and women definitely have me in choke hold, you just can't help but to fall in love with their otherworldly visuals! Also I've noticed that they look photogenic and glowing in photos but mostly attention is drawn to the eyes. Swati is known to be the "Bug Pretty", so their features contains protruding eyes with prominent eyelids and medium to close spacing, thin to medium, with a more de-emphasized upper lip, cheek bones that' are on the small side, but high and gently defined, with medium sized cheek apples, contrasting typically shorter, square (to rectangular) face shape, and sometimes with a prominent and pointed chin.

Swati Women {Left to Right}: Glow Princess, Lisa, Eva Marcille

~{🪻}~Ashwini: My oh my!~ Y'all these natives are so fine!~ Ashwini's beauty tends to be youthful and appealing! You'll always see an Ashwini person that never looks their age, or might mistake them for being a kid, teen, or in their early 20's! It's really amazing how they maintain their beauty even at old age, to me Ashwini folks strike me as the one to have their visuals praised by many online and in real life, especially in the Kpop industry. Ashwini represents the "Raven Pretty", their looks consist of full and large cheeks, which are rounded and prominent in the buccal area, face shape tends to be round or gently squared, full and soft fleshy lips that's very succulent, nose is also soft and widened, upturned, and with quite broad nostril wings and rounded nostrils, eyes are typically small to medium in size, almond-shaped, medium to wide-set, and neutral to upturned but have also light vibrant undertones having minimal eyelid spacing, brows that are long, and straight to lightly arched, and shiny hair in dark and ashy tones.

Ashwini Women {Left to Right}: Meika Woollard, Challan Trishann, India Eisley

~{🪻}~Ardra: I had to add another Rahu nakshatra in this post! Ardra beauty is incredibly splendiferous and fetching to me! I'm not joking like Ardra had to be on the list because they can't go unnoticed including their electrifying eyes that's a little protruding and medium to close-set, just like other Rahu nakshatras their eyes are a prominent feature on their face that can't be ignored. Their beauty is one of a kind and rare almost alien-like or dreamy to a lot of people! They tend to outwardly appear celestial in pictures, try brighter, sparkly, and bling filters on your phone, I promise you the results will turn out beautiful! Last not least Ardra natives beauty that's "Diamond Pretty", are made up of a pointy & pinched lower face resulting in a inverted triangle face or ovalish because of the ruling symbol which is the "tear drop", stronger mid-face area, emphasized cheekbones, long medium to large size nose and low-set like the yoni animal (female dog), and lips that are thin to medium.

Ardra Women {Left to Right}: Ariana Grande, Yodit Yemane, Kaya Scodelario

[amiaenn]

Habits

Harumasa × reader

Note:I was so deeply imbued with this character that I was inspired to pour out my thoughts here a little bit. (+I myself have problems with my lungs and heart, so I understand this bro as much as possible).I apologize in advance for my mistakes, this is my first experience in writing (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

genre/warnings: nope.It's just fluff, don't worry.

wc: ~800 words

Ever since you started dating Harumasa, it has seemed to you that your apartment is slowly turning into a medical office and new habits have appeared in your life. An abundance of various pills, ointments, saline solutions and many other things, the names of which you have not even heard of until recently, filled your shelves. Any pharmacy would envy such supplies of medicines.

And of course, your everyday life has changed too. No, of course you understood that it would change with the appearance of another person in your apartment, but you could not have imagined that Harumasa would bring new activities into your routine that you could not even think about until now.

First, maintaining order in the house. It cannot be said that you were completely dirty in this regard before, but sometimes you can put off sorting out some dusty shelf for later, right? Now forget about it. Asaba is the kind of person who starts a coughing fit from a single speck of dust, and you were sincerely sorry to see and hear him cough, and knowing about his lung problems, you immediately thought that now wet cleaning will be daily, no matter what it costs you, even despite Harumasa's eternal words that he is not a weak guy who can get sick from such household trifles (although his body's reaction says otherwise).

Secondly, now you have increased knowledge about various diseases (especially those related to the heart and lungs). How and what affects this, what is a state of remission and how to maintain it. Well, of course, in connection with this, you began to go with Harumasa to pharmacies to buy the necessary medications. And going out on such shopping, you remembered more and more the names of these pills. You can even confidently say that you remembered this entire list as long as the Great Wall of China.

Third, this is cooking. Yeah, for people who get sick easily, a special diet is needed. A balance of proteins, fats and carbohydrates. It is unlikely that a weak body will tolerate an abundance of chemicals in food, so you need to be more careful with this issue of cooking and selecting ingredients, so you will have to exclude all this harmful food, or at least limit its consumption to a minimum. To support Harumasa in this difficult matter, you decided to give up all the harmful food that you had previously consumed and switch to a healthy diet. One day, you impulsively got rid of all the snacks and bought vegetables and fruits, creating real chaos in the kitchen. Soup is boiling in one corner, vegetables are baking in another, while fruits are being cut on the table and, seeing this picture, Asaba only chuckled and said "Need help?" To which you nodded aggressively, and the guy already went to put on his apron.

Well, and the most interesting thing. A bitter taste began to be felt on your lips more often. You couldn't say that you were a doomed lover of bitter, on the contrary, you tried to avoid bitterness. Once you tried espresso and the fact that it was not a very pleasant experience is to say nothing. But with the appearance of Harumasa, you began to feel the taste of bitterness on your lips. And, you guessed it, all because of his kisses. It's no secret that Harumasa takes pills more often than food and this leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. But he stopped noticing it a long time ago, because years of taking medications give an addiction to this taste and it becomes unnoticeable. But you feel it fully, but to your surprise it felt.. nice? Yes, that's right. Strangely nice, for a lover of sweets like you. When you felt this taste for the first time, your eyes widened and the question "How can he calmly consume such bitter medications?" was spinning in your head. He noticed your surprise and involuntarily wondered what he did that caused such a reaction. Harumasa decided not to hesitate with the question and casually asked, "Something wrong, baby?"

You just awkwardly shrug your shoulders at this question, as if you don't understand what he's talking about, "No...no, everything's fine, don't get hung up on it."

After this incident, you began to get used to it, and after some time, the taste of bitterness began to be associated with something good and familiar. Something that brings a smile. Even more, now you wanted to feel it more often and you began to kiss Asaba at every opportunity that was given to you. He came from a successfully completed mission? What a good boy, he deserved a kiss. Are you making breakfast together? How cute, you can kiss him. Is he just relaxing? A great reason for a kiss! To be honest, it bordered on addiction, but for now it was on a fine line, because you skillfully control yourself and if you are told to tone down your ardor, you will do it without question.

And yes, why did you start liking espresso? It's strange...

[i-merani]

This might be all over the place but let's talk about Felix Catton in Saltburn.

While Felix's family is shown as almost comically removed from reality, he seems to be down to earth person and i think that his kindness is really genuine. I believe that Felix is a good guy, he knows he is privileged and he tries to help others. I don't think he does this to boost his ego and i don't think he's trying to be patronizing in any way. He's just kind and when he sees someone in need, he wants to do whatever he can to help. But he not only wants to help people, he expects people to want to be helped. When he befriends Oliver he does this out of pity, he could never imagine Oliver as cunning and that's the thing. He helps those he thinks are helpless, those who cannot be dangerous. And he makes the mistake of thinking that there's no way someone like Oliver could be dangerous. And the reason why he thinks so goes back to his upbringing, he cannot see regular people as "real people". While he does everything in good faith, the truth is that these very real people are easily replaceable to him. He needs people needing him, he needs to be the knight in shining armor. The moment he's not seen as a savior, he gets bored because to him, as genuine as he might be, being kind to people like Oliver is a game. He does it because he can, because he has the power and it is very important for him to maintain this power.

When Felix finds out that Oliver has lied to him, that he was just playing Felix's game, he gets angry. And while some of it is really just being upset that Oliver lied to him to such extent, I think he's more angry (albeit subconsciously) because he realized he was not in control in this relationship and that he never had power over Oliver. When Oliver breaks down in the labyrinth telling Felix how he loves him, Felix immediately tries to take back control and power in their relationship because he still cannot see Oliver as dangerous. He still fails to see Oliver as a 'real person' and obviously Oliver uses this to his advantage.

Felix is a very nuanced character. While at surface he seems like 'the good millionaire' (which is already bit ironic), ultimately the film tells us through Felix that the gap between the poor and the rich is so big that no amount of personal goodness will make these ultra rich see others as 'real people'.

[knavesflames]

Biker!Arlecchino au🏍️

Omg so many people wanted biker!arle au so here we are! Vice president is of course @hulahoopsoupgroup who often provides me with brain rot I can turn into writing (thanks for the brain rot while I’m at work)

We were talking about biker!Arlecchino and her backstory (more to come hmm) and more specifically, how she’d be in an intimate setting. It led to, well, this. Enjoy:)

Word count: 1517

Content: cunnilingus (reader giving), Arlecchino.. bottoms?!

Nsft utc!

Most people think she’s exactly how she looks. Angry, unfeeling, downright terrifying. Once you know her, she’s anything but. Especially when she’s taken a liking to you, once you’ve earned her affection. I think, once you’ve earned her messily cut flowers (much to her own embarrassment), there’s no question on whether you’ve earned it or not. Once she’s decided she likes you enough to be around you, she’s loyal. More than, even. She’d follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked her to, and she’d do it without a question. (She’d grumble, obviously, she has to maintain her intimidating demeanour).

In reality, she’s softer. Don’t mistake it, there are walls covered with barbed wire and signs telling you to leave her alone. You could probably hear a dog snarling in a warning, if those walls were visible. Once you get past these walls, however, she’s nothing if not a woman craving real love.

Perhaps that’s why she’s become so infatuated with you, someone who can make her cheeks heat with only a glance, someone who, when she’s ‘sleeping’, will stroke the silky locks of her hair as you try to soothe your own mind to sleep. You know there’s a reason she’s so closed off, you know she won’t say a word if you ask, so you don’t. She’s comfortable with you, though, so you let her open up at her own pace, which, granted, is.. agonisingly slow. Arlecchino does not allow herself to be vulnerable. Even during intimacy she refuses to let herself go. Arlecchino is on guard at all times, any second she’s conscious. She’s on guard even when she’s falling into the throes of slumber. Only when sleep overtakes her completely does her body relax.

Which is why tonight seems to be so special for the both of you. Instead of the usual, her on top of you, calmly asking directing you to the position she’d like you to be in (with a weird clear of her throat every so often to hide the way her breath catches when she sees you), you are, in fact, the one taking off her clothes tonight. In a moment of weakness vulnerability, she has allowed you to move forward with your gentle advances.

Although reluctant, she lets you shrug off the shirt she always has on and allows your fingers to dance gingerly over the many tattoos she’s acquired. From this distance, you’re able to see the age of the ink, the quality of it, too. You can see the way the lines have gone from shaky and hesitant to sharp and refined. You don’t tell her, but you’re also able to see which tattoo was her first, done by herself in her bathroom one night with a slightly shaky hand. All you know about that is that she promptly decided she was not giving herself another tattoo. In her own words, “why would I have anything less than the best on my skin?” You’ll learn the story behind them one day, you decide.

A low hum comes from her throat when your nails seem to gently scratch at the skin, and she speaks, albeit with a slightly strained voice. “Careful. The ink might bleed. Feels… it feels nice, though.” Your own response is a chuckle, but you choose to continue what you were originally doing. The tattoos will get more love another time. Your lips meet her neck instead, grinning when you feel her shiver slightly as you press gentle kisses along her skin, from her jaw to her throat, her collarbone…

Whatever skin you can reach, you’re kissing, your thumbs stroking her skin as you lower yourself slowly. She isn’t even fully aware of what you’re doing, her head tilted up towards the ceiling, until she feels your hands on her stupid leather pants. When Arlecchino looks down, her eyes widen almost imperceptibly at the sight in front of her. She had not expected you to be on your knees, and she goes to stand up in a panic until she hears your voice. “Help me with these? I don’t know how you even get these on each morning.” The response is a huff that could almost be interpreted like a laugh. Almost. You can see the hesitation in her eyes, but she sees your soft smile and she eventually moves to help you with them. You look up at her when you hear her breathing stutter, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you murmur, asking if she’s alright. When she reassures in the same gruff voice she always has that she is, indeed, alright, you continue.

Your gentle assault of kisses move now from her stomach, to the sides of her hips, the tops of her thighs, her inner thighs, and then, you stop. Your eyes meet hers again when your breath fans against her skin, and she gives you the nod you need to continue. You don’t miss the way her lip is caught between her teeth, and you are very well aware of the fact this is the most vulnerable she’s been around you. Progress, you think, you only hope it lasts. When you do finally begin, and your next kiss is against the part of her that for Arlecchino, seems to be aching, you feel her thighs immediately tense. You can only assume the rest of her body has tensed too, but it is immensely impossible to miss the way her thighs are now sandwiching your head. Whether it’s to keep you there or to stop you, you aren’t entirely sure, but you decide to continue anyway. You trust her to tell you if she wanted to stop.

You start gently, your lips barely ghosting over the small bundle of the nerves, your tongue swirling carefully against it every so often, and you smile into her at the realisation her breath is speeding up, and she’s very quickly beginning to move with you. You clench your fist against the carpet in the attempt to muffle your own gasp, or whatever noise that’s threatening to escape your lips. At one point, when your lips wrap around her clit, you’ve clearly done the right thing, because you hear a strained whimper, and without warning, you feel her hands weaving into your hair. Your eyes meet hers when they flutter open, and along with the feel of her nails scratching against your scalp and her fingers carding through your hair, you see the way she’s looking at you.

For Arlecchino, you might as well have hung the stars in the sky, the very stars she admires each night. With her lips parted, her cheeks flushed (a common occurrence now she’s dating you, it seems), and the way her right eyebrow is raised ever so slightly, she stares down at you in a daze, and her words come out in some strange mix of a groan and a whimper.

“I’d burn the world for you,” Arlecchino murmurs, her hands tightening in your hair to bring you back to her core when you pull away to speak. The act both of you are involved in is gentle and full of love, something Arlecchino promised she’d never feel again. It’s that very thought that makes her move her hips in time with your mouth, chasing the high she never allows herself. Though, she keeps speaking, though the words are becoming more of a mumble.

“If loving you will take me to hell, I’m going to greet Satan with roses, I swear.” You feel the urge to tease her for how affectionate she gets, and you hold out as your mouth continues their ministrations, until you can’t hold out. “So affectionate when you’re being eaten out, hm?”

You are met with a sharper tug on your hair and a sharp puff of air that ends in a quiet whimper. Then another whimper, and another as the coil in Arlecchino’s stomach grows tighter. One more look at your eyes staring up at her and she shudders, her mouth falling open and her thighs trapping you even more as she rides your face through her climax.

She was quieter than you expected, though you wonder if it’s because she’s shy. When you rise from your position, your knees are a little red, nothing time won’t fix, but your main focus is on her. You end up crawling into her pillows, patting the space next to with a tilted head, a silent request for her to join you. She does, settling herself on your chest so she can listen to your heartbeat, so she doesn’t have to look at you straight after, too. A gentle press of your lips to the crown of her head and your hand in her tresses is all she needs before her body relaxes under the sheets. There are no words spoken, but there doesn’t need to be. Not right now. It’s not like she can speak right now either, not with her current state, which is, well.. the only sound in the room is the sound of your stifled giggles, and her soft snoring.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

hello howl! do you have any favorite hcs of killer that you or someone else created? do yap if there's a lot, my brain is deprived of killer🥺

Alright, this are mostly about Stage 2 because he’s on my mind. Feel free to add on with yalls own killer hcs.

1. That Killer has ADHD. Probably a stereotype born from fanon killer’s personality, but I like it if it’s done well. (Which i rarely see, but that has been changing recently!)

2. That killer is some degree of blind or in general has a hard time seeing. Makes me think his other senses would be a lot better than his sight—especially his vision worsens depending on what Stage he’s in.

3. That he and Chara did pinky wears and the pink swears were sacred—not capable of being broken or the other has the right to kill or torture the snitch however they want. (My HC.) (Alexa play secret)

4. That Chara gave Killer Asriel’s half of the heart locket/golden locket, the one that said “bffs forever.” Especially if Killer has come to associate it with control, and it’s the only way to gain control over a Killer who has been stuck in Stage 4.

5. That his SOUL is a record player of all his victims dying, fearful, hurt, painted, angry, hateful and frantic words. Or at least Killer thinks it is—as he constantly hears them in his head whenever he attempts to resist killing or hurting anyone in Stage 1, and the constant flood of internal degradation is overwhelming enough to trigger Stage 4. The last part seems be somewhat canon, but the record player isn’t.

6. Cannibal Killer, started by me, holds a little place in my heart.

7. Cathearted and Angelkin Killer. Love it. Angelkin was @justanidiotartist’s idea.

8. Princess Killer. As in there is a timeline where he and Chara overthrew Asgore’s rule and became the royals of the Underground for a time.

9. That a part of Killer’s conditioning and training was being taught royal etiquette by Chara. It was framed and hidden under the disguise of learning something new, and a game— a way to keep Killer entertained and avoid boredom, therefore keeping him stable while implementing further rules and structure—but of course it had its typical violence and the use of Resets was often if Killer ever made a mistake or forgot a single thing.

He was taught to hold himself and carry himself as “something more,” above the others in the Underground, but never above Chara and not as real as anyone else.

His spine is always straight, trying to maintain a composed demeanor even when leaning into his silly behavior and extroverted mask. He eats his food in a very specific practiced manner without conscious thought, using his hands and utensils in a specific way.

He only eats when the “Queen” (Chara, Nightmare) eats, and stops when they stop—regardless of if he’s finished or not. Sarcastic, overly exaggerated bowing and signs of deference towards Nightmare—“Your Majesty,” “Your Highness,” in a deadpan, sarcastic manner.

And this one’s a bit more canon, but he copies and mimics Chara’s ways of speaking in a formal manner— such as how he says “greetings” instead of “hello” or “hey.” Often more obvious when addressing those he views higher and above him, or when stressed.

Maintaining old habits of perfectionism and cleanliness despite appearing outwardly apathetic, as if he doesn’t really know why he does it, he just does. His spaces are to be ordered and clean, all gear and weapons done in a certain way, and it’s probably more than once he’s corrected the others gang members postures and manners of eating or speaking.

One thing Chara never managed to make him stop doing was putting his hands on the table. He did that then and he’ll keep doing it. (Somewhat canon. Bro always has his hands on the table.)

10. Killer has the same fascination with the number 9 that Chara does. My HC.

11. Killer with schizoid personality tendencies. My HC. (Bit more complicated than that.)

12. Killer is subconsciously drawn to heart imagery—especially upside down hearts. He will often absentmindedly trace them on his bones/carve them, or draw on paper. It calms down his body. Especially after having failed some type of mission—both when killing or refusing to kill.

13. He stims. They’re small and not noticeable if you aren’t looking, easily dismissed as something else, but he stims. My HC. (I like to think his whole clasping hands over the soul/chest in prayer gesture is a happy stim and a nervous one. And also finger guns.)

14. He is a romantic. But only in his own head and fantasies.

15. Golden flower tea..yum.

16. He treats his weapons and animals better than he treats actual people or himself.

17. Stage 2 will blatantly ignore you if you try to call him Sans. (Somewhat canon.)

18. Stage 2 is mostly apathetic and indifferent but also distrustful of children. My Hc.

19. Chara and Killer’s relationship has been through just about any type of dynamic you can think of. Creator/creation, parent/child (both have played this role), teacher/mentee, enemies, friends, partners. Anything but equals.

20. He is actually very good at knife tricks. Will only fail when he wants to cut himself on purpose, or wants to make someone laugh.

21. Actually a pretty good caretaker, at least physically. Mentally and emotionally tending to a patient needs some work.

22. GNC fashionita.

23. Believes having no needs will make him invulnerable and free.

24. That a more humanized Killer would have long black hair he styles in many different ways. Also that he has a hooked nose and still doesn’t look entirely human.

25. The idea that he gives himself something like tattoos that remind him of Color in his Good Ending. Gradient flaming heart rainbows like Jinx’s blue cloud tattoos. My HC.

26. Catlike behaviors. Yeah. Including being very petty and causing problems for no obvious reasons.

27. Various forms or presentations of pet or age regression depending on the Stage.

28. Hates feeling too exposed physically. ✨ body issues ✨

29. Would’ve thrown the comfort plushie Color gave to him for when he’s Stage 1 away if it the plushie didn’t have an excellent texture. (Is the reasoning he gives.)

30. Acts of service. Just come to him instinctively. Very parentified eldest daughter coded I think.

[dadsbongos]

I love the way you write kabru, could you write some of the general headcanons for him?

super all over the place. i got maybe a bit too into the nsfw headcanons cuz i need to destroy him ~~~ general headcanons:

The type to imagine oc battle amvs in his head to their medieval music but pretends he’s just smoldering chill cool guy

Outside of general note-taking or journaling, I fully believe he’s had dreams of being a novelist as a kid

Probably avoids interacting one-on-one with Falin without Marcille or Laios as buffers because of her stubbornly remaining monster traits, as well as like… “hey girl you killed me!!”

But as time goes on n he gets used to her, he probably ends up just seeing her as a cutie pie like everyone else does

Would thrive coming up with criminal punishments, maybe not watching some of them because excessive gore icks him out but theorizing is always fun to him

Would similarly thrive in a court setting, and would jump at the opportunity to be the angel and devil on laios’ shoulders through the whole thing

I think he’s the type of man to bare a heavy conscious about things he considers immoral or rude, like having a hard time forgiving himself for mistakes or even just generally “bad” things in his past

Likes the idea of being a family man but gets scared shitless at the actual effort it would take to raise children and maintain a marriage

Would be a total reality TV junkie and anime lameoid in modern era - he loves the melodrama

if/when Mickbell ever gave him permission to refer to him by “mick” (or just any half-foots say he can call them by first name alone) he’d squeal and kick his feet for dayssss knowing what it means in a cultural context for half-foots

Tries not to be That Guy, but feels a little complimented when people tease at what a smooth talker he is. Loves getting to have his redditor “heh… just my natural charisma…” moment

Strikes me specifically as bisexual btw i dunno why but its just jumping at me

Not in love with Rin, but likes her? But doesn’t? But doesn’t NOT like her? He’s trying to maintain distance because sometimes he feels a spark, but then goes back to thinking of her as just a childhood friend. Feels very guilty and selfish if he thinks about her feelings for him for too long, especially since he’s kind of a known charmer. Earnestly hopes she moves on from him no matter the state of his feelings though

Nsfw headcanons:

Likes foreplay wayyyy more than sex because he gets off seeing how crazy he can drive his partners before they just start begging with zero shame

Would enjoy group sex or two-party affairs, his only iffy stance is being watched by someone else. Unless he knows the voyeur VERY well it just feels uncomfortable to be the one getting observed. Down to be the voyeur though hehe

Has a stupid lil whispy laugh he does when he’s getting teased im gonna get feral

Could never play a brat, you tell him shut up and he salutes you with sweaty hands

Could do hate sex! If he realllllllly doesn’t fuck with your vibe, but he’d have to know you personally. Hate sex feels weirdly more intimate to him because he has to expose real feelings he has, so in a way his ass doesn’t even hate you he’s just annoyed you keep bickering with him

If he’s supposed to be submissive, I think he’d like to get a couple light slaps. Maybe choke him a wee bit.

Can’t take humiliation unless its in a sandwich where the degradation is hidden between 2+ praises

Idk if its because its me or if this is real, but I can see him blurting out a “mommy” if he’s super delirious with pleasure

Circling back to the voyeur thing, I think his other hardcore no is somnophilia. Either way, he just can’t get into it. But he’s not the type to shame people for their goons