#but i feel like that's a bad idea so if anyone agrees feel free to yell at me

[ivyblossom]

Lessons in Story: Artificial Intelligence

Artificial intelligence is not an element of story, and yet here we are.

I'm aware that AI is bad for the environment. So's tumblr. That's all true. I'm also aware that AI scrapes copyrighted material like google does. I'm aware of how it steals art for its knowledge base without compensating artists and uses is as a model and replacement for skills. That's bad. I'm not going to address any of that here.

I have been observing how people talk about using AI in various parts of their writing process at the same time as I'm been trying to understand my own process and the obstacles I'm facing, and these two topics have oddly collided.

As I've said previously, my background is in some kind of woo woo where narrative comes out in one whole piece. So the fact that writing is many different and iterative pieces is something I had to figure out in my own bizarre way, but at the moment I now understand the basic process to be in these four general stages:

dreaming/planning (coming up with characters, ideas, goals, worlds, etc.)

outlining (not to say that this isn't many sub-stages, all of these steps are big catagories)

writing (actually putting words into sentences so your story exists)

Editing (revising, restructuring, polishing, etc.)

Are there more steps that I'm not accounting for? Those are the stages as I understand them. You can move back and forth through these stages throughout the process, so it's not necessarily linear, though it could be. For me, the key has been embracing the fact these are all radically different activities that require a completely different headspace, different skills, sometimes different tools, and a different perspective on narrative. That has been freeing revelation, because I was trying to do most of it at the same time.

But here's what else I've learned:

Dreaming/planning: this is a zero consistency space when it comes to how close or how far away you are from your protagonist. Are you feeling what they feel, or are you 30,000 feet up looking at the task they have in front of them and the path they're going to take? Or are you somewhere in between? Kind of all of the above at different points.

Outlining: in my experience, this can and should include emotional through lines, but outlining usually focuses on the 30,000 foot view. I have personally never written an outline that didn't miss critical details because of the 30,000 foot gap between me and the protagonist when I outline.

Writing: this seems like the very closest and most intimate you get with your story and your protagonist, right? This is where you live through it with them in extreme detail. There is no distance between you and them, you have to use a telescope to see 30,000 feet up. I find I have to revise my outline in small ways because I often underestimate or overestimate what something's going to feel like on the ground. This is like a micro-discovery phase: not plot discovery, emotional and intimate detail discovery.

Editing: I'm not an expert at this, but so far I feel like it goes back to being extremely inconsistent. It's either very close in a different way, or 30,000 feet up, or various in-between levels, depending on the type of editing or revision. And sometimes it's none of those, it's completely outside looking at how many times you use the word "feel" or whether your verbs and nouns agree.

Right. So people try to insert AI to do the graft for one or more of these stages.

AI in stage 1: I've seen some folks talk about using AI to get ideas for stories. I don't understand that, ideas are the easiest part of this process, as far as I can tell. Life's a rich pageant, maybe that's not universally true. Now, having AI to help you refine an idea, I can see that. Especially if you ask it to point out tropes and cliches as you go. Is that bad? Is that cheating? I dunno.

AI in stage 2: I've never seen anyone say they do this. If you have an amazing and complete story idea and you want to shaped into a 3 or 5 act structure, or a hero's journey, etc. I'm sure AI could do that, but that's mainly just typing. That's like AI as workbook. Is that cheating? I dunno. Does an AI generated outline help you? Or do you just skip the thinking that would have created the details of your story? Hard to say.

AI in stage 3: The wildest version of using AI in the creation of fiction, and there are whole subreddits for it. This is the people who are constructing novels scene by scene by telling AI to write it for them to their specifications and then "heavily editing" the result. So they are ostensibly doing stage 1, 2, and 4 themselves, and are outsourcing stage 3, the hard graft. Though I'd be very surprised if they aren't also using AI for stage 4, but let's assume they aren't.

Stage 3 is the only part of writing process that is protected by copyright, so it's a weird one to outsource. It's also the stage, in my experience, where you do micro-discovery, the in-the-moment scene details and the actual, living emotional experience of your story that you can't completely capture in outline. So if you just animate your outline without living through the story with your characters, it's always going to feel emotionally 30,000 feet in the air, I think. Right? If you feed AI an outline, that's what you'd get. i think doing this is just avoiding doing the most intimate and immediate discovery process of creating a story, and I don't think that serves the story or the writer (or "writer").

I'm intrigued that people think you can do this and it makes sense. You'd have to believe that the writing process is simply describing the contents of your outline, but I don't think that's true. It's like trying to get from the twelfth floor to the first floor by skipping the stairs, the elevator or the escalator and just leaping into the air assuming you'll land just fine because those intermediary systems are just time-wasters anyway.

I've read some arguments that using AI for stage 3 is something people with disabilities need to get their stories out into the world. As a neurodivergent person, I think that's short-sighted and is a disservice to those stories. I'm pretty sure it's just skipping the work of living through the emotional through line of the story and just not making all the little decisions and constructing the tiny details that go into the telling of a story. That's a heck of a missing staircase. Outlines aren't stories. Skipping the writing part means you're missing 2/3rds of the discovery, and therefore 2/3rds of the richness and depth of the story. How does that serve disabled voices? I don't buy it.

AI in stage 4: the one that looks innocuous but is actually dangerous. Dumping your work into AI and having it fix everything for you. This is a bad idea. Dump your work in there if you want to, but have it tell you what it's finding that needs adjustment so you can make decisions about it yourself. Copying and pasting out of an AI engine means you aren't making decisions about it, you're deferring decisions to a machine. That's the fastest way possible to erase your own voice. I can see getting it to flag things it has questions about, but taking AI advice on your writing is way too trusting.

I think this is especially dangerous for writers who don't have confidence in their own voice. AI's voice may seem like a better chose to them, and that's really sad.

I have more to say about AI, but this is more than enough for now.

[smile-files]

this might be a hot take... but if you care about disavowing media made by bad people out of fear of looking like a bad person yourself more than you care about actually doing good things... you might have your priorities (and your morals) screwed up a bit :/

(see my tags for more of my thoughts on this topic! please try to avoid making make bad-faith assumptions about what i mean!)

[unproduciblesmackdown]

"normal" meaning "unquestionable" & the embrace of that cropping up anywhere such as an aim to be on the unquestionable side of a Normal / Weird binary, thus surely being a comfortable effortless indelible version of Good that stems from "just be normal"

ppl out here like freud 2.0 where well they had the sufficiently normal Nuclear Household family(tm) experience so they're sufficiently normal for it, versus the weirdos who had the Questionable family times so as to end up with Issues, surely unlike all those who are Family Issue free, i.e. normal, no question. like how also Going To School is Normal, so of course there's that idea that anyone who didn't go to school normal style or did but Did That Wrong are the people made Weirder with Issues. & when what's Normal is what's Good is what's Unquestionable it's like why would i need to question it when it's so normal? why wouldn't some rando asshole nepo man be Meritous & Good at business when he's so Successful at it. speaks for itself, same as Your role of being treated entirely differently does, this can't be questioned, blame it on your own failures; again how the supposedly "questionable" experiences (unlike other ones, which need no Legitimate questioning) are pathologized like. people talking about disabled ppl's lacking "social skills" being this meaningful Driver of ableism just like poor people's lacking "financial literacy" being that darn cause of classism & resource extraction, the already Questioned vulnerable [you're just doing it wrong / failing] people are the cause of their own mistreatment, Normal people who are so socially & financially successful are helpless, this victim blaming (can't question it. Normal) sure totally doesn't speak to abuse being "normal" as well

which, good thing abuse totally isn't Normal i.e. in the territory of unquestionable things (with, obviously, the idea that Abuse (Real abuse, if you like) must be Exceptional in addition to, if not to Really be, "obviously" questionable) since if something can't be questioned then surely it's also How Things Were In The Beginning, Are Now, & Ever Shall Be (catholic prayer paraphasing re: god, for referential context) & there's just nothing to do but invest in & play into it For Success & resent / punish / try to eliminate disruption, like people just existing but doing it Weird, c'mon, be a better person please, obviously....meanwhile people out here approaching queerness in a way that accepts & acts according to the unquestionable normal of abuse of queerness, such that oh the "abnormality" of being queer (that is, "normal" people's abuse in the face of awareness of queerness) is unquestionable, such that Oh No, investment in that abuse now & forever world without end amen, & now punching down on the people who are just Being Weird & Disrupting this embrace of the norm: radfems invested in "all bodies will be classed as men & women & the former abuse the latter" & hate women who already disrupt this premise; pointing out ace exclusionism as terf logic just applied in the different context where queer vs nonqueer binary is neatly detected just as the gender binary is & people who already prove that & the way it's defined is not the case are the real problems, infiltrating Unquestionable (Normal) Queerness & delegitimizing it i.e. being The Cause of e.g. homophobic abuse, which will also unquestionably exist, so if we're gonna blame someone as Needing To Change it'll have to be uhhh already also affected Weird people who are ruining things, they're the Real causes of this abuse, so they're basically men, basically cis, basically straight. boooo to trans ace bi pan aro nonbinary gnc people....hardest to be binary gender "same sex" "romantic" "visible" Truly Queer couple currently holding hands in public or in front of family, & it's You Mfs who make it harder, not, yknow, the people who were already always embracing & perpetuating the abuse bolstering Normal(tm) Cishet Just Being Normal. and of course don't forget going after poly people & others disrupting / not accepting premises about Unquestionable Relationship Structures/Requirements. so not just being normal

also the beloved concept broken out that, of course, Being Normal = Being Good, b/c hello, unquestionable?? where it's like meaningless ideas that abuse is Abnormal like ":( hurt people hurt people" (inherently a framing to counter any response to [person is hurting me] that's not silent secret sympathy forever i guess. nobody's using this catchphrase to argue for Hey Quick let's all intervene to stop someone being hurt, lest they go on to hurt anyone themselves) like & yet everyone is hurt, yet not everyone is doing shit where these arguments are broken out after they're already getting away with nonsense & we're telling others to just stop complaining, while also not everyone isn't getting shit on for being "disruptive" & perchance the real hurtful problems for trying to Stop being shitted on, or just have a little more breathing room to day to day live while it happens. everyone's hurt bitch let's get you some "what's the actual patterns & context of supported power imbalance made emergently evident by whose choices & life are constrained & undermined & made smaller" like. or the expanded idea as that well all abuse comes from Being abused, i.e. the Cycle, never mind that abuse is everywhere as per its being Normal, & nobody's intervening every time it manifests despite its supposed exceptionality thus rareness & supposed indication that someone's Being abused to cause it. just gotta roll with it, wow. & pathologize being victim to it, abuser in the making, Vulnerable People are dangerous, those insulated & given more access to systemically backed power in an oh so Normal way are surely oh so Safe as well. the very rich families are all lovely havens. the abused people are treated so well & embraced & supported by all the more Normal people they encounter, certainly not Also isolated, bullied, victim blamed by these Normal friends family coworkers new partners randos in public randos who are "professionals"

but yknow uh literally just be normal lol. aaand post. and like "lol being Anti Being Normal? just like a weirdo" like yeah of course. and what, i'm gonna try to win the heart & mind of someone like "of course you have blue hair & pronouns" & convert them, as would definitely happen if only all transgenderists were Normal about it? and the perspective of "what Unquestionable Good is ever actually coming from striving to get to point at Others as Weird" involves going like "nooo i wanna see myself & be seen as Just Being Normal" instead of like having ideas / arguments about how to be considerate towards people which can be articulated in any other way & involve effort & said consideration (ft. anything able to be questioned)

[batking-lich]

"i'm not like those Other People, i only consume Unproblematic Media™ with Good Representation™ and i don't like Irredeemable Media™"

"i'm not like those Other People, i don't like this Sanitized Media™, i only like Real Art™ with Bad Messy Representation™"

you are literally the same people wearing different hats the only things you disagree about are what counts as bad media and what counts as good representation

[technologyvoid]

Uh

Anyone wanna yell at me to get up and get breakfast?

[melancholicscoundrel]

just read My Lesbian Experience With Loneliness. bawled my eyes out. never felt so seen. considering hiring myself an escort.

[daycourtofficial]

One single thread of gold tied me to you

Pairing: Eris x Rhysand's sister!reader | WC: 6.2k | Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, piv, foodplay (chocolate), oral (f and m receiving)

Summary: After a century of waiting, Eris and his mate finally have a few days to themselves to accept the mating bond.

Author's note: this is technically part of my gingerfucker series but it can be read as a standalone. Big thanks to @basketoffish for help with plotting the idea for it and for helping me edit ❤️ The people have been frothing and yearning for this and who am I deny such want any longer?

Eris never had good timing. Born too soon, bearing the brunt of his father’s cruelties. Born into a war he was too young to fight in, but too old to stay at home. 

All of his poor timing was worth it for this perfect opportunity. Beron would be away for three days and three nights to improve relations with Tarquin, the newest High Lord of the Summer Court. Beron went alone - he perceived it as much more intimidating to go alone (perhaps inspired by Tamlin’s appearance in the High Lord’s meeting a few years ago, winnowing in completely unaccompanied). Beron failed to recognize Tamlin’s appearance was much bolder - he knew he would face scrutiny, but still made an appearance without anyone at his side. Beron merely did it because he wanted to look more intimidating.

Nonetheless, Eris was able to send word to you with enough time for you to rearrange your royal appearances to carve out this time with him - an entire three day span, just the two of you. Three days felt like a lifetime when the two of you were only able to schedule hour-long secret meetings.

Once, in a desperate bid just to have your scent on him, you two had met for a total of twenty minutes.

Your rendezvous were often short, full of imminent risk and danger of being caught. Today felt like a blessing from the Mother, as if she were granting her star crossed lovers a vacation, a peek into what life could be like - what life will be like one day.

You two just had to be patient.

Even an entire court away, Beron would know someone from the Night Court was on his land. Perhaps not immediately, but he would know before your three days were over. So the two of you met in the Winter Court, in a cabin you were gifted a long, long time ago. A cabin you’ve gone to on occasion over the years, whenever you needed to get away and be alone. You had set the trap perfectly for your family - you were getting into petty squabbles the entire week, picking fights with Cassian and Mor left and right that left the two of them reeling with annoyance.

Your brother tired of it quite quickly, clocking it for what he thought it was. 

“Perhaps you should spend a weekend away, star.”

His tone was full of concern, for this was how you always were before retreating to your hidden cabin. Irritable, crabby, unable to have decent conversation with anyone without leading them into a spiral of anger.

“I’m fine,” you reply, intentionally clipping the words to make yourself seem in a much worse state than you were. “Besides, I have some scheduled meetings this weekend.”

Rhys nods, “Feyre has agreed to take over any duties you have that can’t be rescheduled.”

You perked up at that, feeling a little bad at the generosity of his mate. You hadn’t felt easy about this plan - preying upon your family to get what you wanted wasn’t a regular occurrence for you. 

But you refused to let any negative feelings about what you were doing get in the way of seeing your mate.

“Are you sure, Rhys?”

He waves a hand, “Go, please only return once you feel rested and headache-free. Cassian is quite adept at giving migraines.”

You smile, “so no one will bother me?”

He sighs at your continued questioning, “no, star. I think we’d be too afraid to bother you, except for Amren. And she’s in Summer for who knows how long.”

He stands up, crossing the room to you, his long legs practically gliding across the floor. He wraps you in his arms, squeezing you tightly before kissing you on the top of your head. He gently sways the two of you as you wrap your arms around him.

“Thanks, Rhys.”

He lays his head on top of your own, “just send word if you’ll be gone longer than a week. I just want to know you’re alive out there.”

This cabin was a frequent rendezvous point for the two of you, much cozier than the large clearings and forests you two otherwise frequent. The cabin was more ideal, however Eris couldn’t deny how incredible it felt to be inside of you as he leaned you up against various trees in the forest, the leaves crunching beneath his boots as he thrusted over and over into you.

His cock twitched at the thought as he walked towards the front door of the cabin. The door groaned slightly as he entered, marking his entrance. He felt the slight magical barrier ripple as he passed the threshold. He shut the door behind him, taking in the small, two bedroom cabin before him. 

The place was quaint and cozy, an insult he would use to describe Rhysand’s absurdly large and ornate homes, but for you it was a testament to how infectious the comfort you radiated was.

It permeated every surface - the walls, covered in various portraits and landscape paintings, along with shelves of books and trinkets.

His scent was stale from the last time he was here, but yours was fresh, as was the smell of some delicious meats and fresh breads. He closed his eyes and leaned his back against the door, catching a glimpse of you as you pittered about the kitchen. He crossed his arms over his chest, allowing himself a moment to think of what his life could be like if the two of you were ordinary fae. 

He would come home from whatever job he had, perhaps a scholar of some kind, leaving at the same time every day to come home to his mate. 

You two would clean your house together, bickering over your inability in any universe to put dirty socks in the hamper, and how in every universe feet would continue to make Eris shudder in disgust. In any other life, he would be thrilled to experience monotony with you.

But he’s not in another life, one of openness and free-flowing adoration, one free of constant plotting and scheming, earning favors wherever he can. He’s in this one - the reality where no one knows about the two of you, because once they do it will become an inter-court political nightmare. It is a life of stolen glances, hidden messages, and secret meetings under the moonlight, but it is a life that belongs to him, when for so long his life was not his own.

Eris would love you in all lives, your soul reaching to him in every iteration and reincarnation of the two of you. If the two of you were nothing but bacteria living on the same organism’s skin, he would find you. He would know it was you, no matter what shade of organism you wore.

The bond hums in your chest, tugging you to look towards the door where you know Eris is standing and watching. You continue the task at hand, not wanting anything to miss your notice. The bond deep inside of you grows more and more insistent, screaming at you to smell him, taste him, feel him, here, here, here. He’s here, in your house, and you need to look, look, look. 

You let Eris come to you, just as you always had, just as you always will. You’re slicing bread, placing the pieces in the bottom of the bowls when the smell of petrichor and caramel hits your nose, a warm presence at your back. 

“Good evening, my fox.” 

His face burrows into your neck at the nickname, melting into everything that was you. His arms wrapped around you, hands meeting yours. His fingers pull the knife from your grip, gently placing it down on the cutting board.

“What are you doing, my evening star?” His voice is purposefully low in your ear, causing goosebumps to trail down your neck, his hands warming your fingers. 

“I’ll give you three guesses.”

His soft chuckle warms your chest, the bond constricting around your heart at his amusement.

“Are you cooking?”

“Yes, Er.”

“I’m surprised your wraiths didn’t prepare anything for you.”

“They did,” you hum, turning in his arms, his amber eyes meeting yours, not quite certain of what they’re seeing.

His hands meet your hips, his touch warm on your skin, and you circle your arms around his neck, fingers raking through his hair at the root.

He hums at your touch, his face swooping down to kiss your forehead. 

You look up at him under your eyelashes, his nose and cheeks littered with freckles, mapping out where home was. You point your head in the direction of two large picnic baskets, one of which was opened for Eris to see various jars of jams and breads.

“Why would you-” his words fall short, his thoughts racing through his mind. They stream by in words and bits of phrases, but no completed thoughts make their way through the whirl and swirl of mate, food, and bond.

He short circuits, not quite grasping what you’re getting at.

“I have never gotten to cook for you,” you shrug nonchalantly.

His eye twitches, still not understanding.

“You’re cooking… for me?” His words come out slow and uncertain, as if the mere concept of someone choosing to do something like this was absolutely foreign to him. You nod slowly, not used to seeing Eris so incapable of understanding. 

“But if you-“

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll-“ 

“Yes.”

“Are you-“

“Yes.”

He stills, his thumb lightly brushing against your hip. Your eyes are open and bright, wanting to convey to him the certainty you felt. You lightly tug on the bond connecting the two of you and he rubs his chest at the feeling.

It’s quiet as the snow falls outside, unaware of the monumental decision you had decided on once Eris’s letter had arrived earlier in the week. You had spent the past few months researching traditional autumn foods, preparing for this day. You had known for quite a while you were going to accept the bond, you just didn’t know when the two of you would have the chance to spend more than a few fleeting hours together. You had sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Mother when you received Eris’s letter, soft prayers echoing through your mind each night ensuring this would all work. 

“Is everything ready?”

His eyes peer into yours, a vulnerability he rarely lets anyone see, even you. His words come out soft and slightly timid, as if he’s worried he’ll scare you off.

“Yes, we just have to bring the food to the table.”

“May I help?” He doesn’t move towards the food, but one of his hands twitches, moving imperceptibly closer to you.

“I would appreciate that.”

It’s quiet as you two move to the food, grabbing platters and bowls to bring to the table. Once the table is full, a three course meal laid out in front of the two of you, the reality set in a bit. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Eris, but you were slightly concerned you were forcing his hand with this. 

This was always ‘someday’, but now it was here and you didn’t know how he truly felt about it. That was until he grabbed your plate, placing the still warm pita in front of you. You placed a piece of pita on his own plate, and he looked at the baba ganoush before him, its texture so unlike anything he had seen in Autumn. “What do I do?”

You ripped a piece of your pita off, dipping it into the bowl, grabbing some of the baba ganoush on it before offering it to him. He inspects the piece, before doing the same with his own piece of pita, bringing the piece to your mouth. 

“Eat. This might be the last time we’re rational enough for food.”

The two of you bite down on the pita, the warmth of the bread with the chill of the baba ganoush, the smoky, rich flavor exploding in your mouths. The room immediately shifted with the scent of your mixed arousals, but the two of you ignored it. His fingers lingered on your mouth, swiping at your lips before ripping off another piece of pita.

Heat was coursing through your veins, Eris’s emotions thrumming through you at a higher intensity. He felt electric in your veins.

You continue feeding each other until the pita’s gone and your attention shifts to the bouillabaisse. In similar fashion, the two of you poured the soup into the bowls with the bread before setting them down. You were thrumming, every part of you screamed to be closer to him, your thoughts having a background loop of mate, mate, mate.

“How did you know about bouillabaisse?”

Eris’s words send heat through you - his voice, soft and low, the actual words not registering with your insatiable need for him.

“Beg your pardon?”

His smirk is feline as he knows exactly why you didn’t hear him, but he repeats his question with no teasing.

“I um, found it a few months ago - I was in Dawn and a little restaurant served it.”

You could feel the sweat on your brow as you watched Eris’s fingers bring another spoonful to his mouth. You thought about all the things he could do with those fingers, that mouth, that tongue-

“Nobody in Dawn serves this. It is a regional dish, more specifically it is only found on the seaside of Autumn.”

Busted. 

You take another bite of the soup, the flavors so different from Night Court cuisine, but you weren’t complaining. Several of the fish in the soup were only found along the coast of Autumn and Winter, some making it as far north as Dawn.

“I may have perused some Autumn Court restaurants when I was visiting once.”

Eris stretches out the fingers of his hand, moving his long fingers in torturous preparation before placing his hand on your thigh. His touch was so warm, you began pulling at the collar of your dress to let the heat escape, biting your lip to keep the moan from escaping.

“When were you allowed in Autumn?”

“Fine,” your voice came out sharp, the room much too hot for an interrogation, “I snuck into Autumn a few months ago trying to find something to make you for this. I tried a bouillabaisse at this incredible little restaurant and I paid them an exorbitant amount of gold to teach me how to make it and to not tell anyone I was there. I slipped back in yesterday to pick up the fish in this soup.”

His fingers dance about on your thigh, and you take a quick glance down at his pants, your body growing warmer at his cock pressing across his pants, desperate to be released. You can’t move your eyes away from it - knowing how it looked, how it felt in your mouth, how it tasted - you were about to start drooling before Eris’s hand came up and closed your jaw.

“Strip.”

Eris’s words were a demand, full of power and need.

“But we still have dess-“

Your words died on your tongue as Eris began unbuttoning his shirt, your eyes caught on his lean chest, littered with freckles. You were in need, too, practically salivating at your mate’s display of his body, and you can’t quite remember why you wanted him to finish the whole meal.

He huffs over to you, his hands grabbing the fabric of your dress, ripping it in half down the middle. You gasp as the cold air meets your skin, somehow making your nipples even harder.

You stare at him wide eyed, even more aroused than before. At this point, you knew your panties were doing very little to keep your arousal from coating your thighs.

“You took too long,” he snarls, undoing the ties of his pants.

You had begun pulling the remnants of your dress off your shoulder, but stopped to watch your mate hook his thumbs into his trousers and pull them down, letting his cock free. 

You move forward, ready to jump on Eris, but his hand on your chest stops you, eliciting a whine from you. His other hand grabs the molten chocolate cake you had made, slowly lifting it out of the ramekin. He holds it delicately in his hand, the other hand on your chest moving up to your hair, tugging gently on the strands to pull you towards him.

Your chests were touching, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. He blazed with heat, his cock hard with need pressed into your stomach. His cheeks are dusted with pink and his blood was boiling inside of him, but he moved ever so slowly, his fingers meeting your chin. He looked into your eyes, the two of you the only beings in the world right now.

“My mate.”

Anything could be happening outside of the walls of this cabin. The snow could have all melted, a heat wave sending the Winter Court into chaos, and you wouldn’t know. All you would know was Eris’s gaze on you, mapping out every inch of your body so he can remember every detail correctly when he thinks about this once you two are apart. His thumb applied pressure on your chin, opening your mouth. He placed the cake in your mouth, whispering, “don’t bite, not yet.”

You moved your hands to his hips, holding onto him. One of his hands moves to help hold the cake up, his other holding onto your neck. He puts the other end of the small cake into his mouth and lightly tugs on the bond. You both bite into it, the liquid chocolate center immediately cascading down and coating both of your chests. You both make quick work of finishing the remainder of the cake, tearing and gnawing at the soft dessert until you finish it off. He catches your lips in a kiss, the taste of the chocolate a luxury on his tongue.

You jump, feet slipping slightly on the bits of chocolate that made it to the floor. Eris’s arms catch underneath your thighs, wrapping your legs around his hips. He lays you down on the table, moving his lips from your mouth, down the column of your throat, down your chest. You’re pulsing with need, desperate to feel any friction from him. You thrust your hips up, desperate to meet any feeling of him against you. His arm moves across your hips, pushing you down against the table. He shakes his head as he keeps kissing down your stomach, lifting his arm for a ring of fire to take its place around your waist.

He skips over where you want him, instead moving his head down to your thigh, licking up towards your hips. His tongue was hot as it slid up your inner thigh, lapping up the chocolate that had dripped down it. Your breathing was ragged as you felt his hot tongue growing closer and closer to you, and it felt like it was getting warmer the further it moved up your thigh. 

You looked down at him, his amber eyes that were full of heat all you can see of his face as his tongue finally slips between your folds. You moan at the contact, throwing your head back and hitting it harshly against the table. The pain didn’t register, not as Eris - your mate - was moving his tongue as if he knew every part of you, as if he knew exactly how you felt as he would warm and cool his tongue at his leisure. He lifted his mouth just an inch, his words slightly muffled by your body.

“You taste of desperation. It’s delicious.”

You moan at his words, and he flicks your clit with his tongue. His hands warm on your thighs, pressing them further apart. He slips his tongue back through your folds, your hands gripping onto his hair to keep his mouth on you. He grabs your legs, hoisting them over his shoulders before one of his hands disappears. You are writhing on the table, his grip on you lighting your skin on fire. The room grows heavier with the scent of his arousal, and you twitch your ears at the new sound in the room.

He was moaning into your pussy, the vibrations coursing through your body as you realized the hand that left you was wrapped around his cock, pumping furiously. The thought of him being so aroused at eating you out that he has to touch himself sends you over the edge, your thighs clenching over his ears as you finish on his tongue. Your breathing was heavy, and Eris’s tongue did not let up, lapping like a starved male. You pulled him up by his hair, bringing your face to his. Your tongue swipes into his mouth, tasting a combination of yourself and chocolate on his mouth. You grab his shoulders, deepening the kiss as you flip him onto his back, pressing him onto the table. His hands grip onto your hips, trying to push you onto him, desperate for any touch from you. He whimpers as you tug his hair, pulling him into you.

You place teasing bites as you move down his torso, leaving mark after mark in a line towards his happy trail. You purposefully rub your breasts against his cock, smiling up at him as he groans, your breath hot on his crotch.

You lick from underneath his shaft, your tongue slowly moving from the base to the tip before putting his cock completely in your mouth. He tasted like cinnamon with a little salt, the chocolate flavor on your tongue making him taste incredible. His hands move, gripping onto your hair as he chants your name - a prayer, a plea, you weren’t sure. Your hands wrapped around the base of his cock and his hips thrusted trying to push himself deeper into your mouth. 

You wanted to tease him about needing to touch himself while his mouth was on you, but you felt the same compulsions as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock. You resist the urge to move your fingers to yourself by digging your nails into Eris’s thighs, leaving half moon indents. His grip grew tighter on your hair, pushing your head down harder as he got closer to finishing, his moans filling the cabin as he finished, the hot taste of cinnamon filling your mouth and coating your throat as you swallow it. You pull your mouth off of him, his cock twitching again at the look you give him as you lick your lips.

He growled and you swiped your tongue up his still hard cock. He lunged for you, jumping off the table before his teeth sink onto your nipple, pulling the skin with his teeth. You gasp, pinching his nipple back in response. 

“Do you think there’s something there about eating to accept the bond and what we just did?”

You waggle your brows at him, but his eyes are a bottomless pit of black. Gone are the amber hues of fallen leaves, replaced by an endless void of hunger. You lean up to kiss him, the taste of both of you swirling between your tongues. You start walking backward, knocking into one of the chairs. He catches you, one arm hooking around your waist. 

His pointer finger moves up from your belly button to your neck, swiping up the chocolate left behind. He puts his finger in your mouth, having you suck the chocolate off. 

“Maybe we should get cleaned up.”

You smiled around his finger, swirling your tongue around it as you looked up at him from under your lashes. You nodded, taking his whole finger into your mouth. He breathes in deeply through his nose, his eyes swirling with desire before you. His other arm loops around your waist, carrying you through the cabin. Your giggles echoed down the hallway as Eris moved the two of you into the bathroom. He doesn’t set you down, shifting instead to hold you up against the wall with one arm while he turns the shower on. 

The water started cascading down the both of you, sweeping the remnants of the chocolate down the drain. Your feet hit the floor as Eris pushes the two of you forward, your back hitting the wall. The water fell over your face, making it hard to see him, but you could feel everything about him. You felt his skin on yours, your chests pushed together. You felt his emotions thrumming inside of you, bouncing everywhere, filling every available space. You had heard of the bond being accepted as an all-consuming thing, but you found any previous descriptions to be wholly inadequate. Every inch of you burned for him, thrumming with need to be near, to have him with you, to have him inside of you. 

He grabs the bar of soap from the shower, lathering it onto a wet washcloth before rubbing it against your body, rubbing the chocolate from both yours and his skin. 

“I never thought accepting the bond would be so messy.”

Eris’s hand guided the wash cloth across your shoulders, your sternum, before taking his time as he rubbed it against your breasts. His thigh slid between your legs, separating them. Lean muscle pressed against your cunt as you sank onto his thigh. His lips were on your mouth as you ground onto his thigh. He tossed aside the washcloth, his hands gripped your hips, harshly moving you against his thigh. 

“My beautiful, beautiful mate.” 

His voice was husky, echoing through the shower, further cementing that feeling he was everywhere.

“Gonna fall apart on my thigh?”

His lips move down your neck, teeth sinking into skin.

“We have all weekend for me to put every part of me to good use.”

You threw your head back, hitting the wall softly. One of Eris’s hands moves behind your head, cushioning the blow. His grip is unforgiving as he continues moving you, his thigh rubbing your clit so perfectly. Eris looked so beautiful before you, his pale skin a soft shade of pink from the heat radiating off of him. 

His irises have shrunk enough for you to see a slither of the amber you love so much. You could feel him thrumming in your chest and you swore if you looked down, the room would be alight with the gold tie between you two. You gripped his shoulders as he pressed his thigh into harder, sending you over the edge. 

You’re reeling from the orgasm, but Eris’s grip doesn’t let up. He uses his other leg to spread your legs again, and his hands move down to your ass, picking you up before sliding his cock into you. It feels right when he’s inside of you, the pounding in your head subsiding, the heat dissipating for just a moment before it was replaced with the need for more, more, more.

Your head moves across the tiled wall as Eris thrusts into you. You grip his hair, pulling his face to you again before kissing his mouth, needing to feel him everywhere. You’re all teeth as you nip and bite across his neck, up his jaw, on his earlobes. The shower does little to hide the whimper he lets out. 

His fingers grab your face, pulling you from his ear to his mouth. He kisses you hard and passionately before pulling out of you and turning you around. Your hands press into the wall as his hands roam down the sides of your body, sending chills throughout you.

One of his hands ran through your hair, wrapping it around his hand, the other wrapping around your waist, holding your back to his chest. The water streamed down the two of you, but you hardly noticed as he kissed your neck, pushing you against the wall.

You moan, pushing your ass against his cock. He growls as one of his hands traces from your hip down to your upper inner thigh, gripping tightly.

He bit your shoulder blade, pushing deeper inside of you. The pressure inside of you kept building, the water streaming across your skin growing hotter. Your blood was boiling, you weren’t sure where you stopped and Eris began. His thrusts became harder and more erratic, his fingers gripping so tightly you were sure they’d bruise. 

Eirs held you in an iron grip as he came inside of you, his release causing you to finish again. Arms braced against the wall as you panted heavily, Eris softly pulled himself out of you. His hands rubbed down your arms, and you stood up straighter, albeit on shaky legs. His eyes were roaming your body, looking over all the marks leftover from your tryst. The two of you were no strangers to rougher sex - most of the time you two were only able to satiate each other against a tree for mother’s sake. The tiles were no concern to you, but you knew Eris felt something deeper within him, guilt perhaps at how little control he had and the marks a reminder of that. Having a bond was new, but accepting the bond was utter chaos. A thousand emotions rattled through you, unsure of who they truly belonged to the most dominant ones were to protect and to fuck.

Eris slipped his arm out of the shower, his head going with it. You took the moment to gaze down at his ass, the little freckles scattered across it gave you the urge to bite the plump flesh. He came back in fully with a washcloth, and your gaze softened. You reach out, grabbing his wrist to stop him.

“Er, I don’t care, we’ll probably be going at it again in twenty minutes.”

Despite your protests, he broke free of the loose grip you had on him. He brought the cloth up under the water, letting it get properly drenched. 

“I know.” 

He moved the washcloth down between your legs, his touch impossibly gentle compared with the male who was gripping your hips hard enough to bruise moments ago.

“We’ve just never gotten to have this part before.”

You think back to all the times you two have met - in the woods, in secure cabins, in closets to find that he was right. Every moment alone the two of you had counted, and neither of you were ever able to linger for long after sex. 

Another thing the secrecy cost the both of you.

He looked to you, asking silent permission, and you nod. He moved the washcloth, cleaning the remnants of himself off of you. He rinsed the washcloth again before moving it across your skin - your stomach, your shoulders, your arms. He lingered, taking the time to clean every inch of you. He laughed, pointing out you still had some chocolate behind your ear. Once he finished, he reached to turn off the shower, but your hand stopped his. 

His eyes are assessing as you slowly grab the washcloth from him, your own eyes reflecting his previous question. He nods, and you start your own work of cleaning him. Your eyes trail his body, taking in how vulnerable he is in this moment. You hummed softly, the tune of some song you can’t recall the name of. The sound makes some of the emotions inside of you die down a bit, replaced by a calmer feeling. Eris tips his head down as you wipe at his back, the scars there almost mirrors of your own.

The cloth moves down him, but you stop to kiss a few of the scars on his upper back. Once you’re done, you drop the washcloth on the floor, wrapping your arms around his torso. Eris’s hand reaches out, shutting off the shower, but not making any indication he wants to move. 

Eris’s love sitting inside of you felt different to the love you felt for him - synonyms, perhaps. But not quite the same.

After several minutes, you grabbed some towels from the cabinets, offering one to Eris. He slings it around his hips lazily, lifting you into his arms. You had barely wrapped yourself in the towel before he scooped you up.

The two of you land on the bed, decadent in shades of blue across the massive sea of blankets and pillows. The only reminder that neither of you were in your home courts. Eris taps your chest, the reminder you felt about having to leave him leaking over to his side of the bond.

You two settle on the pillows, discarding your towels to lay beneath the large duvet. You climbed on top of him, settling on his chest. His cock grew hard again, and you moved so you could settle with him inside of you. 

You traced your fingers over his freckles, connecting them with your finger. “I can make constellations out of them,” you tell him. 

The roar has subsided enough for you to feel like a person again rather than a beast. You know it’ll come back, in minutes or seconds you weren’t sure, but you wanted to spend whatever time with him like this that you could.

Eris thrusts softly inside of you, watching your eyes look for patterns in the freckles across his cheeks.

“Perhaps you can make me a constellation that will always lead me to you.”

You chuckle, leaning forward to kiss him softly. Your mate. You feel the pit inside of you start to roar, but you swallow it down, opting instead to search inside of yourself, finding that golden thread tethering you to him, and pulling.

“It appears I already have.”

He flips the two of you, laying you on your back as he slowly puts himself inside of you again. He fills you up completely, reaching the base of his cock before stopping and just staying there. 

“Mm, Eris.”

He smiles, his arms landing on each side of your face, caging you in. He moves a few strands of hair out of your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.

He smiles down at you, his freckles dancing across his face, the sunlight illuminating his hair to look as if it were made of flame.

His fingers tangle in your hair, lightly holding on. 

“You are everything to me.” 

His voice comes out soft and slightly shaky, as if the admission were almost painful. He began thrusting slowly, but this felt different. Anyone who had ever thought Eris Vanserra incapable of being soft should see him now.

“I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

His thrusts became faster with each word, but not harsher. 

“I will always take care of you.”

Your fingers grip his shoulders, your thumb softly rubbing the skin.

“And I you.”

You were reaching that peak again, but this time it felt different. It wasn’t feral, the need to satiate the physicality of the bond, but rather to remind yourself that you two were bound together, forever.

“I love you, mate.”

His words have you seeing stars, and you practically feel yourself leave your body, but you hear yourself say, “and I love you,” as Eris finishes inside of you.

He collapses on you, his cock still inside of you. You both are breathing heavily, unable to get enough air into your lungs. He collapses on top of you, his arms digging beneath you to wrap you in an embrace. 

No touch was enough, even as you wrapped your own arms around him, peppering kisses into the side of his head. The two of you lay there, eventually Eris peaks his head out from your neck to watch the snow fall outside the window. You think about the many lives you could lead with Eris Vanserra - how much simpler your lives could be if you were born of different circumstances. 

But those Erises wouldn’t be the one laying on top of you now. They wouldn’t have as sharp of a tongue as he does, or perhaps their noses wouldn’t slant the same way his does. You could lead a thousand lifetimes with a thousand Erises, each one different from the next. Your thumb grazes his cheek, deciding that easy was never meant for you. It was never meant for Eris, either.

In those thousand lifetimes, the only edge they have on this one is the ability for you two to be more free about your love. 

You wouldn’t have to return to your respective homes, glamouring the scent of your mating bond from those around you in a bid to mitigate the unwanted comments from those around either of you. Beron would be excited, an intercourt mating would come with tremendous benefits for him. Rhysand would be pissed, your entire family shocked at the secret, unable to bite their tongues from disrespecting your mate with the twisted truths.

Secrets can only last for so long. They all get spoken at some point, and one day everyone will know how you have been carrying Eris’s love for years, how it has carried you for much longer than you thought, and how it will still carry you wherever you need to go.

Even when it’s in the opposite direction of him.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx

Eris taglist: @secret-third-thing

Thanks for reading 💕

[catmiemy]

Not Work Day (Aitana Bonmatí x Reader)

Summary: Aitana and you spend a rare day off together.

A/N: This is just a silly little story I thought of a while ago and finally wrote in hopes of getting into more of a writting mood again. So many ideas and so little ability to put them on 'paper' lately...

I hope you enjoy this one! :)

Dating a professional football player wasn’t always easy. Whenever you mentioned that to anyone they usually assumed you referred to your girlfriend having to travel a lot or the lack of days off together because of conflicting schedules, or the interest the nosey media and even nosier public had in your relationship.

And sure, all of these things could be tricky at times, but there was something else that was even harder to bear; seeing your girlfriend being worked to the ground with almost no time to recuperate properly. Before you started dating Aitana you had never thought much about it, now it haunted you during the days and disturbed your dreams.

Every new injury you heard about made your stomach drop, always wondering the same thing, what if next time it would be your girlfriend going down with some horrible injury? The guilt always followed close behind, with your berating yourself for being happy in any capacity that someone else got hurt.

More often than not it was a struggle to watch Aitana’s games. You had a tendency to clench every single muscle in your body until the final whistle was blown, and you could be sure that nothing bad had happened.

For a while you did your best to keep these concerns to yourself, not wanting to make Aitana worry about you unnecessarily. Convinced that if you just wanted it enough, you would get over this.

You should have known that your girlfriend would catch on; she was too perceptive not to notice it, too concerned about your well-being to miss it.

When she did you explained somewhat reluctantly what was bothering you; the last thing you wanted was for your girlfriend to feel guilty. This wasn’t her fault at all and she shouldn’t feel bad about playing the sport she loved.

Despite your best efforts to downplay it, the first thing you saw in Aitana’s eyes once you finished your explanation was guilt. Most likely because you were looking for that emotion specifically, but in that moment you couldn’t think rationally like this. You were about to apologize, try and take it back somehow, when she asked you one simple question.

“Is there anything we can do to make you feel better about it?”

Up until that point it had never occurred to you to think about possible ways to make the situation easier for yourself. Usually your thoughts had been centered around scolding yourself for being such a worrywart. It made you oddly emotional that Aitana took you this seriously and didn’t dismiss your concerns.

Neither of you found a satisfying answer to the question that night, but over time you came up with something that helped, a tradition that you called ‘not work days’. 

On one of these ‘not work days’ you were awoken by Aitana trying to get up. Without opening your eyes you reached out to grab her wrist and pull her back into bed. You were met by some resistance, forcing you to open your eyes and scowl at the brunette.

“Hey, you work or not work?” You asked, leaving no room for interpretation what the correct answer was.

Aitana rolled her eyes at you, but relented, snuggling back into you much to your delight. You wrapped your arms around her and buried your face in her shoulder.

“I’m never going to be free of that stupid phrase, am I?” She grumbled.

“Nope,” you agreed, “And now hush, it’s way too early to be up on a not work day.”

You felt some lingering tenseness in your girlfriend’s body, apparently she wasn’t fully ready yet to commit to resting some more. It was time to pull out your magic weapon; you began gently tracing small circles in the space between Aitana’s eyebrows. It worked like a charm. Within seconds the brunette fell back asleep and you let yourself drift off as well.

The next time you woke up it was on your own accord, like you hoped it would be. Usually when you managed to get your girlfriend back to sleep she didn’t wake up again until late in the morning. In your mind a clear indication that the Spaniard needed this extra rest.

You allowed yourself to linger in bed a little longer to hold Aitana in your arms and watch her sleep. It was rare for her to be still if she was awake, always moving around, busy with one thing after another.

Mostly the midfielder loved it and was happy with her life, but sometimes it became all too much. She had confided in you a while back that being with you had helped her to finally find a healthy balance in her life. That was without a doubt the biggest compliment anyone had ever given you.

After a few more minutes you placed a soft kiss on your girlfriend’s forehead, before carefully extracting yourself and moving to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Breakfast in bed was a staple of the not work days..

You hummed happily to yourself while you made an omelet, mixed a smoothie and cut up some cherry tomatoes. And of course you couldn’t forget about the coffee! When everything was ready you walked back to the bedroom, ready to wake up Aitana with some gentle cuddles.

However, your plan was thwarted. You opened the door and instantly spotted your girlfriend on her cell phone. This in itself wasn’t a problem, but the way she had crunched up her nose and her eyebrows were knitted together, revealed to you that she was most likely looking at something work related. She looked too stressed for this to be anything else.

“What are you doing?” You demanded, “This is a not work day!”

You expected the Catalan to smile at you apologetically, instead a huge grin appeared on her face and she turned her phone around. It took a moment until you realized why she had done that; your girlfriend was recording the entire interaction and apparently she thought this was hilarious.

“Haha, very funny,” you grumbled, “I really thought you were working already.”

“I know, you should have seen your face,” Aitana replied between laughter, “Oh wait, you can. Come over here, mi amor.” She patted the bed next to her, but you remained standing. You would have crossed your arms, but the breakfast tray was stopping you from doing so.

“Don’t be like that, mi amor. I’m only giving back what you’ve been handing out. Or do I have to remind you how often you’re sending me that stupid ‘You work or not work’ video? How you even added some cute animal pictures to the beginning of it, so I wouldn’t recognize right away what clip it is? You violated the sanctity of cute animal pictures!”

The midfielder sounded so scandalized by this that you couldn’t help but crack a smile. You shuffled over to the bed, leaning over to give your girlfriend a good morning kiss. Just like you hoped this successfully distracted her from the stupid video she had recorded because you had no interest in watching it. You were admittedly better at teasing than being teased.

“So what’s the plan for today?” Aitana asked, tucking into her breakfast. “This is so good by the way.”

“No plans, we just do whatever you want to do,” you responded, deliberately ignoring her praise. Dealing with compliments also wasn’t one of your strengths.

“Whatever I want?” The Catalan asked with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes. “Everything that’s within the rules of not work days,” you clarified.

“But coming up with ideas is work too,” your girlfriend complained.

“My poor baby! Okay, here are some ideas; we can bundle up on the couch and watch a movie, we can make cookies, we can take a walk in the rain…”

“Yes! Let’s take a walk in the rain,” Aitana interrupted, her choice surprising you. The midfielder wasn’t known for liking the rain, in fact she made no secret of how much she hated the rain.

“Really?” You double-checked.

Your girlfriend nodded, “Yeah, you made it sound so romantic a few days ago. Both of us under one umbrella, the rain pattering on it, huddling close together for warmth. Sounds like a movie scene.”

“Okay then, let’s do it.”

The two of you got ready, Aitana putting on much more clothes than you. Normally you would tease your girlfriend about it, but you didn’t want to risk her remembering the video she had taken earlier.

In the beginning the walk was actually romantic. The sound of the pitter patter on the umbrella was soothing, especially with how quiet and deserted the roads were. You breathed in deeply, savoring the smell of rain. Aitana was snuggling into your side and when you looked over she had a soft smile on her lips.

Before too long however, you noticed that your girlfriend clung a little too strongly to you and she was dragging her feet. This time when you glanced her way you were met by an unhappy expression, though it quickly morphed into a forced smile as soon as Aitana noticed your eyes on her.

You pulled her to a stop. “What is it, babe?”

“My feet are wet,” the Catalan whined.

Your eyes snapped to her feet. Your girlfriend was wearing her favorite and already pretty worn sneakers. It wasn’t really surprising that they weren’t able to withstand the rain anymore.

“Then let’s go back home,” you stated, already turning around and tugging Aitana’s hand to follow you.

“No, I don’t want to ruin this.”

You turned to face the midfielder again, cupping her cheek with your free hand.

“And I don’t want you to be miserable, or worse get sick. And anyway this is your not work day, so you should only do things you’re enjoying.”

Aitana nuzzled slightly into your palm, smiling up at you. “Okay, but I disagree, it’s our not work day.”

You walked back rapidly to your apartment and when you got there you sent the brunette to the bedroom with the instruction to change into something comfy and get rid of her wet socks.

“Don’t put on other ones though! I have something for you,” you added.

A few minutes later you met Aitana back at the couch, a cup of tea in one hand and the other one hidden behind your back. Your girlfriend craned her neck, trying to sneak a peek, but you didn’t allow it.

“Show meeeee,” the Catalan begged.

You followed the request, showing her the fluffy socks you had bought a while back. A huge smile spread across Aitana’s face as she saw them.

“They look so comfortable. Thank you! But how did you know I would need them?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I didn’t. I just bought them randomly for a not work day. It’s pure luck that you got wet feet today.”

“Or maybe this was all part of an elaborate evil plan to get me to undress my feet in front of you,” Aitana joked.

“You got me there. That’s why I raved about walks in the rain and that’s why I suggested it this morning. I even sabotaged your shoes,” you explained with a serious face.

Your girlfriend giggled happily. “I guess in that case you’ve earned the right to put on the new socks and give me a foot rub afterwards,” she said, sticking her feet out towards you.

“How generous of you!” You exclaimed, quickly putting on the fluffy socks.

Then you went to sit down next to Aitana to give her the requested foot rub, but you stopped in your tracks when you saw the midfielder glaring at you.

“Everything okay?” You asked uncertainly.

“No!” The brunette cried out, making your heart beat faster; what had you done wrong? “I need you to change into comfortable clothes as well. This doesn’t look like a good outfit to relax in.”

You looked down yourself and only now realized that you were still wearing jeans. “Oh, I guess you’re right.”

Before you got a change to move away, Aitana caught your hand and pulled you in for a kiss. “Sorry for scaring you. I didn’t realize it would actually make you anxious,” she apologized. “And now go, I need my girlfriend to warm me up.”

You were happy to oblige, hurrying to the bedroom.

“And can you bring the laptop back with you? I’m in the mood for some online shopping,” Aitana shouted after you.

You were happy to do so since it signified that your girlfriend had fully gotten into the swing of the not work day. It was always the same; in the beginning she didn’t know what she wanted to do, but as time progressed the midfielder became more attuned to her own desires that she so often put on the back burner.

On your return you handed Aitana the laptop before plopping down by her feet, taking them in your lap for the promised foot rub. You hadn’t even started yet, when your girlfriend let out a surprise “Oh”, pulling her feet back and scooting closer to you instead.

“What are these?” She asked, showing you the screen with your last internet search. It had completely slipped your mind what you had been looking at the day before.

“Dresses,” you offered up dryly.

“Yeah, I can see that. Any special occasion?” Aitana probed.

“You know the answer to that. It’s not every day you get to accompany your girlfriend to an award show for the best football players in the world,” you replied nervously; although you didn’t know why you felt nervous about this.

“Aw, I really appreciate that!” Your girlfriend cooed, her eyes flickering over the screen, “Can I help pick?”

You nodded; that had always been the plan. Since this was the first time you were going along as Aitana’s partner you wanted to look your best, so another opinion was definitely needed.

“Some of them are pretty expensive,” the Catalan mentioned carefully.

Money had always been a touchy subject between the two of you. Aitana had a lot more of it than you did; still you didn’t feel comfortable with constantly letting her pay, insisting that you took turns. The brunette wasn’t too happy about that, but by now you had found some middle ground, usually going to less expensive places when it was your turn to pay.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you dismissed Aitana’s concern, “And I want to look worthy of my girlfriend. You know she’s currently the best football player in the world?”

“You sound so proud of me.”

Atiana’s voice was oddly quit; it made you wonder if she doubted that you were proud of her. You thought back to the last few games and realized with a start that you couldn’t remember the last time you had actually said these words. This way worrying, especially considering your girlfriend had a hard time believing things unless she heard them over and over again.

“That’s because I am,” you responded firmly, vowing to do better.

“Even if it makes you anxious?” The brunette wondered.

You sighed, rubbing your face. “Let’s be honest, no matter what job you had, I would always be anxious about something. That’s the annoying thing about anxiety; it’ll always find something else to worry about.”

Aitana looked up at you hopefully, “So you don’t hate that I’m a footballer?”

“What? No, of course not! And I’m sorry if I made you feel like that,” you apologized.

“Well that’s good then,” your girlfriend announced, a smirk appearing on her face, “But hey, is working out issues even allowed on a not work day? Or did you just break your own rules?”

You rolled your eyes, “Of course it’s allowed and since they’re my rules, I can change them whenever I want.”

Aitana raised her eyebrows, fighting to keep her face neutral, “Oh really, is that how it works?”

“Yes,” you nodded sagely.

A devilish grin appeared on your girlfriend’s face, and too late you recognized your mistake.

“In that case I’m making my own rules as well and decide that I get to buy you this blue dress.” She pointed to the one that was your absolute favorite, but that was also firmly out of your price range.

“Aitana,” you groaned, “That’s not how it works!”

“Oh? If you can make up random rules, so can I,” the Catalan pointed out, daring you to disagree with her.

“That’s not the same at all. I don’t want you to spend money on my clothes,” you argued

“Why not? If you think about it, I’ll get to appreciate your dress much more than you. I can admire you in it all night long, and maybe I’ll even get to take if off of you. And this dress will look stunning on you; it will really bring out your eyes.”

“Fine”, you relented, making your girlfriend squeal happily. There was one more thing to say though, so you stopped Aitana’s over the top celebration with one hand. “But this means you can only get me something small for my birthday.

“Okay,” the midfielder agreed suspiciously quickly.

“And I mean that, Tana!” You doubled down.

Your girlfriend nodded, but seemed to be only half-listening, too busy adding the dress to your cart. You would just have to bring it up again when your birthday was closer because you wouldn’t be budging on that.

After Aitana successfully ordered the dress, she leaned back with a content sigh.

“I really love these not work days, you know?”

Your heart leapt happily at that concession.  “Me too, babe.”

Sometimes you wished you got more of them, but maybe not having them all the time made them extra special.

[totalswag]

okay so rafe x brat!reader with a huge attitude towards everyone around her ??? only rafe could make her calm down n behave omg the dream

attitude attitude - RAFE CAMERON

authors note pretty sure you sent me request before you sent me this one but THANK YOU for this idea. i can definitely see rafe being the only one to calm brat!reader down in these certain circumstances. just the thought of rafe doing this ugh only a girl could dream 😫.

requests are still open so feel free to send them my way. if you click on the bold red font it will take you to my ask box lovies!!!

summary brat!reader has a huge attitude towards everyone and her boyfriend rafe is the only one to calm her down.

warnings drinking, smoking, cursing, possible fight, making out, implied smut

Rafe and you were on our way to a kook party, which had been the talk of Kildcare for quite some time. The traffic lights made the drive take ten minutes. Rafe had his right hand on your thigh and the other on the steering wheel.

Rafe let out a breath, turning his head in your direction as you look out the passenger window, "Y/N before we get to the party, please be on your best behavior tonight," you turn your head around looking at him confused.

"And what if I'm not on my best behavior?" You smirk, tilting your head to the side.

Rafe laughs as he turns the corner toward the house. "You already know what will happen, princess," he says in the tone that just gets you going.

One thing about you have a bad attitude towards everyone around you. You have a short temper and become overstimulated easily. Rafe is the only person who can calm you down and behave in certain situations.

You say what needs to be said and don't care whose feelings get hurt. You have no fear confronting someone that's been talking about you or anyone you care for in a negative way.

If anything, Rafe and you are nearly the same, except you are worse.

The party has undoubtedly been the topic of much discussion during the last week. Outside, music can be heard, as can voices. Rafe held your hand as you two entered the big house, which smelled of weed, alcohol, people making out, and bodies grinding against each other. To move around the house, you have to squeeze.

A few guys recognized Rafe- calling out his name, waving, or dabbing him up.

"The fuck you looking at?" You question a group of girls who give you a filthy look as you walk past them with Rafe.

Rafe squeezed your waist after you snapped at the girls, "remember what I said princess."

You rolled your eyes as you let out a huff at his comment but on the inside you wanted to get on your knees for that man. There's something about the way the word princess rolls off his tongue.

Rafe and you parted ways after spending a majority of time together in the first half n hour. He went to hang out with the guys, while you are with some of your girlfriends. You two trust each other enough to be away from each other at parties like these.

He was out on the balcony which wasn't far from where you were. So if anything were to happen he would be there in a second.

Your girlfriends and you were in the living room, sitting on the couch with drinks in our hands after dancing for thirty minutes in the large crowd to the music which was still packed with sweaty bodies rubbing against one another.

"This party is packed," Olivia, one of your girlfriends, exclaimed while gazing around.

The rest of you are nodding in agreement with Olivia's comment.

"Josh will have a lot to pick up in the morning," you say, taking a sip from your drink, talking about the guy who's hosting the party.

You noticed the group of girls you snapped at earlier walking up to where you and your friends were seated; they stood close enough for you to hear what they were saying.

You tell your friends about the little incident. They all agreed it wasn't that big of a deal. You were wondering why they were giving you a dirty look for no reason.

"Can you believe that bitch came in with her guy earlier? I can't believe Rafe is even with that girl," the girl shouts to her friends, clearly affected by the situation. Her friends all agreed and saying their imput.

Who do these girls think they are? You think.

Thalia's jaw dropped as she heard what the girl said. Thalia rushes to look at you, but she already sees you standing up to confront the group of girls.

"This isn't going to end well, get Rafe right now," Olivia runs towards Thalia, pointing to the balcony.

Thalia sprints to the balcony to grab Rafe and the guys. Olivia looks in your direction with worry- she knows you like the back of her hand.

"Like Rafe can do so much better than that sl-" The girl was cut off when you poked her on the shoulder. She turns around about to see who tapped her but shuts her mouth when it's you.

"You wanna finish what you were gonna say?" You ask in a serious tone, crossing your arms over your chest, "because it's really funny hearing you lame asses talking shit about me over something so minor," you remark with a straight face.

Your blood was boiling.

The girl that was talking the most scoffs, putting her hair over her shoulder. "I said that Rafe can do much better than being with a slut like you" she steps close to your face.

Her little posy agreed and putting in their input.

These bitches sound dumb.

You can't help but laugh: "You sound very insecure, you all do in fact," pointing at them. "Calling me a bitch because I clapped back cause you three were giving me a dirty look when I walked in mind my business with my boyfriend?" The tone in your voice indicated that you were not messing around.

She puts her index finger on your chest, "Oh honey that's not us being insecure it's just us stating facts. Plus you are a bitch" she says giving a fake smile.

The moment her finger laid on your chest everything in you was telling you to rip her face off.

You forcefully swap her hand off your chest, taking her off guard with your strength. She glances at you, slightly afraid, but remains calm. Her friends' eyes almost fell out of their sockets.

Other's around have their phones out and waiting for something to happen. To them this is entertainment.

"Am I a bitch for calling you out for giving me a dirty look? Listen, bitch, I have never met you before in my life. I don't care what comes out of my mouth because I'll say what needs to be said." At this point, you are eating the girl up and she has nothing else to say since she knows you are correct.

After you finish your sentence, she rolls her eyes and extends her arms, pushing you back slightly, taking you by surprise. She glances at you, still wanting more. You aren't the kind to fight, but she put her hands on you first.

Your girlfriends rush over immediately. No matter what happens your girls will always have your back.

Before you swung you felt two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you away from the fight that's about to happen.

"What did I tell you princess?" Rafe calmly asks you in your ear. He could feel the tension in your body on a hundred.

The group of girls begin giggling, "Aw, you need your boyfriend to pull you away from that mu-" Rafe instantly hushed her up, "You shut the fuck up!" he said sternly, pointing at her and gazing at her straight-faced.

Others around started laughing.

Rafe halted in front of the host, Josh, and told him to kick the group of girls out of the party. Josh nods and instructs the girls to leave due of the ruckus they created.

Rafe took you upstairs to a room for you to cool down. He knows what to do in situations like these- always gives you reassurance, gives you a cold bottle of water, telling you that everything's going to be okay and to take deep breath's.

When your body is placed on the bed carefully, you let out a frustrated sigh, running your hands through your hair, shaking your head. Ranting about the encounter that happened.

Rafe stands between your open legs, gently grasping your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, and tilting your head back slightly to make eye contact with him.

"Princess you are okay, focus on the sound of my voice, yeah?" He says in a calming tone that relaxes you, placing the front section of your hair behind your ear.

The more Rafe calms you down the more relaxed you feel. Words cannot explain how you appreciated him. You can't imagine how you could get out of this moment without him helping you out of it.

"There you go, just keep repeating that," Rafe says as you take long breathes in and out.

Once you calmed down enough you looked up to Rafe, still standing between your legs, looking at you with his blue eyes.

"Thank you for calming me down- I love you," you say, smiling with your teeth, "of course, anything for my girl. I know how you get in these types of situations and it's my job to calm you down" he says before kissing your lips softly.

When he pulls away you ask him the question, "Are you mad at me?" You asked curiously.

"No, I'm not, but it was really hot seeing you like that," he grins as he plays with the gold necklace he got you with his first initial.

You cover your face with your palm, blushing. Rafe takes your hand away, putting it back on your lap and moving closer to you, causing your back to hit the bed's comforter.

You two look into each other's eyes and then kiss. The sexual tension in the room starts to rise. You both crave each other's touch in the most intimate way.

"I want you Rafe," you moan between kisses, "so bad" dragging out the d, running your hands down his clothed chest.

"I'm all yours."

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[runningfrom2am]

Hi, how’s your day been going? Hoping it was amazing. I just saw your post about needing inspo for Coriolanus fics! I’m not sure if you are taking requests but if you are Could you maybe do a touch-starved Coryo fic? Something fluffy/angsty where Coryo can finally fulfill those needs and be himself and vulnerable with the reader. Thanks!

as long as you need me - c.s

pairing: coryo x fem!reader

wc: 1.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, he just needs you and you just want to help.

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)

nav / coriolanus snow masterlist

a/n: ahhh thank you for sending this in! it was so fun to write like stopppp i just want to give him a hug omg. also thought i'd post this to hold y'all off until i post the next part of LTPF. anyway, enjoy!

You had a very stable grasp of the limits of your relationship. What was appropriate, and what was not. You were quite shy, and Coryo always carried himself with a high level of decorum. You would eat together at lunch, and he would walk you home most days. The weekends, your study dates, were always your favourite. He was significantly more relaxed, but you could still tell he was just a little tightly wound. By now, you've just learned that's who he is. Not overly affectionate, but he cares for you and you care for him. 

"I can't stay late today, I'm sorry." You said, genuinely feeling bad for having to turn down the request. In your junior year, you started tutoring for younger grades at the academy and it is something you thoroughly enjoyed.

"I have a test tomorrow! Why can't you stay? Just for a few minutes- I just have a couple of questions." The first year, Aelia whined.

"My boyfriend is supposed to walk me home and he has a tight schedule, but I'll tell you what, I can meet you in the library in the morning before class. That way it will still be fresh in your mind, yeah?" You grinned, and she seemed satisfied as you agreed on a time, not knowing that a few of the girls in your grade were listening in.

"Y/N," Clemensia decided to approach you as Aelia walked off, Arachne and Livia following close behind. "Did I catch you telling someone that you have a boyfriend? Did I hear that right?"

"Oh, well, yes." You answered sheepishly, gathering your things to put in your bag before your next class.

"Really?" Livia chimed in, and you just nodded. "Okay, well, spill. Who is it? Do I know him?"

"Um..." You looked around, deciding what to say. You weren't necessarily keeping it a secret, but you just hadn't felt the need to tell anyone you went to school with. "It's Coriolanus. Snow." You cleared your throat, unsure why you even added his last name. It's not like the name Coriolanus was abundantly common.

"Shut up." Clemensia laughed slightly, eyes widening at you. "You're joking, right?"

"No... We've been together for almost seven months now."

"I just... wow. We had no idea. Seven months! I feel like I've never seen the two of you get closer than two feet apart." You weren't sure whether to interpret this response as teasing or genuine shock- so you just gave them an awkward smile and a small nod before walking away.

At the time, you had never considered how your lack of affection in public could be confusing to people- not that it mattered. Rumors had spread quickly after that, which was to be expected when Livia and Arachne were involved. However, PDA just wasn't your thing. General displays of affection weren't really your thing, either. Both of you always had a lot going on, and having been together for almost a year by now, you knew that you loved him and he loved you. You didn't have to prove it to each other or to anyone, there was no pressure for anything to change. On your end, anyway.

Coryo, on the other hand, was feeling something shift. Leading up to the reaping and more importantly, to the prize. You both were in the running, being in the top twenty-four of your class, and you had no doubt that Coryo was a shoo-in, but you didn't know how extremely anxious it was making him. The now constant thrumming of his heartbeat in his chest and his shaky hands were always less around you, and he can only dream of how much better it would be if he could just hold you.

These days, he'd wake up expecting you in his arms due to a particularly calming dream only to be disappointed. He respected you a great amount and wouldn't want to push your boundaries, however unspoken. Still, he wasn't sure how much longer he could go about his day-to-day without testing his theory that holding you could cure his fears, or at least let him forget about them for only a moment. He would happily take just a second of peace.

Coriolanus usually greeted you outside of your unshared classes, seeing that you tended to stay a few minutes late to ask questions or polish off your notes. He couldn't wait to see you, he needed to.

"Coryo." You smile, walking out of your lecture hall to see him waiting.

"Hi, Love. How was class?" Your boyfriend greets you, joining you on your walk towards the exit of the school.

"It was good. Though, I find the topic of the rebellion kind of redundant at this point." You say, books tucked against your chest under folded arms. "Is it not too soon to discuss it in a history class? I mean, I literally remember what it was like to live in a bomb shelter."

Your joke seemingly lands on deaf ears as he just hums, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you out of the building. This wasn't totally unusual, but with the way he was pushing you, albeit gently, was telling you that something was wrong.

"Is everything okay?" You ask him, looking up at the boy next to you as you reach the bottom of the academy's front steps.

"Fine." Coryo nods, attempting a reassuring smile that he isn't aware falls short.

"Okay, well... If you want to talk about anything, I'm here for you, you know. Always."

"I know. Thank you, Love." He drops his hand from your back to hold your free one, turning in the direction of your apartment.

The next afternoon, you're in the same class, one of the rare ones you don't share with Coryo, taking down notes from the lecture when there's a knock on the door, followed by it creaking open. You pay no mind, taking the opportunity to catch up on everything written on the board.

"May I borrow Y/N, please?" Your boyfriend's voice is scratchy and shakey in a way unfamiliar sounding to you, making your head snap up. You'd never seen him cry before. "Only for a moment."

Your teacher dismisses you, likely on account of your and Coriolanus's mutually spotless records and his red-rimmed eyes. Clearly, you were needed urgently. You leave your bag and your books, ignoring the whistles and heckling of some of your classmates as you rush to the door.

Coryo had reached his breaking point. He was writing his third paper of the week, unable to focus on that and get his mind off of how unlikely it was he would get the prize if the Dean had any say. Sitting in the library, the world had started turning around him. People were talking, laughing, even, and he couldn't take it anymore. The floodgates opened and he had rushed out of the room. He couldn't go home, his attendance would be affected and he'd be throwing away the prize most definitely. He had nowhere to go, except for to you.

You close the door behind yourself, thankful that the hallway is completely deserted during class time. "Hey, what's going on?" You ask, and before you can get a good look at him he's pulling you into a crushing hug, shaking around you.

You're shocked for a moment, pulling yourself out of your head to hug him back. Whatever is bothering him must be bad. He'd hugged you before, but never like this. "Hey, it's okay..." You whisper, rubbing his back. "Let's go outside for a second, yeah? Get some air?" You offer, gently prying yourself from his grasp to look at him.

Coryo can't speak, overtaken completely by the tears flowing down his cheeks and the anxiety flooding every inch of his body. He feels like he could be sick, all he knew that he needed was you. He just nods, trying to regain his composure, if only for the couple of minutes it takes to get outside.

"Okay. Let's go." You smile, trying not to show how worried you are as you wrap an arm around his back, still holding him close to you as if he has a broken ankle and you have to carry him. So far, his theory was proving to be correct. Just having you at his side was calming to him, and mentally he's cursing himself for not voicing his fears to you before they broke him.

As soon as the door of the rarely used back exit to the school is closed, he's essentially collapsing onto the ground, tucking his knees up to his chest and crying into his hands. You're quick to join him, draping an arm over his back and trying to grab one of his hands to hold. Your brow is knit with worry, rubbing his shoulder as he allows you to take one of his shaking hands. "Coryo..." You say softly, trying to get him to look at you but he won't. "What's happening? Talk to me, you can trust me. I just want to help."

He sniffles, looking up at you. "What is it?" You ask again, hoping to prompt any kind of information out of him. When he doesn't answer, you curve your approach to yes or no questions, hopefully, to make it easier on him. "Is someone hurt? Is it Grandma'am? Did something happen?"

He shakes his head slightly with every question, once again avoiding your eyes as he looks down at the ground, occasionally trying to cough out the knot in his throat.

"...Do you want to talk? Or do you just need a hug?" You realize, leaning in so he would look at you again.

He pulls you closer, wrapping both his arms around you awkwardly due to the way you are both sitting. "Just need you here." He mumbles, hardly audible as he buries his face in your shoulder and neck.

Relieved to hear his voice again, you place a hand on his hair and on his back, holding him tight. "I'm here, Coryo. As long as you need me."

taglist: @keziahcore, @soulessjourney, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @rororo06, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @slytherinholland, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @darlingisntit, @roosterschanelslut, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world, 

[astonmartinii]

hi!! i really love your blog: i usually stay silent and only like the posts but i thought today should be the day i request something!

would you be open to write a social media au with lando Norris x y/n where the reader is a marine biologist? or a surfer? or something ocean-related lmao

feel free to disregard this request if you don’t like it or don’t have time!! xx

just add water | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x fem reader

first fish ruined his appetite, now they steal his girlfriend?

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 103,451 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: perks of the job but back on shore i clock in to my full time job of missing lando

view all comments

user1: can we have the hair routine cause miss ma'am is in the sea every damn day and her hair is still healthier than mine

user2: REAL

landonorris: f1 is just my day job, talking about you is my passion and career

yourusername: babe even the whales in monterey bay know about you

landonorris: they better be mclaren fans

yourusername: eh i think i heard super max (whale edition) the other day

maxverstappen1: conquered all of f1 and the seven seas so real of me

landonorris: THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE SAYING THE RISING OCEAN TEMPERATURES ARE FRYING THEIR BRAINS

yourusername: babe don't joke about that :(

landonorris: sorry :(

oscarpiastri: can you please come to the next race i may put my head through a wall if i have to watch this man go through his camera roll again RETELLING me all of the stories

yourusername: didn't realise we were so annoying 🧐

oscarpiastri: don't get me wrong you guys are cute but sometimes i wanna nap after practice in peace and not hear about whale shit

landonorris: i SEE HOW IT IS

alexalbon: no oscar is right i've heard about when had a baby seal on her surfboard about seven billion times

yourusername: HEY that was cute

user3: okay but lando could talk to ME about y/n's adventures

user4: i want to hear ALL of it for real

user5: lando and y/n podcast when?

alexalbon: do not give them ideas they’re already number one and two yappers in the international waffling championship

yourusername: yapper and proud 😤

landonorris: healthy relationship communications and boundaries? no. yappers? yes!

alexalbon: has anyone ever told you guys you’re annoying?

yourusername: yes 😃

user6: they’re so annoying i love them

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,209,451 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: does this girl own a pair of trousers? real question.

view all comments

user8: i actually don't think i've ever seen a man this down bad

user9: ALL men should aspire to be this whipped

yourusername: i wish you would join the no trouser revolution, give the girlies something to look at

user10: i agree

yourusername: okay back up babe that ass is all mine

landonorris: it's okay babe you can admire your (my) ass all the time if you come home PLS

yourusername: sorry babe the ocean doesn't sleep and the whales need me

landonorris: but i need you too :(

maxverstappen1: WAH WAH I'M SICK OF YOUR FUCKING WHINING

alexalbon: THANK YOU FINALLY

landonorris: erm why am i being victimised in my own comment section

maxverstappen1: you are doing my fucking nut in mate yeha i get you miss her but kinda your fault for having a cool gf with a cool job

yourusername: omg thanks 😊

landonorris: Y/N???

yourusername: babe no offence but he's a three time world champ i'm gonna take the compliment

landonorris: i guess so :(

user10: just one normal comment section, please that is all i ask for

oscarpiastri: maybe i should get on this whole j.peg business cause my photography is doing some heavy lifting here

yourusername: i didn't take you for a stunt queen miss rookie

landonorris: where is the peace, love and positivity ?? you guys are such haters

oscarpiastri: proudly

yourusername: no cool shells for you mr piastri

oscarpiastri: I TAKE IT BACK

landonorris: you people are such flip flops

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and 112,872 others

yourusername: i promise we do actually do work

view all comments

user14: why am i now considering a marine biology degree for a sick ass instagram feed

user15: and protecting the sanctity of ocean life?

user14: yeah sure throw that in there too?

landonorris: i hope you slapped the FUCK out of that stingray for steve irwin

yourusername: babe we all know violence is not the answer

landonorris: you said you'd break the knee caps of any driver that took me out?

yourusername: i do not recall this

landonorris: steve irwin is a national treasure, you should've done it for oscar

oscarpiastri: i'm sure it wasn't that exact stingray mate

landonorris: you don't know that

danielricciardo: i see you've forgotten about the other aussie you were teammates with ???

yourusername: i wouldn't have that if i were you daniel

landonorris: y/n??? you're meant to be on my side

yourusername: say sorry to larry and maybe i'll gang up on daniel with you

danielricciardo: Y/N???

landonorris: i'm sorry larry ... and daniel i guess ?

danielricciardo: if my hand weren't broken right now...

user16: okay i think lando is having y/n withdrawals

yourusername: his bitchiness is a symptom of separation anxiety

landonorris: sorry not sorry

user17: mclaren pr praying for y/n to come to a race soon

maxverstappen1: p says pretty please can she bagsy the pink shells?

yourusername: most definitely she can !! i'll even be on the look out for more

maxverstappen1: thank you y/n you're my favourite - p

yourusername: that's it i'm coming home rn

landonorris: am i a joke to you?

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,322,099 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: reunited and it feels so good oh and a double podium, pretty sweet

view all comments

user21: obsessed with how lando said that y/n is clearly his lucky charm and the "dumbass" ocean won't be getting his girlfriend back

user22: there's levels to hating and lando's level of hating on the ocean??

user23: his hatred of fish makes so much more sense right now

user24: either he hates anything to do with the ocean or y/n convinced him they deserve to live 😭

landonorris: i'll say it's number one but realistically it's two greatly helped by the fact that it tastes gross anyway

yourusername: I'M SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU

landonorris: i know hhehehehehehehe

yourusername: i love you stupid

landonorris: i love you too dummy

yourusername: as much as i enjoyed this race i am ready for home time (after karaoke, you promised me karaoke with yuki)

landonorris: AHAHAHAAH TAKE THAT OCEAN Y/N COMING HOME

alexalbon: bro has beef with the ocean 😭

georgerussell63: bro had to share his gf with WATER 😭

maxverstappen1: bro is being ... torn apart here KEEP GOING LOL

oscarpiastri: no keep going cause i just want a nap before debrief and some people are being WAY TOO LOUD

carlossainz55: i think that's probably why you guys are getting away with bullying the little goblin

user25: oscar out here just confirming that lando and y/n are ... for lack of a better word up to no good?

user26: y/n didn't lie when she called him a stunt queen

landonorris: i can't hear y'all LALALALALALA

yourusername: they hate us because they ain't us

landonorris: period 💅

user27: i hate (love) them your honour

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 419,034 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: so he had the whole proposal planned out but got a bit too excited at suzuka ... if anyone asks we got engaged on a boat in the mediterranean not in his driver's room. aside from that, HOLY FUCK I AM ENGAGED TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE I LOVE YOU LANDO I CAN'T WAIT FOR FOREVER

view all comments

user30: HOLY 😭 FUCKING 😭 SHIT 😭

landonorris: can we agree on no more like three month placements pretty please?

yourusername: baby the whales need me

landonorris: i need you more FIANCE :(

yourusername: gosh you are convincing, no more retreats for more than a month

landonorris: yay !!

yourusername: you need to put up more shelves for our shells though

landonorris: on it, i love you (i'm calling my dad to do it)

yourusername: i love you too baby

danielricciardo: enchante tease on the engagement post and for free ??? love you two

yourusername: at least you have the prettiest model ever for it

landonorris: I'M BLUSHING

danielricciardo: i'll deal with this because i'm happy for you two

mclarenf1: double podium and an engagement, suzuka really delivered this year

oscarpiastri: i guess i take back my comments about being loud in the drivers room... i'm so happy for you guys you deserve it

landonorris: ahaha i knew you were a softy really pastry boy

yourusername: i always knew you loved us really oscar, you're just sassy and we respect that

landonorris: .... sure

maxverstappen1: did he propose at sea in one final power move over his arch nemesis the ocean?

yourusername: have you considered he did it at sea because i'm a marine biologist and i love it out there and he loves me?

maxverstappen1: well now i look like an asshole

landonorris: the sea 0 - 1 lando

yourusername: lando 😭

user31: well this has all been a rollercoaster

fin.

note: i've been kinda mia on here and i'm super sorry this request has taken so long lol. wanted to get this out now though cause lando had a horrid day today but i'm glad he's okay !! enjoy, i'm in my second week of a job so might get less busy xx

[keferon]

Okay- I adore the Mecha AU.. so now I have to share MY terrible idea, dunno if anyone has said this yet but- you remember that in pacific rim when Raleigh & Mako DRIFT and they both experience each other’s trauma?

What if that happened with Jazz & Prowl?

Like-

One day Prowl starts noticing a difference in Jazz's behavior, noticing how he would suddenly tense up or flinch whenever somebody suddenly started speaking loud or in the morning he’d notice how he was soaked in sweat and shakily making his way to the wash racks. Whenever he’d ask if he was alright he was always met with a smile and a reassuring remark, yet he knew something was off and he wanted to help.

So then (once he’s fully healed) he suggests to Jazz that they should do trust exercises under the guise that since he doesn’t have another Mecha so they should strengthen their own bond for any future battles. Jazz is hesitant, especially since he blames himself for Prowl being in that situation in the first place, but he also wants to spend time with Prowl so he agrees.

Prowl probably would go to a secluded spot in the forest they’re in, somewhere safe where, once Jazz is relaxed enough he can ask him about these strange behaviors he’s recently been exhibiting. Surely nothing bad will happen and surely Jazz will be fine like he usually is…

The training exercises go well, Jazz is feeling fine and they’re both in the zone when suddenly a bad memory spontaneously starts to haunt Jazz and it triggers a PTSD-esque Episode where Jazz freezes up and is suddenly taken back to that horrible time..

The time he was strapped down to a bedbunk, his body writhing in agonizing pain, the constant sting of needles piercing his skin followed by an intense burning sensation that can only be likened to being burned from the inside out, his vision going blurry and his throat raw and bleeding from screaming and crying, his body shaking and shivering as a thick sheen of sweat coats his body.

And right now… because of the DRIFT.. Prowl sees it too, he not only sees it but he’s there, standing over Jazz's restrained body, he hears screams and sounds he never EVER wanted to hear, not from Jazz of all people. His precious partner, he’s looking down at him unable to help or protect him from these strangers, these monsters who are ignoring the ear piercing, spark-wrenching screams of pure agony. Worst of all? He can’t move, he’s frozen in place, forced to stand there helplessly as Jazz is begging for mercy, begging for someone to help him… and. he. can’t. move.

It lasts just for a moment but for both of them it felt like an hour until Jazz screams himself back into reality, freeing both him and Prowl from his nightmare. Prowl drops to a knee, his mind racing as he tries to figure out what the actual hekk he just saw until he feels Jazz pounding his fist against his chest, he can vaguely make out his choked up plea which scares Prowl as he’s never heard Jazz make that noise before. Prowl opens it and barely manages to catch Jazz as the man tumbled out into his own shaky servo in a trembling heap.

Jazz is slightly pale and tears are in his eyes as he struggles to catch his breath, he knows he’s not there anymore but he still feels it.

Prowl rushes back to Ratchets hideout where he the others are and calls for him, fear gripping his tanks as Jazz is still huddled in a fetal position, hyperventilating as he grips his soaked hair. Ratchet immediately recognizes what’s happened and quickly moves to help Jazz calm down before he has a heart attack which he is very close to having with how high his pulse is. It works but the man is so worn out from the stress that he just passes out.

I don’t know but that’s been plaguing my mind since I started reading your AU and I just HAD to share it lol, what do you think? How do you think Prowl would actually react to that? I figured he’d freak out as humans and their fragile bodies are still new territory for him.

Also sorry if it’s all a bit unclear or confusing or like- boarderline rambling I’m not good at storytelling and just stick to RP and making RP plots lol.

OH MAN. OH FUCK. YEP UH HUH YEAH. THIS. oh my god

Knowing Prowl, he would probably rush to learn every bit of information he can access about. You know. How to help someone in that scenario. Because he’s scared that something would went wrong while he has zero knowledge about humans.

But also. I think it would make him realise just how strong despite his small size Jazz actually is.

Jazz might drop something about his brain being over dramatic when it’s not helpful at all. While Prowl is just are you fraggin serious you’re a superhuman

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

Astarion prefers monogamy.

Again, simply my cup of thought tea steeped from my game experience. Its not everyone's drink. No shame, no blame, it's your game. Warning for triggers and spoilers.

*added note due to misunderstandings.

Please notice I said "prefers monogamy" not "is monogamous". He may be up for added partners later on down the line. But definitely not any time before the epilogue in my world.

So, why do I think he prefers monogamy?

Take..

"Iv never had anyone. Not really. Nothing that compares to you."

And mix that with...

"I had nothing for so very long. NOTHING! Not even my own body!"

And add..

"You're you. Nobody is like that."

Plus countless other comments and actions and you get a bowl full of elf who just wants something for himself only for a change.

Centuries of being forced to give up or share everything. His possessions, his person, his own thoughts. Nothing to claim as own that no one else could take or touch at any moment. I'm sure if anything was given to him, he had to fight to keep it.

I think, he would be a bit possessive of anything he could claim as his own.

You are a gift to him. Something rare and special beyond words. I highly doubt he would be willing to share anything you are sharing with him outside of friendship. I could even see him getting fussy about strangers touching you. Moving you away or putting himself physically between you and whomever just touched you without asking.

Hells, even ascended Astarion isn't 100% game to share.

"As much as I wish to sequester you in a deep chamber of my palace and keep you all to myself...there is much to be done."

But, what about Halsin? He says he's fine with it.

Is he? Or is he people pleasing?

If he had said something along the lines of,

"Oh? He wants to share does he? Of course he does. I'm not up for such activities just yet, but you are free to have as much Halsin as you wish. "

I would have gone on that bear hunt, but he doesn't.

He askes you if you are wanting to sleep with Halsin because he has not been able to meet your sexual needs. And I interpreted that as he's vulnerable and worried he's being replaced for not putting out.

Imagine you had asked your lover to not to look to you for sex for reasons you are working out. They agree and you are just relieved as hell about it.

"You were patient. You cared."

Then they come along later down the line and say they are thinking about having sex with a friend. Where would your mind go?

I would bet hard gold he weighed the options in his head. "If I don't let them do this, they might leave me for good. But if I allow it, they wont have an immediate reason to leave. Halsin is the safest option given his experience."

And what's the best way to feel less awful about a situation we cant control? Create a counter situation where we gaslight ourselves into thinking its fine.

Wheeee!

I'm not saying Halsin's offer was bad, it was perfectly fine, it was just poorly placed in the grand scheme of things. If you and Astarion were having fun again before he suggested being an extra, then it would have been easier to believe he was really fine with it.

If they wanted Astarion to be a poly partner they needed to write it better. Shadowheart makes more sense as pro poly than he does.

So for me, Astarion is a one on one elf.

I am not against polyamory. I am not trying to take representation away. I am not shaming anybody for their choices. There is just not enough specific content to support it fully FOR ME. I was actually excited at the idea of having two partners in my fantasy world. Halsin was very clear and very specific about being on board. Astarion was not. And the choice did not feel right. Add a line somewhere for Astarion where he says "Im perfectly fine with sharing, darling. As long as it is discussed and we are in agreement of course." I will happily be on board with it.

[fizzy-blood]

["Are you lost?"]

Ticci Toby🪓 x GN!Reader (Smut)

Not a request but I'm bored and wanna write something... Idk man. This is definitely going to be way longer than my headcanons because this is an actual story so yk.

18+ Warning

This content includes: Choking ig, Slight degrading, Hatchet fucking (if ykyk), It's one of those "I'll let you fuck me if you let me go after" type things, Dom Toby, Blood kink, kinda public? (Like, you're in the middle of the woods but...), Reader is way to horny lmao, Reader also has a pussy because it's easier to write for me (no gender mentioned tho).

It was a cold, late night. You had been walking through the woods for hours, completely lost. Maybe if you didn't decide that it would be a good idea to go off the path to find cool trinkets and animal bones you wouldn't be walking through the woods feeling like something was watching you. It wasn't all bad though, you did eventually find a lake in a clearing, you could finally see the moon again. The lake was peaceful and still, a small breeze passed by as you stepped out into the moonlight. You sat down on a rock next to the water, still unable to shake the feeling of someone's eyes on you. Little did you know that you weren't being watched by an animal, in fact the person was hiding in a tree nearby. He watched you as you sat down on the rock, staying as still and silent as he could.

He had picked you as his next target, you looked so small from up there in the trees, he couldn't just let you walk out of the woods unharmed. He slowly climbed down from the tree he was in to get a closer look at you. He began to walk towards you as you closed your eyes and sighed loudly, it was clear that you were stressed about being lost. You didn't hear him approach as you were to in your head thinking to hear him.

Finally he was right behind you, he tapped you on the shoulder to let you know he was there. You quickly whipped your head around and scrambled away from him, almost falling in the water as you did so. You looked up to see a scrawny looking man holding what looked to be a hatchet standing over you, he had a mask and goggles covering his face and a hood over his head. His head twitched and your eyes widened as he took a step closer to you, kneeling down and wrapping a hand around your throat. He tightened his hands around you only to immediately let go after the word "H-harder-" slipped out your mouth.

"W-what the ff-fuck?" He said, staring at you with a concerned look on his face, you couldn't see it though since his mask was in the way. "W-what the fuck is wrong with y-you?", you paused for a moment, he took a step back when you didn't respond. "I guess it doesn't matter n-now does it? You-you are going to d-die anyways.." he said with a sadistic look on his face. You looked up at him with a strange look, you were clearly embarrassed from what just happened and didn't really know what to do about the situation you were in. "Wait wait wait! Can't we figure something out?" You stammered. "Like-like what?" He said softly, his voice sent a chill down your spine causing you to blush slightly. This put a very... Interesting image in your head. "Uhhh- you could uhmm..." You sighed, knowing that you were probably going to regret suggesting this "I'll... I'll let you.. fuck me?" You said nervously, your face clearly a bright red. His eyes widened as you said that, clearly intrigued by the idea. "Hmm, You sure you want that? You don't even know my name and you wanna fuck me?" He slowly pulled his hood down and his goggles off, he had hazel eyes and dark brown hair. "If I do will you let me go?" You asked, clearly terrified of him rejecting the offer and killing you.

"Fine, on one condition-"he said, placing his free hand under your chin and tilting your head up,"-you can't tell anyone about this..", you agreed, face still red from asking. He smirked at you and removed his mask, you immediately took note of the large gash on his cheek. "My n-name is Toby, by the way.. feel free to ss-ay it as much as you'd like while we do this~". You basicly died when he said that, reality was going to hit you like a ton of bricks after this but you didn't care.

He got back down to your level as you were still sitting down on the rock, he crawled towards you and lent you a hand, gesturing for you to take it. Once he had ahold of your hand he pulled you in closer to him, he put his hatchet down beside him and held you in his arms. He let out a small laugh as you looked at him, you seemed tense, unsure about how to feel about the whole situation. Toby knew this, so in an attempt to make this a bit easier on you a bit less tense he kissed you. No hesitation whatsoever, he just kissed you. You closed your eyes and leaned in, you wanted this. The idea of the man you were kissing being a literal murderer was reaching out to the most depraved parts of your mind.

He started to become more needy as the kiss continued, he pulled you in tighter, feeling you up through your clothes. He pulled away and started to pull your shirt off. You didn't struggle, Infact, you helped him. Toby seemed confused by your sudden change in mood but he didn't complain. He pushed you onto your back and kissed your neck, causing you to moan at the feeling. "S-so nice, such pretty s-ounds~" he whispered into your ear, "w-whats your name.. I f-for-got to ask y-you...". You looked up at him and said your name, "Such a nice name~" he muttered as he nuzzled into your neck. He began to kiss your neck, nipping at the skin trying to find your more sensitive spots. Finally you let out a small whimper letting him know that he had found it. He began to bite and suck at the skin, listening to every little sound you made.

[Small Time Skip]

You two had been like this for a couple minutes now when you felt something tug at your belt, Toby had started to undo it. He finally let go of your neck so he could take off your pants. You looked down as he finally got them off, you gasped loudly as he began to rub your clit through your panties. "H-holy shit, how are you th-this wet already? Y-you fucking slut, you wanted th-is to-to happen didn't you.." he smirked at you as you squirmed under him. He moved his hand away making you whine at the lack of friction "Answer me o-or I'll st-stop!" He shouted. You quickly nodded, "Yes, I'm a slut, I wanted this to happen~ please- just keep going~". This answer obviously pleased him one way or another because he began to pull down your panties and suck at your clit. "Fuck- T-toby~" you moaned loudly as pulled your thighs up onto his shoulders and started to eat you out. You continued to moan and whimper as he did, placing your hand on the back of his head to pull him in closer.

Your body was so warm compared to his despite your lack of clothes. He could feel your thighs squeeze his head as you inches closer and closer to your orgasms, you were so close that you had started to shake. Just as you were about to cum he took his mouth off of your pussy, leaving you uncomfortable as the cold air touched it. "Why'd you stop..." You whined at him, "I wanted to see your pretty face~" he seemed to like the anger and pain in your eyes. "Don't worry, you'll feel full again soon.." He sighed, picking up his hatchet from the ground. "Calm down sweetheart, I'm not gonna kill you.. I have a better idea~" the sadistic look in his eyes set you off a bit. You watched him move over to the water behind you and dip the handle of the hatchet in the lake, slowly taking it out and wiping the water off with his sweater. "Hold this." He demanded, holding his hatchet out to you, you held it in your hands as you watched him pull his now damp sweater off of his body.

He took the hatchet back, "You ok there? You seem nervous again..". A stupid question really, of course you were nervous, he looked like he was about to kill you. You nodded your head, "Yeah... I'm fine..". Toby crawled on top of you again and lined up his hatchet with your hole, that's when you realized what he was doing, "I really don't need you getting pregnant on me.. after all, I did say not to talk about this with anyone.." he smiled at you.

You arched your back as he began to slide it in, trying your hardest not to moan. You could feel every little detail of the wooden handle as it entered your body, he slowly began to pull the handle out of you and back in again. "That hurts-" he ignored your crys and continued, taking off his belt and pulling his own pants down. You watched him touch himself as you continued to cry and whine from the pain, he seemed to be getting off to it. Soon enough the pain turned into pleasure as your body got used to the hard wooden handle inside of you. He began to rub himself against your clit, you could tell he was hard, it was starting to affect him too much. He continued to rub his dick against you as you whimpered from the feeling, the handle was too hard, too big, and he really wasn't helping with the overstimulation by rubbing against you. Toby placed his free hand on the back of your head again, watching small tears run down the sides of your face from the overwhelming feeling of the hatchet. He began to kiss you again, it was much slower, much softer than the first time. You gave into the feeling and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in closer.

You both continued for as long as you both could handle it. You had placed a hand on his hardened dick and had been jerking him off for a couple of minutes. Finally he came on top of you, he moved his body up a bit out of your reach to watch it slowly drip off of you. Toby had finished, but you were still chasing your orgasm, he could see the pain in your eyes so he decided to do something to ease the pain. You groaned as he pulled the hatchet out, it had a small amount of blood on it now from how hard it was and how much it was stretching you out. You watched as Toby licked the blood off of the handle, his face had a noticeable blush on it, clearly he had been enjoying himself... He was also enjoying the blood a bit to much, maybe he had some kind of a blood kink? You didn't bother to ask him as he placed the hatchet back on the ground.

"Toby? What are you doin-nghh~" You moaned softly as his tongue touched your clit again, it was a nice change from the hatchet, much more soft and warm. You could feel his tongue work through your folds as he licked and sucked at your pussy. It felt like heaven as he licked up the blood that had been slowly dripping out of you. Did it hurt? A little... Did you care? Not really.

He eventually managed to find a sweet spot that was closer to your entrance and began to attack it with his tongue, soothing the pain as best he could. He let go for a moment and placed a finger inside of you and began to move it in and out only to return to your clit so he could still taste you, so wet, so sweet. You squeezed his head in-between your thighs and finally came undone. A wave of euphoria washed over you as he continued. A couple seconds later he finally stopped, he was pleased with how the whole thing had went.

He dressed you and put his sweater back on, picking both you and his hatchet up off of the rocks, carrying you out of the woods. He placed you down next to a tree near the path and sat down next to you slowly falling asleep.

The next morning you woke up peacefully, it was a Saturday so you did have any work. You felt a small pain in your abdomen as you stretched your body, looking over to see Toby's sleeping form next to you. The memories of last night came flooding back to you as your face went red... Did you regret it? Not at all.

HOLY SHIT!! (⁠┛⁠◉⁠Д⁠◉⁠)⁠┛⁠彡⁠┻⁠━⁠┻

I almost lost this whole post over a notification about penises and I really don't know how to feel about that....

Idk, hope you enjoyed it!! -Fizz

[krysmcscience]

Don't mind me, just slacking on a big Billford comic by making other far more ridiculous Billford comics and also some AU art (please excuse my slapdash human!Bill thank you please, also before anyone asks the art style is messy and all over the place because idgaf LOL)

This started out as an excuse to design a Bill Cipher-inspired "wedding" dress, but then spiraled wildly out of control. Various rambles and a bunch more human!Bill arts under the cut, including another silly little comic at the end! (Feel free to skip the rambles, I won't be offended. I know I'm bad at shutting up. XD)

I may or may not write some comedy stuff for this AU, which I'm calling 'For Better Or Worse (But Mostly Worse)'. While Ford DOES remember getting sloshed enough for one thing to lead to making out with another after karaoke, neither he nor Bill remember this wedding, At All. The Love God did nothing to dissuade them from going hog wild on their marriage spending, either, so it got...uh. Exorbitantly Expensive. As in, the grand total could probably buy the entire fucking MOON sort of expensive. (It's fine, don't worry, Bill's good enough at crime to be able to afford it.) Also, because the logic of this AU is mostly dictated by Rule of Funny, the Love God's powers are close to unlimited when it comes to matters of romance, but ONLY when it comes to matters of romance. (Like weddings!)

Want an empty human vessel to smash the soul of a triangle into for date nights or when it's convenient, or perhaps even when it's NOT convenient? Easy peasy! Want the marriage to be recognized in every corner of the multiverse from now until the end of time, thus making any potential future divorce nigh-on impossible? Can do! Want to buy an entire beach for the ceremony and honeymoon and in general, and totally not at all because it would be Super Hilarious to prevent any specific movies from being made on that very same beach in the future? Fine, whatever, it's not his finances he's ruining!

Does the Love God also provide special rings that just so happen to turn incorporeal as long as the "happy couple" doesn't remember that they barged into his dreams to bully him into presiding over their marriage? ...No comment!

He spends the next thirty years trying and failing to get in touch with either of them for payment. This is why you should always demand half the money up front, my guy!

Also it's absolutely a traditional Jewish wedding, because I like the idea of Bill demanding all the keepsakes from the marriage that he paid for, and being completely confused when one of the things he's handed is a fancy container full of broken glass. He gets it later, but in the moment, he thinks the Love God is just fucking with him some more.

Ramble over! Here's the full dress that caused the comic to happen, along with what Ford wound up wearing at the wedding (and begrudgingly agreeing to put on again later for Reasons), aaaaand also a close-up of Bill's ring:

I may have forgotten to draw Bill's hair floofier when drawing the back of the dress, lmao

Since double ring ceremonies have been leaking over into Jewish wedding customs for a while now, Ford also has a ring, but his is the much more traditional plain gold band. There's definitely a message engraved on the inside - embarrassing, cringe, or incriminating somehow - but I haven't decided what it is yet, so use your imagination for now. XD Bill, on the other hand, saw the phrase 'traditional plain gold band' and said "No Thank You" before proceeding to embellish his ring to his liking. And because he's a secret sap who adores Ford's extra fingers, the triangle points add up to twelve, as do the engraved stars. Yes, they're stars, not dots, I just got lazy. There's also six lashes on the eye gem, and probably an eye engraving on the inside with another six lashes. (Bill's got it BAD, okay? We all know this.)

Here are the initial scribbles of Bill's custom vessel in more casual attire, please ignore the wonky anatomy and the fact that I flat out refuse to ever draw him with a proper top hat:

He does actually need a cane in this vessel; since Bill tends to possess men and especially Ford more often than not, he's used to having a higher center of gravity when in a human body, so his ability to balance is pretty garbage. (He may or may not topple over with concerning regularity.) As for his empty eye socket, his bangs don't do much to hide it since he's so high-energy (dude is constantly on the move), and he also refuses to wear a patch over it, because 1.) why bother, and 2.) it's more fun to freak people out.

To better align with Ford's attraction towards the strange, the vessel was designed with super minor shapeshifting ability - Bill can look like a perfectly normal human, but he can also make the teeth and fingers sharper whenever he likes (which is mostly just when he's angry or being more of a menace than usual), as well as slit down the pupils or outright ditch the irises altogether. He can also have whatever he wants in the downstairs department, just because I'm an indecisive bitch on that front, lmao. Maybe he can have boobs if he wants them, too, but I ain't drawin' tits on no triangle, nuh-uh, no sir. His powers are otherwise limited down to what humans can do, because for some reason, the Love God doesn't trust Bill to not snap into Immediate Apocalypse Mode if he's given a physical form that's actually all his and no one else's.

Due to the body being all his and no one else's, it's also not really a standard possession so much as it is just...Bill being temporarily human. He's a lot more aware of and in tune with his human body's senses than he ever was with his "puppets", which makes things like pain a lot more intense. (He is mostly fine with this, because he's a fukken masochist.)

A bit more fashion stuff, including beach and party attire~

The beach outfit was mostly me trying and failing to nail down his body shape, which is still not bottom-heavy enough. I then decided to slap a bikini on it, before making it supremely unsexy with a pair of fugly shorts, because Bill's fashion choices are not allowed to be conventionally attractive. Meanwhile, the party outfit was mostly me looking at the casual attire I designed, asking 'how would Bill make this Worse', and then drawing the result. The mismatched thigh-highs are killing me inside! :D

No, his vessel can't actually summon fire, I just drew it for funzies before I decided on said vessel's limitations. Yes, the gold brick tattoos are absolutely a reference to the fic 'Knowing Me, Knowing You' - I simply could not resist.

I also HAD to draw Bill in one of his canonical(?) shirts, just made tank-top'd:

He is absolutely about to over-correct and fall backwards after this. USE YOUR CANE, GOOFBALL!!! (I meant to draw Bill closer to this degree of bottom-heavy in the other images, but. Alas. I am bad at anatomy, LOL)

And, last but not least before More Comic Time, I attempted to draw him closer to Gravity Falls style:

Jury's out on whether or not I succeeded, but - hey. I tried. Now have some Handyman Bill AU, but with my goofy human design, instead:

Hey, it's a 'mystery snack', and the guy wanted A BITE to eat - the joke was right there, guys!!! (Based on this post, because it just screamed BILL CIPHER to me.)

whoops i forgor bills ring and cracks ahaha too late now

I WILL SHUT UP AND STOP RAMBLING NOW K THX BYYYYYE

[nectardaddy]

OH CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN. . . single dad! meian + f!reader

✮⋆˙ notes/CWs - brief mention of parental death, heavy underlying emotions, meian's a flirt when he wants to be, typos probably

It was all too early for the man that morning, the sun barely even breaking the horizon when his alarm went off. He rubbed at tired eyes the whole morning, fighting off the urge to do nothing more than get back in bed. But he couldn't do that, even if he had the chance - he had more than just himself to take care of. 

His daughter, Himawari, always, without fail, fought him on waking up; and now that it was earlier than normal, it was a complete lost cause. She fought against waking up, fought against getting ready, and fought against going outside because she refused to wear a jacket. But the chill outside turned her off to the idea of going to school all together. Stubborn, and moody from the change of schedule, he had to all but drag her to get in the car - she fought against that too.

They had to get to her school earlier than normal, his schedule clashed with all other times to meet with her teacher - a prerequisite, of sorts, to meet all new families at the beginning of the year - and he finally bit the bullet and asked for a time before school. Thank god her teacher agreed; despite the coaxing and near begging the man had to do to get his daughter in the building to begin with. 

She walked beside him, arms crossed over her chest with a scowl; a rather adorable sight at how small she was and the Hello Kitty bookbag she adorned. (But Meian told anyone who would listen to not let her fool them, she was as devilish as they came.) He shortened his strides whenever he walked with his daughter, he was tall enough that one stride was about three of hers; so he opted for picking her up with a groan. “Come here, you're killing me.” 

She fought against being picked up as well, “put me down!” A loud whine that nearly echoed in the empty hallway, “I don't wanna’ be held right now!” He only sighed as she squirmed against him, but eventually gave up once she realized she was no match. 

“It's not my fault you walk slow,” he groaned, but the smallest of smiles peaked at his lips once he cut his eyes over to her. She pouted, huffed, and did anything she could to make him feel bad; but it didn't work. 

“Maybe you just walk too fast.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Hima.” 

The hallway was long, almost liminal as the doors seemed to never end. Each decorated, or not, which showed the personality of who occupied it. The school was basically empty, besides the few staff members who got to work early on their own free will, and quiet. Quiet enough to hear the small sigh of defeat from his daughter, and she now rested her head on his shoulder. “Dad, I'm tired.” 

“I know.” Good god did he know. “Maybe if you went to bed on time you wouldn't be so sleepy.” 

“But I can't sleep when you're not there,” she sighed again. He felt his heart drop at her words, even though he knew them all too well. Every babysitter he ever had loved the girl, but every single one had never gotten her to fall asleep. The girl refused every time; and if she didn't, she laid in bed until she heard the front door open and shut, and the familiar voice of her father. She would drive herself to sleep deprivation all because Meian wasn't there. “I miss you too much to go to sleep.” 

“I know,” he repeated, much more softly than the latter. Filled with care, and hinted with regret, though he knew he had no other choice but to not be home. Games were important, not like the stray practices he would miss here and there; and the games that were later in the day he unfortunately couldn't bring her to. “I miss you too.” There was a small moment of silence, not knowing what to say as he felt his daughter fidget with the sleeve of his shirt.

The man prided himself with his encouragement skills and wise words, but more often than not he couldn't find them for himself. There was a missing piece to his mind it seemed, gaping and dreary as he wished nothing more than to be a good father - but to him, he always fell short. There were times he wasn't home, important events like school plays and concerts missed from commitments to his team, he couldn't help her with her homework as he wasn't home when she got back because of practice, and the period of time away for nationals felt like a stake through the heart every time it rolled around. 

An optimist with others, but a pessimist with himself. Always falling just shy of what he thought a good parent should be and what a good parent should do. It was utterly exhausting.

Despite his aching heart and rattling mind, he gave her a small smile and desperately tried to change the subject - more for himself rather than her. “Why don't you tell me about your teacher?” 

He heard the girl hum before she lifted her head to look at him with tired eyes. “I think you'll like her,” a tone that finally seemed to melt away the prior attitude. “She's really nice, not like my teacher last year, and she makes crafts with us.” She smiled, the first time that entire morning, “yesterday we read about bunnies and we made plates that looked like bunnies.”

“I know, you brought it home.” He smiled at the reminiscent thought; he came home just after she did, and she all but knocked him down running to show him the plate with construction paper and pom poms glued to it. “I'm actually pretty jealous, ‘sounds fun making bunny plates.” He chuckled, “you think the guys would want to make them?” Hima was well aware of the team he played for, moreover his teammates. She often saw them at the handful of practices and games that he took her to, but more so knew of them through the stories he shared.

She laughed at his question, and he took a silent sigh of relief. “Mr. Hinata might,” she giggled, “but I know Mr. Bokuto would!” The child picked favorites, most definitely; however, her favorite, out of all of them, was Sakusa - and he still had no unearthly reason why other than the dry humor he offered. Every practice he ever brought her to was always met with Hima hanging off of the man, annoying him, and pressing every button Sakusa had - and Meian let her, a silent act of revenge for the consistent arguments he started with Atsumu.

“You're right, he would.” Bokuto was just as childish as she, if not more - he would probably beg the man to make one if given the chance. “Do you want to show him yours later today?” While he didn't plan to take the girl to practice, the sentiment of longing still lingered in the back of his mind; twisted and turned until he felt sick. The awful feeling of thinking he spent too much time away from her returned; and he hoped bringing her with him might mend how he felt, and maybe make her tired enough she would, for once, go to sleep on time. 

“Really?” She asked excitedly. The girl cheered just before continuing on with her child like rambles. Himawari could go on for hours, days really, if he let her (which he more often than not did). She enjoyed talking about just about anything, and would find side story after side story as she went on through her rants. But the man never minded, he found it endearing that the girl had picked up his outgoing attitude. 

He smiled as she continued on, rounding a corner to the hallway that her classroom was on. The school was quite big, a primary school that housed kindergarten through sixth, so every grade level was split into smaller hallways. The man surprised himself that he could remember where to go, as the only other time he went was when she was in first grade. 

“She's really pretty, y'know?” Meian cut his eyes towards the girl, still holding her within his arms, and scrunched his brows.

“Who?” The word laced with confusion as his daughter only giggled again.

“My teacher.” He couldn't help but let a small breath pass his lips, and fought against rolling his eyes entirely. Himawari was prone to talking up the people within her life; which was an admirable trait to have, he was happy the girl wasn't a bully. But she was apt to make the older women around her larger than life - to play matchmaker. The girl couldn't remember her birth mother, she had passed when she was only a year old, but Meian made it a point to consistently remind the girl of her. Consistently reminded her, and himself, they were never abandoned. 

That never stopped Hima from yearning for another woman's presence though. Didn't stop her from the small smiles she would give her father when talking about women much older than she, his age, with an err of playfulness that made him roll his eyes. So to her latter statement he only hummed, “and what do you say about me then, huh?” 

“That you're old.” 

“Ouch-” he rolled his eyes at her nonchalant attitude, “I'm not even that old, Hima.”

“Yeah, ok.” Her sarcastic tone made him sigh, and he thought to himself that maybe he allowed her to hang about Sakusa all too much - his blunt choice of words rubbed off on her in ways he couldn’t imagine. Never rude, but curt replies that never failed to make him groan. But he kept his mouth shut on the topic as he continued walking, and thanked the stars he was almost to his destination. 

“Put me down, put me down!” The girl began to squirm in his arms, desperately trying to escape him to go to her teacher’s room that finally came within their view. The man quickly caved, picking his battles wisely with his daughter’s already flighty mood, and figured it wasn’t all that bad for her to be excited for school - quite the opposite really. 

He watched as his daughter ran through the doorway of the open classroom, and heard a cheery voice greet her from the other side. The voice was light and airy, joy mingling amongst syllables with every word spoken. There was an intent behind it that felt sound, secure - a voice that most definitely belonged to a second grade teacher. 

“Dad said I can bring my bunny plate to his practice and show his friends!” 

“Really? That's so cool, I bet they'll love it.” A small smile peaked on his lips at the woman’s words; although he couldn’t see it just yet, he could practically hear the smile she wore. “Did you get to show your dad yet?” 

Yet. 

The word alone made his steps slow just before he reached the door, letting his pace taper off before completely stopping and he let out a silent breath. It was her job to care, to provide comfort and joy, to create a sense of security and structure - but Himawara had no structure in her life. And it was all his fault, or so he thought. The girl, frankly, never knew her father’s schedule, as it always dialed and changed according to the needs of the team. He desperately tried, at any given opportunity, to cling to time with her - and while he cherished every second, it was never enough. 

He couldn’t help her as much as he liked with homework - yet. He couldn’t pick her up from school most days - yet. And he couldn’t find it within the chasms of his mind to give himself grace - yet. 

“I did! He put it on the fridge!” He wished he could be more like his daughter - happy and unknowing in the reality of real life. A childlike sense of certainty that everything was fine, that one could find joy in everything if they looked hard enough, and an unwavering belief that her father did everything under the sun for her. He couldn’t help but smile softly at the thought, and allowed the burden of ‘yet’ to pass him. 

“Now that's where real masterpieces go,” she mused. “Did you tell him the book we read?” 

“Not the title at least,” he chuckled as he rounded the doorway. “Everything else about it? Absolutely. I could probably quote it to you at this point.” A joke that landed fairly well, as he heard the woman laugh in response, but the comedic energy the man once held was quickly replaced with awe as he leaned against the doorway.

Himawari was wrong, utterly wrong. Her teacher wasn't pretty - she was beautiful.

He felt his stomach lurch to his throat, a brief sensation but one that made him cough. The realization that the woman was his daughter's teacher made him feel rather small, stupid even, and wildly out of his element. He woke up that morning and simply got ready for practice - a slam packed schedule as the practice started just after this meeting would be over - and now he deeply regretted it. 

“‘Morning, Mr. Meian.” He felt like a puddle of the man he once was only seconds ago, before she said his name. A subtle code switch that he picked up on from her - a voice for talking to children, and a voice for adults. He felt his mind go blank and nearly asked her to talk to him as if he were a child, maybe then he wouldn't have been so enamored. 

He couldn't help but linger in the doorway to the classroom, the exposed skin of his arm leaning against the cool wood of the frame. Hands shoved into the pockets of track pants as he watched the woman retrieve papers from her desk. Only then did she meet his eyes and his breath hitched in his throat. She paused for a fraction of a second, her pace stuttering just before forcing her eyes to the ground and continuing on. 

This was terrible. 

“You can come in,” her voice was softer in comparison to her latter statement, nervous even. It made him second guess why he was here in the first place, despite the flicker of his daughter playing with a puzzle on the floor nearby.

“How are you?” He asked, trying to fight against the heat that wanted to surge to his face. He felt silly making small talk, the man always fell flat on his face when it came to it, but felt even sillier if he had said nothing at all. 

“Tired,” she spoke through a chuckle, and he could tell. Behind a, semi, forced smile was tired eyes and a look of exhaustion. It was only Wednesday, and he suddenly felt bad for making the meeting in the first place. “But I'm here. How about yourself?” 

“About the same as you,” he smiled. “Sorry again for wanting this meeting so early, it's the only time that worked.” An apology didn’t seem like it should be enough now that he looked at the woman. Albite pretty, she looked weary, burnt out, and he sensed a twinge of discontent - like she didn’t want to be there in the first place. Groveling may have been a better thing to do, but it wasn’t as if he had a choice in the time he chose. He exhausted all other options from a meticulous schedule that was downright impossible to change.

“Don't worry about it,” she shrugged, “I'm just glad you didn't want it way after school.” 

“Feels like a crime to make you stay that long.” 

“It should be.” She met his eyes again and smiled, one that seemed genuine rather than forced this time. And he watched her eyes flicker to the other side of the room after a moment. “We can sit back there,” she motioned towards a semi circle table in the back of the room. “It's a little cluttered, but it's better than sitting at a desk made for a second grader.” The table didn't seem cluttered in the slightest; occupied with stacks of papers and different containers, each having a different color that he only guessed was for ease of organization. 

She sat down, he followed, and began shifting the papers and containers over, now lining the edges with organized chaos than the latter neat piles. “Sorry,” she chuckled. “They come back here to work with me, so keeping everything neat is almost unheard-of.” 

He let a laugh pass his lips just before he cut his eyes to his daughter, then promptly returned his gaze to her. “Trust me, I know. She'll pull out everything and decide she doesn't even want to play anymore.” 

He felt his heart squeeze when she laughed in response, it was a laugh he could easily get used to, a laugh he wanted to hear more often than just at school. It was gentle, lighthearted, and voluntary - it didn’t feel like a laugh she had to force, as he suspected she did often. His mind kept circling back to the sound as she spoke; he didn’t even realize she had formally started the meeting just minutes ago. His thoughts were the furthest from where they should have been, as he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of her. 

Dazed, seemingly on cloud nine, he didn’t register that she spoke of grades, behavior, and reading level. He simply nodded along as he tried to memorize every detail of the woman in front of him: her eyes were dark and tired, she had smile lines on the sides of her lips, of which he guessed were from years of doing nothing but, her clothes were casual but nice despite the knowledge that children were frankly disgusting, and the side of her dominant hand was stained with multicolored marker, which he only imagined was the set up of a craft for later today. 

“Do you have any questions?” The sentiment jerked him back to the present, and his fuzzy mind cleared quickly once he realized he didn’t register a single thing she spoke about. “Anything you want to add, maybe?”

“When's the next time you're doing these meetings?” The only query that made headway in his mind left his lips at the same time; speaking without thinking, and noticing too late what managed to tumble from his tongue. 

“Conferences?” There was a sense of confusion riddled in her voice; if he were listening, he would have known that his daughter was doing just fine - excelling even. 

“Yeah,” he nodded. And despite his better judgment, he doubled down on the sentiment entirely. “When's the next time I can talk to you?” He watched the woman’s eyes widen, and for a moment he felt like an idiot until he noticed a barely there, bitten back smile. 

“You could always email me?” It was a subtle change in conversation, but one that both picked up on quickly. He was convinced the woman was trying to make his heart stop when she locked eyes with him, a cheekiness to the once serious discussion now diminished. “I respond pretty quickly actually.”

“Do you, now?” He leaned forward slightly, enough to rest his elbows against the table. At first the distance between the two was vast, professional, but he closed the door to professionality and locked it when he leaned in closer to her. She bit the inside of her cheek, still fighting the smile that desperately wanted to bloom on her lips. “That's good to know. But, I feel like I get a million emails every day. I'd never live it down if I missed one from you.” 

“Things happen,” she shrugged with a gentle chuckle. “Did you have a better alternative though?” It was then he realized she wasn’t talking to him like a teacher anymore; instead, the tone had shifted again. This was actually her - not a teacher, not a professional - her. A coy change in the color of her voice that made his heart do flips, but played upon regardless. 

“Getting your number was one.” 

The battle between her and her ever growing smile ultimately ended in defeat at his proposition. Her lips pulled upward in an inviting smile and she cast her eyes to the table, a sheepishness washing over her at the man’s boldness - but she couldn’t deny that she liked it. “It's not every day I give a parent my personal number.” 

“We don't need to talk about school.”

“Then what exactly would we talk about?” 

“If you're free this weekend, or any weekend really?” The question left his lips with ease, despite the nerves that overflowed him when he first entered. He saw her eyes flicker back up to meet his own, catching his gaze once more, to which his heart hammered in his chest. 

“What did you have in mind, Mr. Meian?” 

“We don't have to decide that now,” a cheeky reply as he flashed her a smile. “We have until Saturday to figure that out.”

“I guess we do.” She looked down again, biting at the inside of her cheek, before reaching next to her at a stack of sticky notes. “You better not use this to ask me questions about second grade math,” she teased as she wrote the number down. Her handwriting was pretty and neat, a whimsy to it that matched her job to a tee. Once done, she took it off the stack and handed it to him, their fingers briefly touching as he took it from her. There was a pause when their fingers met; her fingers were cold against his own and it sent a shockwave through him. He could die happy if he was able to feel that again. 

“That sucks. Because I've been really struggling with adding and subtracting.” He broke the brief silence with a boldness, one that looked all too good on him, and he smiled again. She rolled her eyes and laughed at his statement, “I’ll text you later today.”

“I hope you do.”

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