#don’t starve inevitable (musical)

[racetowrite]

Needy

Support a disabled creator

Pairing : Lando Norris x Reader

Tags : lap dance, grinding, unprotected piv (don't be silly, wrap your willy), reader is a former stripper, a little bit of possessiveness from Lamdo, precious husband Lando is so lovely

Word Count : 1.4k

When Lando found out about what you used to do for a living, you’d braced for the worst.

Carlos, his bestfriend that introduced you to Lando, already knew, because of course he did. He met you in a strip club after he won a race. He probably conducted a full background check on you the moment Lando got the idea of asking you on a date. There was no hiding your old life from him, including being a stripper.

You’d known that Lando wouldn’t react badly. You knew he’d never yell at you, call you horrible names, kick you out of the flat. But it didn’t stop the paralyzing fear from kicking in. Of him letting you down easy, telling you that the two of you were just too different, that your morals just aren’t the same. So when you’d told him, you’d braced yourself for the first relationship you’d ever truly loved to go up in flames.

But fuck, you couldn’t have predicted this. For Lando’s eyes to darken as you describe what you used to do for an audience, his gaze dragging down your body in a way that has heat flooding down to your core. He’s silent for a few moments, and it makes you squirm in your seat. He mumbles something under his breath, definitely to himself, but you need to hear it.

“What, Lando?” you ask, steeling yourself against his inevitable rejection.

“Will you show me?” he chokes out, his cheeks flaming red, before he thinks better of himself, his eyes going wide. “Wait, shit, sorry love, no. God, it’s fine, of course it’s fine. I love you, yeah? Nothin’s going to change that anytime soon, I’ll tell you. ‘M just a bit jealous, y’know, in spite of myself, but fuck, shouldn’t have asked that. Just ignore that, yeah? I-”

“Lando,” you cut off his nervous rambling. “You want me to show you?” You can’t help how your voice dips a little deeper, a little raspier, in a way that you know gets Lando all hot and bothered.

“Um,” Lando clears his throat, fiddling with his hands. He won’t meet your eyes. “I mean, who wouldn’t, yeah? Got the most beautiful girl in the entire world, and-”

“You want me to strip for you?” you whisper, nudging his chin up with your hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. His pupils are blown wide, and you watch the motion of his tongue as it just barely wets his lips.

“Please, love,” he rasps, and God, when he begs for you like that, who are you to refuse him?

You rise above him, and his eyes follow you, unable to tear away for a moment. As you stand, you take a long look at him, at the way his cock bulges in his slacks, the way his hands flex helplessly at his sides. Lando doesn’t have control, he’s fucking desperate for it. 

There’s no music, no pumping bass of the club you used to work at, but God, you find that you don’t need it. The heat of Lando’s gaze is more than enough, watching you with bated breath as you undo the buttons of your shirt, one, by one, by one. You let it carelessly drop to the floor behind you, leaving you in just your bra. You don’t own the same frilly bras you used to, from your old life, but Lando looks at you like you’re wearing the sexiest lingerie he’s ever seen.

You toe off your shoes, grateful for the fact that you just wore flats today, and slowly unzip your jeans. There are so many ways that this is so different from how it used to be. You never started your dances in jeans, never danced without music and dark lighting, without the stench of sex and sweat hanging in the air.

You’ve never danced and needed the man in front of you, loved the man in front of you.

The feeling is heady, lust swimming through your veins and pooling in your cunt. You peel your jeans off slowly, letting them pool around your ankles, stepping towards Lando. Lando, whose mouth gapes open just slightly, watching you like he’s starving for it.

You straddle him on the couch, moving your hips over his crotch in a slow grind that has you both gasping. Grinning at the way he watches your body move like water over him, you reach behind you and deftly unclip your bra in a practiced move. You slide it down your arms, throwing it somewhere behind the couch. You grip onto his shoulders to hump into him harder, and Lando’s hands flex at his sides as if he’s unsure what to do with them.

“You know what’s different about this than what I used to do?” you murmur, your lips nearly brushing his.

“Hm?” Lando hums absently, watching your body undulate above him.

You smile down at him. “You actually get to touch.”

Pulling his hands into yours, you mold his hands to your skin, nearly shivering at the feel of them. It’s like Lando snaps out of a trace, groaning softly under his breath as he greedily runs his hands over your naked skin, cupping your breasts and thumbing at your nipples in a way that makes your head spin.

“So- so fucking gorgeous for me, love,” he murmurs, tilting his head up for a kiss. You meet him without hesitation, slipping your tongue into his mouth and drinking him in. You hump into him harder, shamelessly grinding your clit into the obvious bulge tenting the front of his pants. "Can I fuck you?” he gasps into your mouth, “Please tell me I can fuck you, darling.”

You’re nodding before your brain can even think of a proper response, and Lando takes his hands off your body to fumble at the zipper of his slacks, tugging himself out without any kind of finesse. It feels like you’re both teenagers, desperately clawing at each other, trying to get closer, as close as you can possibly get.

You haphazardly tug your panties to the side, letting yourself sink down on his cock, slow enough to let you feel the stretch as he breaks you apart. The moans you both let out as you sink to the hilt are borderline animalistic. The both of you are strung too tight, too needy to take this slow.

“God, you’re so-” Lando punches his hips up into you, making you claw at his shoulders, “so tight for me, my love.” You can only press your forehead to his, meeting his lips in a sticky kiss as you bounce desperately on his cock. He stretches you so perfectly like this, reaching deep inside and the tip of his cock pressing into your g-spot with every thrust. The moans you’re letting out are downright embarrassing, but God, you can’t seem to bring yourself to care.

“How many of them wanted you like this?” Lando grunts against your mouth, meeting you thrust for thrust. “How many of those men you danced for wanted you just like this, bouncing on their cocks like the needy girl you are?”

“Lando, oh my God,” you whimper, letting him guide you as he fucks up into you, his thick hands braced on your hips, holding you tight enough that your skin pales beneath his fingertips.

“You’re mine, darling, no one else gets to have you,” he snarls, in the way he gets when he’s with you, when he’s lost in the feel of you. “This little cunt is mine, yeah? My perfect girl, can’t believe I found you.”

He thrusts into you once, twice, and you’re curling into him, barely able to hold yourself up, as you gush down his cock. You sob his name as he leans forward to press hot kisses down your neck, and you curl your fingers into his hair as you shake through your orgasm.

Lando isn’t far behind, plunging deep into your pussy as it contracts around him, filling you up, claiming you in the most primal way he can.

He holds you on his lap as you both try to come down, keeping you afloat. You lean up to press a gentle kiss to his lips as you finally feel your mind come back to you.

“Have you ever actually been to a strip club, Lando?” you ask, smiling.

“Don’t need to,” he sighs. “Don’t want to.”

You hum. “You might change your mind once you see what I can do on a pole.”

[springtyme]

farleigh start x f!reader

make it based on the party scene where he sniffs the “nose candy” off the girls hand

PLS THE FARLEIGH GIRLS ARE STARVING😫

𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 ♡

Thank you for the request ♡ I know you didn’t asked for smut per se, but I got a little carried away. I hope that’s okay, and hopefully can help feed the Farleigh girls a little ♡

Farleigh Start x afab!reader || Masterlist || Farleigh playlist

summary: You can’t help but feel a rush of conflicting emotions as you stand before him. Part of you wants to turn around and walk away, to avoid the inevitable clash that always seems to occur when the two of you are in the same vicinity. But another part of you, a part that you try to keep buried deep within, is drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

word count: 4.5k

warning/tags: smut! (18+, mdni!) Language. Drug use (cocaine). Vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, blowjob, cum swallowing. Enemies to lovers (kinda?). I had pan4bi in mind when I wrote this, but readers sexually didn’t really end up getting mentioned, but Farleigh is definitely pan/queer like in canon. This whole thing kinda started out as one thing but turned into something completely different, so just to clear any possible confusion. Reader is best friends with Venetia, being childhood friends with her and Felix, and that is how she knows Fairleigh. Reader is enrolled in a university in Cambridge, unlike Fairleigh who is in Oxford. No proofreading.

The dimly lit room is illuminated by a dazzling array of colourful lights, flickering and dancing in sync with the music. The deep reverberations of the bass are sending tremors through your body, a pulsating rhythm thumping within your chest, and even piercing your eardrums, but in the best way possible. 

The scent of spilled drinks and way too expensive perfumes and colognes are hanging in the air, mixing with the distinct smell of sweat that, no matter what, or no matter how rich you are, you’ll never be able to avoid when this many people are in one place, drinking and dancing at once. It’s filling the space with a raw, primal energy, an energy which you can feel resonate within you, right into the very marrow of your bones. 

You find yourself surrendering to the music, letting it guide your every movement as you roll your hips to the beat, grinding against the solid body behind you, enjoying the feeling of big strong hands on your waist. You don’t know his name and you like it that way. You’ve been needing this, it’s finally summer, you’re finally on break and away from Cambridge and you have every intent of enjoying it to the fullest. 

As you let yourself be carried away by the music and the pulsating energy of the room, your eyes wander around the crowd. And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, your gaze meets the eyes of someone familiar, someone you had hoped to avoid, despite knowing it wouldn’t be possible. 

As your gaze locks with his, a mix of emotions floods through you. A wave of annoyance washes over you, quickly followed by a surge of frustration. 

Fucking Farleigh, the embodiment of everything you despise, stands across the room, his tall frame towering over the crowd. He’s always been a thorn in your side, pushing your buttons and challenging you at every turn. The tension between you has always been palpable, a constant battle of wits and wills.

The memories of countless arguments and bitter exchanges flood your mind, reminding you of all the reasons why you can’t stand him. Farleigh, with his arrogant smirk, like he always knows something that you don’t know, and his condescending remarks, has always managed to get under your skin. And now, here he is, invading your sanctuary of escape. 

And yet, and this is something you would never admit out loud to anyone, you have always felt strangely drawn to him, a magnetic pull that you’ve never been able to fully understand. A complicated connection, really, filled with both desire and deep annoyance.

You tear your eyes away, trying to regain your composure and ignore the magnetic pull drawing you towards him. You focus your attention back on the music, trying to lose yourself in its enchanting melody and forget about Farleigh’s presence. The pulsating beats and the heat of the body pressing against yours conspire to distract you, urging you to let go and revel in the moment. You move with more intensity, swaying your hips and allowing your body to glide effortlessly with the rhythm.

But despite your attempts to ignore him, Farleigh’s image persists in your mind, and it is as if you can feel his piercing eyes on you, burning your skin. The curiosity battles with your annoyance, leaving you conflicted and uncertain.

As the music reaches a crescendo, you can’t resist the pull any longer. With a mix of defiance and determination, you break away from the stranger behind you, making your way through the crowd in Farleigh’s direction. Not because you want to speak to him, of course not, you just want to find Venetia, Farleigh just happens to stand right next to the door.  

As you approach Farleigh, you can’t help but notice the way his eyes follow your every move. A flicker of amusement dances in his gaze, as if he knows the effect he has on you. Just as you’re about to pass him, Farleigh steps in front of you, a sly smile playing on his lips, the strobe lights flickering across his face, highlighting his features with pink and purple, and you feel how a warm flutter swoops through your stomach. Someone who is that annoying really don’t have any business being that handsome. 

You try to step past him, but he moves with a frustrating grace, blocking your path once more. “What do you want, Farleigh?” you huff, your tone laced with impatience. 

But he doesn’t answer you at first, instead, he just keeps the weird little dance going, with you trying to push past him to get through the door, and him stepping in front of you, blocking your way, until you finally take a step back, glaring up at him and you can’t help but feel a rush of conflicting emotions as you stand before him like this. 

Part of you wants to turn around and walk away, to avoid the inevitable clash that always seems to occur when the two of you are in the same vicinity. But another part of you, a part that you try to keep buried deep within, is drawn to him like a moth to a flame, and it fucking frustarites you.

His voice, when he finally speaks, is a low, velvety whisper that resonates deep within your core. “Long time no see,” he says, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The scent of his cologne invades your senses, stirring up a confusing mixture of attraction and deep irritation. 

With a deep breath, you muster up all the strength you have and respond, trying to match his nonchalant tone. “I was actually hoping to keep it that way,” you reply, crossing your arms.

Farleigh’s smirk widens slightly, and you can see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Well, that I find a little hard to believe. We are in my house, aren’t we?” he remarks, leaning in closer, his voice dripping with a hint of sarcasm.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, knowing that it would only fuel his satisfaction. Instead, you take a moment to study him. His sharp features are highlighted by the colourful lights surrounding you. Despite your frustration with him, there’s no denying that he has a certain magnetism that draws people in. “I wouldn’t exactly say it’s your house.” You retort, raising an eyebrow. “More like uncle’s house, isn’t it?”

Farleigh chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “Touché,” he says, his voice laced with amusement. “But you can’t deny that it’s my domain.”

You scoff, unable to resist a small smirk. “Domain? More like your little playground.”

His eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of challenge in his gaze. “Funny, because I always thought you were the one who loved a good game.”

The air between you crackles with tension, the familiar dance of wit and banter that has always characterised your interactions. Despite your annoyance with Farleigh, there’s a part of you that thrives on the exhilaration of this verbal sparring. “Maybe I do, but I have no interest in playing with you.”

Farleigh’s smirk fades slightly, replaced by a look of genuine curiosity. “No interest at all?” he asks, his voice laced with a hint of intrigue. “I find that hard to believe. You’ve always seemed to enjoy our little tête-à-têtes.”

You resist the urge to let your guard down, refusing to let him see how much his words affect you. “Just because I enjoy a challenge doesn’t mean I enjoy dealing with you,” you reply, your tone sharp and dismissive.

Farleigh’s gaze intensifies, his eyes searching yours as if trying to uncover a hidden truth. “Is that so?” he says, his voice low and velvety. “Because I have a feeling there’s more to it than that. I think you actually enjoy the tension between us, the push and pull.”

You scoff, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling that his words are hitting too close to home. “You think too highly of yourself,” you retort, attempting to sound unaffected by his observation.

Farleigh takes a step closer, his presence seeming to fill the space between you. “Maybe,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I also think you’re intrigued by me. Admit it, there’s a part of you that wants to know what it would be like to give in to that pull.”

Your heart races at his words, a mixture of anger and desire swirling within you. “You’re delusional,” you snap, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

Farleigh’s expression softens, his eyes searching yours with a newfound tenderness. “Am I?” he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity. The intensity of his gaze leaves you momentarily speechless, your mind racing to make sense of the conflicting emotions coursing through you. You’ve spent so long trying to resist him, to keep him at a distance, but now, in this moment, it feels impossible to deny the undeniable connection between you.

Farleigh leans in closer, his breath warming your ear as he speaks. “You can pretend all you want, but I see right through you.” His voice is laced with a mixture of confidence and mystery that sends a shiver down your spine. Suddenly, all the people around you disappear, the only thing that matters in that moment is the charged tension between you and Farleigh. It’s as if you’re existing in a world of your own, completely detached from reality.

You can’t resist the pull any longer. “Oh, can you now..?” You murmur, slowly, you reach out your hand to wipe a stray piece of glitter away from under his eye, letting your thumb gently graze his cheek. His eyes darken with a mix of surprise and anticipation, his lips parting slightly as if attempting to say something. But before a single word can escape, you close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his in a passionate, desperate kiss. 

Everything around you fades away as the electricity between you ignites, the world falling away as you become enraptured by the intensity of the moment. All the pent-up frustration and desire explode in that single act of surrender and defiance.

In this moment, you can no longer deny the complicated connection that exists between you. The magnetic pull, the mix of desire and annoyance, it all becomes clearer as you lose yourself in the kiss. The room around you becomes a blur, the music and the crowd transformed into mere background noise.

The kiss breaks, leaving you both breathless and gasping for air, but the connection remains. You meet Farleigh’s gaze, a smouldering fire burning in his eyes. And in that silent exchange, the tension and chemistry between you cannot be ignored any longer. 

Farleigh’s lips curl into a satisfied smile, his eyes never leaving yours. “I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he whispers, his voice husky with desire.

You raise an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and defiance in your expression. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” you retort, trying to regain your composure. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

Farleigh’s smile widens, and he takes a step closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “Oh, it means something, alright,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a tantalising promise. 

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, a rush of anticipation flooding through you. As much as you want to deny it, there’s a part of you that craves the excitement and intensity that comes with being with Farleigh. You know it won’t be easy, and there will be challenges along the way, but you can’t help but be drawn to him.

With a mix of determination and vulnerability, you lean in closer, your lips brushing against his ear. “Fine, it does mean something,” you whisper, your voice filled with both defiance and longing. As the words escape your lips, you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. The intensity between you and Farleigh has reached its breaking point, and you both know it. Without saying a word, you take Farleigh’s hand and lead him out of the room and through the big, crowded house searching for a place of solitude, finally finding it in the form of an unoccupied bathroom on the second floor. 

The sounds of the party fade into the background as you step inside, the quietness amplifying the intensity of the moment. Farleigh takes a step closer to you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “Are you sure you want this?” he asks, his voice low and filled with a mix of concern and desire.

You meet his gaze, your own eyes filled with a mix of uncertainty and longing. “I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I want to find out.” 

Farleigh’s lips curl into a knowing smile, the fiery desire in his eyes never wavering. He takes another step closer, closing the distance between you, his hand inching up to gently cup your cheek. You can feel the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin, electrifying every nerve in your body.

In that moment, any last doubt or hesitation you might have felt fades away as the intense pull between you becomes undeniable. You lean into his touch, closing your eyes and letting yourself get lost in the moment. His thumb caresses your cheek, and his voice, filled with a mixture of longing and assurance, whispers, “I’ll make it worth it.”

A surge of anticipation courses through your veins as Farleigh’s thumb brushes against your lips, tracing their outline with a delicate touch. Without even thinking, your own hand finds its way to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. The air around you is heavy with desire and expectation.

As your lips collide once again, the passion between you ignites, consuming you both in a fiery haze. The bathroom echoes with the rapid beating of your hearts and the soft gasps that escape your lips. Farleigh’s kiss is both tender and intense, his lips moving against yours with a fervour that matches your own. This single act of surrender has unleashed a whirlwind of emotions, leaving you craving more. 

You start to walk backwards, until your back gently bumps into the vanity cabinet of the sink, without breaking the kiss even once. You first break the kiss as Farleigh’s hands find your hips, helping you jump up the counter. Your already short dress, hiking even higher up your thigh as you spread your legs to let him step in between them. “You got any nose candy?” you pant, making Farleigh chuckle, his breath warm against your lips as he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. 

“I think you already know the answer, don’t you?” he replies, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and desire. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small vial of white powder and setting it on the counter.

He carefully measures out a small amount of the powder, offering it to you on the back of his hand. You take a deep breath, feeling a rush of nerves mixed with excitement. With only a very short flicker of hesitation, you lean in, snorting the powder through your nose. The effects are immediate, a surge of warmth and euphoria washing over you.

Farleigh takes your hand, putting the vial to it to make a line for himself, but you stop him before any of the coke has left the container. “No, here.” You say, placing your hand behind you on the counter and leaning back, exposing your bare collarbone, inviting him to snort the line off your skin. Farleigh’s eyes widen, clearly liking your suggestion, his gaze locked on the vulnerable expanse of your skin before a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips, lining up a stripe for himself.   

As he leans in, his breath tickles your skin. His fingers, delicate and precise, trace the line of the cocaine on your collarbone before he leans down, his lips brushing against your skin as he inhales the white powder. A shiver races through your body at the touch of his lips against your sensitive skin, the combination of the drug’s rush and Farleigh’s proximity sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You both linger in this moment, caught between desire and the heightened state induced by the substance. Everything in the bathroom seems to fade away as you focus on the connection between you and Farleigh - the electric current that flows between your bodies, the shared need for a temporary escape. Farleigh pulls back, his eyes dark and heavy with desire as he locks his gaze with yours. 

“Come here,” you all but moan, making him chuckle. The lingering scent of his luxurious cologne fills the air, prompting you to inch closer on the countertop, savouring every breath of him. You reach out, pulling Farleigh closer as you crash your lips together once more, the kiss growing even more passionate and heated than before. And as the kiss deepens even more, Farleigh’s hands start to explore your body, one trailing up your thigh while the other gently cups your cheek. Your own hands roam eagerly over his frame, feeling the heat and power emanating from him.

The bathroom becomes a blur of sensations, the feel of his hands on you, the taste of his lips on yours, the intoxicating scent of his cologne surrounding you. Time seems to lose all meaning as you lose yourself in the moment, giving in to the intoxicating combination of pleasure and desire. As he finally breaks the kiss, his lips trail a path down your neck, leaving a trail of sweet kisses in their wake. The heat between you builds with each passing moment, every touch and caress leaving you craving for more.

As Farleigh’s lips find their way to the sensitive curve of your collarbone, you let out a soft gasp, a jolt of pleasure shooting through your body, his touch igniting a fire within you. His hands roam over your thigh, inching higher and higher, until he reaches the delicate fabric of your now soaked panties, carefully teasing and brushing against your most sensitive area. Your breath hitches in anticipation as his touch sends a surge of arousal coursing through you.

Unable to contain your desire any longer, you guide his hand to where you need him most, sliding your panties to the side. His fingers waste no time in exploring, gently parting your slick folds and finding your throbbing clit. Soft moans escape your lips as he circles his fingers around your sensitive bud, the pleasure building with every stroke. “Damn, you’re so wet,” he whispers huskily, his voice laced with desire. His fingers skillfully dance along your swollen nub, expertly coaxing you closer and closer to the edge. 

The bathroom becomes a sanctuary of pleasure and intimacy as Farleigh expertly works his fingers, gradually increasing the rhythm and pressure. You tilt your head back, surrendering yourself completely to the ecstasy flooding your senses. You arch your back, pressing yourself closer to his hand, eager for more. The need for release consumes you, the overwhelming sensation heightening with each passing second. Farleigh, ever attuned to your desires, gives you exactly what you crave. His fingers quicken their pace, increasing the pressure against your throbbing clit, using his other hand to push, first one, then two, fingers into your craving cunt, pumping into you, while still working your clit. 

Lost in the blissful haze, you feel your walls tighten around his fingers, signalling your imminent release. Every touch becomes electrifying as you chase that elusive peak. And when the wave of pleasure crashes over you, it’s all-consuming. Your body trembles with the force of your orgasm, your moans echoing off the bathroom walls. 

“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he whispers, his voice raw with desire as he continues to ride out your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure with his skilled fingers. He keeps his touch steady and relentless, expertly drawing out every ounce of bliss from your pulsing core. It’s a relentless dance of pleasure and sensation, leaving you gasping for breath as the ecstasy courses through your veins.

Farleigh withdraws his fingers, the absence of his touch leaves you yearning for more. He brings them to his mouth sucking off your juices. “Fuck… you taste good, I think I need to get a better taste, baby” he smirks. 

“Please, Farleigh,” you hate that you’re begging, but fuck how you need more of him. “N-need more…” you squirm a little in your seat, squeezing your thighs together in anticipation. Farleigh smirks again, unlike you he is clearly very glad to hear how pleading and desperate you are for him. 

He sinks to his knees before you and slowly pulls your soaked panties down your legs, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable before him all the while keeping eye contact with you. Without a word, he leans in, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin. His lips brush against your inner thighs, teasingly light and gentle, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you. As his mouth moves closer to your throbbing core, you grip the edge of the counter, desperately trying to steady yourself. 

The anticipation is almost unbearable, the teasing kisses and licks making you ache for more. Finally, his lips press against your clit, his tongue immediately finding its rhythm as he expertly swirls and flicks, drawing moans of pleasure from deep within you. Each flick of his tongue sends shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, building the pleasure to dizzying heights. He alternates between delicate licks and sucking motions, knowing exactly how to drive you wild. The sensation is overwhelming, and you lose yourself in a haze of pleasure. 

The sounds of your moans fill the room, your pleasure echoing off the walls. You can feel the pressure building inside you, your climax approaching rapidly. And just when you think you can’t hold on any longer, the dam breaks, and you surrender to the powerful waves of your orgasm. Stars explode behind your closed eyelids as your body convulses with pleasure, your voice reaching heights you didn’t know were possible. 

Farleigh doesn’t let up, continuing to lap at your sensitive clit, prolonging your ecstasy until you’re completely spent. As the waves of pleasure subside, he pulls away, a satisfied grin on his face as he looks up at you, his lips glistening with your essence. You struggle to catch your breath, your entire body still trembling from the intensity of your release as Farleigh gets up from the floor. You close your eyes for a second, as you take in the reality you’re living in now, a reality where you have been eaten out by Farleigh fucking Start, and now in this moment you almost can’t recall why you ever disliked him.  

As your body slowly comes down from the heights of pleasure, you open your eyes again, breathing heavily, to find Farleigh staring at you with hunger in his eyes. His own desire is evident, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. Reaching out, you grab hold of his shirt, pulling him closer. “Your turn,” you say, your voice vibrating with anticipation.

A mischievous smile plays on his lips as he realises what you have in mind. Without a word, he unbuttons his shirt, revealing a toned chest. He shrugs off his shirt, allowing it to fall to the floor as he confidently steps out of his shoes. Every movement he makes is deliberate, a display of raw sensuality that only intensifies your desire for him.

With a mixture of excitement and confidence, you jump down from the counter and step toward Farleigh, your legs feel like jelly, but you don’t let that stop you. Your hands find their way to the waistband of his trousers, fingers skillfully unfastening them. As his trousers pool at his feet, you run your hands up his muscular thighs, feeling the contours of his body beneath your touch.

Your gaze flickers upward, locking eyes with Farleigh, the intensity in his gaze mirrored in your own. Without breaking eye contact, you drop to your knees, fully engulfed in the moment. You trail kisses along his inner thighs, teasing and taunting him. His breath hitching with every kiss, the anticipation in the room building with each passing moment.

As you reach his hardened cock, you wrap your fingers around him, feeling his heat and the pulsing desire that emanates from him. He is big; girthy, with a nice vein lining the underside of his shaft. Your tongue flicks out to taste him, eliciting a low growl from his throat, before you pool spit in your mouth, letting it fall from your mouth and down his shaft. With a combination of skill and eagerness, your mouth encloses around him, the heat and wetness enveloping him. 

As your lips slide up and down his length, you can feel him growing even harder, his breaths becoming more ragged. You use your hand in synchronisation with your mouth, working him tirelessly, determined to bring him to the brink of release, moaning around his cock while breathy praises leaves his mouth.

The bathroom becomes a symphony of moans and heavy breaths as the pleasure builds between you. Your lips and tongue work magic, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. And when he finally succumbs to the overwhelming ecstasy, he spills himself into your waiting mouth, his moans of pleasure echoing off the bathroom walls.

You take him in, savouring the taste of him as his release warms your mouth as you swallow him up. It’s an act of trust and vulnerability, something you, just an hour ago, could never have imagined to be between the two of you. As he finally catches his breath, his hands gently lift your chin, guiding you back to your feet.

Your eyes meet, a shared understanding passing between you. “You know, uh…” you start, Taking in a deep breath. “Venetia asked me to stay for a bit, I’ll be here at Saltburn for the next two weeks.” you whisper, letting the implication of your words hang in the air for a moment.

Farleigh’s eyes widen with surprise, a mixture of excitement and hope flickering in his gaze. He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your cheek. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you can see the longing in his eyes.

“Two weeks?” he repeats, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and anticipation. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

You smile, a mix of mischief and desire in your gaze. “I’m saying that we have two weeks to explore this... connection between us,” you reply, your voice filled with a tantalising promise. “But let’s make one thing clear, Farleigh. This doesn’t mean that I like you now,” and you hate how it isn’t really true. 

Farleigh’s smile widens as he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. “I guess I have two weeks to change that.”

Thank you for reading! If you want, please leave a comment or reblog to let me know what you thought of it ♡

[ghostbustting]

╰┈➤“𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑴 𝑨𝑺

𝑫𝑨𝒀𝑳𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻„ ๋࣭⭑

Contest by My Lovely Lovely @mustainegf ♡

Dave Mustaine x Reader

Content Contains: Purely Fluff.

The warm water starts running down the shower head, hitting my body as I let out a small sigh in relief of finding a source of warmth ever since last night, not to mention being in this freezing season, the soap running off the skin of my body along with the water, cleaning off whatever bacteria was on me. My gaze start to drift around the bathroom I hadn't gotten the chance to see before, new to the look of my surrounding, new to the scent of soap and shampoo he had allowed me to use, new to the taste of the toothpaste he usually use on his own teeth.

Just last night, I was partying like a fucking party animal, music taking control of my body, drunkenness consuming my state of mind like an inevitable disease from all those booze I might or might have not regret taken. With my fucked up state, I really did have no other choice at all but to go to the nearest house I knew, it was a good thing he let me sleep in his room, making himself sleep on the couch instead.

Dave Mustaine.

Mustaine has been a mutual friend of mine, being introduced by a close friend of mine that was also a bandmate of his from Megadeth not long ago. We weren't that close. At least that's what I thought. I supposed when I first lay my eyes on that redheaded boy, I couldn't really place what my mind think about him.

I thought he was just another rock star. A famous one, sure. Yet the moment I got to know him.. he was.. interesting, to say the least. Fucking charismatic, to say the most. It's almost as if every time he does or say something in front of me, his charm was trying to light up a flame in my heart that no one ever did since a long time ago. My eyes can’t help but always look his way whenever he’s around, my breath became uneasy whenever our skin touches even if it was just a millisecond, butterflies always found their way into my stomach each time I hear his voice say my name, each letter he let out acting as a sweet lullaby to my ear.

But, god no. He’s a fucking idiot.

He had the cockiest smirk ever, one that make me want to punch his face again and again to wipe it off. My, don’t even mention the stupid jokes he like to make, or the way he play with his hair every single second like he was a shampoo brand model, or the way he roll his eyes every once in a while when he’s annoyed, or the way he flirt with every single hot chick that put their skins on display for him. How could one even find interest in him? He’s a literal buffoon!

Why am I even thinking of him?

My head shook to snap myself out of my thoughts while drying up the wet skin of my body using one of his spare towels, dabbing the soft fabric over my body as it captures the water on me. Once I’m done, I put on his clothes that I borrowed, having some extra layers of fabrics on my body as a shield for me to deal with the sharp coldness of yet another day in the winter season, despite how odd I always looked when buried in thick layers of clothing. Better than trying to tough out the cold.

I make my way out of the bathroom, my hands focusing on braiding my hair while I continue to step forward through the hallway of his house, eventually finding myself entering his kitchen, having enough of hearing the endless grumbles of my starving stomach, and if he won't feed his.. 'guest', then I will feed me myself.

My hands starts rummaging through his kitchen. Starting from the cabinets, to the counter, to the fridge. I groaned as my other hand hold my stomach, the starvation was really getting to me, perhaps it was the hangover.

"What the fuck are you doing to my kitchen?"

My body spun around quicker than expected, my hands closing the fridge behind me as I put on my widest smile for the confused Dave Mustaine who standing before me, acting clueless as if I wasn't just doing an investigation in his kitchen just a second ago.

Moving away from the fridge, I shook my head with a nervous chuckle, "Nah, nothing." I answered, grabbing my bag and moving past him, "You should really uh.. buy some groceries though. Starvation do cause death, buddy." I awkwardly pat his shoulder as I walk past him, making my way out of his not so helpful kitchen.

Before I could move even further, my wrist was caught to stop in a gentle grasp of Dave's hand, a simple touch of his hand causing a lump to build up in my throat, my cheeks turning the slightest bit pink. How I hate the way I love every single interaction between us. I love them all too much, perhaps.

And that's a stupid thing to do. Because no matter how much I love every time we talk, every time we touch, every time we look at each other, I can never bring myself to make an act or do something about it. I always thought I was completely out of his circle of interest, nothing like those groupies. Again, not like it matters.

Slowly, I begin to turn around to face him, my eyes at once meeting his own yet again. God bless him for having those hazel eyes. "Where are you going?" Dave ask me, tilting his head just the slightest bit.

"Uh.. home?"

He let out a small sigh and let my wrist go out of his grasp, crossing his arms over his chest instead as he spoke, "I don't think that's possible." He shrugged his shoulders, looking away, his gaze fixated on one of the windows while his hand rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "It's snowing pretty bad outside. Can't even open the door. There's snow all over the doorsteps."

My eyes widens, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, "What?! But I need to go home!" I protested, an annoyed groan leaving my lips shortly after.

Dave let out a chuckle, his lips creating a wide mocking grin at me while he took a step forward, "Well, be my guest if you want to freeze to death out there." He spoke, a hint of teasing in his voice as he look down at me, "Your corpse, not mine."

My eyes rolled, annoyance painting my face as a desperate cover of how much I want to crumble down to the floor from the way he was looking at me. "Gonna die of hunger anyways." I huffed.

There's absolutely no way in hell am I staying away from my home any longer than I have been, not to mention this starvation is getting way harder to handle, I feel like I could faint any seconds now if I don't have some appetizing food in front of my eyes. How many times do I have to mention how hungry I am?

I click on my tongue, tapping my foot on the floor as my eyes wander around the house, thinking of another way to get out of this place. All I needed was to go home, eat, and sleep till this season is done and the sun will shine my way again.

I tilt my head, an idea sneaking it's way into my mind, "You know what?" I sigh and start walking towards one of the windows, hearing footsteps that belongs to Dave following behind me closely. I gaze out the window, seeing the amount of snow covering the pavement outside. He really wasn't exaggerating at all.

I start placing my foot up on the window, "I'm gonna get more layers of clothes, I'm gonna open this window, I'm gonna climb out, and—"

"Nu-uh. No way." He shook his head and grab me by the arm now, his grasp slightly firmer compared to the one he had on my wrist earlier. "Did you not hear me? You're no Jack Frost, you'll kill yourself!"

Dave started dragging me away from the window, making me groan while I try to keep up with his steps, "No, you said be your guest! And— wait.." I cut myself off as I slowly smile and look at him, making him raise one of his thick eyebrow in confusion. "You watch Jack Frost?!" I laughed out loud, almost tripping on air, "God, you're a dork."

"Shut up." I hear him mutter, scoffing.

That same smile stays on my face, trying not to let out more laughter at the thought of tough metal frontman Dave Mustaine watching Jack Frost in his free time, eating cereal as he do so. I can't help but think it's adorable. I can help but think he's adorable.

By the time I snap myself out of my thoughts, he had dragged me all the way into his bedroom, the hold his hand had on my arm staying firm and strong while he took me to the bed, grabbing my shoulders and pushing me down to sit on the edge of the bed. I look up at him in confusion.

Meanwhile, Dave stared back down at me, eyes locked with mine, lips slightly parted with his hands still on my shoulders for awhile. There was something hidden behind his eyes, an emotion I haven't seen from his hazel eyes before, an emotion that seemed to be desperately hiding behind all those toughness.

That look he held in his eyes evaporated into thin air when he shook his head and took a step back from me, "Just.. stay here. Keep yourself warm." He told me. I watch closely as his body turns around from me and his legs start leading him out of the room.

"Wha—”

”I’ll be back!”

There really was nothing else for me to do as I watch him leave the room— practically sprinting, leaving me in this bedroom I’ve spent the night in, this bedroom I’ve oddly find myself getting comfortable in. His bed was comfortable and surprisingly clean, I have only realized it now as I run my fingertips over the mattress below me, too drunk to appreciate the amount of comfort his bed granted me with last night. And also too drunk to notice the surrounding of the room before, a room I’ve never been in before last night.

Now that I’m sober enough to control my mind, I slowly stood up from the bed and take a walk around the room, my eyes gazing at every single detail I could spot in this bedroom of his. The pack of Marlboro cigarettes resting on his bedside table, a stack of papers — which I assumed were lyrics he wrote— next to the pack of cigs, his wardrobe slightly opened with clothes peeking in it, his landline phone, the view of snow falling down endlessly outside the window.

It took me quite awhile. It took me about five minutes of staring out into the snow outside to finally get it in my head what was happening now.

Dave. And I. In his house. Just the two of us. Away from the chaos of the world, away from a third presence between us, away from the freezing cold weather, away from the usual distance that would build itself up between us. Yet of course he won’t know it. Of course he won’t know that this, being in the same house as him, was something I wish I could cherish forevermore. Something I wish is way more big of a deal than what it actually is. Just a delusional coincidence.

Yes, I was trying to push those thought aside, trying to think of him like another asshole rockstar to avoid being influenced by. But my heart was louder than my mind. There was really no more hope for me. My heart was completely absolutely infinitively messed up by him, full by all the little things I’ve noticed about him. My heart has been set on fire by that same charm I said he had. There’s only two things that could set that fire down; love.. or heartbreak.

He’s a man, majority of them are too blind to see the amount of emotion you’d hand out to them in the palm of your hands, walking pass you like you were just another beating heart. If only they he knew this heart of mine don’t beat normally around him. If only he knew the way my heart felt like it was about to jump out of my chest even when he only walk by.

I was snapped out of my thoughts shortly when the door opened yet again. Turning around, I was met by the sight of Dave himself, walking in with a tray filled with s’mores and two cup of hot chocolate, tiny marshmallows swimming in those cups while he gently set the tray down on the bed, his body moving to sit on the soft mattress.

Taking his gaze on me as a silent invitation, my own body moved as well to sit back down on the bed, just slightly close to him, still making sure to keep my distance. I look down at the tray while he spoke, “You said you were hungry? Here you go.” He beckoned to me towards the tray, indicating he wanted me to eat the s’mores.

A small smile slowly trails back into my face as I look up at him and a soft chuckle escapes my lips, feeling flattered by his instinctive thought. “Thanks. Really. I thought I’d pass out.” I sigh in relief, taking one of the s’mores.

I feel his gaze staying on me as I take a big bite of the s’mores, making a muffled hum from the delightful taste of the s’mores. Looking up, I see his face scrunched up in some sort of concern as I chew on the food, muffling out a quick, “It’s really good!” with a wide smile on my face as I use my free hand to give him an approving thumbs up.

Slowly, his own lips starts to curve up into a smile, a sparkle of joy seen within those eyes of his, “Yeah? You think so?” His smile only got wider by the time I nodded my head in confirmation, a small chuckle leaving his lips.

Seeing that smile on his lips, knowing it was meant for me.. God, I really shouldn’t feel this way..

I set the s’mores back down on the tray and look down at my hands, my mouth still busy on chewing, my fingers fiddling with the hem of the sleeves on the sweater Dave borrowed me. A wave of silence washing over the both of us. It was oddly comfortable, a peaceful quiet moment, the taste of s’mores on my tongue, feeling his presence next to me.

My eyes glances to my side, spying on his own pair of hands, finding them fiddling with the fabric of his shirt the same way I’m doing to mine, our hands moving in sync, a reflection to one another.

My hands slowly come up to be on each of my arms instead, rubbing my freezing skin through the layers of clothes on me, desperately seeking for any hint of warmth despite already being buried by thick clothes, the cold was way too strong than last night.

"Cold?"

The sound of his voice caught my attention, looking up his way with a raise eyebrow before glancing to the window, the snow still covering the view outside, an icy sight of an obviously cold winter day. "It's winter.." I slowly spoke, as if the fact wasn't clear enough.

"Right.." He nodded and looked back down, his voice quiet in an embarrassed manner.

God didn't prepare my mental enough for an awkward interaction. Let alone an awkward interaction with Dave Mustaine. Seeing him acting quiet for once, looking down like a nervous boy, it only made my feelings harder to contain. He was acting strange. By now, I thought he would’ve make an idiotic comment. But no.. It’s just silence.

I can't help but wonder.. what was on his mind? What was his heart feeling? What was that emotion hidden behind his eyes? What am I in his vision? The thoughts fogs up in my mind, hard to blow away, demanding to be answered. Meanwhile deep down, in the deepest core of heart, I am in a war. In a war between embracing this odd feeling of mine for him, or pushing that feeling away, avoiding it like it was just a clumsy mistake.

He was making it hard. Sometimes he seemed so close. Sometimes he seemed to be so far away.

To be fair, love itself is hard to define.

”So..” I started, looking down at the cup of hot chocolate I had previously grabbed in my hands, watching the way the marshmallows floats around the chocolate liquid. “How long do you think till the snow calm down?” I ask, my voice soft as I raise the cup up to my lips, taking a sip of it, releasing the cup with a sigh from the warmth introduced to my lips.

Dave looked up at me and grimace, his shoulders shrugging yet again. “I don’t know.” He spoke, eyes darting down to his hands yet again, his lips letting out a small mumbled “Sorry.”

This time, it was my turn to look back up at him, eyebrow raised up in confusion to why he apologized out of nowhere, confused by this new demeanor of his. There was something strange and unfortunately I’m no Sherlock Holmes enough to find out what it is. Slowly, I ask, “Why are you saying sorry? You can’t control the weather.” I chuckled out awkwardly.

A sigh leave his lips, that same unreadable look filling his pupils, his legs moving to cross themselves on the bed. “I’m not the best at having a girl over… casually.” He chuckled as well, grunting as he let his back fall to lay down on the soft mattress.

Casual.

I had to force my own lips to smile, a laugh coming from the back of my throat as I slowly let my body rest on the mattress as well, laying down next to him, a distance still between us. Unfortunately. “Really? Just because I’m here, a girl, and a casual friend? You have a lot of friends that are girls!” I spoke.

”Well yeah, because they’ve been close with me for years. But you..”

”Yikes, is it because we just met last year?”

Still, I try to laugh the situation out, something I shouldn’t have done. Because all I got in return was the same silence from earlier. That silence that seemed peaceful yet torturing at the same time. I never thought I’d wish Dave Mustaine would start rambling out his randomness till I discover this silence he can bring.

My eyes were on the ceiling, watching the lightbulb of his room flicker the slightest bit, the taste of hot chocolate lingers on my tongue, while I could feel a pair of eyes set on me, watching every single little movements I do. The feeling of his gaze on me makes my face felt like being burnt, heating up like a stove, while my heart beats hard and fast like the drums in his songs.

"...You feel different."

Slowly, my head turns to the side, cheek against the bedsheets as my eyes stares back at his, a confused look on my face, a question leaving my lips in an unsure, soft tone, "Different? What exactly do you mean?"

I hear him sigh, this time he was the one that looked away and up at the ceilings. His mouth stayed quiet for awhile, I could tell he was thinking of something very very slowly, being very careful with his thoughts. He was readable, yet hard to expect at the same time. There's not really a definitive word to use to describe him.

"You're.." He started, his words trailing off before he slowly start again, taking a deep inhale in advance, as if he was about to say something that could either be his life or death. Maybe he was.

Dave kept his eyes on the ceilings, as if he was afraid to look back into my eyes, he start to speak, "You're so.. wonderfully you.. In a way.. like.. God, what the fuck am I talking about and why can I not think of a single word?" He cursed to himself, rolling his eyes as he rubbed his temples using his fingers.

"See, that's what you fucking do to me." He say, his voice somehow staying soft despite the curses he spoke out, "You know me, I'm no man to stutter and rethink my words before I spit them out, but you— you make me want to do, say, and be the right thing as if it even means anything to you, because I do know for a fact that in your eyes, I'm just another dirtbag rockstar and not—"

"WAIT!" I blurted out, my hand darting out to grab his shoulder and stop him from continuing his ramble. While trying to ignore the unstable beat of my heart, I say, "What exactly are you talking about? Slow down."

This time, Dave look away from the ceilings, his gaze darting to the hand I had on his shoulder first before finally meeting my own gaze, the ice that was trying to hide whatever emotion he had in his eyes starting to melt very slowly, the emotion held in his pupils becoming much more clear to look through. Yet still not bold enough to make it clear what he was feeling.

Both of my cheeks were heating up more than it ever did, I didn't even need to look to know it was probably red as fuck by now. My fingers were fiddling with the sweater still, unable to stop, unable to be controlled. My eyes lingers on Dave, waiting for him to continue.

I waited patiently for another single letter to escape his lips, but they never did.

He didn't talk.

He acted.

It took my mind quite a few minutes to realize what was happening. His body hovering over my own, trapping me, his left hand on my hip, his right hand on my cheek, the scent of his shampoo the intoxicating my brain, meanwhile the sweet taste of hot chocolate on his lips meets the taste of hot chocolate on my own lips, soft. Gentle. He was slow with his lips, only moving the moment I had pressed mine back onto his. What I know we would’ve been a few clothes off by now if I had been a groupie, here on his bed with him. But I wasn’t. I was just a girl who was lucky enough to be friends with Marty Friedman who was generous enough to play cupid and introduce me to Dave Mustaine.

Before this, my heart would feel heavy. Something lingering and longing inside it, something wanted to be expressed and set free, a feeling I thought was dangerous for myself to embrace, a feeling I forced myself to suppress, trying to keep it safe and sound inside my little heart that I fear of being broken. But instead, the feeling of keeping in an emotion inside my heart.. an emotion so wild.. an emotion so deep.. it makes my chest feel heavy whenever my gaze lands on him, denying the feels he gave me.

Yet here we are, our eyes shut and our lips connected, our hands over each other— trying to hold onto the reality we fear is an illusion, our souls connecting to one another, the warmth radiating off his body and into mine, almost coating me completely with that warmth. A warmth of care. A warmth of possible love. A warmth as warm as daylight, shielding my body and my heart away from the cold winter day.

I don’t know who this man was. But I sure love him more than the Dave Mustaine he put on display in public.

By the time his lips stops moving, his head slowly pull away from mine, giving a few more extra inches in the distance of our faces, his eyes wide as if he had seen a ghost, his lips parted, the skin of his cheek reddening more as the seconds go by, almost as red as the strands of his hair that I have in my fingers now, twirling some of the strands around my finger. Our eyes never broke their contact while our hearts beat in unison, seeing love along with my reflection in his eyes.

Slowly, he let his body fall limp on top of mine, holding my body in his arms. ”Holy.. shit..” His words came out, a tone of disbelief. Slowly, my lips curls up into a big smile, one I cannot contain, one so wide my cheeks would’ve hurt if it wasn’t for the warmth in my heart consuming my whole body.

”What?” I laughed softly, stroking his hair.

I can feel him shake his head in the crook of my neck, his hair tickling my skin, making me smile wider than I already was. “Nothing,” His lips mumble against my neck, holding me against him, “It’s just.. I think winter is my favorite season now.”

For awhile, I felt that the saying of ‘heaven is a place on earth’ is actually understandable, for I feel that I was in heaven at the moment in this little moment of ours, my heart beats so hard at it’s own that I could barely utter out a word, and I seem to find the happiness I seek, right here, right when I’m in his arms, the cold of the weather abandoned like an old news.

”Only when you’re here.”

[halfhissandwich]

What your favorite Sanders Sides episode says about you because I’m binging the series rn and I wanna do this. All of this is a joke, I’m just being silly

My True Identity: Wow look at the fun little identity crisis series! Would be a shame if this goes downhill, right? Yeah, that’s what denial of the inevitable sounds like.

Way Too Adult: I’m willing to bet you’re a fan of the Unsympathetic Patton stuff. Just the vibe I get.

Taking on Anxiety!: I’m so sorry for the atrocities that have occurred in this fandom regarding Virgil. All you wanted was a sassy little emo boy and the fandom made him the embodiment of uwu, I’M SO SORRY-

A New Year of Lying to Myself… In Song!: You just like the song. I feel you, I like the song too.

The Dark Side of Disney!: We meet again, prinxiety shippers. :)

I’m in a Disney show!: Your favorite character is C!Thomas.

The Mind vs. The Heart: I won’t say you’re a logicality shipper… but if they got married, you definitely wouldn’t complain.

Dad’s Big Game Day Tips: … Daddy issues. I’m sorry, it needed to be said.

Alone on Valentines Day: I don’t have a joke here, but I’ll just say that my first thought was “aromantic”, so take that as you will.

Losing My Motivation: Oh my gosh. We get it. Logan is wonderful. That’s the 5th PowerPoint you’ve made today. Please just let me go home.

Q&A: You want an updated one. Me too, buddy, me too.

Am I Original: Going back and rewatching this video after POF makes you cry every single time.

My Negative Thinking: Hey analogical shippers, how are you doing? Still starving? … anyway let’s do some more logicality and prinxiety, shall we? :)

Growing Up: You’re everything that the people who’s favorite episode is “Losing My Motivation” are, but for Patton, and you don’t understand why the fandom thinks he’s kind of problematic.

Making Some Changes: *obnoxious chanting* LAMP LAMP LAMP LAMP LAMP LAMP LAMP LAMP LAM-

Becoming A Cartoon: … I won’t say anything. I won’t crush your dreams. I’ll just observe, smile, nod and just move on.

Accepting Anxiety: I don’t blame you, a lot of work was put into that episode. By the way you know you can ship prinxiety platonically, right? You can like it platonically without liking it romantically, I-I hope you know that-

Fitting In: You’re actively choosing to ignore drama online and I’m impressed with that, also you are aware that it’s messed up to bash Thomas for making a Harry Potter video 6 years ago, IT WAS SIX YEARS AGO AND HE LIKED HARRY POTTER, DON’T YOU DARE CANCEL THOMAS FOR THAT-

Moving On: Sorry, I’d write a joke for this one but I’m too busy crying-

12 Days Of Christmas: holy wow- no thoughts, head empty. You saw the colorful and festive little Christmas special and you actually said “:D” out loud.

Can Lying be Good: THEATER KIDS, ASSEMBLE!

Why do we get out of bed in the morning?: You probably said one thing in support of logince at one point in your entire life and you got chased with pitchforks by the prinxiety shippers and then Roman started bullying Logan, I am so sorry for this fandom’s sins :(

Crofters the musical: You’re basically Roman in this episode. “But look at him now! (Cue Logan chugging jam like a fucking madman) He’s just so COOL!”

Learning New Things About Ourselves: Your motto is “angst doesn’t exist if I can’t see it.”

Embarrassing Phases: I… completely forgot this episode existed. This is your favorite? I’m not judging your taste or anything, but what’s with your taste?

Selfishness v. Selflessness: Your favorite design? Janus. Your favorite personality? Janus. Your favorite ship? A Janus ship. Your favorite side? … Logan.

Dealing with Intrusive Thoughts: Remus’ abandonment issues aren’t canon. But if I say that too loud, then you people might stab me, so nevermind.

Are There Healthy Distractions: Apparently this episode’s plot of Thomas forgiving his previously homophobic friend is an analogy for Thomas forgiving Virgil for having been a dark side. That’s the connection! I missed it too! I thought it was a silly Frozen episode too! IT’S ABOUT VIRGIL!

Putting Others First: … guys, you can stop fighting the moceit vs roceit war, neither of them will ever be canon. ALSO HOLY WOW PATTON IS A FROG AND HE’S RIPPED FOR SOME REASON, WHAT THE FU-

Flirting With Social Anxiety: Your number one headcanon for the season 2 finale is a direct Frozen quote where Patton is like “Thomas you can’t marry a man you just met” and Roman is like “you can if it’s true love! >:0” (also hi again prinxiety shippers!)

Working Through Intrusive Thoughts: You have anger issues and you relate to Logan. Or you’re just happy to see the silly, goofy, demented Duke with fandom-inflicted abandonment issues!

[agaypanic]

The Closing Shift (Stanley Barber X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: After a closing shift with your boyfriend, you figure the best way to unwind is to grab some food, put on some music, and light up.

A/N: warning for drug use but its stanley barber so thats not really shocking lol

***

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Huh?” Stanley turned around to see you looking at him and the bowling alley counter. He glanced back at what he was doing. “Stacking cans.” He jutted his thumb towards the pyramid of empty beer cans that he had made, giving you a smile.

You rolled your eyes fondly at your boyfriend’s shenanigans. “Well, don’t forget to take out the trash.”

By the time you and Stanley finished closing, you two were absolutely starving. Luckily, the Fiddle’s Diner was still open, so you got some food for takeout. You snacked on your fries while Stanley drove, leaning into his side so he could drum the radio’s beat into your shoulder.

“You staying over?” He asked, even though you both knew the answer. Having dated for a long time and being so close to graduation, you practically lived at Stanley’s. You considered it practice for when you’d get out out of this town the second you got your diplomas.

You fed him a fry. “Yup.”

Stanley pulled into his driveway, and you were both relieved to see that his dad was still out of town. Being the gentleman he was, he slung your backpack over his shoulder and opened the car door for you. The two of you quickly ran inside the house to escape the somewhat chilly air and headed down to the basement. 

You two quickly fell into a routine that had become muscle memory. You set the food and drinks on Stanley’s little table and then looked through his music collection for whatever record you felt like listening to. Meanwhile, Stanley grabbed his special box from under his bed, which was filled with his best stuff. Strictly reserved for you and him, none of his customers. He rolled a joint and set it on the table with your food before running to the kitchen to grab some water for you to drink when you’d inevitably cough out a lung from taking too big of a hit.

When he barreled back down the stairs, Bloodwitch was filling the room, and you were sitting on the floor, taking a bite of your burger. He sat beside you, setting the water bottle next to your coke. “Ready, baby?” You swallowed your bite and nodded. Stanley grabbed the joint, holding it close to your lips. “Ladies first.” 

Stanley grabbed the lighter that he always carried in his pocket and ignited it, holding it up to the end of the joint. Once lit, you took a deep inhale before handing it to your boyfriend. He waited until the smoke left your mouth before indulging himself.

You held your hand out to Stanley, sipping your soda while you looked at him sweetly. “More?” He laughed, shaking his head.

“Be patient, Y/n.”

“Please.” You begged, giving him a pout.

Stanley sighed, knowing he could never resist you and your begging. “Fine.” Instead of giving the joint back to you, he inhaled it himself. Then he set it in the ashtray before taking your face in his hands and locking his lips with yours. You moaned at both his touch and the sensation of the smoke drifting from his mouth to yours. 

When you parted, you inhaled before quickly blowing out the smoke, turning your head so it wouldn’t hit Stanley. 

“Thanks.” You leaned forward, about to kiss him again, when the harsh tickle in your throat made you cough into the crook of your elbow. 

Stanley quickly grabbed your water, helping you take baby sips. “No problem.” He laughed, and you laughed along once your lungs caught a break. You quickly became lightheaded in the best way, and you leaned into your boyfriend’s side while you slowly ate and listened to your favorite band.

By the time the record went silent, it felt like hours had passed. You and Stanley, with now full bellies, had moved to lay on the couch. You reveled in the sound of his heartbeat against your ear and the feeling of his hand stroking your hair.

You yawned quietly, snuggling further into your boyfriend. “Ready for bed?” Instead of saying anything, you made a slight noise of confirmation, too tired and dazed to do more. 

Stanley, more awake than you, sat up and guided you over to sit on his bed. Even though you had some of your own clothes at his place, he knew you liked his more, especially for sleeping. So he grabbed a random shirt and some boxers and helped you change out of your work clothes that you were too lazy to take off when you got home. 

After you were taken care of, Stanley also changed. When he returned to the bed, you were already lying down and half asleep. But when he laid down beside you, you immediately latched onto him like magnets. You whispered goodnights to each other before succumbing to sleep.

[margridarnauds]

i would love to give you an excuse to ramble about kitrye and raphael! (i don’t even go here, but they delight me.) my personal favorite way to play with my assorted blorbo barbies is to dump them in as many sandboxes as my brain can hold - do you have any AUs you’re especially fond of for them? or, conversely, an AU that you think would Make Them Worse to be dropped into, for the drama of it all?

God. The Blorbos (one of whom only exists in my head + the game files). God, so when they first meet, it's important to understand that Kitrye is TERRIFIED. She hadn't been back down to the Underdark in over two hundred years, and there she was, back in this place that caused her so much trauma, hoping to find a cure because a parasite's been put in her head that won't just kill her, but will transform her, painfully, into something Other. And THAT was when Raphael decided to make his appearance, so she pulled her sword at him, to which he basically went "nuh uh" and poofed it away.

But over the next two acts of the game, they developed this odd dynamic -- a level of fondness, physical attraction, and respect mixed with apprehension and caution on Kitrye's end. She serves a morally good goddess who is chaotic, YES, and does genuinely care about her followers, but probably wouldn't like Kitrye...just...making eyes at a devil. So, the push and pull continues. Because, DESPITE that, they...get one another. In a way that her companions don't get her, because they're so wrapped up in their own issues (which are, admittedly, big issues), that they don't realize that Kitrye is very much Not Okay, or even really...know her. While she and Raphael have shared interests in art, literature, and music. (Their second meeting was Raphael stumbling on her practicing the lyre and listening to her play, as he started to realize there was more to this paladin than he'd thought.)

It's also vital to understand that, in DND mechanics, high level paladins' souls are RIDICULOUSLY alluring to devils, because they're worth more. So as this dynamic develops, Raphael ALSO becomes increasingly interested in *her* soul -- he wants her to give him the Crown of Karsus, yes, which would give him the power to (maybe???) take over the Hells, but he ALSO takes a *particular* interest in corrupting her, all while remaining oblivious to how hooked he really is....

Right until the point where she breaks her oath. Because he had given her the (actually true!) information that a vampire lord was going to try to sacrifice 7000 souls to the Archdevil Mephistopheles (aka Raphael's father, who he hates), she stopped it, but the way she went about it was a case of "either stay true to your oath or stay true to your morals", and she chose the latter. Raphael has the possibility for a perfect victory -- he's managed to deprive his father of 7000 souls, he has his paladin in his clutches, practically BEGGING him to take her pain away, to take her soul...and he refuses. Because he realizes that he doesn't want her like *that*, he doesn't want to break her.

At the end of the day, she is someone who, despite appearing very cool and collected on the surface, albeit something of a loner, is actually EXTREMELY love-starved and depressed, with a hint of survivor's guilt; he is someone who, despite appearing cool and collected on the surface, has EXTREME abandonment issues and a tendency towards obsession (and a corruption kink). It's shocking but also kind of inevitable that they'd latch onto one another. She has someone who, while he's aloof and distant in public, is OBSESSED with her and makes her genuinely happy, who protects her from Lolth, the main figure in the Drow pantheon who really, really does NOT like when Drow defect to the surface world (and likes to do *fun little things* to Kitrye like, say, give her nightmares of being eaten alive by spiders -- the first peaceful rest she's had in over two hundred years was the first time she slept with Raphael). Meanwhile, he has someone who adores him, who accepts his obsessive love, who will never leave him, and who is able to match him -- she's just as sharp as he is, she's just as interested in culture as he is, she can keep up with him. And they're both half-one evil DND race, half-one good DND race -- Kitrye is half-Drow, half-Wood-Elf; Raphael is half-Human, half-Devil, which means that both of them is AWARE of what it's like to not fit into one world or another, with one incredibly abusive parent and one dead parent (Kitrye's mother sacrificed her father to Lolth after she captured him, Raphael's father is...a literal archdevil who might or might not have had Raphael unconsensually, from DND lore around Mephistopheles and the Cambions he produces.) Kitrye is the only member of the party who GETS *why* Raphael is the way he is, even when she doesn't AGREE with it...because in another turn of events, maybe she would have become him. Or he'd have become her.

And then, at some point, she realizes that it's either her morals or Raphael's life. Because he's done too much and, frankly, doesn't WANT to be redeemed. It isn't that he's passed some arbitrary point of no return for redemption, it's that he doesn't *want* it. And they were broken up at the time, after a truly massive argument. And Kitrye knows that the moral thing to do would be to either kill him herself or let someone else do it, but...she can't. Because that would mean things were *over* and she can't do that. In the same way that he can't be TRULY mad at her over the breakup, even though every law of the Hells says that him showing her that level of deference is a sign of weakness. Which is what subsequently makes him marry her.

By the time of their endgame, after killing or otherwise debilitating no fewer than one elderbrain, two gods, and one archdevil, they're very formal and dignified in public, for the most part, but very quietly affectionate couple in private who still enjoy bantering with one another, who enjoy exploiting the various clauses in their 500+ page long marriage contract as a way of toying with one another, who enjoy teasing one another and dancing around one another while, on occasion, embarrassing their daughter with how in love they both clearly are and scandalizing the Nine Hells. There is an active rumor in the mortal plane that he abducted her, mainly because the truth is too difficult for people to come to terms with (once again, people liking the IDEA of Kitrye more than the extremely broken woman she actually is, clinging onto a heroic version of her who...IS Kitrye, yes, because she STILL advocates for souls that Raphael has bartered for as much as she can, but also doesn't capture the nuances of who she is BEYOND that.) She's the only being in any plane of existence that he truly, fully loves, and that means that he is very, very protective AND possessive of her...which suits her perfectly well, because she has no interest in anyone else.

So, for AUs:

Some of my friends have been very valiantly putting up with me talking about an academia AU for them -- which is part academia AU, part "Let me rant about all the power imbalances that occur in academia." It's still a fantasy setting, just a modern day one instead of Vaguely Medieval, but there's a Lot as far as the way that women are treated by academia, the way that women are presumed to be sleeping their way to the top if they get into a relationship with a senior male professor and then achieve success, the "soft" labor that female academics are expected to perform, the way that male academics are allowed to be "eccentric" in a way that female academics aren't, the way that some female academics develop a tendency of...tossing their female colleagues under the bus to prove their toughness and worthiness, the power dynamics that can exist between students and their supervisors, the emphasis on things being Proper VS them being Right, etc. All of which. Is in NO WAY. For LEGAL REASONS. Based on ANYTHING. I have personally either experienced or observed. Kitrye is a grad student, Raphael is a senior scholar from another university. He isn't her supervisor or even on her dissertation committee, but it still IS scandalous when they get together and MORE scandalous when they get married shortly after her graduation.

Another one, in a canon timeline, would be the "what if Raphael had met Young Kitrye two hundred years before the events of the game?" Some part of me says that it wouldn't have ended well for her, because he had no reason to maintain his interest in her, but some part of me still wants to see Young Kitrye falling head over heels in love with a devil and going "That one. I want that one." The two of them running away together, causing romantic ballads to be written about them. It's great for business for Raphael. What would a Kitrye who had never been as fully influenced by her goddess be like? That would have been two hundred years of being a loner that she wouldn't have had.

Another is "What if KITRYE had found Young!RAPHAEL" -- this is something Kitrye actually wishes for, and it's even murkier since we know less about Raphael's backstory, but Kitrye does sometimes wish she could go back to him before he was as strongly influenced by the Hells and try to reach him. He doesn't believe it would have been possible, Kitrye does -- of the two of them, I trust her more than him, but, again, what would that have led to? Who knows. Maybe Mephistopheles, in an attempt to get Raphael to embrace his destiny, would have fridged her.

Another canon-verse AU is the What-If for Kitrye dying at some point and her goddess having to go to the Hells to ask Raphael for her soul back, so that she can be reincarnated, which Raphael, grudgingly, agrees to, and then their reunion in the modern day. (Please note: Raphael. Will NEVER. In canonverse. Allow her to die. He is in full "I will dig up your grave and then defy every natural law in order to bring you back how DARE you die on me" gothic antihero love with her.)

One that I discussed with @antiqua-lugar (I am. So sorry to you. For having to get through the block of text. To get here) was one where Kitrye had actually MARRIED Gale following the events of the game...only for Raphael to show up. And because it's ALSO a Soulmate AU, things getting really, really messy really, really quickly, which leads to Kitrye ultimately going to Raphael after Gale, in a fit of insecurity, makes himself into a god, which functionally kills whatever love Kitrye felt for him...or guilt over having an emotional affair with Raphael. Which becomes a physical affair soon after because...well...her husband is a GOD, that HAS to count as a functional divorce.

Then, there's the Soulmate Goose of Enforcement AU, which is just me...having Raphael get chased by a Goose. Until he is willing to come to terms with his own feelings. (Yes....this is a real thing. No, I have no excuses.)

[alister312]

Do you have any Gregstophe headcanons that you haven't shared yet?

most certainly! I’ll be honest I forget very often what headcanons I have about them that I’ve shared and what I just feel like I have simply bc it’s something I have always understood to be inherent to Them. also, very often I think of headcanons that aren’t set in stone? they’re more little concepts I like to play around with for a while. they’ll either stick around in my head as “canon to me” or just become things I think are neat but feel no real attachment to or desire to explore further. this is why I tend to really like ask games bc it can give me prompts to think of new ones that might be good enough to stick around.

however I feel like u perhaps came here wanting a more concrete answer, anon, so a concept I have been pushing around my head lately is roadtrip headcanons 👀

for starters, this would be in the mercenary sort of phase of their life if they go down that path. while they for sure have many little safe houses and contacts all over the world (or, worst case scenario, last minute book a hotel), I think they’re more often than not on the road

if they have the ability, Gregory would much rather take a train so that they can both be involved with the mission planning process along the way, but a car is usually much more convenient (especially in the US)

they both drive (with how long of trips they take it’s impossible not to switch off). they both prefer when Gregory is the one driving though bc Christophe can be easily distracted since he finds long stretches of highway so tedious and he’s a much more active person than Gregory.

driver picks what they’re listening to though so Christophe knows the full soundtracks of many musicals entirely against his will

Gregory refuses to ever stop at roadside rest stops for food (too gross and too public for their line of work) so they go to a lot of interesting local cafes and diners. sometimes if it’s a place with really good food they’ll put it on their map so they can go back another time.

they also have actual physical maps for different countries. don’t wanna be easily tracked by a gps signal. Christophe also likes the feel of physically mapping out a route and Gregory likes to be a little pompous about like “I know how to find my way without technology ����”

they’ve got various cars depending on where they’re at in the world but all of them are customized to have hollowed out seats (to store less than legal things) that fold down (in case they need to sleep in the car. Gregory hates when they do this bc it’s so cramped and uncomfortable but Christophe doesn’t mind bc they are forced to cuddle and it’s a good excuse for his touch starved but in denial about that self)

the biggest argument they always inevitably get into on the road is about having the windows down. Gregory hates having them down bc the wind messes with his hair but when they’re down is the only time Christophe is allowed to smoke in the car. they usually get into a battle of putting them down and back up again. Christophe installed an old handcrank window in one of their cars just so he could roll down the window without Gregory having the ability to put it back up and it was one of their bigger petty fights to date

[damarisandtheseven]

A discordant Fanyu

I have been thinking if writing this or not. Then I have been thinking if posting it somewhere or not because I know this is not going to be a popular opinion, but maybe there is someone else who feel the same and would be relieved knowing they are not alone. I am a Fanyu and this is about Hanyu Yuzuru and his marriage announcement. If your only reaction has been happiness please skip this as it is not for you.

First of all let me say I will keep following and supporting Yuzuru because I do not expect people I care about to be perfect, quite the opposite, but at the same time it would be hypocritical of me to simply read other Fanyus comments, people I have come to know, respect and like over the years, without even trying to explain while I feel differently.

I have absolutely no problem with Yuzuru getting married, that is not my issue in this situation, but let me start in order to see if I manage to explain why I am sad and somewhat angry.

I love his skating. I could talk hours about the perfect technique he has, the amazing display of athleticism in his programs, or the incredible musicality in his performances and the universal value of his artistry. And all the above would be perfectly true reasons, but none would be the truest.

I fell in love with his skating at first sight because no one else ever brought so many raw emotions to the surface so fast for me. By nature I am utterly rational so I’ve spent years trying to analyze and understand why his skating, and by extension him as a person, made me feel so much every time. Of course I have not found one single definite answer as it is normal with emotions, they always are more than the sum of all their rational parts.

One of those parts is that something in his skating has always screamed at the audience with utter honesty: ‘Look at me, this is my soul on display! Feel my feelings because if you don’t I am alone! Love me because I need it! I am famished for it! If you adore me, my pain and tribulations are worthy. Stay with me, I only have you!’

The screams, at least to me, were so loud and sincere that my emotions resonated instinctively, trusting them without reserve, making them inevitable like turning around when I hear my name called out, or jerking at a sudden loud noise. But since Friday I feel like I have been empathizing with someone who talks about starving when he is sitting at a banquet, can eat what’s on the table at any time, and probably does when he turns around and I can’t see. Someone who’s been deceitful, either by choice or need.

Being a private person should not necessarily mean building a public persona utterly disjointed from who you really are and use it as a smokescreen to keep everyone around into safe prearranged roles, like small little pawns. There is being private and there is hiding behind privacy and social conventions because it is easier and less scary.

This is not a sacred truth and my perceptions can be totally wrong, but they are mine and this what I feel.

So my conclusion is I wish Yuzuru all the happiness in the world in every part of his life, and in his marriage and truly I hope he can find the love, the peace, the support, the fulfillment and the understanding he deserves with his wife and his family at large, but no, things are not the same. They cannot be and not because he has married someone, which is always a joyful occasion, but because I feel like I followed emotions that were not real and now I have to relearn from the start how to go about this, how to be a happy and proud Fanyu.

[alcamcat]

Try this food

It's the brothers' first time eating at a restaurant. They choose a pizzeria.

-I don't own the game or the characters-

James:

He's prepared, of course he is. Even before they chose a restaurant, he dealt with how to behave in a restaurant, what he and his brothers can and can't do in order not to draw any attention to them. And he is pleasantly surprised. The chair is comfortable, they can all sit together at a table, and the conversations from the other tables are just loud enough for him to comfortably overhear to pick up more information about humans and their behavior. The fact that they are being served inevitably makes him think of the castle. Except that he actually has the choice of what he wants to eat here. And that his brothers (even Damien) get to sit at the table with him. He's previewed the menu, of course, but he's reading it in his mind so Damien can choose. He also keeps an eye on his brothers, James doesn't want them to misbehave.

He orders a shrimp pesto dish.

Erik:

A nice place. As he quietly looks around and takes in everything, he soon realizes that eating out is something he and his brothers should be doing more often. It's quite an experience! Almost all the tables in the room are occupied and Erik is once again amazed at how different people dress. Even when seated at a table together, people don't seem obligated to dress alike. He quickly gets the hang of which tables are being celebrated at and what other reason the visit is based on. He likes the background music and unconsciously tries to listen carefully to perhaps be able to recognize which instruments are being played. Of course, he helps James keep his brothers in check. Good behavior at the dining table is not a problem for him and the fact that he sits in such a way that the waitress occasionally accidentally brushes against him suits him very well. So, he gets two meals for the price of one. He completely ignores the evil eye of his older brother. After all, James would do the same if given the choice, wouldn't he?

He orders a Pizza with extra cheese.

 Sam:

Hungry! Almost starved! These are his thoughts as he enters the restaurant behind his brothers and is led to their seat. It smells good, he has to admit, and the food he sees on the other tables makes his mouth water. He's not picky about food per se, but just being handed a card and apparently expected to read it, makes him wince. Of course, he doesn't show his discomfort, but do people really assume that he can read? And even worse... does he have to be able to read to get food? He listens to Erik, who mumbles softly as he reads part of the menu to Matthew. Doesn't sound so bad, maybe the food makes up for the fact that James keeps admonishing him with his looks. Yes, he will behave! Even Sam realizes that revealing their secret by showing their powers could be dangerous!

He orders a Meat Lovers Pizza.

 Matthew:

Oh wow, such variety of food that he doesn't know... And one dish looks better than the other on the surrounding tables. It's great that people appreciate good food so much! Like Erik, he looks around the restaurant, but is visibly more nervous than his older brother. The fact that it is largely due to the fact that he does not want to show his brothers that he can already read is of course adeptly hidden. His brothers assume he's just over the moon and he lets them think so. He quickly decides on a pizza and spends his time carefully analyzing and understanding his surroundings. He clearly enjoys being around humans and still thinks it was a wonderful idea to get James and Erik to go out to dinner together. After all, sooner or later they have to come into contact with humans, and not just to get energy. A child at a neighboring table hugs his stuffed dog tightly and Matthew catches his younger brother's gaze. Maybe he should create Damien a stuffed animal like that?

He orders a pepperoni Pizza.

 Damien:

Damien really likes the atmosphere in the restaurant! People sit peacefully together and enjoy delicious food and drinks, there is no shouting, no fighting. People's thoughts are relaxed and quiet, there is no danger and being able to decide for himself what he want to eat is a great feeling. Being able to sit at a table like this with his brothers is like a dream come true for him. It's only half disturbing that he can't read the menu himself, but relies on his eldest brother to read it to him in his head. Sam seems to be bothered a lot more that he can't read. Maybe he'll be able to persuade his brother to learn to read and write with him after all? A child sits at a neighboring table and reads the menu to his mother. The child is visibly proud that it was able to read these few lines on its own. Damien would be proud too! The fact that people can and even have to learn to read and write from an early age still fills him with a small pang of jealousy. He is so thankful that he came here with his brothers.

He orders a Pizza Margherita with extra spice.

[bite-sized-devil]

hi! i hope you doing great darling! <3

can I have romantic obey me matchup please? (the character I wouldn’t like to be matched with is asmo, don’t get me wrong, I love him with my whole heart!!! just don’t feel like it)

i’m a girl, 18, aries, enfp, my pronouns are she/her. i could be really shy sometimes due to my bad anxiety, but mostly i’m very sweet and bubbly person, i deeply care about my friends, and i’m super affectionate with people who i love. also, my love language is physical touch!!! i’m also very sensitive and emotional person, but i’m fully open with my feelings only with close people in my life. my height is 5’5, i have a petite figure, have some boob, long brown hair and green eyes, i would describe my style as a hyperfeminine, but i also love to dress cozy! i’m polyglot and i speak 6 languages, and i’m studying linguistics in uni. my other passions are makeup, cinematography and music ofc! i’m obsessed with rabbits and bunnies and all the bunny-themed items! i love cute things, such as clothes, accessories, makeup, stuffies and etc. my ideal partner is someone tall and protective, who would take care of me and be attentive to me and my feelings! and also someone who would cuddle me a lot <3

hope it’s okay! sorry for my grammar, english isn’t my first language. i hope you have a nice day <3

Match Up:

🌻 500 followers Bite Sized Event 🌻

Warnings: none it's all fluff dears.

Mammon Avatar of Greed

I think Mammon sounds perfect for you, he'd think you were just the cutest thing! His sweet little bunny girl must be protected at all costs 💛 Your love language is touch? That's great because our poor boy is touch starved. He'll take anything you want to give him and more thanks. And don't worry about being shy, his extroverted nature will draw you out of your shell. Thank Dia you are polyglot because even he has a hard time knowing what he's saying. He talks so bloody fast sometimes it all gets mixed together.

Head canons for the two of you:

He's not sure why he pretended he wasn't into you when you first met. Call it self-preservation, sometimes he gets to know someone and they start thinking he's worse than dog shit thanks to his greedy nature. So he ignored his feelings, poured acid on the butterflies in his stomach that seemed to come alive when you entered a room. Put a stopper on the feeling of pure bliss that seemed to pour from his chest whenever you touched him. Instead he just waited for the inevitable; the malice that would taint your words when you spoke to him. He was so sure it would happen, but it never did. You were always so sweet to him, going along with his schemes, sticking up for him in front of his brothers, you're always by his side. And you seem happy to be there? And once he realised that he stopped fighting it, the next time you went to grab his hand he let you. Your delicate little hand felt so small and soft, he hoped his hand wasn't too sweaty. It was, sweaty that is, but you weren't going to complain. You definitely weren't voicing an concerns when he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your wrist. You simply slipped your hand out of his so you could cup his pretty face and return

Sometimes you catch him staring at you, he doesn't realise he's doing it. He always blushes and stutters out an apology then explains that he just gets lost in your beauty.

He never leaves your side. I repeat HE NEVER LEAVES YOUR SIDE. He's holding your hand, his arms wrapped around you with a hand resting on your hip, he's looped your arm in his. He's stuck like glue to you babe.

Every time he goes shopping without you he can't help but buy you things! Just anything they reminds him of you, he bought you these fuck awful bunny slippers once. But it was such a sweet gesture that you had to keep them!

His favourite thing is when you give him kisses. Soft ones; where you're both cuddling on the couch being cute and giggly together and you reach over and pull that pretty face of his closer for a smooch. Sleepy ones; when he gets back from a shoot extremely early in the morning and tries to sneak into bed beside you with out waking you up. But it's Mammon, he's loud okay! He slips in beside you and you roll over and wrap your arms around him and tell him welcome home before smooshing your lips messily on his. Sneaky one; where you're walking past him in the hallway at RAD and you jump up and kiss him quickly on the lips or the cheek and then walk off before he catches you. Intense ones; like the ones where you're moaning into his mouth as he pulls you closer and you let his tongue dance against yours.

Ok well, I hope you like it! 💕💕💕

[v-anrouge]

exposing myself on the internet for a character assignment go brrrrr

also: *sweats in aroace*

Okay so I possess a distinct lack of hobbies because ✨ mental illness ✨ and also I am a total hikkineet. I do however, have less active hobbies like drawing, painting, reading/writing. I do enjoy rewatching Musicals from my childhood whenever I’m feeling down or generally empty. Some faves would be “The Sound Of Music”, “Mary Poppins��� and “Anastasia”. Ya boi likes singing along with em even though I am terrible at it hehe ❤️

God okay. My personality. Uhh. I have a lot of feelings (and cry a lot) and I am extremely affection starved so show me positive attention and compliment me and I am fucking worshipping the ground you walk on so.. affectionate? I guess. Also Kind of quiet. I’m in my head a lot, and I have anxiety about voicing my opinion and thoughts to people. Especially irl. I’ll usually just remain silent or provide a few comments but otherwise mainly a listener. But if it’s a special interest and I can see that you are actively listening to me instead of waiting for me to stop talking I’ll turn into a walking Encyclopedia about Said thing. I do love physical affection but only when I am in the mood for it lol.

Giving love language is acts of service and gift giving (flashbacks to the time I offered to buy you something even though we barely knew each other). Receiving love language is words of affirmation probably idk i have 3 irl Friends outside of Family so my experience on the matter is limited.

Also people who are audibly/visibly angry will set off my fight/flight/freeze response and I will physically distance myself from them due to discomfort/fear. I’d also definitely go non-verbal as a result. This would be a time where touching me could result in a panic attack/me just crying lmao

Okay bare with me here because I have never actively considered my type so I’m only really thinking about it now

Type wise, perhaps someone kind but firm, I’d say? I lack a lot of motivation, self-discipline and self-respect, so a partner who is gentle, accomodating and understanding of my situation but isn’t afraid to call bullshit when they see it would definitely be preferable. Also direct communication because I CANNOT read between the lines. And.. someone who would go places with me. Not even for like the cute coupley things like Dates and Shopping or whatever (though that would be great too) but literally as a Support Person for stressful situations like dentists, doctors and other such appointments. Lord knows I need it because I stutter so badly when talking to strangers irl and stare straight at the ground and go silent when I inevitably become embarrassed at my lack of social skills💀 I don’t really have a strong preference for any hobbies a partner might have, but it would be cool to watch musicals together. And dress up and stuff. Maybe even cosplay. Idk just Indulging in each others hobbies would be fun. Also I struggle with like, mobile(?) communication and find it difficult to take the initiative to start text convos or call people, so they’d need to take the lead on that otherwise I may accidentally end up ghosting them. Not maliciously, but as I said, ya boy is stuck in his own little world a lot.

Also my favourite colour is green! HEX Code : #9AEEC8 (this probably wasn’t necessary but teehee)

And if a partner can’t handle spice I will constantly give them shit for it but in an affectionate way ❤️

(THIS WAS SO LONG IM SO SORRY IDK HOW TO SHUT UP WHEN PPL GIVE ME ATTENTION 😭)

THIS IS PERFECT ACTUALLY U GAVE A LOT OF DETAILS VERY IMPORTANT DETAILS AND THAT MAKES RHE JOB WAY EASIER!!

I match you with...

ROOK HUNT let me start this off by saying that this can be taken in both a platonic or romantic way and that in either way u and rook are like made for eachother im serious like u two are fucking inseparable, rook absolutely adores everything about you, you two have A LOT in common and he LIVES for it, rook and you can constantly be found almost sobbing over eachother and how much you mean to eachother, you two are so close people consider u both goals (couple or friendship it's up to u). rook is absolutely sure you two are soulmates he has never felt so connected to someone like he feels connected to you

rook loves spending time with you he adores talking to you even if to other ppl it might seem like he's being ignored rook knows he isn't he knows that you are listening intently to him and he loves it, most people hate it when he starts talking to them since he talks A LOT but you? you don't mind it! you stay there and listen to him ramble and sometimes even join him! rook always feel so warm when he manages to make you feel safe enough to ramble and infodump him and he'll be very happy if you allow him to do the same in exchange you two have a lot of interests in common and love talking about them to ppl that actually care so this normally ends w u both talking for hours non-stop and not even noticing as time goes by (not u two talking about vil for 5 hours straight)

rook absolutely adores your works, wether it's a drawing, a painting or a piece u wrote he'll love to see it, he could spend hours talking about your works seriously it became one of his special interests his ur number 1 fan now he'll always hype you up and even do some of them with you (like painting and reading together etc)

rook swears he can feel his heart exploding in his heart when u give him a gift this man won't stop smiling as he goes on and on about how much he absolutely adores you and how much he loves the gift and how he's so honored and happy to receive something like that and there's literal tears on his eyes as he does so, rook feels so happy when you offer to help him too, it means he gets more time to spend with you! and rook loves spending time with you<3

if you like words of affirmation than rook is the man for you, this man constantly writes poems about you and the special connection you two share and even though he has written multiple of them somehow they never ever look the same it's always so fresh as if it was his first time writing something like that, it also never fails to make you smile rook is very observant so he'll def know what makes you smile and he WILL be making a LOT of use of his privileged knowledge

rook knows how you get when someone is mad and being loud about it so whenever rook feels an situation escalating he'll immediately take you away from it and make sure you're okay, if rook ever happens to arrive to late he'll do his best to help you calm down, rook is super patient and even if you go non-verbal rook somehow still always know what to say and what to do, if you like company in times like these rook will not leave your side, he'll constantly be making sure you're feeling alright and comfortable and paying attention to your body language if you can't speak

rook will always encourage you to try new things at the same time he'll immediately take you out of any situations that make you extremely uncomfortable, for rook it isn't easy to trust people, however he trusts you, and he wants you to trust him back so he wants to be there for you, to show you he will always be by your side to support you and he wishes that you feel the same towards him

if you want to talk to someone or ask for anything but you're too nervous because they're a stranger rook will offer himself to do it for you, he has no problems doing that for you, rook would never shame anyone for not having good social skills because rook himself used to be very shy as a kid and he understands how hard it can be to talk to strangers

rook LOVES to watch and re-watch musicals with you! it's one of his favorite things to do, rook feels so happy when he's watching a musical you two like by your side he truly wishes that moments like these lasted forever, because there is no place rook would rather be than by your side

other possibilities: vil ( u two are like made for eachother seriously as i read ur info i was like omfg it makes sense why you love vil so much) lilia, cater & malleus

[devilsskettle]

for the character ring misty quigley:3

oooo this is a good one <3

• favorite thing about them

i like when she poisons people and i like that she put “i want my lawyer” on a cake

• least favorite thing about them

musical theater enthusiast 💀

• favorite line

“and it made sense, it was practical” in defense of her murdering someone in cold blood

• brOTP

her and shauna as adults

• ОТР

i’m a misty x natalie truther forever. rip to my girl though i guess

• пОТР

misty x elijah wood, i really did want to like him as a character but i just don’t care about him at all

• random headcanon

when she gets home from work and feels particularly alone, she has a glass of wine and watches soccer or one of those wilderness survival reality shows and falls asleep on the couch. she keeps up with women’s soccer she knows all the teams and players etc. also her house gets mice sometimes so she puts out glue traps and watches them try to escape and inevitably starve to death

• unpopular opinion

i wish she had less character development lmao i just want her to be a sociopath. i don’t want her to operate on the same emotional plane as everyone else, it makes her far less dynamic. if they allowed her to have her own set of logic and feelings that just don’t align with other people’s, i think season 2 would’ve been stronger, but less people would relate to her. also why i’m not onboard with elijah wood, i don’t think she should be capable of loving anyone like that (even natalie, i think her kind of love is rooted in selfishness and obsession and a desire to be needed, i don’t think conventional romance for anyone on this show is particularly interesting but especially for her, and it’s really not in keeping with her established character)

• song i associate with them

i want you to love me by fiona apple, it will come back by hozier, putting a spin on never ever getting rid of me by egg (originally from the musical waitress), choke by i don’t know how but they found me but the acoustic version

• favorite picture of them

send me a character

[kmp78]

“The legal case with his record company was both a risk (to their recording deal, wallets and musical career) and resulted in a type of fight. 29 Palms was also a risk than evolved into a kind of fight. But Jared does not primarily resort to fight mode for solutions and resolutions.”

And trying to get his lawyers and agents to stop the Joaquin Joker (if true).

“A type/kind of fight” but not a fight—the difference is so small, it’s almost irrelevant because it achieves little in terms of showing who he is or isn’t. Is being a risk-taker instead of “resorting to fight mode” more positively connoted? In all the examples there’s someone on the other side who needs to give way of their position; when free soloing or starving himself to become Rayon, it’s himself that he acts against, against his fears, his needs. Didn’t he even frame the ESB climb as a story of obstacles dealt by the management that he had to overcome to get it done? He loves that narration. So aggression is inevitable.

On the other hand, you could say he isn’t a risk-taker at all because he’s mostly acting strategically and knows his resources and capabilities. If he were to step into the UFC ring, you’d know he prepared, and wouldn’t take on anyone, he’s not up to potentially beating. And then there are imponderables in life that build a risk, like with that rope malfunction in 2020, where there’s no opponent directly contradicting his will. A different type of risk. All of this is true in his case. As anon stated too, I think. I perceive him as having a sometimes contentious, rebellious mentality and don’t think it’s anything to be morally judged in and of itself, he’s an extrovert. He isn’t Ferdinand the bull.

He likes to give off the impression that he is, but we all know he's all talk... 🥱

[astralsweetness]

Hii it's me again!! I've been really busy with college and stuff, but how are you?? really hope you're doing fine 💕

Also I have a question for you, do you have an ult bias? and an ult group?

Hi omg - sorry for vanishing off the face of the earth, I hope that didn’t scare you away 😭 Likewise, I was busy with college - it was right before finals, and then it WAS finals, and I was out here trying to write a research proposal in a week while dealing with other tests lmao. I felt swamped. (And then I got on a new medication that destroyed me for a bit… anyway! I’m back now lol). I hope you’re managing to make it through as well! 🤍

I put the rest under a read more bcs I got rambly lol

As for ults, yes, of course I do! My ult group was originally a group called “History” - a group of men who were all much older than was normal for an idol group to be. For comparison here, they debuted a year before BTS but their youngest member was the same age as one of BTS’s older members. They got massively fucked over by their company (the company disbanded them while their leader was in the military, and didn’t tell him - he found out when he did an internet search of his group that they were disbanded). I think, genuinely and in retrospect, not disbanding them would have just been delaying the inevitable though. The staff was constantly breaking into their studios and destroying their work, I think some of the members were starting to have conflict with one another under the immense pressure the company was putting them through, they were constantly getting injured (one of them literally fell and broke their wrist into the microphone during a music show performance and he had to take himself to the hospital and pay for the treatment himself) or were being forced to starve/dehydrate themselves, and they were also constantly ridiculed (one member was told he was literally only good for his singing voice, one member would literally not get lines in entire songs that already didn’t have choreo, so he’d just stand their while the others sang, etc).

But, also, they were my ult group and they disbanded days before my graduation and it devastated me in ways only things like this can lol. It’s been.. god, seven years now? So I can look back on the time fondly without as much pain anymore. Plus, I genuinely think all the members are much happier now - one got married and has a one year old baby girl, one finally disappeared from social media after getting a girlfriend, one is a prolific producer for BigHit/HYBE, etc. I’m happy for them. Proud of who they’ve.. not grown into, since they were already grown, but proud that they’re finally doing things that being an idol kept them from.

Anyway! They were my ult group for.. a long time. But they’ve been disbanded for so long now, I don’t really know if I can consider them my ult anymore. Pentagon is definitely sitting in that position now, if it’s open - they’re a very different type of group when compared to History, more familial, more ride or die with one another.

Seventeen is similar to them - familial and will also always have a special place in my heart, even if I don’t talk about them as much anymore. They’re who I initially made this blog for, after all.

I guess, in a way, they’re both my ult groups now. I don't know, after History, it's hard to pick a group as my "ult" lol.

As for ult bias.. yep as well! Originally it was a History member, but I went through a rough patch and no longer feel as.. comfortable, with the idea of him anymore. Just to be clear, he did nothing wrong haha. It's all on me.

My current ult is an idol I'm a bit wary to mention, because they seem to be very divisive in places. So I'll just leave it at that!

Honorable mentions to Tei and Woozi! I don't think Tei counts as an idol, but he's a Korean singer I've always adored and loved to listen to. People who can sing ballads as well as rock masterfully own my heart haha. And Jihoon, I mean.. come on. I love him haha.

[musingcyril]

“You’ll be in fucking heaven - guilty that you let me wait this long for you” he replied to her words; huffed a breath against her skin at her laughter when he knew all too well that when she spoke with confidence it was all but a show. He could easily bring her to the edge just as he is now. His cock was buried in the channel of her most tender holes. She didn’t need to give that; could have made him earn it but she chose to willingly give her body in any way she could have him. He had not missed her slip of the tongue. She loved him; just as he did her.

It seemed so right to have her on his cock; taking every inch of him and giving herself this pleasure. The fact that she had carried the same thoughts as he had when they were young made him regret not acting on it sooner. If he had, those years of watching her with another man would have been less painful. It was his chance now to show her what it meant to be worshiped and to be taken to such heights of ecstasy that she would never sate herself without him. It was his promise to her to keep her satisfied; and addicted to him.

“I’ll hold you to that. dear sister. I won’t allow the night to end without seeing you take my cock buried in that sweet mouth of yours” he said, assuring that her commitment to her words stood ground, lest she torture him with the thought and take such a gift from him. She already spoke of her desire; her filthy words spilt from her lips and he knew. Paige would drink from him. She would give herself to swallow his cum. It was only inevitable. “I wonder if my dear sister could take it if I fucked her mouth. I’ve dreamed of you sitting prettily on your knees for me, choking and starving for air” he spoke, speaking almost calmly between his breaths as he fucked her hole with firm strokes. “You would look so pretty” he whispered, touching his fingers along her neck and collar.

At her command to him, he growled in his throat. He didn’t need to be told twice as he took a firm hold of her hips. His cock slipped into her arse, quick and hard with a punishing pace to make her feel the strength of his power. She would feel him when he was finished with her; to have her more than trembling but broken in by him. That tight channel would be aching; sore - pulsing and dripping with his seed.

The cry of her release; was music to his ears as it rang in his ears. Her pleas to have him release inside her ass followed soon after. The heavy load that sat heavy in his balls poured his cum deep into her hole and spread onto her skin. It was an experience he could not forget. His sweet step-sister brought him the height of his own release; no other woman compared to her.

He groaned as she purred, eyes moving to look at the mess he had left behind on her skin of his cum painted on her ass. Her ass, leaked his thick white load as it continued to tremble. Cyril hummed, her voice honeyed and her eyes were hooded in delirium. He softly chuckled; the thrill of her wrecked and in ruins of her mind overrun with pleasure. “It was, wasn’t it?” he asked, smirking wickedly.

He saw the look in her eyes; he was not yet done with him and agreed most ardently; words needn’t be exchanged. “The best idea I’ve heard all night, sister” He nodded in agreement; quick to think of a solution to their predicament. They were both freshly fucked, hair messy, skin gleaming with sweat and smelling like sex. Cyril kissed and met her with the same need to leave and retake her. His heart soared at the thought of a night just starting; a love growing with his step-sister to be his alone.

“Meet me at the car. I’ll take care of our parents” he told her, pulling back finally to dress and buckle his pants. Cyril removed a handkerchief from his coat pocket, wiping her down before pocketing the stained piece of fabric with a smirk. “Don’t worry, it won’t be the last time I paint your skin with my cum, sister” he said bluntly with a smirk. Leaning down he pulled on his shirt, fixing his hair to look presentable again. He offered a hand as he found her shirt and handed it to her. “Be careful on your walk back to my car - I wouldn’t want you falling over” he chuckled. observing her slight limp after the soreness of their activities.

“And thank you for letting me fuck that sweet hole, sister.” he nudged her nose with his and kissed her softly. “I hope it won’t be the last” leaving her to ruminate over the thought now that she wouldn’t soon forget the feeling of her step-brother pounding her tight channel.

“It’d be divine…I-I mean absolutely horrible,” A soft chortle fell from her lips as her face flushed with arousal. Paige would love nothing more than to have his hands all over her body, worshipping her like she deserved to be treated. It sounds heavenly. “Mmm. We do my lo-my dear brother,” she hummed blissfully. “I’d like to taste you too and have your cum in my mouth,” she casually commented all the wishful thinking she had in her younger years.

The brunette was absolutely beside herself, her body filled with the utmost desire and unadulterated burdening lust and want coursing through her. It was what she craved and had been longing for, for too long. To be filled by him, unable to stop herself to push back against him as he completely obliterated her private hole. The sound of his groans brought a certain satisfaction and smugness upon her features, that it was she who would be able to elicit those moans from him. Only heightened the experience knowing.

She wasn’t going to last long. Her body thrummed with excitement. As they were finally absolutely to experience what they had both secretly craved for all those years. This year was looking much brighter by the moment, knowing they could fully have each other, despite the repercussions it might have, she wouldn’t have it any other way. There’s no going back now. He’s it for her. In her heart of hearts she always knew this. The moment he’d have her she’d never want anyone else. Soft mewls of delight. “I have my moments,” she answered, a soft sigh emitted as his lips captured hers once more fueled with such intensity, as she poured every ounce of being she held for him.

Their heavy moans mingled together, along with the distinct smell of sex in the air. She hummed happily. “Yes, yes, dear brother. Fuck me like you mean it,” she said voice, steeped with seduction. As his cock pounded into her tight canal. “Mmm,” was all she replied in response as her body ached and sore in the most delicious way. God, it felt amazing.

Paige’s orgasm hit her hard, harder than ever before possibly due to who it’s with contributed quite a bit. Her walls spasming around her digits as she tightened around his cock. “Oh fuck, brother,” she cried out in pleasure, she could sense that he was almost at the precipice “Cum in me,” her desperate plea fell from her lips as he fucked her at a ruthless pace.

Hearing him curse and to have his forehead resting upon her shoulder, with her back drenched in perspiration. Soft whimpers expelled from her throat as her digits rubbed her sensitive clit. With his hands upon her hips holding her steady with his punishing pace of each of his vicious thrusts inside her hole. Both of them exhibited wreckless abandon in such throes of passion.

Her breathing regained to normal as the waves of ecstasy slowly started to ebb from her body. “Oh God,” she purred like a kitten with a satiated smile etched upon her features as she heard him finally come undone. It was her new favorite noise. Feeling his cock expand inside her canal, filling her hole with his potent seed. One of her hands reached behind and grasped harder at his backside. “So good, so good,” she hummed.

Feeling him pull out and spurt some of his milky seed upon her flesh, ignited the fire that still burned brightly. “Oh yes,” she cooed as with hooded eyes as she took in the sight of his work. A low hum of satisfaction escaped as they breathed deeply. “That was fucking incredible, dear brother,” she breathed heavily. She was still quite delirious at all the stars and blinging light that evaded her senses. Incredibly sore, but she still wanted…needed more. Her tongue darted out the wet her lips. “I think…I think it’s about time you take me home. What do you say, brother?” she suggested as her hands grasped his cheeks pulling him closer for a kiss filled with the same amount of urgency as before. Paige can’t see this immense feeling waning in the foreseeable future.

[silversodas]

Don’t Starve Inevitable. Thoughts on Willow and Willson

I wanted to talk about the work that went into Willow and Wilson in this video.

The voice acting/singing. At first I didn’t know how to feel about their voices, but I realized they are perfect.

Wilson is a gentleman, it’s been hinted many times he comes from a more then well off family. It’s also been hinted that he was raised with aristocratic practices like learning music and drawing. Most importantly, learning how to speak.

I could tell Wilson had an English accent, but it also sounded like something else, it sounded vary familiar too. It took me a minute to realize what the something else was. His voice is...trained, for lack of a better word. It is mellifluous and gentle, by design, just vary nice to listen to. I think his gentle way of talking has helped when trying to get Willow not to do something or at least not just flat out ignore him.

Willows voice is good too. She is actually supposed to be in her early 20s and Wilson in his early 30s not an exact number but they have close to a ten year age difference. Her voice sounds young especially when whining. My favorite part of this video is their opening interaction/argument it does so well in showing you their relationship base and the contrast in personalities

“Willow! Stop wasting time! The sun will go down and then we’re left behind”

Even when reprimanding her it sounds so gentle, but he still sounds mad, kinda, I love how they committed to this detail

“Wilson, I am tired, there is no way theses sticks will meet what’s required”

“I know how you think. Your up to some trick. We stick with these sticks”

Willow: “that grove of wood right there is lush and thick-“

Wilson: “Listen”

Willow: “ugh”

The way he gently gets her attention and trying to make her see reason and Willow groaning like a kid who knows they are about to be told no. It hints at the idea that there is an age difference between them. I know that people in the fandom are on two sides, one that insists that they are siblings (metaphorically or biologically, I am not sure) and one that ships them. I really don’t care either way but I have always loved the idea of their friendship. From this we get the idea that they have a working friendship

But that’s mostly due to what I can gage of Willow’s past. She spent time in an impatient and unloving orphanage and has a natural distrust of anyone. Being so much of a loner that she saw being banished to HP Lovecraft’s fervor dream island as a “fresh start” because of his way of speaking and how he does treat her with respect, talking to her as an equal, not a dumb child. I think that has encouraged Willow to trust him.

I wonder if they are doing the arrival order of the story the same as the game. Like Wilson being the first one there and then Willow arriving next, maybe for a time it was just them and that’s why Wilson thinks the others depend on them. Maybe because they have been there the longest.

I don’t want to get my hopes up, but I really want them to fallow up on this. I really like where they are going with Wilson, he has an unexpected mother hen side. Maybe in this narrative they will make his relationship to the other children more significant, like his with Webber. Because Wilson LOVES kids he coos at nearly every kid he comes across, even the ghost children. All of his quotes on the children or their stuff has loving, dosnt always understand but try’s to be supportive, dad energy

I would also like to add that I don’t know why people think he doesn’t like Abigail. Because he does, he coos over how adorable she is in his comment on her, while the others, even Webber are either scared or feel sad for her. He also has a quote when trying to use a tell tale heart on Abigail. It’s hard to tell from text, but it reads vary somberly “It was worth a shot” he hates ghost spiders, and merms but not his kid ghost, spider, or merm

It would be funny if they haven’t meet Abigail yet ( the video implies this is pre-discovery of other survivors abilities) and when they do, Wilson is the only one not scared or freaked out by her, or in Willows case neutrally curious. and while he fawns over her when she is out the others are like “ I thought he hated ghost?”