#esp from my parents n im like

[candyredterezii]

babygirl i am feeling so much weight on my shoulders from other people-

[dullahandyke]

didnt even touch on the sandra lynn stuff int he tags of the last post bcos if i talk about her im liable to explode. get behind me, middle-aged divorced woman proficient in archery

[maiteo]

[cutearose]

okay but how do you ask for help when your childhood makes you feel guilty for needing help and the help that you need feels rude to ask for

[mimikinyuu]

(ooc post: building lore between my two pkmn irl blogs hehe more to come)

[ravengards-rogue]

WHAT SET YOU FREE, BROUGHT YOU TO ME BABY.

rdr2 men + short blurbs about their favorite sex positions.

ft. arthur morgan, john marston, javier escuella, and charles smith.

✧ tags : SPOILER HEAVY, fem + afab!reader, unprotected sex, light angst (in the horny post is crazy im sorry fdkjjkds), very gendered language, javier says one thing in spanish (thank u @nanamimizz), a little sprinkle of plot with each (and some canon divergency), john co-parents w abigail, otherwise just horny. 18+

✧ wc : about 1.4-8k each (6.3k total)

✧ a/n : sorry for making a multi character post for the cowboy game its cooking me to death. my john bias is showing rip. title is from rebel yell by billy idol but i listen to the bvb cover

sorry about charles and javiers but if i edit this anymore im going to level an entire city using hollow purple technique. please rb if you enjoyed i worked kind of hard on whatever this is.

sorry for . the THIRD repost of this i promise i wont after this. its just really bugging me. PLEASE

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ ARTHUR MORGAN + PRONE BONE ; 

It’s an odd feelin’ for Arthur. 

Wanting something, he means. Wanting anything as much as he wants you. He’s lived a less than quiet life up until now. And he ain’t the brightest, certainly, but living this kind of life teaches you many lessons. One of them being, it’s better not to covet anything. Coveting something you’re not entitled to, well—it’ll lead you places you wouldn’t want to go with a gun. 

Arthur has made the mistake of coveting love before, dreamed of a future so completely out of his reach he almost convinced himself it was possible. Dreamed of it so foolishly he’d even go visit a woman he very well ought to forget. It’s his problem, his burden to bear - always desiring outcomes unsuited to him. 

He’s just that sort of man he reckons. But he learned his lesson. He tries (tried?) to stay away from it after that. Tried not to pine too much for normalcy when such hopes had failed him twice. The loss of his child completely on his account and the loss of his love at the same fate. 

So, wanting you - well, he feels like the world's dullest fool. Really. How is it that Arthur had fallen in love with someone again? It had all just happened so quickly. You were another woman he’d saved from the O’Driscolls, though it wasn’t like you were no damsel. A lot of those men were dead by the time they arrived. That sort of perseverance would stick with you while you traveled together. Much like Sadie, you didn’t take well to housework - you liked to earn your keep. Though you’re not nearly so trigger happy. 

You’re quiet, thoughtful, well-read. Plus you’re good at making money. That’s why Dutch don't complain about you joining them, he figures. 

(Arthur tries not to pry into it too much at first, but he eventually learns that you’re gambling. Which is how you’re able to make such a fast turn around. A prim little lady like you makes for a fine poker player, and you love to play men out of their money. He thinks it’s one of the funniest and most interesting things about you. He can’t help but love you a little more for it. )

When the feelings in him start to stir, Arthur tries to overlook it. Arthur convinces himself, time and time again - that there’s no way he’ll grow more tender about you. Eventually, it’ll die down. You’re a decent woman is all, a kind one - who’s easy for him to love and even easier for him to confide in. In your time together, you often come to Arthur and you always seem to have some profound wisdom he is so sorely lacking. Someone easy to love, who does not expect much from Arthur at all. It’s only natural a lonely, covetous man like him would start to dream about you. He tells himself, it will pass eventually. Should he simply let it run by him, it will pass. But Arthurs a fool, you’ll remember. 

 Of course, by the time he understood all that - he already loved you enough that he couldn’t bear it. It was already too late and it wasn’t going to change any time soon. Especially not while everything changed around him. 

So, Arthur is undoubtedly a fool, but he’s lucky. He felt divinely blessed when you’d returned his feelings for him so politely. A coy little smile on your face, a laugh like you thought he was silly for being doubtful. Arthur tried to explain himself but you wouldn’t hear a word of it. Maybe that’s another thing he loves so much about you. There’s nothing he ever needs to explain. 

In any case, all Arthur seems to do lately is want you. Wants you when it’s inconvenient. Wants you before he wants liquor or a cigarette or some other vice. Any time anything goes wrong, you’re the first thing his mind can conjure up for relief. That pretty smile and that self-assured way of living. It’s hard to get time alone in camp. And Arthur is a man in love, so any touch could be enough to set him on fire. Last week you hugged his waist a little before giving him a kiss goodbye and he had to listen to you laugh yourself into a fit as he waited for…little Arthur to settle down. 

He don’t get many chances to be with you. Lay with you in that way that grown folk in love do. Though, if the two of you book it somewhere for a few days - the camp knows better not to ask where you’ve been. But it’s not often you get to really be together, where it’s peaceful to do that. Someone’s always hounding one of you to do something. 

Arthur is a lucky man though, like he said. Today he had time. Today he’s alone with you in a beat up little saloon and today he gets to do as he likes. He gets to be greedy. And it’s an odd feeling for him, really, to want something so bad he disregards everything else in the world for a little while. 

Feeling you, though - absolves the guilt for wanting. He’d be stupid to want you any less desperately. 

Arthur’s favorite way to have you is on your stomach. Laid flat, just barely pushed up against him as he fucks you deep. You’ll fuck like rabbits for a little while and Arthur will wear you out just like this, maneuvering you until you’re pinned all underneath his weight. You lose any fight you might have, too exhausted to worry yourself with pleasing him - and when you’re like that, you let Arthur take care of you. 

(He really ain’t talented at much, but he’s good with his hands. Being dexterous is part of being a talented shot. When Arthur has the time to spread you sweet in his lap and make you cum all over his fingers, he does so for as long as he can. At least until you beg him so sweetly otherwise. The same hands, soiled with gunsmoke, look so good so deep in you. At least in his eyes.)

Wet and pliable and helpless. Arthur loves you like that. He knows, he knows you’re anything but - but he’d be damned to pretend this don’t feel best. Tight, wet cunt so welcoming from all the pleasure he’s ripped out of you. Your bodies pressed together, your heartbeat pulsing through your skin. All sticky, honeyed need and animal desire as Arthur lets all of him sink on top of you. His heavy, lumbering form crushing you in - trapping you somewhere you can’t run from him. The curve of your spine pushed against his chest, ticklish. 

Every inch of his body that so wholly wants for you, Arthur aches to make you feel. Burn it in you lest anything happens that risks your forgetting. 

He can feel his hips meet your ass, backside squished against him - desperate for deeper friction. Whining. You’re whining to him so pretty, a pillow pushed underneath you to give friction to needy clit. 

Arthur can feel how much you want more. Maybe Arthur is greedy, but he likes that look much better on you. Your pussy is sucking him in so tight, silken walls pulsing with every shallow little measured thrust. Arthur lets his arm wrap around your neck, your face pressing into his bicep. You moan again and he laughs. 

“Arthur,” Your words come out in a messy slur. He lets his scruffy face press against your neck, a kiss behind your ear. He wants to kiss you all over. There’s not enough hours in the day. “Oh, god, Arthur,” 

“Still feels good, then, I’m guessin’,” 

“Shut up,” You huff and press your cheek into his arm. He doesn’t bother stifling his laugh. “Still feels…big. Stretchin’ me out—hicc—so much,” 

You really don’t try to rile him up - but you do a damn good job of it anyway. He groans, grunts as he pulls back and pistons himself in you. A gesture half-way between a kiss and the warning shot of a gun. The sound of skin hitting skin echoes, noisy and vulgar. Arthur don’t pay it much mind. He laughs against your shoulder.

“One of these days, that moutha’ yours is gonna get me in real trouble.” 

You giggle back at him 

“What kinda trouble is that now?” 

Even from your side glance, you’ve got that lovely little smile on you. Fuckdrunk and ingratiating, like you know he’s wrapped so tight around your fingers. And he is, like nothing else in the world could have him. A wave of possession curls up over Arthur, makes him press more of himself into you. Onto you. Another deep push of his cock, sliding against the tenderest parts of you. Staking some silent desire in you. He wants and wants and wants, and hopes that whatevers above him can forgive him for making the same mistake thrice. 

“Dunno,” Arthur comments, teeth grazing your shoulder and kissing the indentations “Got our whole lives together to find out, I reckon.” 

“I’ll hold you to it, Mister.” 

Arthur laughs. “Hope you do, Miss.” 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ JOHN MARSTON + COWGIRL ;

John doesn’t say that he loves you lightly. 

Hardly a thing he says can be said that way. Could never afford too. In an alternate universe where nothing goes wrong in his life, maybe - but he has a hard time picturing what the hell that’d look like. A version of himself so untainted, without all of the violence and blood and gunsmoke? Foreign. John can’t picture it worth a damn. 

Who John is without a deadbeat father and a dead Ma is somewhere far beyond his reach. Ain’t nothing about his life, at any point, lighthearted. 

On top of all that mess, he’s got a boy at age four with a woman he ain’t married too. And that relationship is always on rocky waters, even though John’s decided to do right by his own flesh and blood sometime ago. Most things in the world he should feel good about he doesn’t, and most things he should understand render him clueless. He’s a mess on multiple accounts, and he still doesn’t know how exactly he’s meant to approach this life of his. He knows what he should do, but nothing about how to do it. 

John doesn’t come to love you easily ‘cause he wouldn’t know easy love if it hit him in his face. Quickly and painfully, but not easily. 

Your return to the gang was an odd one. You were an old presence and your disappearance was an even older story. John thought he’d never gonna see you again for sure. You’d been a part of the gang back long before all of the nonsense that took place in Blackwater and you left about the time Arthur’s boy died. John don’t remember why you left exactly. He thinks it was a fight with Hosea, of all things.

 Dutch weren't too happy about it neither, but Dutch back then didn’t make a show. 

So you left, and John buried every feeling he ever harbored. You found all them again up in Colter, where you’d been living out your days lately. According to you, in the middle of riding, you thought you’d heard Arthur. So, somewhat recklessly, you went chasing him. Didn’t matter if he was just something your mind conjured. According to you, if it was him, it was at least worth checking to make sure. You’d reunited with Arthur and after some tears, he rode with you back to camp. 

Upon your return, the gang welcomed you with open arms. 

You’d done a lot in your time alone.You spent most of that time just like that, a ghost wanderin’ the planes. You weren’t gonna stay with ‘em, but Arthur insisted and Hosea did too. That wasn’t enough to compel, so John was last to chip in. You should stay, at least until Valentine. 

(Silently he thought, you should stay so John can trace memories of you. It was so long ago, he should’ve forgotten all of it. You were a year older than John and always on his ass but easy for him to talk to. Didn’t fuss over his failures. You just barely grew into your womanhood when you set your sights on running away. You wanted more than this life, and John never really forgave you for it. His first heartbreak, maybe - but it’s all too blurry for that. 

You understood him though better than anyone, and one day you were gone. Nothing’s really the same.) 

You changed tremendously and not at all. He missed you. God, did he ever. Missed you a long time. Didn’t realize how much until you came back and everything in him felt right again. Your return stirred up old feelings and everyone noticed. He wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, but he really wasn’t trying to fall back into anything with you. Not how he did. 

Just like you did back then, you read John like an open book. And just like he did back then, he loved you all too helplessly for it.  It was just all too easy again, to be with you. 

You stayed out of the way at first, for the sake of his family. 

But, John ain’t a half-decent man even when he’s trying to be. So he set himself on being with you. It wasn’t easy - most things with him aren’t as you’ll see.  Having you around again straightened what was left of his common sense, at least. He told Abigail before telling you. He figured you wouldn’t even reply unless that was all out of the way. That turned out as well as you’d expect.

 It was settled between the two of you thereafter. He’s lucky she didn’t toss him into the street. 

Everything works out in a way. As best they can between broken people. You make peace with each other. His boy loves you like a third parent (you’re better with him than John is). Abigail commends you for straightening out such a worthless man though she’s a little melancholy.  John just tries to stay out of the way. You’ll be together in the end. There’s a plan with the five of you. 

But until it all falls apart, he doesn’t get all that much time with you. 

There’s moments like tonight, though. Rare ones. Together out robbin’, cooped out some place in the woods where no one is around. A place so shaded by nightfall that John can absolve himself of every sin he’s ever committed in his life and pray at the altar between your hips. John is convinced he might find worship like he’s always hearing about there whenever he touches you, the marred skin of his hands and knuckles reading the scripture of your body with careful precision. 

You might turn him into a literate man yet. 

John glances up at you. Only the light of the fire and the moonlight there to accompany as he watches you over him. You’re beautiful. John couldn’t picture a single thing more perfect in his life. 

Your hands against his bare chest, nails digging into the flesh as you lean forward. Your palm dug into the dirt, John finds his own hands rested at your hips. John looks at you awe-struck, cock twitching at the mere sight. His heart settles in his throat, but he’s calm all at the same time. With you, he forgets. All of it. The worst of himself. 

Bare naked and so close, he watches your face as you strain. You feel soft. Every inch of you in comparison to him is. A bead of sweat slides down the valley of your breasts. John cranes his neck up to catch it with his tongue, licking a stripe up to your neck - letting his teeth sink into the space between your jaw and neck. You want to make it last and John doesn’t blame you. It’s so rare you get to have each other so unrestrained. John can feel all the ways you want him, can see it in your face - all pinched with need. You’re holding yourself back, trying to get it to last as long as the night will allow. It’s cute in a way.

It’s different than how he’s used to seein’ you, all cocky or otherwise. You’re needy like this. Just needy. His stomach turns with lust, jolting through him like a strike of lightning. His cock twitches against your folds, sliding against them. Pure admiration watching the sticky mess of his pre-cum and your own arousal mix together and smear on your mound. You make a soft noise in the back of your throat, faint and tender as you fall forward just a little. John laughs against your neck. 

“Darlin’,” He says with a huff. Not malice. Something akin to bliss, where he can rarely afford it “Have I done something to piss you off today?” 

You pick yourself up and look down at him and frown. John kisses the corner of your mouth, resisting some crude desire to fuck up into you. 

“Just,” You grunt as the tip of his cock passes over your throbbing clit, your whole body wracking to a shiver. John looks awed. “Pent up. Goddamn it,” 

John figures it out quickly after that. It’s this part of it he likes. The proximity. The closeness. Feeling the tremble in your hands as they struggle to keep up right, muscles strained in your forearms. Being able to hold you, to keep the pace or let you take the lead. The clear view of your face as pleasure travels up through your spine and melts into you. He grabs your hips, the fat dimpling underneath his fingers as he moves you along. He can’t wait. You don’t bother to protest seeing John can’t seem to bear it anymore. You collapse into his chest, your tits pushed flat against his pecs.

His cock throbs near painfully, sliding against your soft cunt before finding himself lined with you. He thinks to himself that it’s this he was looking for, as he tucks your face against his neck and lets his tip stretch you out slowly. Such a vice like grip, stretching - resisting him like your whole body can’t anticipate the sensation of fullness. You gasp against his throat. 

“John,”  

What a sweet sound from your mouth, even sweeter as he bucks himself up. Keeps you steady and lets his cock stretch you full, feel you deep. “That’s right, my angel. Didn’t think you’d remember my name when you’re all worked up like this.” 

“You’re,” You gasp and John thrusts, thrusts hard until he’s buried to the hilt. You shudder, walls pulsing around him as he bottoms out and John laughs like the terrible man he is. He fucks you again, over and over - a wicked little smile watching “Awful. Just awful, John Marston,” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” He hums against your mouth as his hand snakes between your bodies, thumb rubbing against your clit. “Wonder what kinda woman that makes you,” 

“A foolish one,” 

John laughs. 

“I sure do love you for it,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆JAVIER ESCUELLA + SIDEWAYS ;

Javier hasn’t thought about much other than surviving. 

It’s been like that. Been like that for a while, probably much longer than he cares to admit. He’s sure any sane man would suffer the same plight if they lead the same life. Anything but survival is little more than a pipe-dream, so Javier tries not to go for anything too strongly. In that aspect he’s like many of the members of the gang he’s in, perhaps that’s why he sticks to them. There’s that phrase Hosea’s always saying - that misery loves company. Javier will take any decent company he can get.  He’s desperate for it just like he’s desperate for most things - inwardly, silently. 

Some of that desperation may be symptomatic of who he is. After he killed a man in a crime of passion for a woman he loved and ran from a government who would sooner exile him than change, Javier decided to not dream anymore. Every revolutionary who dreams too hopefully pays the price in blood.

(Javier thinks there’s probably nothing in the world as true as this. A form of gospel. He remembers the first dream he ever had after his uncle passed. Not a nightmare but a dream. He remembers the exact feeling of waking up, cold and confused. What is a dream, except a memento of survivor's guilt that loyal people cling onto fruitlessly. When hope starts to feel like a debt he’s going to waste his life paying back, Javier loses sight of everything. The beginning of the end in some way.) 

His mind doesn’t occupy itself with anything bigger than that. Since Dutch found him starving, there was never a desire to try and live off aspirations. He pays his penance with loyalty and honor. Practices some form of humility and tries, not too desperately, to carve a place for him to fit. All without drawing too much attention or caring too much. If you ignore the bleeding in his fingers, his penchant for knives over guns, and his refusal to talk too long about the place he comes from - it’s nearly believable that none of it matters. 

Except loyalty. All Javier honors is that. It’s the only thing he has some part in choosing, so he choses it every time. Living like that didn’t make any difference to him. He was surrounded by mostly decent people. He didn’t hate the life he was living. 

It wasn’t important. It didn’t matter. His directionless-ness, his floating. Hadn’t since he joined the gang. At least not to anyone but him. He didn’t know what he’s meant to do or if he was meant to proceed with this forever. He was (is)  loyal to Dutch. To the gang. 

He hadn’t thought much about what comes after. 

And it didn’t matter until he met you

He’d sworn off love after seeing where it got him, at least until he could love more dispassionately. When the women bring you back from their outing from Valentine and beg Dutch to let you stay, Javier doesn’t think much of it all. He thinks you’re pretty, if it counts for anything. But he doesn’t let himself linger on you too long. 

But that’s the sequence with you two, really. The whole time.  He doesn’t linger until he does. It doesn't matter until it does. He doesn’t think about you until it’s all he can think about. 

You go for him first. And it’s in little, unimportant ways that might not mean shit to you but mean a whole lot to him. You have some kind of tenderness about you that you wear deep, runs through your blood like love ran through his once long ago. Some softness he can’t really measure with his own. It’s not that that gets him. It’s that sometimes you look at Javier like he's … someone you want to see. He forgot what that was like all together. It felt foreign to him the first time it happened. Seeing how you light up when Javier is around. 

You wanted to see him. You noticed that he’s gone. If he sang by the campfire - you’d sit by him and listen.  If he was out in the trees keeping guard, he’d hear the soft call of your voice to Grimshaw ask Where’s Javier? And sometimes the girls will make fun of you - but you wouldn’t deny anything they said. It’s so small and ordinary. He would’ve never considered himself simple before meeting you. Nothing is simple. Nothing. 

(But then, Javier thinks of the kinds of songs he sings and the way he takes care of himself and the clothes he wears and maybe Javier has some kind of affinity for preciousness that explains all of it.) 

When Javier confesses his feelings for you - he finds the affair to be like most things between you. Ordinary love, not really between outlaws but people. It’s up against a tree while you share a drink and he’s looking at the curve of your mouth and the plum color Karen’s so kindly put on you. And his head fills with kissing you so he does. A breathless confession between alcohol stains and the feeling of your hands curled in the lapels of his suit. 

From there, Javier is your lover. He’s not interested in the business of secrets, but he tries not to let it show too much. Not that he doesn’t want to. He wants to show you off more than anything - at least some part of him does. But the other part wants to keep you away from prying eyes, keep his love for you only where the both of you can see. If he could keep that pretty lovestruck face you make all to himself forever he would. 

When he gets a chance to whisk you away from everything, Javier jumps at the chance. Not often, but Javier makes time for you. Makes time to indulge in love he thought he’d  never find again. 

That’s why he’s here with you in the middle of nowhere, a ghost town where no one knows you.. A reserved room with a bed and lowlights all to yourselves. 

Javier can’t keep his hands to himself and he doubts you expect him too. 

For Javier, this sense of proximity is what intoxicates him most. The warmth of your bare skin in the slivers of yourself exposed. Javier is fond of finding you like this after a long day of horse riding. Of sneaking touches to your waist as you push back against him to sleep, only to find his desire for you - laid clearly. He likes hearing you whimper feeling his length poke against your back, the embarrassment when it dawns on you that he wants you after all. Always surprised, even though Javier tells you it so often. Whispers it along your neck and shoulders whenever you’re at camp together.

You like the feeling of his hands so Javier always starts with them. He squeezes your hips. Planes his palms over your chest before squeezing your chest, pushing the fat between his fingers. You like the way  they look when they grope you, his chin resting against your shoulder as you spoon. In the lowlights of a cheap hotel - Javier gets the perfect view of your silhouette. Your body is sensitive over the fabric of your gown, heat prickling through you. 

Javier who is always so gentle with you, rouses so deep listening to your whining as he explores your body. The suffocating closeness of a single bed intoxicates him. 

“Javier,” Your voice is sweet and thin. Plays in Javier’s head like music and makes his mouth curl up into a catlike grin as you push back on him.  You look slightly over your shoulder, lips pushed into a pout. “Please,” 

He tugs at the fabric of your nightgown. The top half pulls haphazard underneath your tits, nipples perky and sensitive to touch while the skirt pools at your waist. What gets Javier like this is the desperation. Wanting so much but not being able to look too long. A way for you to mirror him, it��s a matter of possession. In some stupid way. Bunching your clothes up, pushing the fabric of your panties to one side, letting his arm wrap around your waist to touch and tease.  All of these are imprints of his longing, tucked faithful into your side as he whispers sweet nothings into your skin.

His cock twitches as it pushes past your folds with finality, your hands curling up at your sides.  You whimper softly, let your cheek rest against the sheets as Javier takes you on your side. Terribly close, you fuss as you feel him slide every inch into you slow, your hands reaching back for purchase. It’s the fit of you against him so perfect, the silent strokes of intimacy, the hush-hush giggles between the sheets that Javier loves most about fucking you like this. Too enamored with you to look too closely, he lets his eyes flutter closed. He could get drunk just being in your space. 

He carves out space for himself inside of you, feels your cunt accommodate for him like it loves him. A feverishness breaks out as his forehead rests on the space between your shoulders, an uncharacteristic whiny quality in his words. 

“Ser mío,” Javier says - as a reflection of what he really wants, to belong only to you. “Belong to me.” 

Darling as you always are, you nod softly. 

“All yours, Javier,” You whimper, finding his hand. “Forever,”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆ CHARLES SMITH + MATING PRESS ; 

Wandering. 

He’s been doing it his whole life. Not something he’s proud of. Or ashamed of either, really. Just how things have gone for him until now. Charles doesn’t think his life has been any better or any worse than anyone else's. At least not when he weighs it with the same kind of pragmatism he does most things. It’s been a hard life, and a miserable one in so many ways. Still, it’s not something Charles is too keen to dwell on. 

There’s just something thematic about loss in Charles' life in a way he finds completely unpleasant. It’s more constant than anything. Loss of his home, loss of his mother, loss of his father in an attempt to find what’s best for him. It’s some overarching message that hangs over his head like a shadow. Everywhere he goes, trying to rectify his own solitude seems to come back to him. It doesn’t help that it’s an unfair world to start with, and would’ve been if he had just been black or just been native. But Charles is both, and has lived a life that reflects that specific injustice thoroughly. 

There’s not really anything Charles can do about it, at its baseline. When he left his father, the name of the game had simply been survival. He was well-equipped enough for that at least. But after survival comes trying to live and trying to live isn’t something so simple. Jumping in and out of gangs who thought they could get away with slighting him or generally being surrounded by unpleasant people. Trying to find something in pages of book and scripture, or in the way water ripples when it rains. 

He’s never felt any one way towards the gang. Even when he joined them all the way back in the Grizzlies. Lost in the cold, they’d crossed paths as Charles was out hunting. A lot of it feels like a blur. Of all the folks he’s met in his travels though, Dutch treats him fair and the rest of them (or most of them) are decent, honest folk. Charles stays in the Van Der Linde gang for such simple reasons as trying to stay alive and be somewhere that isn’t actively hostile towards him. He’s a good gunman, and a better fighter. The inner workings of gang politics and forging connection isn’t at the forefront of his mind, with the exception of the kindest few. 

The Van Der Linde gang is just a place where he can figure out what his purpose is meant to be, even if he doesn’t find it there. He’s never expecting anything to come out from his loyalties to it. 

Of all the things Charles expects of his life in the Van Der Linde gang, love is at the very bottom of the list. 

Maybe it’s about time he stops being surprised by these things happening to him one or way another.

 You were a member of the gang far before him, and someone Charles took to quickly. You’d joined the gang not too long after John from what Arthur tells him. Though the brunette speaks about you more fondly than he does his brother. A problem child at the start, according to Arthur - always getting into all sorts of trouble. Something you seemingly feel embarrassed about now and refuse to bring up. Charles has a hard time picturing it having only known you as you are. 

The woman you’ve grown into is someone else completely, and Charles sees that in you all the time. Compassionate like Hosea but charismatic like Dutch, and clever. And you’re beautiful, too, though Charles feels a little shallow admitting that’s part of what drew you into him. 

It wasn’t Charles that approached you first. You were the one who spoke to him, as often as you thought necessary but never in a way he found invasive. He doesn’t know what it is exactly about you that charms him near instantly. You’re enigmatic to a fault. It’s like you always know exactly what to say and exactly when to say it. Even more than that, you’re a terribly pleasant person to be around. Subtly warm and free of assumptions. When Charles talks to you about anything, you listen without making him feel like it’s any sort of burden to you. You don’t pry, don’t make missteps. Treat him fair, and then some. 

It’s unbearably simple, just how quickly and how easily he comes to adore you.  And, in some ways, Charles knows better than to believe that his purpose is loving someone. There’s more to it than that, surely - after everything. 

But then, he’ll watch you do something. Watch you do some kind of menial work that he could do for you instead. Thinks of skinning animals for new clothes and chopping wood and rubbing the soap off of you and all of a sudden it makes him feel anchored. Everything he could do for you. You anchor Charles easily, with a wispy smile. Make him want to find purpose in life with you. He never wants to be somewhere you’re not. 

He confesses it to you just like that, and like you do with most things - you accept and reciprocate without making too much of a fuss. 

For Charles, making love is an extension of wanting to ground himself in you. A distant siren song - the intersection of lust and bone deep adoration. Like most things, you’re the one to approach first every time. A soft hand on his forearm, a whisper that you want him. It’s with ease that he draws you away. Drags from you camp during nightfall with his horse and blankets and picks a spot with the perfect view of the stars. 

Charles watches you under the glow of moonlight, his vision adjusting to you easily. Naked underneath him, laid on your back with your legs folded at your knees - heaving deep breaths. He can see the sweat beading down your skin, your chest rising and falling - and the perfect view of your pussy. His hands and mouth are wet as you breathe out. He finds himself smiling at you, his own erection pressed against your thigh, pre-cum leaking out in a mesmerized haze. 

You lift your hands up and he leans down, surprised as you wrap them around his neck and pull him closer to you. Your mouths meet like that, and Charles laughs against your lips as you kiss him so eagerly. You blink at him, pretty. You’re always prettier than he remembers you being the last time he looks. 

“Charles,” You frown at him. “It’s impolite to keep a lady waiting,” 

He kisses the corner of your mouth. “Sorry, my love. I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“Well, I’m fine with it,” You repeat, almost petulant. Charles frowns. “‘Sides, it ain’t my first time taking you, you know?” 

“Well, I’m not fine with it.” 

You pout, looking at him all endeared. Charles couldn’t help but love you even if he tried. “You ain’t gonna hurt me. C’mon. Please?” 

“Please, what?” 

You look at him aghast before breaking out into a faux-scandalized giggle. “Now you—please fuck me. Pretty, please.” 

Charles feels something tickling against his spine hearing you say it. He couldn’t imagine getting sick of you in his whole life.  “Yeah, that’s good to hear.” 

You make an indignant noise but it’s silenced quickly as Charles positions himself against your entrance. He has plenty of discipline when it comes to matters like these, but right now - he feels like he’s going to lose his mind. Not nearly enough patience to wait. He lets his hands go up underneath your knees just to have something to hold onto. 

You make a little gasp as the tip of his cock pushes into you. Your walls are so soft, likely after all the orgasms he’d given you prior. You stop him in a shocked gasp, and Charles immediately readies himself to pull out. As if sensing his hesitance, you shake your head. 

“Charles,” You gasp, the words caught in your throat and hoarse “Deep. Want it deep,” 

His abdomen tightens, cocking twitching hard at your words. He agrees silently to your desires. 

When it comes to sex, there’s very little Charles dislikes.

But this is his favorite. He’s simple but no other position lets him see you so close. He likes the way your eyes widen as he pushes up underneath your knees and folds you underneath his weight. How you look pinned down under him, the perfect view of your eyes rolling back into your head and the proximity from your face to his. He lets his cock stretch you out slowly, throbbing each time your nails dig desperately into arms trying to keep your composure. Fuck you feel so tight like that. Soft pussy, dripping and sticky. You suck him in relentlessly, and Charles groans as he bottoms out. You take every inch of him so well. So perfect like the rest of you. 

Your eyes flutter open as he stays there, buried in you in complete bliss. You’re dazed. 

“Kiss?” 

Surprise followed by adoration, he abides by your request easily. Overwhelmed with it as he presses a chaste peck to your mouth, he laughs. “As many as you want.”

Anything you want, Charles thinks, he would give to you. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[formulafics]

★ MRS. ALL AMERICAN | AA23

Scenario: logan sargeant’s sister meets alex for the first time at the miami grand prix, and the two quickly hit it off. unfortunately, the pair are met with some criticism from fans.

Pairing: alex albon x sargeant!fem!reader, logan sargeant x sargeant!reader (siblings), oscar piastri x fem!sargeant!reader (platonic)

A/N: after a long drought, i have returned to feed my alex lovers , and esp @renarots she’s been WAITING for this one 😼🫶🏻

PART TWO

ynsargeant

liked by alex_albon, logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 23,456 others

ynsargeant MIAMI BABY got reunited with @/oscarpiastri and @/logansargeant

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oscarpiastri pretty sure this is like the 6th time you’ve posted that picture

⤷ ynsargeant and i’d do it again <;3

logansargeant were so back

⤷ ynsargeant yeah until you leave again 💔

user237891 thank god this gp is over. wasn’t even a bad race but somehow yn’s presence made it unbearable

⤷ norrisnation yall be yapping about anything fr

⤷ rizzciardo ofc ure a man hating on her stfu

user2190 idk what’s worse. logan’s driving or his sister

alex_albon

liked by logansargeant, ynsargeant, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 212,345 others

alex_albon in the sunshine state for summer break ☀️💛

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ynsargeant i love you 🫶🏻

hamilfan oh they’re fr dating? 😦

formulafan3 you’re better than this alex 😔

formulasargeant parents 🫶🏻

⤷ xxf1x be so fr 💀 nobody likes them

dannyricontop y’all think she’s gonna be in austin?

⤷ xxf1x i hope not 💀 she’d ruin the only good american race

⤷ formulalala LMAO fr

albonoooo YALL ARE SO CUTE IM GONNA THROW UP

ynsargeant

liked by alex_albon, logansargeant, georgerussel63, pierregasly, and 23,478 others

ynsargeant austin activities include the beatles, bolo ties, and barbecue. (AND APPARENTLY DOUBLE POINTS HELLO? GOD BLESS AMERICA)

*comments on this post have been disabled*

alex_albon

SNEAKING OUT OF HEAVEN - Waterparks 🎶

liked by ynsargeant, logansargeant, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 237,892 others

alex_albon hate us cause they ain’t us

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ynsargeant i know that’s right. ilysm

⤷ alex_albon i love you 😚

⤷ f1quartetlvr mom and dad </3

formulasargeant ALEXANDER. THE LYRICS RO THE SOMG??

dreamyalex KM IN CLASS YOU CANT JUST DDROP THIS EN ALEX

albonosargeant WAR IS OVER FOR THE ALEXYN LOVERS

logansargeant happy for you guys 🫶🏻 love you sis @/ynsargean

general taglist | @renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @minkyungseokie @harrysdimple05 @lokietro @spidersophie @topguncultleader @motorsp0rt @vellicora @leclercvsx @piasstrisblog @cixrosie @vroomvroomverstappen @arkhammaid @stopeatread

[torantuga]

are.you.an.angel..

I've been looking for AleNoah as dads my entire life man!!! You're like.. sent from above!!

..

wait how did they get MK then..

did Noah and Emma have MK then divorce, and then Noah gained custody..or is she just adopted..

I don't know if you mind me doing this but like,

I like to imagine :3.. that Aleheather broke up and Nemma actually got married but divorced so then MK is just like..there. Then boom Noah and Alejandro meet again and they're like "btw did you know in World Tour I loved you" "fr!? Me.me too!" "do you wanna get married" "yea!!!!"

yea. (I may have gotten Raj into the mix..bleh.)

Wow this is incredibly long sorry about that drink water and have a lovely day!!!!!

-⏰

OKAY I ACCIDENTALLY MAY IR MAY HAVE NOT MADE A CHART THAT EXPLAINS THE AU THANKS TO THIS ASK (IN MY EYES) !!

i personally dont like the idea of the women in the respective relationships abandoning the men to let them be gay w each other, esp since so many people that write similar things end up making emma just straight up abandon the family cause of stress. its way too convinient yknow, jst my opinion, and it makes emma look bad (which shes way too awesome) i think she would be very close w the mudaliar-burromuerto family but as a close friend/honorary aunt sorta way.

but your idea of the au is cool! i like it.

this is kinda of like a long answer to your question being like. how did they have mk.....

okay so.

how did they end up together? i inspired myself from a fic that is literally just noah being alejandro's only visitor in the hospital post-WT. they become friendly and, since the burromuerto family sees alejandro as an embarrassment for being too vulnerable and letting himself lose the million dollars in front of many people, leaving him being kicked out, they eventually end up moving together! its kind of a slowburn college romance if im being honest. and once theyre juniors/seniors in college, they end up getting together.

so. hooow do they adopt mk? since its from birth? wouldnt they be super young? EXACTLY

theyre young parents due to alejandro being pressured from his side of the family to at least get a child if he's going to keep being a failure. this hurts ale deeply and he genuinely starts to panic, thinking he should raise a kid as soon as possible. he manages to convince noah that its true baby fever and that they'll be wonderful parents, even though normally "ideal" parents marry and then have children.

they search for a while and eventually come across someone who was thinking of adoption whilst pregnant, and the three of them worked very hard to make it possible. so in 2007, MK is born, and adopted into the mudaliar-burromuerto family. (i do not know SHIT about adoption so i wont make much detail about it)

of course, not being married and having a child was also critizised, so they quickly married around a year or two later. (it took a while to cut the burromuerto family out of his life, but back then ale was very young and very easily manipulated by his family)

so, around 6 years later, they adopt another kid, which was already a year old, but who really didnt have a name. he was dropped off at an orphanage when he was around 6 months old, but he didnt seem to be registrated anywhere. ale n noah, curious, took on the role to foster care this kid and came up w a name for him, which alejandro chose, nicolás. they adopted him soon after

so yeah full story!!! may be susceptible to change!! wahoo!!

[s-4pphics]

y’all… im breaking my silence…. dbf!abby fic in the works.

but since idk when im gonna start writing i made a hc list so i can remember what i wanna write about

im so excited omg doing this for the nasty raunchy gworlies i love yall

wc;cw mad short like 400, descriptions of sex MDNI!!!!, dassit omg im so excited 2 write this

meeting ur dads new coworkers was… not what u expected

ur father was very outgoing

loves meeting new ppl and making friends :D 

so when he relocated for work three years ago he had no struggles connecting with the new ppl he was surrounded by

everyone loves him! n so do you!

but u knew he would be absolutely disgusted by u and his closest work friend if he saw u with ur face in the pillows as she drilled u into ur mattress :/

ur dad got called into a business meeting early that morning and ur mom was at work 

meaning u were left by yourself 

>:)

u didn’t hesitate to text abby and tell her ab how desperate u were for shut eye

please come take care of me? im really tired and i need to sleep :(

and she didn’t even bother to reply

u just heard a knock on the front door 20 mins later 

and got ate out against it

u never would’ve expected u n abby’s relationship would end up like this 

esp after the first time u met her…

ur parents had no issue with u being at home while u finished grad school 

so when u came home and found the cutest woman you’d ever seen drinking a glass of wine with ur parents u were stunned 

and horny 

her gaze was electric the minute she looked at u standing by the front door 

u were exhausted and ur eyes were burning from all the notes u just reread for the 4th time

but u perked up instantly when she subtly looked u up n down… twice!! 

she got up n introduced herself so sweetly to u 

soft handshake gentle voice flushed cheeks and she smelled like fresh flowers and wine 

ur heart was pounding in ur ears and ur body felt like it was dunked in a scorching pot of oil

she was so sweet to u. ur touched starved ass was not used to this type physical closeness!!

who would’ve thought such a kind woman would be so nasty in bed :,)

she’s so sensual and attentive!! u wake up and think about how good she split u open the night b4 n how talked u through ur nut 

how good she tastes

how loud she is when she cums 

she’s so pussydrunk 4 u <3 

who knew good sex could improve focus!!! 

u got ur notes done in a nic of time the next day!!

[manicpixiefelix]

Me projecting but neurodivergent!L/N Siblings who need to decompress after every party or dinner their parents host at the family home. Retreating to the refuge of their bedrooms where they shrug off the uncomfortable clothes, scrub at their faces and hair, flop down on the bed or floor. Listen to music while gazing up at the ceiling, tapped out after forced smiles and pleasantries.

oh my GOD this ended up being 1.8k of pure oliver/felix/reader fluff ft. oliver & reader knowing each other so well they can communicate silently, reader becoming nonverbal after events, and the l/n siblings inviting felix to chill and relax with them in these moments after events because they know he understands and feels a similar kind of pressure to what they go through. also yeah big same on the projecting neurodivergent!L/N Siblings, esp. the reader, because Me Too. this got out of hand lol maybe i should have just published it as a full fic, but i love this au v much. i know including Fi probably wasn't what you expected but........ i had to sorry lol.

but also since this is technically an ask im gonna include a song for the vibe, which is Talk Me Down by Troye Sivan because Blue Neighbourhood will always make me emotional.

The first time Felix ever sees the two of you truly unmask is after one of the smaller gatherings his parents held early that first Summer. He's not quite sure when the shift occurred, but he very quickly became aware of it. Oliver by your side, and usually at least comfortable offering quiet additions to conversations for himself, started to simply murmur his thoughts to you, before finally becoming nonverbal. Somehow you were still able to interpret from the things he didn't say, but you were clearly growing weary too. Oliver gives thin lipped smiles, but at least he's given the grace to appear haughty by your shoulder; your smile never drops, but it doesn't reach your eyes.

For a brief moment that the pair of you have to yourselves, Felix watches a whole conversation pass between you and Oliver from merely a look that you share. You link your pinky with Oliver's, and he perches his chin on your shoulder; a brief moment of relaxation and serenity as you both let your eyes close, tension relaxing for a beat at you press your forehead to his. Felix has the strangest sensation, like he can hear the way you two share an I love you without either saying a single word.

You say good night to all the gathered guests, and Felix family, on behalf of yourself and your brother not too long after Felix witnesses the exchange. You get handshakes and kisses on the cheek, and Oliver makes sure, even if he remains quiet, to give winning smiles and kiss the older, sophisticated ladies on the hand like a true gentleman. Felix tries to ask if you're both alright when you get to him, last of all, and though you both smile, it's not quite believable. At least to him. But he lets you leave.

He makes his own exit soon after. Oliver's room is the closest to his, so it makes the most sense to go there first. At least he'd have some sort of excuse. He goes through his own room first, suit jacket haphazardly tossed on the bed and tie along with it, already unbuttoning several of his buttons to make himself more comfortable. Crossing the bathroom he strides confidently to Oliver's door and knocks.

No answer.

"Ollie, it's me," he says gently, "are you okay, you just seemed a bit -" the door opens very slightly and it's you peering back at him. You're not smiling. You're not... anything. You blink at him. Felix takes a moment to reassess the situation, then you open the door wider and you step back into the room, no longer watching him. Felix feels like he's intruding the minute he realises both you and Oliver have stripped down to your underwear; he's stumbling through apologies, suddenly bashful under Oliver's watchful gaze where he's splayed out on the bed, a tired kind of curiosity in his eyes. But neither of you seem particularly bashful yourselves, nor are you running to cover yourselves.

Felix watches you stretch yourself out on the bed beside your brother, looking up at the ceiling as you blindly reach for a single earphone you know will be waiting where you'd obviously left it on the pillow. He settles himself, tries to remind himself that you'd both let him in on this moment. You close your eyes.

"Is everything okay?" This time the concern is genuine. In this moment, Felix is surprised when Oliver appears to take the lead for you both. For just a moment, he reaches across himself to gently pet your hair.

"What is to give light must endure burning," he says faintly, before turning to Felix with that same, faint but tired smile, "thought you'd know what it's like to be the sun, Felix." And, yes, of course Felix knows what he means... except in situations where comparisons are drawn with the two of you.

Before he can ponder too much, however, you shift on the bed, almost imperceptibly, but Oliver purses his lips.

"I'm not pretentious," he says out loud, and Felix realises it's more for his benefit than yours; he often marvels at the strange, silent way the two of you can so clearly communicate. It happens again; you barely crack your eye open, levelling an indecipherable look at your brother as your lips quirk into the faintest smile. In response, Oliver rolls his eyes and tells you to shut up, though his tone is fond.

Then, after another moment, your gaze lands on Felix. Suddenly he feels it all, the exhaustion, the ache of keeping up appearances, the restrictiveness of the formalwear he's been coaxed into. Everything's too much, and the two of you, window open with a faint breeze, wearing next to nothing and allowing yourselves to just be after the pressure of performing, it sounds fucking heavenly.

"How are you going, Felix?" Oliver asks, following your gaze, almost like he can read Felix's mind. Maybe he can. Maybe that's how the two of you can operate so seamlessly, so unspokenly between each other. Both of you are looking at him now. He feels incredibly overdressed. He laughs awkwardly, but suddenly can't seem to look at either of you. The words get stuck in throat for a moment.

'Thought you'd know what it's like to be the sun, Felix' is what Oliver had said; not feel like the sun. To be the sun. Because you both know how the rest of Felix's life orbits around him, except for the two of you. You've so warped his reality, his own orbit, he's had no choice; Oliver is the moon to your sun, but what does that make him?

Binary stars; Felix is still the sun in his own life, but he could never match your gravity once he's come across you, nor could he escape it.

"Kind of like I'm burning, I guess."

As soon as he says it, he knows it was the right answer. Both you and Oliver shuffle away from each other, making distinct room between you on the bed, an unspoken invitation.

This is one of the big turning points in the relationship, Felix realises as he's undressing, trying to keep his heartbeat under control. He can't believe he's here, that this is really happening; this is nowhere near what he'd expected when he went knocking on Ollie's door.

"What are you listening to?" He asks awkwardly as he makes his way onto the bed from over the foot of it. You, eyes once more closed, pulled the earphones from the iPod by your side. Once you pressed play once more, Felix hears Amy Winehouse croon from the little speakers. He flops on his back between you both and stares up at the ceiling. It's strange, he almost feels like he's waiting for something to happen, though it does feel much freer with the breeze and only in his boxers.

After a beat, you let out a low, contented hum, shuffling closer to Felix, enough that you were able to press your cheek to his shoulder.

"Yeah," Oliver agrees quietly to whatever he'd gleaned from your movement and noises, "'s a lot to be out there in the world sometimes," to which Felix makes a faint noise of agreement. He feels your fingers wrap carefully around his arm, and your face turns to press firmer against his shoulder. Your lips are against his skin when you hum again, and he feels like his whole body lights up with the contact. Oliver, who's head is on the pillow beside Felix, turns to look at him; he's not smiling, but there's fondness in his gaze, unfiltered, so unused to how he usually looks at Felix, "you're always welcome here if you need time like this. We won't tell if you won't."

You nod against Felix's shoulder, Felix feels like he's about to pass out with how hard his heart is beating.

Because he knows you both, has seen you operate together in the world for the better part of a year in person, and years before in the tabloids before that. This exhaustion, this clear detox from an uncomfortable foray into society, is not something the rest of the world is ever allowed to see.

And you're inviting him into it.

Felix falls asleep there, between the two of you, on top of the duvet. It's the best sleep he's had in a very long time.

The next time it happens, he's surprised that you're both already so willing to include him in the routine. Saying goodbye to everyone else at the event, you simply give him a tired smile, and Oliver actually speaks to him directly, rather than through you the way he had been for the past hour, to pointedly wish him good night.

Five minutes later, Felix lets himself into Oliver's room, and finds the two of you, already down to your underwear, sitting cross-legged on the bed as you are gently removing Oliver's concealer and eyeliner with a makeup wipe. You've forgone earphones entirely and there's the tinny sound of some pop-punk band this time. You smile at Felix broadly, giving a little wave.

"I quite like this," Oliver says to you, though loud enough for Felix to hear. You nod in agreement. He has the distinct impression that you're both talking about him joining these moments of yours.

Sometimes things change, like your or Oliver will be sitting up with a cigarette or a book, and have the other's head in your lap, or one of you will be on the floor by the bed, and Felix learns not to worry, that you needed to simply not be touched in that moment. Sometimes that lasts all night, and Felix worries about either of you sleeping on the floor, but you both assure him it's normal.

Felix learns that Oliver likes playing with Felix's hair just as much as he liked getting his hair played with. He learns to identify whose taste in music is whose each time judging by the album chosen. He also learns how clingy you get, and how responsive you are to soothing touches; those are his favourite nights, with Oliver comfortable and content by his side, looking up at the ceiling and enjoying the music, while you're pressed up against Felix's side, head on his chest to listen to the heartbeat he keeps much steadier than he'd been able to that first night. His arm is around you and you have your own slung over him, legs tangled up with his, all but melting into him as he runs his fingers up and down your spine in a soothing, repetitive rhythm. You're practically purring.

These nights are quiet, he doesn't remember the last time any of the three of you spoke after Oliver's quiet aside on that second night. He gets used to the serenity, the lack of expectations, and comes to understand and appreciate just how badly you both need these moments. He doesn't think he needs them in quite the same way, but his head starts to spin when he realises that you both have started needing him there in these moments.

[tojikai]

Okay but I am the only one who didn’t fw naomi even before she pulled that bs

I don’t know how to explain it but i really dislike like how she came off when it comes to y/n and yui

Like seriously……

I hate her “shy” “kind” demeanor that she’s puts on like…

what did she think of y/n and some of the stuff she (naomi) was doing because she did so much wild shit: basically trying to replace y/n place and be yui mother plus how distasteful her and satoru would act👎👎

Also her and satoru were so wild even before they got together idk i would lose my shit if i found out the man that promised to work on us, was using this one girl for comfort and telling her our problems while falling for her?!?!! Nah i’d cash out

Naomi was kinda of wrong too especially since she was “falling for him” like this man and this women have stuff going on plus a whole child and ur just inserting urself!!!

It feels like she kinda of used it as an opportunity

Maybe im just a hater but did gojo’s mother plan for them to get together? And how did they even start getting close again? Plus how did satoru start using her as a damn therapist 😭😭 did bro just say “oh, me and yui’s mother has just been….” Or what

I would’ve also lost my minddd to find out that this lady has been hanging around my child without me knowing

Makes me wonder if the roles were reversed, what would satoru do? Would he find a problem with how a man who has romantic intentions with y/n and cuddles with her or wtv while yui is there, has been hanging around especially with his kid in the picture ?🧐

Yeah im definitely just a hater 😅

NAOMI? now let me say im the biGGEST HATER I HATE THE WAY THAT YOU WALK THE WAY THAT YOU TALK I HATE THE WAY THAT YOU DRESS— LMAO srsly tho i didn't fuck w her since the beginning too esp. with the fact that she chose to get w satoru despite knowing everything😠 LMAO i literally wrote her but yeah, i hate her for that. she's NOT a girl's girl. if i was yn's friend, it's ON SIGHT!!!!!

i feel like if yui finds out about her when she grows up, she'll think of her as someone who tried to take her father away from her when he's already not w them, instead of someone who tried to help her father when he's having problems w her mom. even if she didn't do anything to her directly, i feel like yui would hate her for getting in between her parents when they're already apart.

gojo's mother didn't plan on getting the two of them together. she just wanted anyone but yn for satoru. naomi was the closest available one that time. naomi and satoru sort of like developed a close relationship bc naomi and yn used to be HS classmates, she knows yn. it wasn't hard for satoru to introduce the topic and open up bc of that.

and if the roles were reversed, i think it already happened w toji and lets just say satoru lost his mind over that😭

[wordy-little-witch]

Hiiiii and also KDKSJXJSJXJSKZKX- baby post was something i never knew i needed dosjdjsx pls i need more headcanons abt bby Bronwyn D. Crown

Im laughing cuz buggy litrally just cloned himself cuz i was wondering whose paternal genes will the bby take after but then its a mini fem buggy lmao

Also the cross guilds reaction to the baby is so cute esp daz aaaaa ofcours the man who used to dream being a superhero is soft inside

And both croc n mihawk fainting dksjdisod

Plsss i need to know wat theyre and crossguild is like when taking care of the baby djsjjsdjsj pls let her be super smart like her dads aaaa

The domesticity is ❤️

So honestly while Winni le DOES definitely take after Buggy the most, she's not quite a CLONE per se. Her hair is a dark, almost black, blue, and her nose is a little less RED red and more pink-red. Everything else though? Carbon copy from birth.

As far as genes go, they never really push for the testing bc it's redundant, though Croc is almost positive it's Mihawk - while he did fully head to toe transition via Iva, the likelihood of it being him is really really infintisimally slim. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter, really. Winnie is their baby and they all love her to pieces.

Daz absolutely is her biggest fan, barring her parents and in a literal sense. He's wrapped around her little finger and as she grows, she KNOWS it. He'll play with her, and if anyone laughs or makes a remark, he can and will stare into their soul while unflinchingly stating he is simply doing his duties to the highest degree - what are they doing with this doubtless free time? He has some recommendations-

Tbf though the number of people who would laugh about it leave fairly quickly, leaving a veritable LEGION of men, women and others who are ready to ride or die for this kid.

You know those tiktok videos of animals meeting the new baby for the first time? That with Ritchie. That would be so cute. So silly. Just. Ritchie being a big baby and just all worship eyes at this new baby because '!!!!! Small human!!!!! Like cap!!!!!! Weird smell!!!!!!! Must lick!!!!!!!'.

He keeps sneaking into her nursery to lay beside the crib or just snuffle her in her sleep. They wind up setting traps. He keeps evading them. Nobody can figure out how. Mihawk proposes that he's simply so No Thoughts Head Empty that he evades the traps on pure luck and ditzy fortune.

Alvida is definitely searching high and low for "my awesome aunt got me this-" type of things, then getting matching outfits, baby sunglasses, etc, just READY for dress up and lil self care. She's also the type to carry on full conversations with Winnie as a baby without baby talk. Just meeting babbles with "girl, he said WHAT? No, hold up, tell auntie everything-" or "baby girl, you will not believe what tea I got today-"

Cabaji dreams of teaching her to ride her first unicycle. Will settle for rollerblades. Very protective, but also liable to lose the baby somehow in a market and then explode.

Mohji shares his love for animals with her and is so smug when Winnie grows up and continues on with a constant love and adoration for animals.

Galdino gets her into art, and she continues on with that, even on well into her adult years.

As for intelligence, she definitely winds up as smart as her parents - she goes on to study zoology and animal psychology, becoming a veterinarian and then later revamping the entirety of the veterinary science field in the Grandline, then later in some of the other Seas.

She also works with her parents' business as well tbf, though she focuses more on the vigilante side of it - popping amoral smugglers, sinking slavers, the works. She also may or may not have planted a few bombs in some marine bases when she went to do the animal checks for the base, depending on their history, regard, and the state of their animals. She's got her own moral compass, one which she follows like her own northern star.

All in all, there's a lot of domestic silliness that Winnie brings about.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

I’m sorry but I’m just a really huge Yves stan. Like listen, Yves would freak me out so bad that I would probably be sweating profusely every time he is within a 6 feet radius, but like as someone who went through parentification and was essentially a glass child with unmet needs when I was younger , the motherly vibes that Yves exudes,,, I’m sorry but I would be hooked, addicted even. Hell I might become the yandere too who knows LMAO.

Like Monty would be cool because I wouldn’t be as intimidated by him, well aside from his sheer size but he’s just a bit sleezy to me I dunno but Yves has this sort of lithe, vampiric, serpent like essence to him that would make me nervous but excited. Hell having someone pour into me in THAT fashion would have me excited.

Also and like correct me if I’m wrong (this is my interpretation) but I feel like Monty is the type of guy that would’ve folded for any person that gave him attention during that time. Like reader was just caught up at the right (wrong) time and now has him following them everywhere, when this literally could’ve been someone else (I think this was already addressed in the story, either this one or the first Monty story I can’t remember) but like YVES, I feel like he has a specific reason why he chose the reader, we would never know but there’s probably something really unique about his darling that makes him so enamored, maybe it a combination of things, who knows. But I feel like his love is more unique and special, to me.

I dunno man I just want someone to check up on me like Yves, I’m down bad.

tw: implication of suicide

YES I BE FUKIN DOWN BAD 4 YVES TOO CAUS HE IS SO MOTHERLY

okay so like the reason why Yves is so into you has been a hot topic on this account, originally i planned to be like some sort of reincarnation shit but that wouldn't hold much water and it would be a little too creepy to imply that he was watching even before ur birth, kinda like preordering a partner and that's already grooming

so i left it vague and up for interpretation and just said he's the allegory of a perfect parent (one link within the link) like i promise i do not condone grooming n incest shit but like, something about having someone knows you deeply and wholly like a fucking parent is really hot, not hot in the "i want to fuck my mom and dad" kinda way, but more like "OH GOD PLEASE I FUCKING WISH YVES IS REAL I WANT TO BE TAKEN CARE OF SO BAD AND I WANT SOMEONE TO SEE IM SUFFERING AND TAKWE IT AWAY FROM MEEEEE PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE PLEAASSSEEEEEEE"

these themes literally show up in almost all my works esp Yandere older brother, Yandere best friend and heavily in my Language Barrier series

Whereas for monty, that was my attempt of like trying something new, stuff that I' don't necessarily fancy but it's a nice change of pace, the exact opposite of Yves; the stereotype of the man of the house: dirty, manchild (cant cook), fixes shit his own, doesn't even own a house to handle its affairs, uses dishsoap to wash himself, sex fiend, financially irresponsible, inattentive but trying his best beer is my best friend

Whereas Yves is a stereotype of the woman, cooks, clean, has a 20 step skincare routine, takes care of his looks, hygiene, dress up well, proper etiquette, makeup, handles the finance, saving himself after marriage, more research than the FBI, loves fashion, fitness, live laugh love

and like i get it im not surprised , there will be those who prefer monty over Yves and Yves over monty. just like there's this anon who said something along the lines of Monty are for those who want to fix him, while Yves is for those who wants to BE fixed.

i did have a lot of anons disliking both sides of the yin n yang which was expected n shit

and yes ur right, Monty would have fallen for anyone who saved him not necessarily you, you just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time- but his saving grace is that once he latched on , he's never letting go there is no one that could replace you. Mans is going to off himself if you're gone

in conclusion, im also downbad for yves

sauryy montyy

[cyeayt]

whats ur tim headcanons :)

oooh i have so many i can sort them into appearance, character arc, and sillies, a lot of these are lifted from fics i like fyi,,, ty so much for the ask, this is very rambly lol

i tend to think of Tim as Malay mostly because of Head in the Lion's Mouth and renwhit's other works with the stoker bros which rewrote my brain although in my mind he has short hair instead of long like he has in those series. i also have fallen to the fanon of him wearing colorful button ups but i don't really like him in aloha shirts just cause i think he has better taste than that, i also think he has his ears pierced and i am not immune to the idea that he wears a shark tooth necklace he got from Danny. I do also think that he had his hair shorter and dyed purple on the ends in season 1 that he then stopped taking care of in season 2 so it was washed out green and all messy by season 3, by which time i also think his fashion had deteriorated and to me he was at the unknowing in the rattiest hoodie imaginable and jeans he had been wearing for at least 4 days. he can have a graphic tee as a treat but he was def greasy.

in terms of his character i have a lot of stuff that i think are headcanons that are actually just canon (like that he knew something was up with sasha before not-sasha was revealed or that he felt comfortable in research before getting drawn back into the horror) because i have a really shitty memory but heres some stuff im pretty sure isn't plain stated in the text: he and Jon bonded in research and were very close before Jon became the archivist, and part of how they bonded was that they were both overworking themselves looking for their answers and also they're really good at breaking into places together. i am also a sucker for the idea that jon and him were involved or dancing around something but had to break it off when jon got promoted. speaking of hcs with high angst potential, i also think a lot about subtle rituals of intimacy between him and sasha and the small ways in which he would have noticed that there was something off with her. i also see him as being estranged from his parents/ them suspecting him of having something to do with Danny's death, which is not helped by the box of photos n such i think he keeps hidden in his closet/under his bed. in terms of his mentality Tim is really relatable to me i think he really struggles to be trusted in meaningful ways and that Jon suspecting him of murdering Gertrude brought back a lot of bad memories of police and his parents thinking he killed Danny. he gets stuck into patterns of though and mindsets esp when hes depressed and has trouble thinking of things in different terms in s3. also he did nothing wrong but thats neither here nor there

sillies! hcs that have little support but i think are funny, shipping stuff, and like whatever.

It's not really supported by canon unless you think he was playing 4d chess with Basira in s2 but in my mind Daisy and Basira were the ones investigating Danny's disappearance and they have a bad history. i like to put this one in my aus/ give him and daisy and basira a weird antagonistic relationship whenever i can because i think its funny when people are bitter with each other.

while i do agree that Tim would enjoy outdoorsy stuff like rockclimbing or kayaking, i don't think he's that good at it. i def see him as like the nerdier brother and think that he got into stuff that he and Danny did together, but it would be like Danny trying to convince him to go on the black diamond while Tim zigzags his way down a blue square. idk what the rock climbing equivalent of that is but i do know that tim cannot do bouldering.

i also see tim as being aro-spec like demi-romantic bisexual or somewhere in there idk im aflux aroflux its all soup to me but he and sasha are queerplatonic to me. also don't @ me i think he at the very least flirted with elias a few times either pre-archives for funzies or at some point in s2-3 when he stopped giving a shit.

hcs are so fun bc they're like little outfits you can put your character in like not every fic i write will have all of these and some of my more minute ones contradic each other but they're like ships to me anywayyy

[lacunasbalustrade]

what are your general thoughts on queer(gay n trans n all) people? like you dont seem to be against gay ppl from what i can see but i also see that you've like never really openly said something pro or against trans ppl. sorry if its out of the blue im just curious esp seeing your pov as a religious person who has trans mutuals/follows n all bcuz i (unfortunately) know plenty of christians that know trans people but only tolerate them instead of accepting them (which usually means they misgender/deadname them)

hi! I'm happy to answer your question - it's a bit controversial, though, and a sensitive topic for everyone, so I do ask for your understanding if anything I say happens to offend you.

as a Christian, I believe in the stance the Bible puts forth: that BEING gay is not a life choice, it's an inclination that came forth due to the presence of sin in the world. the continuation, however, of this choice, is a sin.

To quote so no one thinks I'm speaking out of some random, bibically incorrect bigotry, Romans 1: 24 NIV "Therefore God gave them over in the sinful desires of their hearts to sexual impurity for the degrading of their bodies with one another." ,Romans 1: 26 "Because of this, God gave them over to shameful lusts. Even their women exchanged natural sexual relations for unnatural ones." , Romans 1: 27 "In the same way the men also abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another. Men committed shameful acts with other men, and received in themselves the due penalty for their error."

obviously my faith and beliefs should not be forced on unbelievers. I am not any holier than anyone else because I am straight. I am every bit as sinful because it's impossible to avoid committing sin.

so if I'm going to sum it up, it's best said as: none of my business because Who Am I to tell you how to live, right? you're my friends and 'preaching' isn't actually loving. the best form of loving others as a Christian is to accept them as a person before judging based on whatever life choices they've made or pronouns they call themselves. which brings me into the next part!

theologically, I have to admit I'M NOT VERY SURE about trans people. I genuinely cannot find many sources of literature on the topic. There are intersex people, there are people with gender dysphoria. The Bible doesn't talk much about those, enough to give any real objections anyway. To talk about my beliefs based off the context, if God made you as you are, you shouldn't be trying to change you...is the logic, but again, no reason to force biblical beliefs on unbelievers.

I do disapprove of the extent to which some trans people have taken this schtick. I've seen posts saying 'oh if kids can play soccer and do ballet which messes them up for life, they can also do trans surgeries!' I'm sorry. That just doesn't make sense. WHY would anyone want kids to have permission to do Very Risky Things when they are small enough to not know better or make informed choices? And I also know many posts say that 'common sense', kids aren't gonna do those things till they're old enough to feel like they need to do them....those posters need to remember the last time they regretted doing something as a child. Common sense can't be relied upon in my experience.

Plus, given the kidnapping laws in the U.S which basically allow children to be taken away from their parents if their parents disapprove...lol yeah now make a law where my child can be taken away from me if I'm not in the same fandom as them. It can be hurtful to receive dissent on your life choices, but that don't mean up and leaving is the solution, unless the living situation is physically dangerous in some way or you are an actual adult. Children are not trustworthy indicators of whether or not a parent is problematic. And I'm saying this having had problematic parents myself - sometimes we are part of the problem. And if it's difficult, you should still try not to give up on them.

This might be the most important part: I'm wondering whether the gender stereotypes placed on girls and boys are the markers trans people want to overcome. Because from what I've researched, there are two different camps. 1: people who admit that they are biologically whatever sex they were born, and just enjoy dressing like and passing for the other sex because it makes them more comfortable. 2: people who actually believe they are the other sex because they feel that way and they are only effectively realizing that change to their 'authentic' self by transitioning.

I don't believe in gender stereotyping. Like, girls wear skirts boys wear pants. Boys can't wear pink etc etc. So the concept of a trans woman thinking they are a woman because they enjoy the markers attached to being a woman, like, for example, having long hair and wearing skirts, makes me really uncomfortable. Because that's not the whole experience of being a woman. It's only a small part of it, and it's not universal at all. And while no one can claim that ALL woman have experienced a certain set of conditions that make them woman...the only standard for BEING a woman, in my book, is to be a biological one, because it's the only defining trait. When people think of girls, I don't want them to automatically think of girls with skirts and wearing pink. I want them to acknowledge that all girls are different, and the only thing that makes them girls is the gender marker, not their conformance to 'gender norms' that have arisen from societal conditioning.

The idea that someone's feelings can be 'authentically accurate' makes me feel even more....nah. Feelings are valid but if I trusted mine all the time, I'd definitely be all over the place.

To sum it up: no problems with the trans behavior because I'm not into forcing biblical perspectives on y'all. But I definitely have a problem with the idealogy and the legislature.

dead name, misgendering wise...I believe people should be called whatever they want to be called unless it makes the other person uncomfortable. In which case the other person should just stop interacting with them since they're so uncomfortable. (E.g you want me to call you Baby Chicken. For some reason I have a problem with it. Maybe I have a strong fear of chickens.)

Basically I respect your life choices. Thank you for coming to my Ted talk haha.

[nightfallsystem]

maybe i should get a cane bc i kind of almost keep falling and losing my balance and cuz my pain on some days can vary from low to medium level (even high level for a bit) and i kind of do feel like it could help

still worried abt faking it for attention but if im being honest with myself ive been in pain for a bit and even when im not posting abt it im still in pain so that rlly doesnt sound like faking. plus, like, you cant rlly fake being in pain...

any advice ?? i just tend to lose a bit of balance but only sometimes but my legs get rlly painful n weak usually at least once per day or two for a few hours . its a bit hard to explain i guess but clinging onto stuff like my wall and handles has helped so maybe if i have smth to help thatd help

im just still worried. esp abt my parents questioning it but im hoping i can pass it off as me just cosplaying a character who uses a cane?? im also worried abt them saying mean comments abt it :/

i mean. if it helps me it helps me. so, it wouldnt be bad to use it if i feel like it could help me?? and if it ends up not helping me i could just see if theres smth else. i mean. theres no harm in seeing if it could help??