#except for like. people that treat you poorly

[mickyschumacher]

[I THINK HE KNOWS!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: a fake and curated date in italy on valentine's day is no one's idea of fun except a publicist’s. but all it does it take a walk around monza to know the difference between what's real and what's fake.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: fluff, poor humour, fake dating trope, reader is a graduate uni student, lando being a dream boyfriend, kinda suggestive at the end, mentions of horrible fans and privacy invaded, me knowing nothing about italy let alone lombardy at the end as well.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lando norris x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3.3k

𝐀/𝐍: third fic of my series! i really loved writing this one! fake dating is always such a hit or miss to write about but in this case, it was a lot easier. hope you enjoyed it!♡︎ // as usual, poorly proofread

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Life���s a funny thing really. Full of mistakes leaving you wondering how you ever got there.  

And as you sat on a bench, looking over at the view of Lake Como in Lombardy, Italy, with ‘hidden’ paparazzi down the street, you began wondering the exact same thing.  

“How long do you think they’ll be here?” You queried, turning your body to face Lando.  

Lando tilted his head, resting his cheek in his hand as he leaned on the top of the bench. His blue eyes briefly raked over you and then where the paparazzi hid. He looked over at his watch. “Give or take twenty minutes. They’ll probably be hungry for actual food soon.”  

You withheld your sigh. How did you get here? Time sure had flown as seven months ago you were just a graduating university student with loan after loan on her shoulders. The very student who still decided to have a sweet treat after handing in her assignment and headed to your favourite cafe. The very student who bumped into Lando Norris and had her bracelet snag on the sleeve of his jacket, landing you in a compromising position as you tried to take it out.  

The very student who woke up the next day with her entire privacy invaded as ‘fans’ hunted you online and seemingly decided not only were you Lando’s girlfriend but the ‘perfect match’. 

That was you.  

Mere hours later, you had Lando’s publicist and underlings knocking at your door with a comprehensive contract and a promise to pay your student loans and pay you. You didn’t think it would last this long. Three months tops... surely. 

So, you signed it. A contract declaring that you were fake dating Lando Norris.  

They said it would help Lando’s image. And help it did. Lando had never looked better to his sponsors. Apparently dating a university graduate makes you look more polished and mature, enough to at least secure a dozen contracts. Most fans seemed to love you. Even the driver’s had taken a liking to you.  

But to you, Lando, and a handful of selectively picked people, this was all fake.  

Every decision was carefully made. The matching jewellery, what he said, what you posted, where you met, the hugs, the arms around the waist, the staring, the kisses... 

And six months later, here you were. On a curated date with the Lando Norris at Lake Como on Valentine’s Day – the third day of your trip. You had both compromised, agreeing to each make a list of things so do in Lombardy, two of which had to be a couple’s activity for the sake of it.  

You had completed most of both of your lists. A visit to Teatro Alla Scala, an opera theatre (your idea, obviously). A guided tour Villa Del Balbianello because Lando needed to see some more real-life scenes of Star Wars (mostly ended up taking photos of you the entire time). An agreed night out from the both of you to Navigli to consume ‘local food.’  

Lando, who desperately wanted to have walk around Lake Como, was sorely disappointed when he spotted the paparazzi hiding around the corner. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, watching your fingers trail the cracks in the wooden bench.  

“It’s okay,” you assured. “It’ll be over soon anyways.” 

Lando knew you were talking about the paparazzi. But he couldn’t help but think about your relationship with him.  

That day at the cafe... the only reason people thought you two were in a relationship wasn’t just because you were barely a centimetre apart trying to remove your bracelet but in all the photos people had captured, Lando was staring at you like it was love at first sight.  

And before he knew it, everything had gone down. The fans, his publicist, the media... it was a shitshow. And then you showed up two days later having signed a contract to be his fake girlfriend.  

Lando hated it. Fuck, he hated it so much. He hated that he dragged you into this. He hated that every moment with you was planned. And he especially hated that he couldn’t like you openly. Not with you thinking it was fake.  

Lando looked down back at his watch. He sighed, leg beginning to shake out of impatience. 

You raised a brow. Naturally, you put a hand on his arm. “Lando... is everything okay?” 

Lando flickered his eyes to your hand and back to your face. He moved his arm from your grasp, grabbing your hand instead. “Come on. We’re leaving,” he stated.  

Your eyes widened as he stood up, bringing you up with him. “W-What? Lan–we’re supposed to leave in thirty minutes,” you murmured quietly, leaving only him to hear your voice.  

“I don’t care,” he started, increasing his walking pace. “Whatever you do... just hold on to me, okay?” 

You furrowed your brows. “Lando, what are-” 

Abruptly Lando paused in his steps. He turned to you, blue eyes staring hard back at you. “Do you trust me?” 

“I–” 

“Do you trust me? Yes, or no?” He repeated softly. 

You gulped nervously, unable to look away from him. “Yes.” 

A look of relief washed over his face as he nodded. “Good. Then hold on. And don’t let go.” 

“Lando, I still don’t get what you–MEAN!” You yelped as Lando began running in no particular direction. You tightened your grasp on his hand while your legs struggled to catch up to him. The problems of having an athlete boyfriend.  

The wind felt serene. The sun was oddly warm despite it being the winter season. It was as though spring was trying to come a little early. All the early architecture you had seen on the way here was beginning to blur into one uniform colour. You weren’t sure where you were going or why but all you knew was that you were going way too fast.  

“Lando! I swear to God, if you get us killed–” 

“You said you trusted me,” Lando yelled back, cautiously looking over his shoulder. He could see the paparazzi struggling to follow the both of you.  

You panted, pushing your legs to keep up. “I do! Breaking into a sprint all of a sudden with no idea in mind, however, begs a slightly different answer.” 

Lando couldn’t help but laugh over the air and God, did you love it. You had heard of people saying that a laugh could so like music to one’s ears. You never understood it. It was a laugh. A reaction. How could it be musical? But in that moment, you understood. It wasn’t just the laugh. It required the context, the smile, the thought... and only then did it become an orchestrated musical masterpiece.  

Another yelp left your mouth as Lando pulled you to the side, situating yourselves in an empty shaded alleyway. You rested your back as comfortably as you could against the stone while Lando stood in front of you, hand still wrapped around yours.  

You both waited quietly. Turning your head slightly, you could see a small flock of black clothed paparazzi walk by, all ushering and yelling, mystified to how you both had disappeared.  

“Okay,” you swallowed hard, turning back to Lando. “I think they’re...” You seem to have lost your ability to speak as you found Lando staring at you. It had been a common occurrence within the past few months and it never got any easier. “They’re gone,” you confirmed, chest heaving.  

“You should probably start joining me on my workouts,” he mumbled, eyes flickering over you again, absorbing the sight of the thin sheet of sweat across your skin.  

You narrowed your eyes, moving your hand from his grasp to hit him with the side of your bag. A groan fell from his lips. “Ow!” He yelled, making you clasp a hand over his mouth. Your head darted to the side, checking whether anyone heard him.  

“What was that for?” He queried after you removed your hand from his mouth.  

“For being an asshole. And for making me run. Which reminds me... why did you make us run?” You queried with a more than unhappy tone.  

Lando grinned. “We still have one thing on your list to do.” 

You furrowed your brows. “I didn’t add anything else.” 

Lando’s hand rummaged through the pocket of his shorts, taking out a familiar piece of paper – the very one you had written all your activities on. And right at the bottom was an activity you thought you tore off.  

Your eyes widened, hand darting out to grab the piece of paper but Lando was too quick. “Nuh-uh,” he tutted, holding the paper close to him. “I’m getting this framed.” 

You skin burned at his words. You clearly remembered what you wrote.  

Walk the Monza track with Lando (and preferably some gelato). 

“I was supposed to take that off,” you mumbled.  

Lando frowned. “You don’t want to do it? Or did you not want to do it with me?” 

You blinked blankly at Lando. “Are you stupid? Did you read the same thing I did? Obviously with you. I just... we’ll probably get mobbed so it’s a stupid idea.” 

Lando understood what you meant. Visiting in Italy for two days now had proven to be incredibly difficult with a fan asking for a photo every other minute. He was appreciative that you were so understanding but he felt awful. 

“Yeah... I mean it would be crazy if you had a boyfriend who could rent out the entire track for a couple of hours,” Lando yawned, stretching his arms nonchalantly.  

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see your mouth fall open. “Lando... you didn’t.” 

Lando rolled his eyes, grabbing your hand once again. “I did. Now come on. We’re going to be late!”  

━━━━━━━━━━━ 

You blinked blankly once you arrived to the empty Monza track. You had preoccupied yourself in the car ride here, pointing out all the interesting things you were seeing as Lando drove to the track. You were going to fall asleep if you hadn’t arrived there any earlier. But now that you were... you didn’t think your eyes could get any wider.  

“Is that a...” You turned to Lando with twinkling eyes.  

“Just go pick your flavour,” he narrowed his eyes.  

A squeal fell from your lips and before you knew it, you were hugging Lando tightly. You could feel his arms wrap around your waist, happily accepting your hug. “Thank you,” you murmured next to his ear.  

Lando smiled calmly despite his heart beat pounding in his ears. He was sure he could stay like this forever if he could. “You’re welcome. I... It’s so much less than what you deserve, but it’s all I could think to do given the... circumstances.”  

You stared at the pavement of the track heavily, Lando’s words swirling around your head. Right... the circumstances. You cleared your throat, pulling away from him even though you could’ve sworn you felt him tighten his grasp momentarily.  

“Come on. Pick your flavour or I’m just going to get you all chocolate,” you called out, waking over to the gelato cart he had hired. 

Lando sighed, briefly making a disgusted expression. He followed after you with a small smile. Despite the wind, he could still smell you on him.  

You greeted the cart owner, excitedly eyeing all the gelato flavours. There were so many to choose from... how were you ever going to pick? “Can I get...” 

“She’ll get mango, chocolate, raspberry, and lemon in a cup,” Lando finished, hovering behind you.  

You gaped, snapping your head to Lando. “How did you know?” 

“Better question is,” Lando started, resting his mouth right above your shoulder and near your ear, “why wouldn’t I?” 

You shivered at his words, cheeks burning at the small grin playing on his lips. “I’m not sharing any of mine,” you muttered, moving your eyes to the gelato.  

Lando pouted teasingly. “Please,” he sung, tilting his head so you could see him blink his eyes rapidly. 

You gulped, taking a step away before you succumbed to his wishes. “I think I’m going to throw up.” 

Lando gasped. “So rude!” 

You chuckled taking the cup of gelato while thanking the owner. Lando narrowed his eyes at you, ordering his own combination of pistachio, melon, and orange.  

You made a face at his cup as he walked towards you. “There is something so wrong with you.” 

Lando rolled his eyes, nudging you forwards to the entrance of the track. “Just be quiet and walk.” 

━━━━━━━━━━━ 

You and Lando walked comfortably at your own pace around the track, eating your gelato while he explained parts of the track or its history.  

“I’m not gonna lie,” you started, finishing your spoonful of raspberry, “Curva Parabolica makes me feel sick. Every time it came on the TV, I thought I was going to throw up.” 

Lando raised a brow, resting his spoon in his cup. “I thought you didn’t watch them?” 

It was always Lando’s assumption you didn’t watch the races. Even when you came to them, if there was a camera, you’d flash a smile, otherwise there was no other reason to be there. You were at the podiums because you had to be, not because you wanted to be. 

You snorted, looking at him incredulously. “Of course, I watch them. Why wouldn’t I? You’re freaking racing! I’m always so proud of you, no matter where or how you finish. You don’t see me next your mum and dad, cheering you on at the end of the race?” 

Of course he did. You were the first person he would look for at a race. And if you weren’t there, he’d look at the camera in hopes you were watching. And all this time... you had been.  

Lando’s mouth dried. “I just thought...” 

You looked at his face and you could read his mind. “You thought it was fake.” 

He blinked, regret washing over his face. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it,” he apologised.  

You took a spoonful of your mango gelato and eyeing his mournful expression. “It’s okay. If there’s one thing you should know, my proudness and happiness for you isn’t fake. Even if this whole thing is.” 

And there it was again. The bitter reminder that this entire relationship was fake. That perhaps the only real thing in your relationship was how you met.  

But this was real. 

This – the track, the gelato, the conversation – this was real.  

Lando sucked in a sharp breath, moving his eyes to the rest of the track as he ate large soon of his melon gelato. He exhaled slowly, trying to remember where he was once again. “Okay... pop quiz! Who was Variante Ascari named after?” 

You cleared your throat, pulling on a thoughtful expression. “Um Al.. Alberto Ascari? The Italian driver, right?” 

“Thank God someone’s been paying attention,” he joked as you neared the named turn.  

You rolled your eyes. “I should thank Fewtrell for that one. Remember that stream he made us join?” 

“Yeah,” Lando laughed softly, all the memories hitting him at once. It was really sweet of Max actually. It was a time when some ‘fans’ were being particularly awful to you. Saying you were using Lando for fame because you barely knew anything about the sport.  

Max then created a poorly made quiz about Formula 1 and got you and Lando to join. Max and Lando pretended not to know much so you were all in the same boat. And any time the right answer was mention, Lando would occasionally squeeze your leg to give you a clue. The stream was flooded with some of the kindest comments, telling you to ignore everyone else and just focus on your health and your relationship with Lando.  

It was one of the moments where you realised how good of a friend Max was. Lando was lucky to have someone who cared for him that much.  

Lando looked down at his cup and let out a dramatic sigh. 

You didn’t even need to bat an eye towards. “I told you I'm not sharing,” you reminded, quickening your pace.  

It didn’t take long for him to catch up. “Please, please. I can see you have like two spoons of mango and lemon. Come on. Sharing is caring.” 

“No–Lando! Stop following me!”  

All of a sudden, you and Lando were running again. But this time, you weren’t worried about some paparazzi or the destination. It was just you and Lando.  

“No offense, but you are not outrunning me,” Lando called out from behind you, running with what you were pretty sure was a smug grin. 

You huffed, trying to push your legs further but you could feel him hovering. You came to an abrupt halt. “You’re right. I can’t outrun you,” you smiled, turning to him. “But I can out-eat you.” 

Lando’s grin dropped as you combined the two flavours of gelato and plopped them in your mouth. He stood there, dumbfounded while you happily ate the rest.  

You replicated his smug grin from earlier and poked your tongue out. “All finished. Sorry,” you shrugged with no sound of an apology hidden in your voice.  

Lando swallowed hard, eyes fixated on your mouth. A step closer to you, his body was pressed on yours. His hand travelled up your neck, the other hand resting on your waist to pull you closer.  

You inhaled slowly, hairs on your body standing straight. You tried meeting his eyes but all you could see was him focus on your lips. Instinctively, your hand fell to his arm around your waist, fastening yourself to him.  

“I... I think I can still taste it,” he said, voice hoarse and dry. He wasn’t sure if he could even recognise himself. 

“Lando... I–we're not on the clock,” you whispered, unwilling to untangle yourself from his grasp.  

“I don’t care.” 

In the blink of an eye, Lando’s lips were smashed against yours and fuck, his lips were soft and pillowy as usual. Your stomach churned upon feeling Lando pushing you closer to him, if that were possible. His fingers were cold against your skin, creeping under the hem of your shirt to rub tingling circles onto your skin.  

A breathy gasp fell from your lips while goosebumps littered your skin. Lando took advantage of this, groaning against your lips as he darted his tongue to explore your mouth. He could feel himself press into you, rubbing his hard-on against you.  

You think now would be an appropriate time to self-implode. You had all the signs. Burning skin, dizziness, and the lost ability to breathe. 

Lando almost buckled under your touch as your fingers scoured his taut torso, lingering dangerously close to his v-line. 

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, pulling away to rest his forehead on yours. His hands had found themselves holding yours, preventing you from undoing him any further. His chest heaved, rising up and down while he stared at your swollen lips and moved his eyes to meet yours.  

“I want this to be real,” he pleaded, moving your hand to his face. “Please.” 

“Lando,” you started but he didn’t want to hear it.  

He shook his head. “I think I’m falling in love with you. I think I have been since we first met,” he sighed out, collecting himself. “I don’t want to do this when it’s fake. I want to be with you because what I feel is real. Because you drive me crazy and I can’t imagine a future without you.” 

You blinked, feeling his hand trail over yours as you caressed his face. Your heart raced loudly in your ears. How were you supposed to respond to that? “I...” 

“Please say something. Anything,” he begged, blue eyes heavily staring down at you. 

“As long as you promise to walk with me on every track. Oh, and get me gelato.” 

Lando let out the biggest sigh of relief, almost collapsing against your hand. His head dipped down, pressing his lips against you once again, taking you into a long kiss. He sighed, pulling away.  

His arms fell around your waist as he grinned at you. “I promise.” 

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑 

[uwuyangeppie]

hi this isn't really a request, i'd just like to dump some thoughts about yan!geppie :] !

thinking about what if he met his darling when they were kids. gepard was a shy and gentle kid, i bet he would be drawn to someone more tough than him or someone who could make him come out of his shell. admiration turns into a little crush (and serval of course teases him about it constantly), and it twists to something else the first time gepard sees them hurting. maybe they got into a fight, bit more than they could chew. they brushed it off as just an unserious skirmish between kids, but the sight of their bruises and scratches is engrained into little gepard's mind, and he hates it.

he couldn't wait to grow up and protect his loved ones. he doesn't forget the faces of those who inflicted injuries on his darling. someday, he'll be bigger and stronger, and he'll be able to keep them for himse protect them himself.

awww puppy love except the puppy will grow up to be a very aggressive and scary dog. so cute :3 also you know how kids will look at adults and be like “i can’t wait until i’m an adult! then i can do whatever i want!” and then they can’t because it’s adulthood? gepard is like that but he actually can do whatever he wants! just not in a good way lmfao

ALSO I THOUGHT I’D DELETED THIS AND FREAKED OUT HAHAHAHA

gepard landau has a crush on you.

from an outsider’s perspective, this was probably due to happen. you alway jump to protect others, and are made of tougher stuff than he. it happens all the time between adults, so it certainly wasn’t completely out of the question for him.

the warm smile you’re always giving him probably didn’t help either.

serval never fails to pick up on his nerves when he’s around you, and even greatly enjoys teasing him about when his words fail and he’s just stuttering through a sentence.

aww, geppie! it’s your crush! want me to go tell them you like them?!

no!

you suuuure? if i go over there, will you even be able to stop me?

serval!

i’m going, bye!

no!!

not that she ever has, yet, but he can’t risk taking that chance that she might just let it slip how much he adores you. he’s nowhere near as tough as you; you might think it’s funny or just cute, like in a younger sibling way! no way, he has to convince you that he’s not cute!

well, those were his feelings before the Incident.

it’s the first time he’s seen you lose. you sport bruises and dirt is smeared across your face, your clothes, and he swears he might be able to see it in your hair too. you brush it off, but judging by the way that the kids- the winners- opposite you are smirking, he can’t help but think it’s a bit more serious than you’re letting on.

one of the kids makes a joke at your expense.

and the feeling hits him like a truck.

it’s an emotion that a child has no business experiencing, and it’s only there for a moment, too overwhelming for his little body and brain to handle. still, he’ll remember it vividly many years in the future, the memory firmly imprinting itself into his mind. white-hot rage.

his father talks about the family lineage a lot. apparently, it’ll eventually be his job to serve the supreme guardian, as his ancestors have before him.

right now, gepard wants revenge, but if they beat you then they’ll definitely beat him. nonetheless, as his father says, he comes from a long line of strong men. that means that one day he’ll be a strong man, and he’ll ensure that nobody ever hurts you again.

[dreamsy990]

my thoughts on ddd basically boil down to "great game! kill the story with fire and sticks." which i think is about the coldest take ever. do not get me started on how nobodies having hearts is a dumbfuck plot twist i am so full of rage over that.

[zeb-z]

qBad this, qForever that, when did everyone forget about unreliable narrators?

[no-one-hears-me]

boutta ask my bro if he has any hot friends to send my way as a distraction

[marathedemonoverlord]

Yo say it louder for the people in the back. Like I will never get over how people trash talk or look down on Solomon when the Demons LITERALLY threatened to kill us in S1 HAD succeeded to and generally looked down on Humans before. Like Solomon had EVERY right to feel like another species with FAR more power than Humans have should be approached with caution or treated in a manner - A Demon is STILL a Demon regardless if it looks Cutesy or has cute mannerisms and Solomon is aware of that. Does it make his methods seem messed up maybe? But remember these are Demons

I think it's cause most people are drunk on Demon Cock but like we have to remember MC is an entirely UNIQUE case. If they were anyone else/Weren't the protagonist I GUARANTEE you they'd have been dead in a week and stayed that way. Dead used abused eaten killed anything; They would not have lived as long as they did if they weren't MC/descended from Lilith/had power.

Maybe Solomon is a bit world weary and callous but trust me if you didn't have MC privilege and lived as long as he did you'd probably be the same.

Maybe controversial but I think it's silly that when a demon in this game does something "problematic" (Honestly, this mostly apply to the brothers tbh, because this happens less with Barbatos, Diavolo and Mephisto) it's always excused with a "they are demons! You can't apply human standards to them!" But a human who has spent a large part of his life with them, who owes everything he currently is to a demon (Nightbringer/Barbatos) and has basically seen how demons interact with the world (and probably, His fellow sorcerers/witches, does anyone remember Helene or Is just me?) is criticized for his cynical way of seeing pacts with demons.

Like, most of these demons in S1 were refering to the MC as "just a human" and threatening to eat them/kill them (like, even Lucifer said to "not care about how humans breed" to the MC in their fucking Birthday lmao) and dimissing them in general and Solomon, a human who probably has heard all of this for like, centuries, Is the bad one for not seeing demons as his equals, when demons probably did the same until very recently

[sabertoothwalrus]

I'm going to think out loud about the dungeon meshi ages for a sec

I'm going to preface this by saying that this is based on my existing knowledge, and fact checking is difficult because there is A LOT of contentious research out there.

First of all, I think a lot of people come at this from a modern lens, forgetting the context that this is fantasy medieval era. this is fiction. on top of that, this is specifically Ryoko Kui's understanding of medieval era aging. plus fantasy. So before anyone comes at me with a bunch of 'ermmmm actualy's just consider that I don't really care and also it might not matter in this context lol

as far as the "age of maturity" assigned for each race, something I don't see many people talk about is that "teenagers" are a fairly recent concept. For a long time, you were either considered A Kid or Not A Kid. but this doesn't necessarily mean kids were more/less developed then, just our cultural expectations for certain age groups have changed.

Laios says the age of maturity for tallmen is 16. I don't think that means 16 year olds in the dungeon meshi universe are necessarily "more mature" than modern 16 year olds, but moreso that they have more responsibilities. However, things like medicine, smoking, drinking, sun exposure, physical activity, etc all affect age, so it's possible that developmentally they're closer to modern 18 year olds? Izutsumi is 17 (less than two weeks from turning 18, actually), and very much acts like a modern 17 year old.

The age of maturity for half-foots is 14. Chilchuck was 13 when he got married and had his first two children. Even though, at age 29, he's the equivalent of a modern 50 year old, I don't think he was That much more developed at 13 than a tallman. I think if half-foot 14 is equal to tallman 16, then Chilchuck was Pretty Damn Young for a parent LMAO. Even if you're generous and say tallman 16 is a modern 18, he still would've been younger than that.

The long-lived races are interesting. Marcille is obviously a unique case, and not a lot of this applies to her. We do know what Senshi was like as a minor (miner, lol), and he seemed like a modern 15ish, considering he was 36 and dwarf maturity is 40. I think it'd be really interesting to delve into how a culture functions with people being developmentally adolescent for soooooo long. Imagine middle school lasting 20 years. that would fucking suck. I suppose it makes sense why long-lived races are so patronizing.

Moving onto lifespans, I want to emphasize that they're average lifespans. Even in the manga, they say some half-foots live to 100, it's just rare. So it's less that a tallman 60 year old is "older" than a modern 60 year old, it's that it's easier to keep people alive for longer nowadays. Modern medicine is a BIG contributor. Dental health as well, considering how much your health is affected by your diet (and how much the action of chewing alone aids in digestion). Curious to know what the FUCK elven dentistry is like.

It also makes me wonder if half-foots would have a longer average lifespan if they weren't like, used for bait and treated so poorly, but half-foot 29 does seem to be middle-aged for half-foots. so who knows!

In that vein, I don't know if I can see Mithrun quite making it to 400 😬 like, his experience as a dungeon lord took a lot out of him quite literally, and he's doing exceptionally well despite it! I imagine he'd eventually start to develop a lot of heart problems if he doesn't have them already. Perhaps early-onset dementia. His memory seems still quite intact (he corrects Kabru on his story's accuracy) and he doesn't act like, lobotomized. He doesn't seem forgetful or confused, and he has a sense of humor/sarcasm still. It's mostly his task initiation that's been affected.

I almost want to say that mana affinity could affect long-lived races' lifespans, except dwarves have very poor tolerance for mana, so it's probably not that.

okay anyway I didn't really have a point to this post so I'm just gonna end my rambling here

[dollishmehrayan]

# BATBOYS WITH A AUSTRALIAN!READER ── .✦ ( how batboys deal with a Australian s/o )

a/n: I myself have a aussie accent so this is like so cool for someone to request so tysm (here) and anyways this is one where I don’t have to research for because I know a lott of Australian ppl and culture too, tags: (batboys x Australian!reader)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Loves Your accent: “Say something else! No, wait—say ‘mate’ again.” He’s absolutely smitten with how you talk and tries poorly to mimic your accent, often sounding more British than Australian.

Constantly Curious About Australia: He’ll bombard you with questions. “Are kangaroos really that common? Have you ever seen a cassowary? Do you guys actually barbecue everything?”

Terrible at Slang: If you say something like, “It’s looking a bit dodgy,” he’ll need you to explain what you mean. When he tries to use Australian slang, it’s endearing but cringe-worthy.

“What’s up, uh…sheila?”

“Dick. Never say that again.”

Adventure Buddy: He’s already planning a trip to Australia with you, wanting to see the Great Barrier Reef, Sydney Opera House, and every wildlife sanctuary possible.

JASON TODD ── .✦

Loves Your Humor: Your sarcastic and no-nonsense sense of humor is right up his alley. If you roast him, he’ll laugh and roast you back.

Protective Over Your Wildlife Stories: The second you casually mention seeing a venomous snake or massive spider, Jason is horrified.

“Why are you so casual about almost dying?!”

“It’s just a huntsman spider, Jason. Chill.”

Impressed by Your Toughness: He secretly loves how you’re unfazed by things that would make others panic. He brags about it to others: “My partner grew up surrounded by things that can kill you. I think they can handle Gotham.”

Tries Vegemite Once: Spoiler: he hates it. “Why does this taste like salty tar?” But he’ll eat it if it makes you happy (and won’t admit that he kinda likes it on toast with butter).

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Fascinated by Your Culture: Tim immediately researches everything he can about Australia, from Indigenous history to pop culture. “Did you know that there are more kangaroos than people in Australia?”

Amazed by Your Time Zone: He’s constantly confused by the time difference when you visit home. “Wait, it’s tomorrow for you?!”

Loves Learning Slang: You’ll catch him Googling Aussie slang to impress you. He’ll casually drop phrases like, “I’m knackered” or “Fair dinkum,” but his delivery is hilariously awkward.

Animal Discussions: He’s convinced that every Australian animal is deadly, and you have to constantly debunk his fears. “Not every spider is trying to kill me, Tim.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Quietly Intrigued: Damian pretends not to care much about your background, but you’ll catch him reading about Australia or asking subtle questions.

Loves Your Stories: He’s genuinely fascinated by your tales of outback adventures or the unique Australian wildlife. “You’ve seen a platypus in person? Fascinating.”

Tolerates Your Nicknames: If you call him something like “mate” or “love,” he’ll act annoyed but secretly enjoys it.

Protective Over the Wildlife: He’s horrified by the idea of culling kangaroos or other animals. “You allow such barbaric practices?” He might actually start a campaign to protect them.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Respectful and Curious: Bruce asks thoughtful questions about your culture and experiences, genuinely interested in learning more about your upbringing.

Loves Your Practicality: He admires how grounded and resourceful you are, especially when you deal with things in a calm, no-fuss Australian way.

Subtle Humor: If you tease him about being too “posh” for Australia, he’ll play along. “So, you’re saying I wouldn’t survive a day in the outback?”

Surprises You with Aussie Treats: He somehow manages to get Tim Tams, Caramello Koalas, or Milo shipped to Gotham, just to make you feel at home.

GENERAL TRAITS ── .✦

The Spiders Are a Problem: You casually mention a massive spider in your house, and all of them (except Damian) are horrified. “How are you not freaking out right now?!”

Vegemite Debates: None of them can handle Vegemite except Damian, who eats it with no complaints just to prove he can.

Drop Bears: You convince at least one of them that drop bears are real. (Spoiler: It’s Tim.) (Ngl the google animation they made for them is fucking cute😭💗💕)

Aussie Slang Confusion: If you say, “I’m going to chuck a sickie,” they all think you’re throwing something. Explaining Aussie slang to them becomes a full-time job.

[zooophagous]

I do understand where you're coming from when it comes to incompetent people just wanting an excuse to kill wild animals and using their neglect of their own animals as their excuse HOWEVER it did kinda sound like you had smth against hobby farmers near the end there. What is your opinion on hobby farmers?

I actually aspire to own a hobby farm some day. There's nothing intrinsically wrong with having goats and chickens because you think they're cool and fun. They ARE cool and fun.

I just don't think your right to have cool and fun pets also gives you the right to kill wildlife around you with no season, no permit and no bag limit because it's threatening what is only your hobby.

If my hobby involved poisoning waterways or felling trees people would rightfully ask me what the fuck I think I'm doing. Especially if there were steps I could take so my hobby wouldn't do that, but I refused to implement those steps because I found them inconvenient.

I'm not even wholly against hunting or trapping in general. I am however of the opinion that wildlife and furbearers such as raccoons and coyotes should be treated like a valuable natural resource and not a pest to be wantonly wasted because it's easier to kill them than to manage your own property better.

If you have a real barn and try your best and an aggressive dog still gets in and mauls your stock and you're forced to shoot it, that's an unfortunate tragedy and the fault of that dogs owner.

However if you decide you want both an unleashed yard dog AND free range unfenced chickens, and your dog, that you are responsible for, is killing your chickens, that you are also responsible for, it's not fair of you to kill the dog when you could easily remedy the situation with a pen or a tie out.

It's the immediate jump to "kill it" as a solution to me. It's never "this isn't working, can I build a better shelter or fence? Can I get creative with what I already have? Is this a good environment for the animal I wanted as a pet?"

And they seem to believe that this approach is just fine because that's how working homesteads did it back in the day. Without realizing they aren't on a working subsistence farm in 1845. They're a yuppie who can order supplies on the internet and have a solution literally dropped off at their front door in a day.

It's sort of like Marie Antoinette play acting at being a shepardess for me. You can take off the costume and go back to normal house life at literally any time, you're doing this because you thought it would be fun, not because you have to; but you refuse to take it seriously enough to prevent death and chaos in any meaningful way.

I might shoot a wolf if I was a poor shepherd on a working farm and my sheep were my entire livelihood. I would not, however, have a cute little herd of pet sheep in a flimsy chicken wire fence with no barn and spend my weekends killing wolves for daring to get too close to them.

I consider it similar to shooting bears over bait barrels full of apples, except it's coyotes over a group of fat poorly bred tractor supply chickens.

[moonstruckme]

Idk if you’re still taking requests for your bake sale (which is the cutest idea btw) but if you are… apple pie, prompt number 31 with Steve? (three people sat on a two-seater sofa)

I was! This probably wasn't what you had in mind but I thought it would be silly so here you go :)

cw: alcohol

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 693 words

“Stay still.” Steve’s voice is low, a smile teasing his lips. “I’ve almost got it.” 

You roll your eyes at him, but your own smile is just as poorly repressed. You still love it when he flirts with you. Even when you’re at one of his friend-of-a-friend’s parties where everyone wants to talk with him, Steve only has eyes for you. 

“I don’t know how you missed it the first three times.” 

“Does it seem like I’m fucking around? It’s tricky, babe.” 

“Seems like you might be fucking around a little bit…” you tease.

Steve swipes at something under your eye. “Got it. What’d I tell you?” 

You beam at him. “Okay, I take it back. My hero.” 

His grin widens, but he squints at your face. “Yeah, except now you’ve got makeup on your cheek. Sorry.” 

“Really.” You frown, wiping at where he’d touched with your finger. It must have smeared your mascara. “Can you get it off?” 

“Yeah, just a sec, you’ve gotta make a wish first.” Steve holds up his finger in front of you, your eyelash balanced on its tip. 

You roll your eyes again, but neither of you are buying that you’re anything other than totally besotted with him. You inhale, holding your wish in your head. 

You blow the lash harder than you mean to when you’re jostled from behind. 

Steve frowns over your shoulder. The guy behind you has found a new and innovative way to make out with his girlfriend, him leaning over the edge of the couch and her on the beanbag below. The two of them set up camp long after you and Steve had been sitting on this couch, and the limited space means he occasionally bumps you in his enthusiasm. 

“We should move,” Steve says, not for the first time. 

“No way,” you reply again. “We were here first.” 

“This couch wasn’t made for three people.” 

You huff, irritated. “Yeah, but all the other seating is taken.” 

“I’ll get us a nice patch of carpet,” he bargains. “We’ll treat it like a picnic.” 

You shake your head. You know you’re being stupid, but it’s the principle of the thing. You want the guy who’d squeezed onto your couch to have to share it with you. “It’s not fair that we have to be the ones to move,” you say. 

Steve sighs, but his expression is fond. “Fine. At least swap places with me.” 

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Your funeral,” you say, but you scoot into the spot he leaves vacant when he stands.

Steve presents a stronger front than you had, sitting up instead of leaning away from where the other guy is infringing upon his space. 

“Alright, c’mere,” he says, reaching for you. “Let me get your makeup.” 

You lean forward happily. Steve uses the condensation from his beer to wet his thumb, rubbing at your cheek concentratedly. It’s then that your couch companion chooses to sit up. Evidently, he really had forgotten he was sharing the couch with two other people, because he knocks right into Steve, causing your boyfriend to lurch forward and for a bit of his beer to spout over the lip of the bottle and into your laps. 

You press a hand over your mouth, laughing, while Steve expels an incredulous breath. 

The guy looks back as though surprised to find him there. “Sorry, man.” He claps a hand on Steve’s shoulder, wandering off. 

“Quick,” you urge, “scoot back!” 

When Steve doesn’t move fast enough, you get up and move behind him, taking up the other side of the couch and stretching out your legs so there’s no space for anyone else. 

“What an ass.” Steve still looks in shock. 

“At least we held down the fort,” you say gleefully. “We won in the end.” 

“We won?” He laughs. “You’ve got beer on your pants, baby.” 

You shrug, ignoring the cold on your legs. “A small price to pay for victory.” 

Steve huffs, but he’s grinning, crawling across the couch to meet you. “You are so—” he kisses you firmly “—stubborn.” 

“Mhm, yeah. Now get back in your place before somebody takes it.” 

[yanderefarm]

yandere omega cultist introduction

more bad art. more disjointed thoughts. i hope i don't contradict myself when i write his part 2.

cw;; religion, omegaverse, yandere tendencies, nsft

Nephite is a very devoted and proud follower of Happy Homes. he loves his church, he loves his pastor, he loves his god.

he's always so happy to prepare the sacrament and take care of the youngest members of the church. absolutely anything he can do to help makes him happy.

his father is a very strict and rigid in his beliefs kind of man. his beliefs aligned nicely with the founder's so he and his wife joined when they had just gotten married. all their children have been raised in the cult and they don't know about anything outside of the compound.

Nephite's family along with a few others are technically considered lowest in the church hierarchy because they entered the church after marriage. they don't get treated poorly it just means they're in charge of providing food for the compound.

the coming of age omegas were promised that if they brought new alphas to the cult they would raise in rank with their new families.

Nephite was especially looked at favourably for this due to being a "dominant" omega. he was promised that his new family would be able to rise to the level of elder right under the founder's own family.

his family was more excited about the new power than he was, he just wanted to serve the church.

after meeting you the promise that elders were allowed to go into the city made the raise in rank more appealing to him.

he wants to go to all of your favorite places. he wants to go to the movies and eat popcorn. he wants to play games at the arcade. he wants to try sweets at the cafe. he's never wanted to go to the outside world before he met you.

the church never teaches that the outside world is some ominous and dangerous threat. just that impure omegas have convinced people to disrupt the natural order. if you showed any member of the cult omega/omega couples they would combust.

thats why Nephite has to save you. he has to pull you away from the wickedness of the outside world before you become ruined. if you told him you'd been in alpha/alpha relationships he would combust.

honestly if you tell him about your dating history or experiences he'll combust. he knows it's wrong for an omega to be angry and aggressive but he can't help himself. the idea of any impure hands touching you sends him spiraling.

he could easily be convinced someone else in the cult wants you for themselves. especially if his pastor says so.

he trusts anything his pastor tells him even if it was utterly ridiculous. he was the kind of kid who believed in santa until adulthood. he would believe you if you said the sky was red.

you're the only one who overrides the pastor's words. if the pastor tells him to leave you because you don't love him he wouldn't believe it.

honestly if you started saying you don't love him he could probably justify to himself why you're lying. lying is a sin but its ok he forgives you.

he loves wearing dresses. at first it might seem like a religious thing but the other male omegas in the community usually only wear dresses to church. he wears them all year round.

if you buy him a sundress he'll be so happy he'll wear it every chance he gets. he flaunts it to all his friends how his alpha got him something pretty.

buy him anything and the whole commune will know about it baring few exceptions. you bought him a new bible? he takes it with him everywhere. you bought him some jewelry? its always on to show off at a moments notice. you gave him a cool rock? its his lucky rock and has to go everywhere with him.

he adores pet names. call him anything even if it doesn't sound that cute and he's thrilled. he calls you husband and alpha and dearest until he can't talk anymore.

if you call him wife he'll probably start crying. he likes husband too but he was taught all omegas are wives so he'll probably be confused at first if you call him that.

nsfw

his dad was in charge of making his account and monitoring his messages so unfortunately for you if you ever sent something dirty. the pastor probably also saw it. sorry.

Nephite definitely smells like blackberries and honey. its sweet and warm and permeates through everything he owns.

he has a breeding kink. major breeding kink. after your first night together its like he's constantly in heat (his actual heats are so much worse). he knows it's a bit naughty but he won't be satisfied until he's pregnant.

he'll be understanding if not a bit sad if you don't want to have kids but still tell him you're gonna get him pregnant every night anyway.

one of the few things he wouldn't go around letting everyone know you gifted him is lingerie and toys.

you'll need to explain toys to him a little bit but he understands lingerie. he loves lingerie. if you buy him some he'll wear it under his dresses all the time. it feels a bit naughty but he doesn't mind.

definitely secretly has a corruption kink. he's devoted his whole life to being a pure innocent soul so when his husband who he's equally devoted to starts making him be naughty he gets such a thrill.

he'll cry and beg you to not turn him into a pervert but he's just talk. nothing makes him squirt harder than being told he's dirty.

and he is a squirter. you have to work him to it but the moment your knot pops inside of him its over for him.

the cult doesn't believe in modern medicine like heat suppressants or birth control so everyone in the compound uses natural remedies for everything. except that doesn't work for dominant omegas. most modern heat suppressants don't. Nephite's first heat was absolutely brutal for him and he was stuck in bed for two weeks before they finally let him see a doctor in the city. that's when he learned about his status and he was put on some of the strongest heat suppressants. it works but it did make him feel weaker sometimes.

luckily now he's married so he threw all that out. he doesn't let you take any rut inhibitors either. when it's time for either of you he just politely tells the pastor that he'll be gone for the next two weeks. they don't always last that long but he likes to get extra cuddles in while the last of it fades.

its during his first heat with you that you mark him. its a weird marriage ritual the cult has where the pastor distributed heat inducers into Nephite. the elders of the cult along with the pastor watched you guys. it really ramped up the creepy cult vibes. but Nephite was happy.

he knows you can't mark him more than once but he always wants you to bite him again. he likes if you leave any marks on him. claw his hips, bite his neck, leave hickeys on his chest. he doesn't care how hard it is to cover up he'll be happy.

loves to steal your clothes. he'll remake his nest about once a week and give you back your clothes so you can add your scent again. and the ones that dont pass the nest test he wears to bed until they lose their smell.

he'll welcome you home like "do you want dinner, a bath, or me?" and if you don't say him he'll pout all through dinner.

[dykesynthezoid]

There’s lots of “Arthur was totally oblivious to Merlin’s magic the entire time because he’s just that dense” and the flipside “what if Arthur had figured out Merlin had magic ages ago and just didn’t say anything” but quite frankly I think there should be more “consciously Arthur refuses to entertain the idea of Merlin being a sorcerer, but his subconscious has been picking up on all the weird coincidences and it’s getting harder and harder for him to ignore”

Like Arthur isn’t always the smartest but I do think there’s a difference between obliviousness and willful ignorance. Arthur has some very obvious reasons not to want to believe Merlin could be a sorcerer. Namely that he cares about Merlin and thinks Merlin is Good, whereas he’s always believed and been taught that sorcery is an absolute Evil. Therefore Merlin cannot be a sorcerer, because he’s not evil.

There’s also the fact that he’s convinced Merlin is incompetent— Arthur’s idea of magic is not just malicious, but intentional. It’s something you do, on purpose, and it requires effort. If Merlin’s incompetent, then he couldn’t be doing any of those things. And Arthur, frankly, throughout most of the show, kind of needs to be able to think of Merlin as incompetent, because if Merlin wasn’t incompetent, it would mean Arthur had been unjustly insulting him and treating him poorly for years.

So Arthur, very willfully, refuses to even entertain the idea of Merlin having magic. It’s just so silly! Except, of course; it’s kind of hard not to notice how suspicious Merlin is. Like. He’s not very good at hiding it. Luckily Arthur is very good at repression, and so he can just kind of ignore that; but that also is only going to work for so long.

And I think there’s so much to be explored about the process of Arthur’s repression starting to fail, and his subconscious finally starting to break through to his conscious mind and call attention to everything about Merlin that Arthur has been willfully ignoring.

And when you add things like Arthur’s daddy issues and internalized homophobia— Merlin can’t be one of them, but also Arthur can’t be attracted to one of them, but also Arthur can’t be attracted to a man, but also men are people who take action, and sorcerers are people who do intentional evil, and Merlin isn’t like that— But he is? And what does it say about Arthur that he— That he could want—

And in all of that Arthur is just sitting there while he mentally fights his psychosexual demons. And Loses. Big time.

[starlightshadowsworld]

Monster high Freaky Fusion except the fusion machine was created by Jackson. He’s sick and tired of people bullying and looking down on him for being part normie.

Holt belongs here, but Jackson never will. He can’t go to the normie world because it’ll put Holt in danger. So he’s decided to do himself and Holt a favour in separating them both.

Much like his great grandfather, Henry Jekyll tried long ago. It’s his research Jackson’s using and while Holt is supportive, imagining all the parties he can throw and fun he can have.

He’s not as jazzed about this as Jackson is.

“You’ll finally be without me, free to do whatever you want. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”

“Yeah but…it didn’t go so well for gramps did it?”

Unfortunately Manny decided to ruin Jackson’s hard work causing the machine to malfunction and misfire.

Turning several monster high students into hybrids. Jackson and Holt teach them how to cope with their new situation, and in doing so become closer.

Everyone sees what life is like for Jackson and realises how poorly they’ve been treating for him.

Jackson learns from his great grandfathers mistakes, embraces his mixed heritage and finally gets the love he deserves.

They throw a party, one with Jackson friendly music so he can join in this time. It was Holt and Heaths idea.

[eclipseberrycake]

Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt. 9.5*

AN: The poll isn't over juuussst yet but I'm pretty sure of what is gonna win, so here we are <3 I do appreciate those voting for Roo's choice! Kissing your foreheads so softly rn /platonic So I kind of split the diff, you know? This was my choice was this part right here. Bc it makes me laugh. We get more MBC too, since I'm also going to start Part 10! Yay! Then I'll get back to requests! So, you'll get this today, then maybe part 10 either later tonight (Probably Tomorrow), then on Thursday I'll start requests again since Wednesday is my rest day!

ALSO also, people are figuring out my little clues and like I'm so proud of all of us. We're killing it, y'all are great at picking up the small nuances, Kissing you so gently on the forehead right now.

ALSO ALSO, also, I think the general consensus was that it's okay to give Reader a tail? I might hold off just for now to see if any objections come from it, but if there are none come part 11, I'll add it permanently! For this chapter, it's just a trial run! It's totally okay too if thats not something you guys want too, let me preface! If it turns out you guys try it, hate it, and want it gone I can come back and edit this part! Hence the "*" in the title!

Part One -> Part Two -> Part Three -> Part Four -> Part Five -> Part Six -> Part Six 1/2 -> Part Seven -> Part Eight -> Part Nine

Warnings: None, really, except for some of my personal ships. I don't wanna see any debate about them, this is mostly my preferences.

☁ He's watching you.

☁ He's watching you and you know it. You're momentarily ignoring it as you're elbow deep in the cookie jar, newly filed nails just barely brushing against a cookie at the very bottom. It makes you huff in annoyance at it before you're moving to kneel on the counter, hoping to reach further into the frankly too-larger-to-be-normal cookie jar. It just evades you're hand once more, and your tail gives a whip in annoyance.

☁ You would use the additional limb, but you've gotten in trouble more times than you could count with using your tail in the kitchen. Something about it getting too close to the Twisteds for it to be sanitary at all. You rolled your eyes at that, but since returning from your time as a Twisted, for a second time, you obeyed where you could.

☁ All while he's watching you struggle, hiding a poorly concealed snicker behind his blanket. It makes you huff once more before finally getting a finger on the cookie, making you grin. You hook it to the side, gently dragging it up so you can grab it, only for it to crumble.

☁ You let out a cry, retracting your cookie-less hand to stare in the jar, bewildered at the absolute audacity.

☁ This time he can't stop the laugh that spills out of him, making you glare at him. "You could've helped."

☁ "I could've." Astro agrees, standing from his chair, where he has a glass of milk and his own trio of cookies on a plate in front of him. "But where's the fun in that?"

☁ He walks over to the cookie jaw and reaches a longer arm in, making your tail wag behind you as you watch him grab one of the larger chunks of your broken treat. You quickly grab your set aside plate and hold it out for him to set the piece on the plate. One by one, every piece is set on the plate before he's pulling his arm back and putting the lid back on. It's flipped upside down so the top of the jar is facing the inside, signifying it's empty.

☁ With so many toons living in one area, it was easy for small things like an empty cookie jar to make tensions rise, so small things like that just made everything flow so much easier.

☁ You thank Astro with a happy little kiss, making him hum contentedly at your actions before you're both returning to the table. You have your own cup of milk as well, both of you picking up the tradition of a pre-bedtime snack a few months back. Or so you thought that's when it started.

☁ For Astro, this had always been the two of you's thing. Sprout and Cosmo baked, himself and Sprout went through old episodes together and the other handler rooms, even Cosmo and himself had scary movie nights. Everyone had their thing with each other, and cookies in the kitchen late at night was yours and his. This was the first place you told him about the Teagan and Rodger tension, which had grown exponentially. And as much as he tried to pretend he wasn't, he was a huge gossip.

☁ The familiar action of just you and him talking about everything going on, debriefing if one would, was something he held so dear and close to his chest, and he's sure you knew it too as you would never let more than three days pass before shaking him awake with a cheeky grin, nodding to the doorway.

☁ It reminded him of when he came back in all honesty. Never would that Astro ever have thought he would've been where he is now, with you and Cosmo and Sprout and Blu and everyone back, but as he is now, he would rather turn into a twisted again then give it up.

☁ His own tail gave a wag as he slid one of his cookies onto your plate, giving you The Look when you tried giving it back. You took it with a humored rool of your eyes, before rewrapping yourself in your own blanket, crossing your legs on your chair as you settled in.

☁ The lights were down low and gave your cheeks the softest orange tint and your eyes the softest of amber highlights. It made his tail wag at the sight of it, the silly thing giving away all of his emotions before he even had the chance to stop it.

☁ "So," You begin, folding your hands in front of you like it's a business meeting. "Check-in. How is Mr. Novalite doing?"

☁ He guffaws at the drop of his name, but copies your seated postion anyway with one pair of hands holding his blanket while the other twists with his tail to stop it from wagging like a lunatic. "I'm...content. Honestly. Sprout and I found some more sealed documents in Delilah's old room and are planning on looking through those soon. Cosmo and I have plans to watch that new Heretic movie that just came out. You and I are having our own date night. Plus, I know we all have a big date night coming up. Did you and Cosmo decide on what you wanted to do?"

☁ You nod, grinning happily as your own tail gives a wag. "Spa treatments then a movie night! We have it all planned out and ready to go, with a few special treats ordered for the night!"

☁ Your excitement is palpable and contagious, so much so Astro has to tighten his hold on his own tail, even if the moon at the end continues to move regardless. "That sounds perfect." He gives a sappy grin. "Other than that, myself and Shelly started a new book Brightney recommended to us, so we've been doing that to reconnect. And I think...that's really it from my end."

☁ You soften at the new information, leaning on one of your hands as your elbow settles on the table. "You sound happy."

☁ "I am. Immensely." He returns, reaching a hand. You give your free one eagerly, letting him hold it and trace his thumb over the knuckles of your hand. "Now, what about you? You've been busy."

☁ You nod, watching his thumb before thinking back to what you've been doing lately. "Well, Cosmo and I have started getting into art lately. We spent last night painting with music in the background, and it was nice. We got to talk without really thinking about it-oh, by the way, we decided you would be the boot in monopoly."

☁"...The boot." He has to take a second, mentally going through the pieces before realizing he never cared enough to know them all.

☁ "Yeah, we originally thought thimble because it sounds like thumb and you have the most thumbs, but it was way funnier if you went with the boot." You explain as if any of that made any sense whatsoever. "Also, did you know he wants like eight kids? Not happening." You scrunch your features before shaking his head. "Like, don't get me wrong, I liked the kids when Gardenview was in it's prime, but eight? All the time?!" You grimace, making him chuckle before your shaking your head.

☁ "Anyway, Sprout and I, what have we been doing?" You think for a second, before perking right up. "A few things! We've been playing games a lot! It started with Mario Kart, and then we found mini-gold clubs on one of the runs and now we set up increasingly difficult holes. It's great! I kick his ass!" You beam. Astro's sure half the problem for Sprout is that the mini-golf clubs made for children are much too short for him, but he doesn't bring that up.

☁ "And with friends, Goob's going through something- which I'll tell you in a second-, but Glisten and I have gotten closer lately. He joined our tag runs recently and he actually kills it! Especially with his teleporting? I don't think he's been tagged once." You explain, raising your head so you could use that hand to gesture as you speak. "We're thinking of doing some sort of Geo-caching too, but it's hard because we can't really leave Gardenview. That's okay though. As for now, I'm here with you, moonshine."

☁ His cheeks dust navy at the compliment, squeezing your hand tighter. "Do you remember the first time we did this?"

☁ You hum, thinking back before nodding. "I think I do. It was before we started dating. I think I remember being pissy because people kept saying Cosmo and I were dating but we weren't. But it wasn't because people were saying it, but because I had a huge stinkin' crush on him at the time and he could not pick up the hint."

☁ He chuckles. "Yeah. I was a little relieved at that you know. I had a 'huge stinkin' crush' on this cute distractor that had come to visit me. Imagine how crushed i would've been." He teases and you stick your tongue out. "Please. You were just as bad. I was doing the same goofy moves to you and Sprout literally within the same week and you didn't pick up on it either."

☁ "Neither of you picked up on anything, don't you fool yourselves." A new voice startles you both, making you look over at the doorway. Sprout is there, raising a brow at you both. Cosmo is hanging off his side, looking like he's seconds away from collapsing, eyes bleary and slowly blinking. Both of you wave at them, even if Sprout's eyes dart to the cookie jar and he gives an exasperated groan. "Again?"

☁ "In our defense, most of this batch were eaten by Goob. He's going through some stuff." You wince, watching as Astro pulls a chair to his side with his foot, close enough they make a soft clink when they hit, opening his blanket the duo. Cosmo takes the invitation, slumping forward as he practically crawls on the chair and burrows into the celestial, who wraps his arms around the cake roll, covering him in his cloak-blanket. At this point, you aren't even sure which it is.

☁ Sprout raises a brow at you, grabbing an apron off the hook and quickly slipping it on as he steps towards the cabinets. "What do you mean? Goob is the last person I'd expect."

☁ "Me too!" You exclaim, gently easing your hand from Astro's so you can turn to the side, making talking to both Sprout and Astro (and Cosmo by extension) easier. "But- Pause. Rewind. What do you know of the Teagan and Rodger drama? I know Astro is caught up because I told him and Cosmo knows because he's been here since it started, but I don't know if any of us have caught you or the other mains up."

☁ "Not much." Sprout responds, pulling out the butter and sugar in practiced motions as you bite into your cookie, nodding as if this was the answer you expected. "What kind of cookies do we want this time?"

☁ "Double chocolate. There's a new cocoa powder-" Cosmo suddenly pipes up, even if his eyes stay shut, interrupting himself with a yawn. "That I ordered specifically for that recipe we were looking at."

☁ Sprout nods at this, preheating the oven as he passes to grab the larger electric mixer. He measures out the butter and two types of sugar before letting them mix, going back to the pantry for the powdered ingredients. "Okay, so what is the reason? Like I know obviously the other day in the elevator there was a nerve hit."

☁ "Yeah," You dip a piece of your broken cookie in your glass of milk. "So I'll start from the beginning. When we first recovered Teagan, her and Rodger were like...inseparable. I mean, they had Toodles, so like we kinda assumed they'd be. Toodles was ecstatic to have them both back too, so we were all like 'great, perfect.' It was not in fact great or perfect." You throw the piece into your mouth as Sprout sifted said cocoa powder, flour and a few other things into a separate bowl.

☁ "It was fine for the first little bit and then we started recovering more and more people, then they began fighting, like a lot. Like more than I would classify as normal for...any couple really. It was silly, small, petty things too like Rodger didn't say good morning to her first." You continued. "He normally said good morning to Toodles first, but he was far from perfect either. I remember once, he like lost his shit because she picked up a research capsule."

☁ "He called her all sorts of names, didn't he?" Cosmo piped in, poking open an eye. You nodded at this. "I wasn't convinced they weren't gonna get physical that run. They were so loud I had to work double time to keep the twisteds occupied as Cosmo had to do twice as many machines."

☁ This made both Sprout and Astro grimace, the latter rubbing the cake roll's shoulder in sympathy even if this was long in the past.

☁ You're thinking momentarily, trying to decipher when it truly turned to shit when it hits you. "It was when Glisten came back that they broke up. Rodger made it this whole thing too in the middle of the run. I don't really blame Glisten as he was unaware of Toodles like...being their kid, we hadn't had the chance to fill him in. He was spending a lot of time with Rodger though, so we just expected him to fill Glisten in. Turns out, he didn't. In retaliation, Teagan started seeing Shrimpo."

☁ Sprout is gaping behind you as he pauses where he's adding an egg to the mixer. He recovers quickly, throwing out the shell before adding vanilla to the mix as well. He turns down the mixing speed before turning to you. "Shimpo? And Teagan?"

☁ You nod, watching Cosmo take one of Astro's cookies, making the Celestial huff at this even if his newly freed tail wags behind him. You grin before turning back to Sprout. "Yeah, trust, we weren't expecting it either. They were also about as explosive as you'd expect. If Teagan and Shrimpo weren't fighting, it was him and Rodger or her and Rodger or all three of them depending on the day. At this point, Glisten was aware he was in a little too deep, but he had fallen hard and fast and didn't know what to do."

☁ "What did he do? I can't expect him to do much in that situation." Astro pipes in, mindlessly handing Cosmo his glass- which the cake roll was reaching for. "And what happened to Toodles?"

☁ "That's what Glisten did." Cosmo steps in, dipping his stolen treat. "He would take Toodles the second this started up and would come to either mine or Y/N's room. His was still being put together and if nothing else, he knew he could trust us to step in if they tried bringing the fight to him. Which they did. It seemed if they were fighting, everyone needed to fight."

☁ "You're joking." Sprout spits, putting down the bowl with the flour mixture he was adding to the mixer. "That's so ridiculous."

☁ "I wish we were." You shrug. "But no. Which is kind of why they hate our relationship so much because we don't fight, and our arguments are often just a matter of temporary disagreement then true hostility." Your tail gives a whip behind you. "It only got physical during this period once. Once was all that was needed though. Shrimpo and Rodger had gotten into it with Teagan instigating, like pouring gas on an electric fire, and Shrimpo snapped, throwing a fist. Toodles saw and Glisten stepped in then while Scraps took Toodles. He was already on the brink, but they didn't break up during that."

☁ "How did they break up?" Sprout asks, now thoroughly entwined in this story. "They aren't together now, as far as I'm aware." He turns back to adding the powdered ingredients and you let him finish before answering.

☁ "Shrimpo and Glisten walked in on Rodger and Teagan." You explain and the bowl is nearly dropped in time with Sprout's jaw. Astro hums at this, having a similar expression when he first heard it. You nod before continuing. "They broke up with them then and there. They didn't take it well and it was this huge thing once more. Runs were absolute agony for the a little while. Glisten, in his defense, absolutely refused to interact with them though. Refused to look at them, talk to them, and I'm pretty sure for a while refused to do runs with them."

☁ The mixer is stopped and scraped as a few cookies sheets are pulled out and prepped, Sprout moving to roll the dough balls out, adding chocolate chips as he does. "When was all this?"

☁ "Right before we got Astro back was when the peak hit. It slowly got better when we got you back, and it's remained a little stagnant. Until recently." You give a devious smirk, knowing all three are hooked onto the information you're about to share. "Let me preface this with saying, everything I tell you I have permission to do so. Goob knows I'm doing this-"

☁ "Goob's involved?!" Cosmo whines, now looking wide awake.

☁ "Not in the way you think!" You quickly remedy. "No, he's involved in a different way. Because him and I work really well together, we do a lot of runs together, which duh, you guys know, but Glisten has wanted to get away from...you know...So he's started hanging with us a lot more. Anyway, they do their own thing, we do ours, but Goob came up to me the other day, and you wanna know what he said?"

☁ "Is that even a question?" Astro snorts. "What do you get from teasing us like this?"

☁ "Satisfaction, especially when I tell you that Goob has a big ol' stinkin' crush on GLISTEN." You share, and all three gape at the new piece of information. "Scraps won't have it, she's literally fuming because, and I quote, why would he want to get involve in all that drama. Goob literally refused to let her say anything about it further, going to war. I had never seen Goob so upset with his sister before."

☁ "Was this during that run we did a couple days ago? The one where tripped over a can of pop and smoked his face against a machine?" Cosmo eagerly asks, sitting up with his hands slamming on the table. "And Glisten was the first to run over and oh my god-?!"

☁ You nod excitedly. "It was! Goob literally has not stopped talking about it since. He even asked how we got together."

☁ "And you had to tell him all about how I was the one to do it?" Sprout smirked, sliding the first batch into the over. You excitement paused as you turned to stare at him, scoffing in his direction. "It was a group effort."

☁ "Nope. All me. Sprout is the greatest. C'mon. Admit it." His spotted cheeks upturn in time with his catlike grin and you continue to scoff.

☁ "Over my dead body maybe." You cross your arms, turning away from him as he comes up behind you. His arms wrap around your shoulders anyway as he nuzzles into your cheek, blowing a raspberry against it and making you squirm against him. You let out a yell at the action, even if he tightens his hold so you can't get out.

☁ The other two simply watch, remaining ignorant to your cries at them for help.

☁ While this has started as just something between you and Astro, watching you and Sprout, with Cosmo returning to burrow in his side, Astro lets his tail wag this time. His heart practically bursts at the full feeling it has and how lucky he considers himself to be a part of this.

☁ You and him will have more date nights, just the two of you, but these moments with all four of you have a way of just making him feel so special.

☁ Almost to the point he feels bad for the others as he knows they'll never feel the same happiness he feels with you guys.

☁ He hopes the past version of himself can rest easy now, knowing he's happy and content, and wouldn't change it for the world.

Also: The Cookie Recipe Sprout is making -> Here!

[maroonshirt81]

omggg what about a carcar cruise au?? Like they meet on the boat 😭🫶

thank you for the great request <3

---

carcar, 2k words, rated m for language

---

When Carlos arrived at his McLarenCruise luxury suite, his luggage was already waiting for him on the bed, next to a young man in a bright orange uniform, who was standing there with his hands folded behind his back. As soon as the door fell shut behind Carlos, the man started to speak like a robot who’d been waiting for its activation command.

“Welcome to your private luxury suite aboard McLarenCruise, where your comfort is our priority,” he drawled in what Carlos guessed to be an Australian accent. “I am Oscar, your personal steward, and I’m here to assist with anything you may need during your voyage.”

“Hello, Oscar,” Carlos said, flashing him a cheeky grin. “What if I need a little more enthusiasm?”

“I’m afraid that is not a service provided by the McLarenCruise stewards' crew,” Oscar prattled on, if possible even more monotone than before. “If you are unsure of how to make use of the steward appointed to you, I can print out a list of appropriate requests. It includes things like unpacking and storing your luggage, stocking your suite with toiletries and other amenities, and delivering room service.”

“Relax, Oscar.” Carlos laughed, plopping down on the bed. “I was only joking. Don’t act like I asked you to take off your pants.”

“I can also print out a list of actions that aren’t appropriate,” Oscar said. “It includes sitting on the bed while joking about your steward taking off his pants.”

Carlos’s mouth dropped open to tell him that he would never, in a million years, ask someone like Oscar to take off his pants, because… well—have you seen Carlos? But he realized in time that the inappropriateness of such a reply was probably even worse than the joke had been to begin with, so he said nothing.

Oscar seemed to take this as his dismissal. He nodded, as if he had provided exceptional service, and then left the suite before Carlos could ask him to unpack his luggage.

****

“Hello, Oscar,” Carlos tried again once evening came around. He had ordered a Risotto al Tartufo Bianco over the comm and then spent 20 minutes checking his hair in the mirror to make sure his charm was turned up to eleven.

He wasn’t the type to treat service staff poorly. In fact, he prided himself on being well-liked by all his subordinates—whether at his own firm, in restaurants, or within his household. He could crack a slightly grumpy Australian, no problem.

“Good evening, sir,” Oscar replied as he wheeled the cart into the suite. “Will you be eating at the table by the window?”

“Yes, please,” Carlos said, following behind to watch Oscar set the dishes on the smaller table in the suite. He looked a little out of place, with his bright orange cap, bright orange polo shirt, black shorts, and white tennis socks, serving a $100 dish to a high-end luxury suite.

“The cruise company forces you to wear this outfit, or is it a personal choice?” Carlos asked as he sat down in the chair Oscar had pulled out for him. He made sure Oscar saw his bright grin and knew that he was joking this time.

But Oscar didn’t laugh. Instead, he heaved a slightly disappointed sigh.

“Please, sir. I know this is a famously hard lesson to learn for old white men. But it is never appropriate to comment on the outfits of people in your service. Please reconsider letting me print out that list for you.”

Carlos was reeling.

Had this guy seriously just called him an old white man? He was thirty!

He must have been reeling for a moment too long because, once again, Oscar nodded at him as if he had just been dismissed after doing an amazing job and left without looking back. He hadn’t even poured Carlos a glass of wine.

And Carlos desperately needed it now.

****

“Hello, Oscar,” Carlos said the next morning, upon opening the door to what he first mistook for a wandering corpse. He had not bothered with trying to be charming today, but the even pastier-than-usual color of Oscar’s round, unremarkable face made him soften a little. “Are you seasick?”

“No, just sick of this job,” Oscar mumbled, barely audible. “What could you possibly want at six in the morning?”

Carlos arched his eyebrows high, surprised by the sudden lack of robot-like professional speech.

“You were asleep?”

“What gave it away?” Oscar asked. There were pillow lines etched into his cheeks, highlighting the truly terrible, blotchy stubble vegetating between the acne scars. Carlos didn’t point that out, though, since the question had clearly been rhetorical anyway.

Despite looking like he had just rolled out of bed, Oscar was wearing his trusty orange hat and orange polo.

“Do you just sleep in these clothes?” Carlos blurted, remembering Oscar’s lecture about outfit comments too late.

Predictably, Oscar started, “I get that at your age, memory might begin to fail, but—”

Carlos threw the door in his face.

Fuck it. He could find the early morning spin class by himself.

****

Oscar continued to be the most infuriating, judgmental, and frankly useless service personnel Carlos had ever dealt with. The charm offensive was not working, just like Oscar’s eyes, apparently, because he kept insinuating Carlos was some geriatric creep with a power kink. All week, he made Carlos feel like the biggest asshole who ever lived, hinting again and again at printing out a list of appropriate and inappropriate behavior toward his luxury cruise stewards.

Carlos even started to have nightmares about a monster with an orange for a head and unblinking, dead eyes, accusing him of wanting to fuck it.

And yet. 

And yet, when he was lounging on a sun chair on the deck by the pool one afternoon, sending a request for a hopefully spit-less cocktail to be delivered to him, he felt an odd pang of disappointment when a different, much more chipper-looking orange-capped young man appeared to deliver it to him.

“Where’s Oscar?” he asked.

“Oh, he has the afternoon off,” the guy informed him, somehow managing to directly answer his question without implying Carlos was a sick freak who should be arrested for indecent behavior.

“I see,” Carlos said.

“I’ll be at your beck and call until he’s back, sir,” the chipper guy said cheerfully. After a week of Oscar’s flat stare, this guy’s energy felt borderline manic.

“That’s fine, I won’t be needing you again,” Carlos sighed, waving him away.

Damn. He had come on this trip to wind down from his stressful job, maybe have a little summer fling with a hot twink—not to be haunted by a prickly, orange steward.

Letting his eyes wander over the various people surrounding the pool dressed only in the tiniest swimwear possible, he found himself utterly uninterested in any kind of fling. Until…

Until a soft, high giggle caught his ear from a few deckchairs away, where a group of young men were gathered, towels wrapped around their hips or draped over their shoulders.

Carlos immediately perked up. Now that was the kind of laugh he would like to elicit from someone. Honest and unguarded, as if they weren’t used to it but just couldn’t help their good mood in his presence.

Glancing past the various people obstructing his view, Carlos finally found the source of that special giggle, and felt like the air got punched out of his chest for a second.

Because standing there was a guy who could only be an actual, honest-to-God prince. Light brown hair with almost reddish highlights from the sun, falling over his forehead in the most perfect, gravity-defying curl. Crinkly eyes, pale skin with rosy cheeks and a fine peppering of moles spread across his whole body. He was obviously fit, but not in the kind of anabolically enhanced bodybuilder way. His arms had a nice shape to them, as he stood in a cute little pose, hand on his hips, accentuating a tiny waist. And outlined by a wet pair of black shorts was the most perfectly round, biteable ass Carlos had ever seen.

Now that was a guy Carlos would ask to take his pants off!

He kept observing the guy, waiting for the right moment to make his move, and the instant the prince sank into one of the free deckchairs while his friends wandered off toward the pool or the bar, he seized his chance.

Leaving his untouched cocktail behind, Carlos grabbed his bottle of sunscreen instead, master plan already forming in his head.

The guy was lying on his stomach when Carlos reached him, wet drops of water glittering compellingly on his back, face hidden in the nook of his elbow.

Carlos cleared his throat twice before the pretty guy turned his head, blinking one eye open.

“Sorry,” Carlos said, all casual-like. “I noticed your back is starting to be a little red.” Showing off his bottle of sunscreen, he added, “Do you want some of this?”

The guy just stared at him, until Carlos started to sweat a little.

“I could… ah… I could put it on, if you want?”

Finally, the beautiful man pushed himself up on his elbows, his brows furrowing in mild irritation.

And then.

And then he started to speak.

In a very familiar, incredibly judgmental Australian drawl.

“Top subject on the list of inappropriate interactions with your stewards,” he said. “Has to be approaching them on their afternoon off and offering to rub sunscreen all over their body!”

Carlos dropped his bottle of sunscreen without even noticing.

“Oscar?” he croaked, eyes snapping open so wide, he felt they were in danger of rolling right out of their sockets.

“Yes?” Oscar said, as if it was incredibly obvious that this… this God of a man was the same sickly pale steward who kept pestering Carlos’s every waking and sleeping moment with his thinly-veiled insults and scathing remarks. The same orange little traffic light figure. The same bad-mannered human Cheeto who complained about being woken up too early up to eleven o’clock, despite being tasked with bringing Carlos his breakfast.

Carlos turned around, not bothering to pick up his sunscreen, and launched himself right into the pool.

Because that was the closest he came to throwing himself overboard the ship.

****

He was surprised to actually find Oscar by the door come dinner time, wearing the same orange cap and polo and unimpressed expression as always. Carlos had almost expected to be permanently switched to the borderline-manic guy.

“Hello, Oscar,” Carlos said contritely, and stepped away to let him wheel in his little cart.

“Spaghetti Carbonara—the classic Italian version, per your request,” Oscar narrated, as he put down the dishes on the little table by the window. Carlos noticed the additional plate with a cloche over it, hiding its content, before Oscar even pointed it out.

“There’s a special little something for dessert under there. On the house. Bon appétit!”

And with that, he left, once again without pouring Carlos any wine.

Carlos waited until the door had fallen shut behind him, then lunged for the cloche, lifting it up.

As he had expected, there wasn’t actually any dessert under there.

Instead, it was a piece of paper.

Carlos took it and read through it, groaning louder the further he read.

Once he was done, he balled the piece of paper up and threw it across the room. Then he went over to the comm and dialed the steward’s office.

“Mr. Sainz! How can we help you?” a female voice asked from the other side.

“I have a message to leave for Oscar, please. Do you have something for writing?”

“Sure,” the woman said. “Go on.”

“Please write down: Carlos Sainz, 055-8155…”

****

[sxfiamd]

Do you ever ever think about how Guy is the only one who TRULY understands Ramiris.

He knows what she went through and what she is going through (her reincarnation cycle). He defends her and has treated her as an equal despite being so strength obsessed. Guy does not respect those who are weak. He barely gives them the light of day. But ramiris, the weakest of the octagram in her current state, is his close friend. He threatened to kill his best friend (Leon) (who bro is literally attracted to) when he spoke poorly about Ramiris. Ramiris, who is largely shunned and underestimated, is perfectly understood by Guy. He looks past her cocky attitude. He knows who she once was. They stopped Milim together, after all. Ramiris sacrificed her prime for Milim and him. If Ramiris hadn't intervened. Hadn't taken in those corrupted magicules. Guy would have had to.

There's no way of knowing if that would have affected Guy in much capacity. But Guy was tired. He had fought Milim, a match, for seven days and nights. He might have lost. Or he could have won. There is really no way of knowing. Ramiris 'saved' them either way.

He knows that, despite Ramiris slowly degrading memory, she will always be herself and remember after each lifetime. He knows that she may not have the appearance, but she's still the same ramiris. People think Ramiris is stupid, but Guy knows she is one of the smartest. He let's her talk for hours on end. He let's her sit beside him. That's insane. Guy, the literal embodiment of pride, let's a tiny pixie sit beside him in the demon lord council.

The trust they hold with each other is also unbelievable. Guy trusted Ramiris with the decision to allow Rimuru to, basically, exist. She isn't scared of Guy either, like how most people are. Sure, she had said that "Guy is the only demon lord I won't fight" in a fearful-ish way. But that wasn't the fright that Guy often instils. She isn't scared of him. She isn't in fear of ticking him off.

Ramiris has no qualms going straight towards Guy during Walpurgis. She bickers with him. Guy wouldn't ever allow someone to talk like that to him. Except Ramiris.

They know each other. He knows her not as the Spirit Queen or as the annoying pixie, but as Ramiris. She knows him not as Demon Lord Guy Crimson but as Guy.

I really truly believe that they're eachothers actual best friends. Guy would fight Leon, his supposed best friend. He would not fight Ramiris. Rimuru often underestimates Ramiris and treats her as an aloof child. Guy doesn't. At least, not internally.

Guy has teased, of course. Rimuru does recognise Ramiris as a smart and useful person. But it's easily inferable that Rimuru still knows her as, well, annoyingly childish to most people.

Ramiris is the only person who can treat Guy the way she does. The only others that have been shown to be able to are Milim and MAYBE Leon. Leon has shoved Guy, a playful gesture for Guy, even in Leon's annoyance. But to bicker and contradict Guy, the way Ramiris does takes a lot. Their friendship isn't just that. But it's a connection. Ramiris and Guy are immortal and ancient, who both respected Veldanava, who both treated his daughter as one of them, who are two of three ancient DLs.

Ramiris was never a proper demon lord to begin with. She is unable to evolve into a True DL like rimuru or milim. She doesn't have the strength like Leon or Dagruel. She joined the council because of the respect Guy had for her. The gratitude he had for her.

Satan's best friend is a small pixie. The Spirit Queen's best friend is a demon.