#i need to keep practicing and get better at it

[amirasainz]

What about Norris reader (17) and Oldie and Kimi Antonelli have a crush on her. Lando, ever the overprotectiv brother, doesn't like this and the other drivers use it to their advantage, because they find this really funny. Reader is just clueless and thinks the boys are really sweet to her♥️♥️

Wait, why do I ship these three??

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo, babygirl 💕

Two for one

The bustling energy of the Mexican Grand Prix electrified the air as Yn Norris wandered around the paddock, wide-eyed with excitement. Her older brother, Lando, had arranged for her to come along this weekend, and she was thrilled to be there. Being just seventeen, this was one of her first big Grand Prix weekends on her own, without her parents or siblings (except Lando) and she couldn't wait to soak it all in.

As she explored the paddock, she suddenly heard her name being called. Turning around, she found herself face-to-face with Kimi and Ollie, both of whom had driven in Free Practice 1 that day.

"Yn! Fancy running into you here," Ollie greeted with a wide grin.

Kimi smirked, giving her a casual wave. "So, what do you think of Mexico so far?"

Yn smiled brightly. "It’s incredible! I’m so happy Lando invited me."

"Oh, he invited you, did he?" Kimi asked with a sly grin, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting Lando to pop out of nowhere.

Yn laughed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, but he’s already being overprotective. He thinks I'm going to, like, get lost or something. I just wanted to go look around by myself, but he practically assigned me a bodyguard."

Kimi and Ollie exchanged amused looks. "Well, we’re here now. So, if you need someone to show you around or keep you company, I think we can handle that," Ollie offered.

"Yeah, you’re in good hands, Yn," Kimi added with a wink.

---

A little later, Lando noticed Yn with Kimi and Ollie, and immediately, he felt his older brother senses tingling. He walked up to them with an exaggeratedly casual stride, hands stuffed in his pockets but eyes locked onto Kimi and Ollie.

"Hey, Yn," Lando greeted her, then quickly turned to Kimi and Ollie. "What are you guys up to?"

Ollie raised his hands defensively. "Just chatting with your sister, mate. Nothing serious."

Kimi chimed in, smirking slightly. "Yeah, just giving her some company. It can’t be fun to wander around here alone."

Lando narrowed his eyes. "Well, she’s not alone. I’m here."

Yn rolled her eyes. "Lando, I’m fine. You don’t have to act like I’m five."

"Yeah, Lando, she’s fine," Ollie teased, nudging Lando’s arm. "Besides, it's not like Kimi and I are troublemakers."

Max, who had been watching from nearby, wandered over, grinning as he picked up on the situation. "Oh, looks like little Norris has some admirers."

"Yeah, careful, Lando," Checo joined in, laughing as he walked by. "You know, they say these drivers are charmers. Better keep a close eye on her, or she might run off with them to Yucatan."

Lando scowled, crossing his arms. "That’s not funny, guys."

Ollie looked at Yn, feigning a wistful expression. "Yucatan, huh? That could be fun."

Yn rolled her eyes again, laughing. "Ignore them, Ollie. You’re all acting like children."

Kimi leaned closer to her. "Maybe. But you know, Yucatan does sound like a pretty great idea."

Lando stepped in between them, giving Kimi a warning look. "Don’t even think about it, Antonelli."

Kimi laughed, but there was a hint of nervousness. As much as he enjoyed teasing Lando, he could feel Lando’s big-brother protectiveness radiating off him in waves. Still, he couldn’t resist pushing a little.

"Relax, Lando," Kimi said, holding up his hands. "We’re just here to make sure Yn has a good time."

"Under my supervision," Lando shot back, narrowing his eyes. He put an arm around Yn’s shoulder. "You’re staying close to me for the rest of the weekend."

Yn groaned, but Lando’s resolve didn’t waver.

---

The next day, Lando was more determined than ever to keep an eye on his sister. Every time Kimi or Ollie got close, he’d swoop in, leading her away or blocking their paths.

Eventually, Pierre caught onto the whole situation and couldn’t resist chiming in. "You know, Lando, if you keep this up, you’re going to scare away all her potential boyfriends."

Lando shook his head, exasperated. "That’s the plan, Pierre."

Carlos joined the fun, laughing. "Be careful, Lando. Vegas is just around the corner. Blink, and she might end up running off with Kimi or Ollie. Maybe even both."

Ollie, who had overheard, grinned, raising his eyebrows at Yn. "What do you think, Yn? Should we book tickets?"

Yn chuckled. "Oh, please. Lando would probably have a heart attack before we even left the airport."

Lando glared at them. "I’m serious. You two better not get any ideas, you stinky whankers."

Kimi shrugged, but his smirk didn’t fade. "Relax, mate. We’re just keeping her company."

Charles joined the group, looking thoroughly entertained. "I can’t wait for Vegas now. If this is how Lando is in Mexico, Vegas will be legendary. Maybe we’ll all get invited to Yn’s wedding."

Lando groaned, running a hand through his hair. "You all are impossible."

---

As the weekend progressed, Kimi and Ollie kept finding small ways to get Yn’s attention. They’d save her a seat, bring her snacks, and keep her laughing with stories and jokes. Each time, Lando was there, watching like a hawk.

At one point, Yn turned to him, exasperated. "Lando, seriously. I’m just hanging out with friends. Can you please relax?"

"I am relaxed," Lando replied, not convincing anyone.

Yn shot him an annoyed look. "You’re practically breathing down my neck."

Ollie leaned in, whispering, "Told you he’s overprotective."

Kimi chuckled. "You’re handling it well, though."

Yn laughed, shaking her head. "I think it’s actually you two who are nervous around him."

Both Ollie and Kimi exchanged guilty looks, though they quickly covered it with their usual confident smiles. But every time Lando was around, they seemed to straighten up a little, wary of his watchful eyes.

---

On race day, things hit a peak. Kimi and Ollie had managed to catch Yn alone, and they were chatting animatedly about everything from their goals in racing to funny stories from the paddock. Yn was laughing, completely unaware of the fact that both boys were subtly vying for her attention.

But it didn’t take long for Lando to find them, and he wasted no time inserting himself into the conversation.

"Hey, Yn, you ready to come to the garage?" he asked pointedly.

Yn glanced at Kimi and Ollie apologetically. "Duty calls, I guess."

Ollie gave Lando a pleading look. "Come on, Lando. Let her hang out with us for a bit longer."

Lando raised an eyebrow. "Why, so you two can keep flirting with her?"

Kimi flushed, stammering, "W-We weren’t—"

Yn stared at him in surprise. "Flirting? Seriously, Lando? We’re just friends."

"Exactly," Lando said, taking her by the arm. "And that’s all you’re going to be."

Max and Charles, who had been watching the entire exchange, burst into laughter. Charles clapped Lando on the back. "Relax, Lando. You’re acting like you’re her father."

Max nodded, grinning. "Good luck keeping her under control in Vegas. Don’t be surprised if she elopes with one of them. Or both."

Lando scowled, his grip on Yn’s arm tightening slightly. "Not happening. Not on my watch."

Yn sighed, throwing Kimi and Ollie a helpless look as she was guided away. They exchanged amused, slightly nervous glances, but it was clear that they weren’t about to give up. She blew them a kiss, which both Kimi and Ollie pretended to catch. Ollie put his "kiss" to his heart while Kimi put his on his cheek.

As Yn and Lando walked off, she glanced up at her brother, shaking her head. "You know, if you keep acting like this, no one’s ever going to want to date me."

"That’s the point," Lando muttered under his breath.

Yn laughed. "You’re ridiculous."

"And I’m your older brother," he replied, smirking. "Get used to it."

Behind them, Kimi and Ollie shared a look, nodding in silent agreement. They’d have to work harder to get Yn’s attention without incurring the wrath of overprotective older brother Lando. But they weren’t about to give up. After all, Vegas was coming up soon, and as much as Lando hated to hear it, the weekend held endless possibilities.

[artdcnaldson]

you can probably tell all this shit is from me but i'm on something tonight and i'm too pussy to sign off with an emoji. anyway, thinking about bsf!artrick arguing over who fucks better and they look at you and who are you to say no to a purely Scientific Experiment. it's for the greater good! i need them to run a train on me. holy shit. them blindfolding you and making you guess who's fucking you and who's eating you out etc.

You’re so iconic I need you to know I worked on this to make it perfect for you and I hope you enjoy!!

But SIGHHHH Getting tied down to the headboard so you can’t cheat and feel for clues! So you’re blindfolded, tied, and completely susceptible to their whims. They’re trying to ignore how pretty you look, because this is simply to settle a disagreement, okay! This has nothing to do with how bad they’ve both fantasized about fucking you since they’ve known you!

It starts with their hands. You’ve never paid much attention to them before (you’re lying), but you swear you can feel the difference between them just by the touch. Patrick touches like he’s trying to stake a claim on your skin. His hands are rough from use— you can feel the rough scrape of callouses against tender skin as he gropes at your tits. Art’s touch is tender and intentional. A little softer (you know he keeps hand cream in his gym bag so his hands don’t crack and split like Patrick’s)— his hands trace along your body delicately, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

That’s easy, but it’s harder to think when it’s their mouths on your pussy, licking and teasing and fucking devouring. You squirm against the restraints, but firm hands hold you down in one spot. Art’s hands on your hips, Patrick’s fingers teasing at your entrance. Patrick’s mouth— fuck.

Patrick eats you out like he wants to ruin you for anyone else, and he very well could. It’s wet and messy and so, so desperate, like he’s got something to prove. He pulls back and spits your arousal back onto your cunt, and you’re sure there’s a puddle beneath you that’s a mix of spit and your juices. Your back arches off the bed as he hikes one of your thighs over his shoulder, bringing you impossibly closer. The sound of his fingers thrusting into your sopping pussy are so obscene that your cheeks burn— you’ve never been treated like this by anyone else before, but you like it. You like how hot and desirable he makes you feel. His lips wrap around your clit and he sucks with just the right amount of pressure, and your thighs shake from the intensity of it all. You couldn’t have tried to hold off your orgasm if you wanted to— Patrick wanted you to cum, so he made you cum, with all the expertise of someone who’s eaten pussy countless times before.

Your cunt is still twitching with aftershocks when Art moves between your thighs and licks up all of the slick spit and cum from Patrick’s endeavors. It’s almost soothing, how his tongue traces the shape of you, like he’s committing the contours of your body to memory. He rubs at your thigh with his free hand, and uses his other hand to ease two fingers into your cunt. He doesn’t fuck you with his fingers the way patrick did, he lets your walls flutter around them, squeeze him tight. He moans at the feeling, at your taste. There’s something about the way that Art nuzzles against your pussy, his nose rubbing at your clit as he tastes you, that tells you he fucking loves it. Patrick is good at eating girls out, but Art lives for it. Your hips cant against his mouth, and Patrick makes no move to hold you down, Art wouldn’t have wanted him to. Art lets you buck against his tongue, his nose, cover his face in your juices. The noises he makes are so pornographic you’d think he was the one getting head. You’re so oversensitive that Art makes you cum like it’s no work at all, with teasing licks against your clit and pressure against your g-spot. He’s practically making out with your pussy as you come down, and finally relents with one final kiss to your twitching clit.

“I can’t—“ you gasp, chest heaving after having two orgasms in such a quick succession. “I just need a break, I need… fuck, like a minute to catch my breath.”

“Yeah?” That’s Patrick’s voice, beside you. When he rubs a hand over your thigh you inhale a shaky breath. “You sure you wanna keep going?”

Then there’s Art’s hand, rubbing along your bicep and brushing hair from your face. “We can stop.”

You should feel exposed and vulnerable— tied up to your headboard with a silk scarf from your dresser, your entire body on display for your two best friends. Your entire body burns with need and desperation. You’ve wanted it for so long, and now that you’ve had it, how can you go back to the way things were before? How can you look at Patrick and Art when you know how their mouths and hands feel against your body? You can’t stop there— you can’t give up because what if they’re hit with clarity immediately after? What if you never get a chance again?

“Don’t wanna,” you say quickly. “Please don’t stop.”

If you weren’t blindfolded, you’d be able to see the pleased grins on their faces. They’ve wanted you like this for fucking months, and now there you are, all tied up, pretty, and dripping for them. Fuck tennis, this is one competition neither of them is willing to lose.

You feel them coax your thighs further apart, opening you up to them completely. You don’t have time to feel shy about how exposed you are, because one of them positions himself between your thighs, notching at your entrance.

In your attempts to identify which one it is, you rely on the few senses you can access. His breath hitches the second the head of his cock breaches your entrance, slipping into your wet warmth. A strangled gasp that you hear him struggle to silence. He’s positioned over you— you can smell sweet cologne and shampoo as he holds his body up and drives into your cunt. The brush of coarse hair against your clit, the feel of hairy thighs sandwiched between yours as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“Patrick,” You pant out as soon as he’s fully sheathed inside of you. Of course it’s Patrick, staking his claim on your body first.

“Mhmm,” His breath is hot against your ear. “You’re so smart.” The condescending tone of his voice makes your stomach do a fucking somersault. “Goddamn, you’re so fucking tight. Pussy’s trying to suck me in, isn’t she? Feels that good, huh?”

Now you understand the revolving door of Patrick’s hookups, why girls put themselves through the Sisyphean cycle of pleasure and heartbreak over and over again for him. Just his words are enough to set your body on fire. All you manage in response is a pathetic nod, an involuntary arch of your back as he slowly pulls out of your cunt, then drives back in hard. The moan that spills from your lips is unlike any sound you’ve ever heard yourself make before.

“That’s it,” he coos. “Just take it, baby. You're fuckin' made for it.” And you are— at least, it really feels like it. You feel him reposition— sit back on his knees, grab you by your hips, and fuck into your cunt nice and deep. He fucks like he doesn’t care if you’re going to cum, which is clearly untrue, given how close you are already.

When your climax hits you, it’s like it’s being pulled from some hidden depth in you— ripped from the very core of your being. Your toes curl, your cunt grips him like a vise, so tight his rhythm falters. It’s dizzying, all consuming. Intense and short-lived, like most of his relationships. Still, he fucks you through overstimulation until he pulls out and cums onto your tummy.

“Go ahead, I broke her in for you.” Patrick sounds smug, and you hear the clap of skin on skin as he slaps a hand on Art’s shoulder.

It doesn’t feel much like an experiment anymore. Not when you know when Art climbs on top of you, when you feel soft kisses peppered along your jaw. That goddamn oral fixation.

He eases your thighs apart, spreads you out for him. Art’s thighs are smooth against yours. From a distance, he looks hairless, but you can feel the soft brush of fine hair again your own thighs.

A shaky gasp escapes you as his cock glides against your cunt. Slow ruts of his hips that coat his length in your arousal and judge his tip against your clit. You can feel your pussy dripping for him, that little tease of friction and pleasure.

Art’s loud. You can hear his soft little pants and moans as he humps against your cunt, until he can’t take it anymore. “‘M gonna put it in, okay?”

You nod and let him push in nice and slow. He groans and buries his head against your neck, and you’re conscious of the brush of soft curls against your skin, of his hot breath panting against you. “You feel so good, Jesus, fuck—“

He grinds his hips into you— nice and slow, so each movement sends pleasure sparking up your nerves. You can't help but wrap your legs around his waist, heels digging in to tug him closer, deeper.

You've kissed Art before— at parties during stupid games meant to play on raging hormones and pent up sexual desire. Bottles spun that land on him, smoke shotgunned into your mouth when you're both a little crossed and can't help yourselves. But it's different then, when he smashes his lips to yours, licking hungrily into your mouth. Better when he's fucking you nice and deep, his body pressed against yours.

Art Donaldson, ever the sweetheart, the gentleman that Patrick is not. His hand moves between your thighs to toy with your oversensitive clit until you mewl. If the blindfold was off, you'd be able to see the pleased smile he wore when you cried out for him.

"I've got you," he mumbles against your mouth. His forehead presses against yours, his nose nudging softly as he moves between soft kisses and open mouthed gasps of pleasure. He swallows up every sweet noise you give him, squeezes the plush of your thigh in the hand that isn’t rubbing over your clit. Your body tenses with pleasure, arching into him and he moans as you clench around him. “Fuck—“

You want the blindfold off. You want to see Art come apart, you want to know what Patrick’s doing while he watches. You want so much more than you have in that moment. And still, Art brings you to your finish like it’s easy, like every other guy hasn’t struggled to do it before him (well, besides Patrick). You’re spent, panting, oversensitive and yet you still feel a throb of need as Art jerks himself off over you.

With the blindfold on, all you can hear is the slick sounds of his hand pumping over his cock, his whiny moans, and then you feel the shock of warm ropes of cum landing on your skin, dripping down your sensitive, swollen cunt and pooling on the sheets.

It’s only then that the blindfold is pulled off, and you can see the mess they’ve made of you. Patrick’s cum dried and smeared over your stomach and Art’s abs, Art’s cum glazing your pussy. They untie your hands and you don’t even realize until then that they’re all tingly with lack of blood flow. Patrick rubs his thumbs into your palms, trying to soothe the ache as Art scrambles to find some way to clean you up. Sweet boys, even if they try to deny it.

“So which one of us—“ Patrick begins, before Art throws the towel he used to clean you up in his face. His expression twists in annoyance, but he knows better than to ask again. He’s fine keeping it a tie… for the time being, that is.

[gamblersdoll]

hi hun! Love ya work and everything bout it 😼😼 deserve more recognition fr I’m not too sure bout your rules for asks so feel free to deny but but but it’s rotting at my brain and I need it satisfied 😞 but reader being a brat and bakugo going to punish her at home but then she falls sick and it turns into domestic bakugo taking care of reader mhm? I’m so sick rn and I want domestic but I also want like Ughughugh idk babe do what you want with it just brain worms LOL

implied smut, fluff, comfort, domestic katsuki !

ping!

the notification goes instantly to his phone, you putting your phone down and laying against the mattress the both of you shared. your phone immediately goes off, taking a peak and its just him rambling to himself practically..

‘im going to fuck you up.’

‘keep playin with me at work and im going to play in your pussy next.’

you smile to the phone, but your stomach somewhat churns for whatever reason. you probably have another stomach bug, being prone to stomach issues and back issues. you reply really quickly, tossing your phone and groaning into the pillow in the fetal position.

it doesnt take long for him to get home, however. he busting through the room and seeing you curled up, he thinks your ready for him to take you like he did last weekend.. but something’s off, your skin is greenish and clammy. “hey.. you good? the matter?”

“dont feel good.” you mumble, hands clutch your stomach and moan. “sorry.. i know you were excited about fucking—“

“hoe, shut up.” he grunts, scooping you up and taking you to the bathroom. “where does it hurt?” he asks, watching you lift your shirt and he feels around. “here?” he asks, rubbing your neck and kissing your cheek. “sounds like you got another stomach virus.”

“yeah.. you dont have to be around—“

“didnt i just tell you to hush it?” he asks, flicking your head and starting a bath. the waters’ cool, him slowly settling you inside. “sit here for a sec, relax and ill fix some food.” he mumbles, talking about hes calling for the next week.

“you dont have to..” you mumble watching him untie his boots.

“i do, because i know im going to get sick and its for sickness and in health, stupid.” he replied, glaring at you. “you do know that i love you, right?”

you nod, feeling some what better.

eventually, he has you take some herbal tea and put you on the bed. “just rest, youll be okay— and we’ll figure it out.”

“are you mad that we cant fuck..?”

“have you or have you not been dating me for four years?” he asks like you had six heads, putting a hand on your stomach. “no im not mad, yes i still love you, no i wont hold it against you, no im not mad i got to miss work, yes i will stay with you.”

note taken.

[strwberri-milk]

hi! I love ur works they're all so sweet☹️ i was wondering if i could maybe request the l&ds men with a reader who has a constant tummy ache😔 i wake up, tummy ache, on my period, tummy ache, i try to sleep, tummy ache. it's a constant pain💔💔

anyways thank you so much and have a wonderful day🩷🩷🩷

lowkey stomachaches are so uncomfortable :(( same w headaches for me i say as though thats not the whole reason why theyre called aches

Zayne is immediately on you to try and figure out if there's something else going on that is leading to the fact that you have chronic stomachaches. His brain doesn't really turn off when it comes to doing things for your health so he can't really help but try to solve you problem.

Regardless, he's very good at giving you things to soothe your stomach, figuring out what sorts of things he can give you to help settle it. If you just want his presence, you got it but not without also drinking something or eating something easy to digest to make sure you at least get some nutrients that also help you feel better.

Xavier strikes me as the kind of person who doesn't really suffer from aches and pains or if he does he just totally ignores them so he's not sure what to do. He'll ask if you want medicine or some sort of tea he heard helps settle an upset stomach. He'll ask periodically if you're feeling better and tends to get you foods that he knows you can stomach because he doesn't want to accidentally make things worth.

Rafayel will practically be holding you even more than usual, palm over your stomach as he lightly uses his evol to act as a heating pad. He'll also massage your stomach absentmindedly, paying attention to your reactions to ensure that he doesn't accidentally make things too warm, or too rough. He'll also learn how to cook better meals for you if needed, wanting to feed you and shower you with attention to help you feel better.

Sylus also keeps his hand over your stomach, cooing at you gently whenever it gets really bad and asking what things you want. He'll spoil you with attention and treats - literally anything you want, he has it but amplified to 10 because he hates knowing that you're hurting and he can't do anything about it. He'll check in on you often, asking if you're feeling better or if there's anything else he could do to besides dote on you.

[dwarf-vader-of-middle-earth]

Woah. Holy shit. Thank you for translating this, sincerely, and I just... wow.

Especially in terms of education and health, these are incredible conditions in literally every single aspect.

In the USA, if your child is struggling in school and needs to have a teacher's aide, or if they need to be in SPED (special education) courses to accommodate their disability, or if they just need any educational accommodation whatsoever, the child cannot request these. The parents need to approve it for them, to the school, and that is final. That is law. The child can't do anything but grovel and beg for help with the decision of adults taken into account and the child's being entirely meaningless.

You know what happens then?

"Oh, my child doesn't need this help!! Wait, why is my child failing every course? They're stupid and need to do better. Oh, now my child claims they're depressed because I keep calling them stupid, but they just have to try harder. Crap now my child is dead by their own hand and they blamed it on me before they died."

I've seen this shit happen constantly.

My own friends were put on suicide watch lists because of these sorts of issues.

I myself endured this shit growing up. I wanted to be in SPED math courses because it was far too difficult to manage the regular math without any help at all. My parents refused to admit I needed any help, but neither understood the math I was doing and therefore couldn't help me, and you know what happened? I failed years of math, my parents kept telling me I wasn't trying hard enough, and every day until I graduated I legitimately just wanted to die because by law I was not allowed to stop attending school, and I wasn't receiving the help I needed in order to succeed. My teachers taught classes of over 20 students each, and one teacher to 20 students who spends the entire hour and a half lecturing us can't spend the whole day with me alone trying to teach me concepts I can't grasp.

With health it's just as bad.

I've met kids who go to black market sources to get their medications and medical care because their parents won't allow it for religious reasons. 16 year olds who told me that because they are Jehovas Witness they can't take anything or get vaccines, and so they buy their prescriptions from overseas and have them discreetly sent to them, then they hide the medications.

I've had friends who the moment their parents found said medications, they dumped them into the toilet and disposed of them so their child couldn't take them, claiming those meds aren't necessary when they absolutely are.

Heart medications, muscle medicine, mental health meds, steroids for organ transplants.

And the child can't request refills because by law you must be 18 or older to advocate for medical things, or anything at all.

There is a reason the USA sets us up for failure, and this is it. When you're a kid you grow up powerless in legitimately every conceivable way, and the moment you're 18 you're told to just advocate for yourself suddenly.

No one tells you how. They just say to do it. Make your own phone calls for things, go get this accommodation, ask for that thing on your own.

They don't teach you what to say, how to ask for that, how to handle... any advocacy. Nobody is aware of the resources they have or how to find them. You're legitimately thrust into the world of adulthood with the knowledge that everything is suddenly your responsibility and good fucking luck with the rest!

That is why USA adulthood is so stressful because we did not have a voice as children and we did not have help as children, and now we are adults expected to take the full brunt of everything all at once without any practice, assistance, help, or preparation.

And that is unacceptable.

I wish the USA had Rights of the Child. In every regard I wish we would fucking implement this.

Because no child deserves to suffer in total silence with their issues ignored by the parents who are the end all be all of their advocacy.

I cant believe this tweet is how I find out

[janeyseymour]

I Hate You, I Love You- part 3

Summary: you spend the early hours of Christmas Eve preparing dinner with your family and Melissa.

WC: ~2.8k

“Come in, come in!” your mother greets you. She pulls you in for a tight hug.

“You saw me at the beginning of this month, Mom,” you roll your eyes.

Then she moves onto Melissa, who has rolled both of your suitcases in. You see the redhead stiffen just slightly before relaxing and patting your mom’s back.

“You must be Melissa!”

Where you expect your tough coworker to reply with sass, she smiles warmly- that smile that she reserves for Barbara and, on the rare occasion, Janine. “It’s so great to finally meet you, Nora.” Then she turns to your aunt. “You must be Aunt Jo.”

Jo’s face brightens considerably, and you didn’t think that was possible. You can practically feel the excitement radiating off of her.

Then your father is standing from his chair and outstretching a hand. “Al,” is all he says, but the smile on his face tells you that he’s just as excited as the other two. He’s just better at concealing it.

“Melissa,” your ‘girlfriend’ shakes your father’s hand firmly. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.” At least that isn’t a lie- the two of you had gone over family history on the car ride over.

“Wish I could say the same about you,” your dad huffs as he looks to you. “Our girl didn’t even tell us you existed until a few weeks ago when she came over for dinner.”

“It just never came up!” you protest as you interlace your fingers with the redhead again. “Come on, we don’t have time to interrogate my girlfriend. We have to put our stuff away upstairs.”

The three adults relent, but your mother tells you, “Be quick! We have a lot of things to make!”

You go to grab your bag from next to Melissa, but her hand is on your suitcase handle before you can stop her. “I got it, hun.” She winks at you before gesturing for you to lead the way.

“Thanks, babe,” you reply, and you hope it sounds convincing. “Come on, my room is the attic, so…”

The redhead follows you up the steps, lugging your bags behind her. As soon as the door is closed behind the two of you, you scowl.

“Way to lay it on thick,” you hiss.

“I’m trying to be convincing! Do you want me to blow it for you before we even get through Christmas Eve?”

You huff. “No.”

“Then let me do my thing. You told me how you act in a relationship, and I took acting classes when I was younger. I can do this if you can.”

“Fine. I sleep on the left side of the bed.”

“Of course you do,” the redhead laughs. “I sleep on the right. It’s almost like we were made for this.”

“Shut up.”

“Just remember you love me,” Melissa teases you as she sets your things on your side of the room.

“I absolutely do not,” you roll your eyes. “C’mon. We have to go downstairs before my mom comes up here and yells at us for not coming to help her. And I need a glass of wine.”

“It’s eleven in the morning,” your colleague says, and there’s only a hint of judgement in her voice.

“And when you see the amount of work she’s going to give us, on top of having to pretend I love you, I’m going to need all the booze I can get.”

Melissa takes your hand gently in her own before leading you down the steps. You take a seat at the counter, and the redhead immediately makes her way over to the cabinets. She gives you a questioning look, and you point to the one that has the wine glasses in it. She grabs two before walking over to the refrigerator and pouring out a glass of your favorite wine and one for herself- one that your parents always keep for you when you’re here. She saunters over to you with a smile and offers the poured glass to you. You take it from her with a kiss to the cheek, and then she’s standing behind you with an arm draped around your shoulder.

“So, Y/N told me it’s always a cooking extravaganza, and I hate to brag, but I’m a great cook,” Melissa chuckles as she takes a small sip from her own glass.

Your mother immediately gives the two of you direction in terms of what you’re in charge of, and the redhead is all grins. “That sounds easy enough.”

“Mom, that’s way more than you usually give me.”

“Well, there’s two of you now,” your mother shrugs.

You roll your eyes. “This is a ridiculous amount of-”

“I can do it, babe,” Melissa cuts in. “You know how I usually cook anyway, and this ain’t nothin. Just sit there and look pretty for me, yeah?”

You look to her, and damn is she a good actress. For as rough and as tough as she is, she can really be warm- or at least fake warmth.

“I can help,” you sigh.

Making portions of the meal starts out incredibly stilted and awkward, but as time goes on and the alcohol is flowing through your blood, you actually find yourself enjoying being in Melissa’s presence. She’s a great cook. She’s a great teacher when there are a few things that you’re a little confused about in terms of preparing the food.

As you’re mashing the potatoes, her arms find their way around your waist, and her chin rests gently on your shoulder. She kisses your cheek softly, and you can’t help the blush that tints your cheeks. It’s all for appearances, at least in front of your parents and aunt- that’s what you tell yourself. You have no idea that this is how Melissa has wanted to be with you for a while now.

Unbeknownst to you, Aunt Jo takes your picture, the two of you looking incredibly in love despite the fact that you hate the redhead with you. It almost makes you hate her more now that you know she isn’t the hard ass she always plays- she can be incredibly soft and warm. 

When you’ve finished mashing the potatoes, you excuse yourself to go to the restroom- you need a bit of space. Having the redhead pressed up against you and kissing your cheek and the nape of your neck has you more bothered than you had expecting. You splash a few droplets of water on your face. 

Melissa moves onto begin making the last batch of cookies needed for tonight’s meal. But when she goes to reach for the nutmeg, she can’t find any. She grabs her purse and lets your father know she’s heading to the store, asking if they need anything else while she’s out. Your father shakes his head no.

“Hun?” your colleague calls up the steps. “I’m heading to the store for a few last minute items. Are you coming with me, or am I going by myself?”

You sigh. You like this warm side of Melissa, but you know as soon as the two of you are out of the house, it won’t be like that anymore. “I’ll stay here and help Mom.”

“Sounds good,” she yells back. “I’ll be back soon. I love you!”

You return the sentiment, but only because you know Aunt Jo had come upstairs to change from her sweatshirt to a tee. And then Melissa is off.

When you return back down the steps, Melissa has taken your car- you hope she doesn’t crash it just to spite you. Your father groans.

“What, Dad?”

“I’m an idiot. I told Melissa we didn’t need nothin’, but it turns out we need stuff to make the Christmas sangria.”

“I’ll text her.” 

You do, and she just gives the message a thumbs up in return. You go back to your station in the kitchen and continue on preparing. Unfortunately for you, Melissa calls as you’re in the middle of glazing the ham, and you can’t answer.

“Would you mind getting that, Aunt Jo?”

Your aunt does, but her brows furrow as she looks at the contact name that pops up. It only reads ‘Schemmenti’.

“It’s your girlfriend.” She answers the phone and places the cell between your cheek and shoulder. You’re able to hold it there. "Although I’m confused why you only have her in your phone with just her last name… no silly nickname, no heart? There isn’t even a picture of the two of you together?”

“Just haven’t had time,” you sigh. Damn. You should’ve thought about that. “I’m in her phone as Y/N, and that’s it.” You hope your fake girlfriend can hear the bite in your voice to tell her that you may have just been caught.

“Babe, you haven’t changed my name in your phone yet?” Melissa chuckles out. “I’m wounded.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you roll your eyes. “I’ll change it when we get off the phone. What’s up; what do you need?”

“There’s a shit ton of cranberries,” the redhead tells you. “Is there a particular brand you and your family prefer?”

You walk her through the preferred brands of everything on the list your dad gave you, and then she’s checking out.

She’s very aware that your entire family is still in the room with you, and if they can hear her, she wants to stay convincing. “Okay, thank you for your help hun. I’ll be back home in a few minutes.”

“Sounds good,” you mutter. “Don’t crash my car.”

“I wouldn’t,” the redhead chuckles, although she knows you’re being quite serious. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Bye,” you sigh, and then you let your aunt take the phone back. She’s frowning at you though. “What?”

“No ‘I love you’?”

You look to your aunt, somewhat annoyed. “She’s literally five minutes away, and we said it when she left earlier.”

Jo just gives you a look before returning back to her own place in the kitchen.

Melissa enters about ten minutes later, and she comes in with a few bags in her hands. “Hey babe.”

“Thank you for going out,” you kiss her cheek. “You’re the best.”

Melissa just smirks. “I know.” She turns your head gently and plants a short, sweet kiss on your lips. “Make the cookies with me?”

You’re in a daze for a second. Your colleague is a… really good kisser. 

“Honey?” she prompts.

Your cheeks tint red. “Uh, yeah. I’m gonna grab another glass of wine. You want one?”

“I would love that,” Melissa smiles.

You grab her empty glass of wine and fill it with a blush. When you make your way over, you have to resist the urge to kiss her again. “Here you go, Lis.”

Your ‘girlfriend’ lifts a brow at the spur of the moment nickname, but she smiles at you regardless. “Lis,” she mumbles as she pulls you in so close you can feel her breath on your neck.

You pick up your phone with a smile and pull up her contact. Her name in your phone goes from ‘Schemmenti’ to ‘Lis’, adorned with a red heart.

Her hand goes to her back pocket with a smile before pulling out her own phone and changing your contact name from just your last name, to a nickname for your first. You just give her a smile before turning your attention to the cookies that need baking.

Before you know it, your parents’ house smells delicious, and you’re just a little tipsy. Your cheeks have a glow that just won’t quit, and Melissa’s hands are all over you. She makes sure to throw in a few ‘I love you’s here and there, along with quite a few kisses dotted along your temple and hairline, cheek, lips, and she dares to press on to the nape of your neck as you roll out the dough for the sugar cookies. You can’t help the delightfully tipsy giggle that you let out.

The cookies end up in the oven, the two of you begin to toss in the ingredients for your family’s sangria, and then you’re asking Aunt Jo for a time check.

She taps your phone that’s sitting out on the counter, and she purses her lips.

“Is it getting too late?” you ask, a pout on your face.

She shakes her head. “It’s only about three, and you know the family doesn’t start trickling their way in until five, but where’s the cute picture of the two of you as your lock screen?”

Melissa just chuckles that easy laugh that you find yourself beginning to enjoy more and more. It’s the laugh that you only hear her elicit when she’s in the presence of Barbara Howard. “Because our coworkers don’t know,” she reminds Jo.

“Well, are you around them right now?” Aunt Jo challenges. Then her eyes light up. “I took an adorable photo of the two of you while you were making the potatoes. Give me a second.”

About a minute later, an image appears on your phone, and at one glance, you can see how anybody would genuinely think that the two of you are in love. It’s… it’s a really sweet picture. Melissa’s arms are around you, and while your hands are working on the food in front of you, the look in your eyes is one of pure happiness- at least that’s what it looks like. And the way that your coworker is looking at you? You haven’t seen that look from somebody in a long time.

With a roll of your eyes, you change your background to that picture, as does your grade partner.

“That’s better, huh?” Melissa pecks your lips again.

You give her a smirk. “Sure, hun. C’mon. We should go upstairs to start getting ready for dinner.”

“I’ll be up in a minute,” she promises. “You want another glass of wine?”

“Maybe some sangria,” you shrug as you . “Have to make sure it tastes good.”

She gives you a nod, and her eyes linger on your body as you head out of the kitchen and up the steps to your room.

Melissa enters a few minutes later as you’re in the midst of changing. She sets your drink on your nightstand before looking to you.

Immediately, you blush. You’re standing there without pants on. “Jesus, Melissa. Don’t you knock?”

She shrugs, and her eyes rake up and down your body.

“Oh, quit it,” you roll your eyes. “We aren’t in front of them anymore, so you don’t have to keep pretending you’re in love with me. I do have to say though, you’re quite the actress. You’re good at this.”

“Wait ’til you see what else I’m good at.” She winks at you before making her way over to her own suitcase.

“I still hate you.”

“I know,” is all the redhead sighs. She won’t say she hates you back, because she doesn’t. She never has.

“I can’t wait for this weekend to be over,” you tell her outwardly as you pull your slacks on.

Internally though, there’s something about this weekend that feels easy; it feels almost natural. Melissa has this warm, soft side to her that you don’t hate. You actually quite like it. You can almost see why Barbara has taken quite a shining to- no. Melissa Schemmenti is still the same stuck-up bitch you work with, and she’s doing this for the money.

You spend a bit of time on your makeup before turning to her. She’s sitting on the bed scrolling through her phone, glasses on the tip of her nose. When you clear your throat she looks up to you, and her jaw opens just slightly.

“What?”

She’s at a loss for words. It takes a few seconds for her mind to catch up to her body. “You look nice. Clean up well.”

“Save it for when we’re downstairs,” you sneer out. You gesture for her to go in front of you, and when she does, you can’t help but notice the way this sweater that she’s chosen hugs her in all the right places, and her pants only make her curves stand out more.

Before the two of you make your way down the steps fully, she laces your fingers together with ease. You can’t deny the way that her hand fits into your own almost perfectly. She smiles at you, one of those real, genuine smiles that almost has you melting.

“You ready?”

“Are you?”

“Of course I am,” Melissa smirks at you, and then she licks her lips subconsciously as she gets a good look at your face.

“Let’s get this over with.”

TAGS (and lmk if you wanna be added): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch

[inkoutsidethelines]

Ah, I see. You and I have different ideas of what counts as canon, so we're never really going to agree on this topic. I consider canon whatever George Lucas said was canon - which means that Legends, later additions by Disney, and the opinions of some psychologists are all irrelevant to me.

Since we have such differing views of what's canon, I'll (try to) keep my response short, and then I'm going to let this go. No need for us to talk in circles.

This is patently false. His admission into the order was debated by the full council in front of him. That is extremely irregular.

Okay, yeah, that's on me for not being clear enough. I almost added the caveat that his admission to the Order at all was exceptional, but decided not to. That's on me, because you're right, allowing him to join at nine was treating him differently.

That being said, I still don't think he was treated all that different once he was in the Order. What we are shown of padawan training in The Clone Wars lines up with what we are shown (which is admittedly a small amount) of Anakin's training with Obi-Wan.

Well they certainly could have handled it better than they did! Maybe it wasn't their fault but it was their responsibility to help him learn to properly cope.

I would argue that the Jedi did teach Anakin how to cope. He understands their lessons about attachment and letting go; we know he does, because he passes those lessons on to Ahsoka during Clone Wars. He knows what they teach, but he doesn't put it into practice.

because the Jedi teach that once you fall theirs no going back, which is provably false but Anakin didn't know that.

That is not a Jedi teaching. Not in the movies, or in the Clone Wars. Maybe there's some other source that says they taught that, but if so, we once again run into the problem of differing canons.

But he also wasn't in his right mind.

I'm not really going to dig into this one, because I simply disagree with the idea of Anakin having BPD being canon, so we aren't going to get anywhere on that.

His mental health was their responsibility and they didn't just drop the ball, they threw it.

And here we are also going to disagree. Yes, the Jedi are responsible for his mental health while he's a child. And they gave him the tools to get well. They were being undermined at every step by Palpatine, but the Jedi didn't know that, and they can't be held responsible for what they didn't know.

And at some point, Anakin becomes fully responsible for his own mental health, and his own choices. If he had every really asked for help, I think he would have gotten it. But he repeatedly doesn't ask for help.

He tells Obi-Wan he's dreaming of his mother, but not that he's dreaming about her being tortured to death. The advice Obi-Wan gives him makes sense with what Obi-Wan knows.

Anakin doesn't tell anyone - except Padme, who brushes it under the rug for him - that he massacred a tribe of Tuskan Raiders. Man, woman, and child.

He tells Yoda he's worried about the death of someone he cares about, won't tell Yoda who, and they're in the middle of a war. Given what Yoda knows, the advice he gives Anakin makes sense. And also Yoda wasn't wrong. I mean, maybe she would have died some other way if Anakin hadn't fallen, who knows. But Anakin choosing to go Dark Side directly lead to her dying exactly the way he saw in his vision (whether or not her cause of death was specifically Palpatine siphoning off her life force to save Anakin).

The Jedi do the best they can with what they know, but they simply don't know everything the audience does. That's not a flaw in the Jedi. And at the end of the day, I believe the only person responsible for Anakin's choices is Anakin himself.

"no attachments" in SW literally just means "don't be selfish and possessive". that's it. that's all there is. doesn't mean jedi can't have friends and loved ones. they can. just. don't be possessive and selfish about it. don't murder thousands of people in an effort to save one.

[strawberryblondebutch]

If you are a visibly disenfranchised person in America (by race, gender, sexuality, physical ability, or any other definition) and are worried about violence carried out in the name of sycophants, I would strongly recommend arming yourselves.

Brass knuckles are not illegal at the federal level, although many states have their own laws. They work in two directions: the brass rings increase the injury you do onto someone else, while the palm grip redistributes the kickback so that you're less likely to break your own fingers. Kevlar gauntlets, like the ones I wear for motorcycling, help with the latter more than the former.

Switchblades are becoming increasingly legal on the state level thanks in large part to an EMT lobby -- carrying a collapsible blade is helpful when your job involves cutting people out of their seatbelts in vehicle collisions. They come in two types: side-loading and out-the-front. OTF is triggered faster in an emergency.

In both cases, remember that most things are only illegal if you get caught. The issue comes in states where the sale of brass knuckles or switchblades are illegal, which makes them harder to acquire. If you can find a way to send a care package via a reputable courier, you should have no problem transporting across state lines. (My OTF blade came to PA nestled between a pair of sneakers.)

Handguns are easy to purchase in just about any state. Check your state laws to see whether you need a permit and/or to register your firearm to conduct a sale, but unless you're a convicted felon, the process is fairly straightforward. Always hold a handgun with both hands and practice at the range until you're confident in your aim and your stance.

Long guns are not going to be particularly useful on the street. You're unlikely to get the distance from your target to maintain your accuracy. They're more useful for standing your ground on your own property.

Bows are my favorite weapon to handle, but I would not recommend them for protection. It takes years of practice to fire them accurately, and you need space both to draw back the string to your ear and to fire at a distance. Arrows need a certain amount of momentum behind them, snap shots don't really work. Entry-level bows are cheaper than entry-level guns and that's the only edge I will give them.

General advice:

Put spikes anywhere you don't want people grabbing. Wrists and shoulders are the most obvious places. Punks don't just wear them for decoration!

Slip-resistant boots help you hold your ground in a tussle, and most come with an additional benefit like a steel toe or impact-resistant material.

When aiming with brass knuckles or bare fists, aim for the nose and the cheekbone. Both break easily and cause a shockwave of immediate pain that will make your attacker retreat.

Aim for center mass when possible with any type of puncturing weapon. It's the biggest target with the most important organs.

If you are put in a headlock, the thigh has both sensitive nerves and the femoral artery, and it's probably the most available target to you.

Strangling someone might seem like the nicer option, but it's the most dangerous for you. You need at least 10 seconds to strangle to the point of unconsciousness, during which your hands are both occupied and you can't defend yourself as well. Always go for an immediate, painful injury that will disrupt your attacker's attention.

Any protection - body armor or weaponry - is better than no protection. My motorcycle armor was designed to keep me from breaking every bone in my body in a crash, but the way it redistributes bludgeoning force also helps against baseball bats and batons.

Most people are not as prepared to receive physical violence as they are to dole it out.

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Birds of a Feather

Pairing: childhood best friend!soap x f!reader

Warnings: bullying, nothing else

Words: 2k

Synopsis: Having moved to a new home, you meet your best friend in kindergarten...

Cbf!soap masterlist (rewrite)

Your life sucked right now. 

It started months ago when your mother told you that you would have to leave your house behind. You didn’t like it, especially when you had to pack away all of your things and say goodbye to your friend, and when you tried to have your parents explain why you just couldn’t understand why you had to leave everything behind for something like a job.

You didn’t want to leave your only friend behind, you didn’t want to go to a new school. 

It wasn’t fair.

You didn’t know how it was going to be, how the other kids your age would act or accept you. If they were like your old classmates you weren’t sure if you’d be able to make friends with any of them, you were worried they wouldn’t want to play with you and you’d just be alone.

It was your first day and you felt nauseous. 

You wanted to beg your mom to let you stay home because you were sure you’d throw up. You didn't want that to happen and you hoped that maybe if you told her that she’d let you stay home for the day. 

You tried to but before you could even start your sentence, your mom gave you a look and that was the end of it. There was only one thing you could do to make yourself feel better, so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

You held your stuffie, a cute brown bunny with floppy ears and beady black eyes, on your way out the door of your new house. It was your prized possession that you slept with every night since you could remember that never left your side. 

“Are you sure you want to bring your bunny with you, sweetheart?” Your mom asked you when she noticed you carrying it. “It might get lost.”

“I don’t want to go without it!” You pleaded.

She didn’t say anything else as she helped you into the car. You practically choked your stuffie on the drive to your new elementary school and crushed your mother’s hand when she walked you inside. 

It was much smaller than your old school and no other kids were roaming in the halls but that didn’t stop the anxiety you felt as you stared at the doors that led into many classrooms.

The principal greeted you both and you found it hard not to hide behind your mother’s legs when she offered to take your hand.

“Oh, no need to be shy!” She gave you a big smile. “Be a brave lass, you’ll be fine.”

You looked from your mom to the principal. You didn’t move, even as she gave you an expectant look. Your feet felt like they were full of lead and the idea of moving forward made you feel like crying. 

Your mother gently pushed you and you had no choice but to take the principal's hand. You barely got to say goodbye before you were being led down the hallways towards your new classroom.

You clutched your bunny tightly and the principal smiled.

“We don’t usually allow students to keep their personal items with them but I’ll make an exception for today.” She explained and you hesitantly nodded. 

The door to the classroom got closer and closer. You gripped the principal’s hand tightly as it really set in that you were going to have to make new friends and that you were going to be the new kid.

The principal opened the door to the classroom and suddenly all eyes were on you. 

You squeezed her hand as you stood in the front of the classroom. The silence from your classmates made the staring worse and you hugged your bunny close to you as you stared back like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Everyone, this is our new student I told you about.” The principal announced with a smile. “She came a long way to come here, so let’s make her feel welcome.”

She let go of your hand with a reassuring pat before she left the classroom. 

The teacher walked up to you with a similar smile and introduced you. All the while your eyes scanned the many new faces that stared at you with a sort of curiosity that animals faced inside a zoo.

A particular boy in the back, you noticed, leaned across the table and stood on his chair to see you over the heads of his classmates. You watched him strain to see you and you instinctively moved to hide behind the teacher’s legs.

“I’ll seat you next to John for now,” the teacher said. “We’re finishing up an activity and then we’ll go outside.”

The stares didn’t stop as she led you to the back of the class towards the boy who had been standing on his chair. Slowly, however, as she took your bag and set you down next to the boy they went back to whatever they were doing while still sparing a couple glances in your direction.

You sat awkwardly in your chair and hugged your bunny close.

“What’s that?” John asked and you glanced at him to see he was pointing towards your stuffie.

“My bunny.” You held it closer to your chest as he looked at it closer.

“Why do you have it?”

“It makes me feel safe.”

John titled his head curiously before he locked eyes with you. His eyes were a bright blue that you had never seen before which made you stare at him with uncertainty before he grinned.

“I’m Johnny.”

You introduced yourself as well and then suddenly it seemed like he spoke a mile a minute. You had trouble understanding a few of the things he spoke about because of his accent but you began to feel less on edge the more you listened to him. 

Before long, the teacher was calling for everyone to go outside and you followed close behind Johnny as he continued to talk about anything and everything. 

You couldn’t help but feel close to him. He didn’t act like you were some alien and he was happy to invite you to play with him during recess.

However, when you reached the blacktop, someone tugged on your shirt and you turned around to see a group of girls. 

“Hi, I’m Holly.” 

You introduced yourself and watched as the other girls looked at you with that strange curiosity everyone seemed to have behind Holly. She herself stared at you with a gleam in her eye as she smiled.

“Do you want to play with us?” Holly wondered and that was when you noticed that they had dolls with them.

You looked to where the other kids had gone and searched for Johnny. However, he had disappeared and you weren’t sure where to find him.

Besides, in your mind you thought it wouldn’t hurt to make more friends, especially with how friendly Johnny had been.

“Sure!”

You’re not really sure what happened next. One moment you were following Holly and her friends around, playing with your bunny and their dolls, the next you found that she had taken your bunny from you.

You kneeled in the grass and fidgeted with your fingers as you watched them turn away from you. You looked at all of them nervously as they played with your bunny in their game, making it the bad guy which formed a pit in your stomach.

“Can I have my bunny back?” You asked but they seemingly ignored you. “I don’t like this game…”

When they didn’t say anything you frowned and poked Holy on the shoulder.

Holly glanced back at you with a quizzical look with a hint of annoyance that made you nervously play with your hands.

“Can I have my bunny back?” You repeated and she shared a look with her friends.

“We’re not done playing.” 

“But it’s mine.”

Holly stood up and her friends stood up with your bunny in her arms. They began to walk away from you and you quickly went to grab your stuffie from her before she moved it out of the way with a glare.

“You can have it back when we’re done.”

You watched as they moved further away from you in shock. You balled your fists and felt a rush of anxiety and anger through you as you stomped your foot.

“I’m telling the teacher!” You exclaimed and they stopped.

“If you tell the teacher, then you’re a tattle-tale.” Holly spat. “And no one likes a tattle-tale, no one will be your friend.”

Your eyes widened and she led her friends away from you.

You stood there unsure of what to do as it felt like the world crashed around you. You didn’t want to tell the teacher because you wanted your classmates to like you but you couldn't be without your bunny, not when it was the only reason you were able to even make it to school today.

It was the only thing that helped you sleep and the only thing that consistently brought you comfort.

What if she didn’t give it back? What if you’d never see it again?

You didn’t know what to do, so you began to cry.

Tears rolled down your cheeks and down to your chin before they began to stain your shirt. You held onto the hem as you shook, quiet sobs leaving you as you struggled to breathe. You weren’t sure if you’d ever stop crying, even when recess was over, which only made you cry more.

That was when you felt something tap your foot and you noticed a small ball that Johnny was chasing. 

He had a smile on his face as he came up to you before it slowly faded away when he saw that you were crying. He titled his head and came up close to you before he placed a hand on your upper back.

“Why are you crying?”

“I don’t want to be a tattle-tale.” 

He looked at you with confusion before he shrugged.

“I won’t tell.” 

You looked at him with suspicion and blinked a few tears away to see his face. However, all you saw was sincerity as he waited for you to say something and suddenly you knew that you could trust Johnny with anything.

“They took my bunny and won’t give it back.” You pointed at Holly and her friends as more tears began to fall.

Johnny followed your finger and when his eyes landed on them his face went serious. He stared at them for just a moment before he scowled and grabbed your wrist with a firm hold.

Your eyes widened as he marched forward with you in tow. You didn’t try to pull away from him however as he brought you up to the girl and let go of you before he went up to Holly.

“Johnny, play with us!” She smiled before he yanked the bunny out of her hands.

“Ye dinnae take things that aren’t yours, ya daft cow!” 

You gasped, as did the other girls, before Johnny turned around to you with a toothy grin as he held your bunny like a prize he had won. You stared at him as he held it out for you to take with a twinkle in his eyes while Holly began to wail behind him.

“Thank you…” You sniffled as you took it back and hugged it close to you. You couldn’t help the warmth that spread across your face as you stared at him with awe.

“You’re welcome! Me mam told me to always help others-”

“John MacTavish, I can’t believe what I am seeing!”

You and him jumped from the loud yelling that came from the teacher. Immediately all eyes went on her as she raced up to Johnny whose face went beet red.

You’re not really sure what happened after the teacher dragged him away to the principal's office, asking another teacher to bring you, Holly, and her friends along too, but you didn’t really care.

All you knew was that Johnny was going to be your friend for a very long time. 

part 2

A/n: meant to get this out earlier. hopefully will be able to get more of it rewritten. Also! lmk if you want to be put on the taglist for this

[twilightkitkat]

Thinking of a poolverine time travel au where Wade and Logan go back in time all the way to Origins but only Wade remembers.

Cue Wade annoying the fuck out of a younger version of Logan and slowly managing to worm his way into his heart. Wade insists on accompanying Logan everywhere and is an irritating but oddly useful thorn in Logan's side. It's like he knows Logan with how in sync he is with his thoughts and actions, moving like he has practice working alongside him. His talking fills up the silence and gives Logan a companionship he didn't know he could have, not when his only real point of human contact for centuries was Victor.

It's... nice to be around someone who isn't a psychopath. Wade is insane, sure, but he doesn't belittle Logan for having emotions or "weakness." Logan appears tough on the outside, but killing civilians eats him up on the inside. And so when he's drunk he breaks down. Wade holds him in his arms as he sobs and comforts him, and it's more than Logan ever had before. They grow closer after that.

Then one day, Logan decides to finally leave. He throws down his dog tags and turns away, pissed off and vindictive but also scared because he's leaving behind everything he knew. War, violence, and his brother. Until someone taps on his shoulder and he whips around ready to tear them apart only to see Wade, grinning awkwardly, who says he'll go with him and hands him his own dog tags.

Logan nearly breaks down. He hugs Wade so tightly that he damn near crushes him, holding onto the only person he has left. The relief is so overwhelming that it's hard to stop himself from collapsing.

They manage to escape together, with the help of Wade's negotiation and language skills. (Logan doesn't want to think about how hard it would have been to do this entirely by himself, stranded on an island where he couldn't even communicate.)

They flee to Canada together. Wade is prepared for Kayla Silverfox to marry Logan except... that doesn't happen. When she comes over and acts friendly with Wade, touching his arm and giggling, Logan looks at her with such disdain it's like she's a pest intruding on his territory. When she turns to Logan, flirty but shy, he brushes her off easily and marches away with Wade in tow. They don't end up marrying.

Logan and Wade live together in domestic bliss for a few years. They both work in construction, Logan as a lumberjack and Wade as a builder. The night after their encounter with Kayla, they'd gotten together. Logan, fueled by pent-up jealousy and possessiveness, finally reached out to grab Wade and yank him into a searing kiss. He'd looked wild and uncertain, confused by his own feelings, until Wade cradled his face and kissed him back. And Logan melted against him.

It's like all was right with the world. Except... Wade knows how the story goes. He knows that this story doesn't have a happy ending. He knows that Victor will return and that the odds are stacked against him. He doesn't even have his mutation right now, let alone a way to defeat Stryker on his own.

And so he starts planning. He needs a plan that keeps the major plot points the same while creating a better ending. Logan needs to get his mutation, as painful as it was, and Stryker's island needs to be destroyed. But Wade couldn't let Logan live through the same heartbreak as last time. And he sure as hell wouldn't let himself die or become a fucked up trial experiment for the Weapon X program.

Wade will make sure that he and Logan make it out in one piece, even if he has to bend the fucking timeline until it nearly breaks. He has to. He won't accept any other outcomes.

Even if he has to fight the universe itself, Wade will make sure Logan gets a good ending.

(If you like this idea I expand on it a lot more in this post.)

[starswritingdorm]

“ you make me wanna make you fall in love! ”

synopsis: your three boyfriends just finished their practice and boy do they look fine right after playing..

- listen to Juno by Sabrina Carpenter for better experience -

cw(s): f!reader, poly, P in V, P in A, double penetration, oral sex (m!receiving), kisses, public sex (in the gym), (pink fuzzy) handcuffs, lmk if I missed any

───────── ⋆☆⋆ ─────────

sitting on the bench, I watched as the basketball team was practicing since they have a game against RSA if a few weeks, so every practice is needed. I watched as Ace passed the ball to Jamil then Jamil passing to Floyd which made the basket. I smiled seeing them work together for once. They always fought when passing the ball or trying to make a basket which results in Vargas to yell at them.

They finally found their own rhythm to work with each other and also keep their cool when one of the other doesn’t do what they planned right. After the whistle got blown, insinuating that practice was officially over.

“Great job, everyone! I’ll see all of you on Thursday at 3:40”

Vargas smiled before grabbing his things and leaving the gym. Right after he left, Floyd turned around before jogging over to me with a big smile on his face. “Shrimpy!! You came to watch us today!!” “I did! I finally had the time to” I smiled as floyd hugged me tightly, feeling his sweaty body against mine as floyd kissed my head. “Glad to hear you were free” Jamil came up to us as he had a smile on his face as he pushed some of my hair out of my face.

“Must’ve been hard to get grim off you” Ace said as he sat next to me, pulling me into a side hug as he smiled down at me. “Not really, I just gave him a lot of food and he passed out right after, so he’s just sleeping now” “shrimpy! Did you see how cool I was out there? Way better than these two” “huh!? I beg to differ! I was way better than you two” “all of you are wrong, I was obviously better”. Soon enough the three started to semi-argue about who was better. I couldn’t help but stare at them watching the sweat drip down their neck onto their chest, into their basketball jerseys.

As the three of them kept “arguing”, each of them would take their jersey and wipe their foreheads or neck, revealing each of their toned abs. “Y/N!” “I’m sorry? What?” “You airhead, I asked which one of us was better?” “Hey! Don’t call me an airhead! That’s not a nice way to talk to your girlfriend and besides I have a better way to settle this” “ehhh?? What is it Shrimpy? Better not be boring or I’ll get mad” “what do you have in mind, honey?” Jamil asked, giving me a questioning look.

“well, have you ever tried or considering this way?”

────── ⋆☆⋆

I felt myself letting out whimpers and moans as I felt Floyd thrust at a decent pace inside my hole. “Oh, fuck..!” I moaned as I gripped the bleacher seat. I was on my knees facing into the bleachers as I looked over to my side to see Ace and Jamil coming back from closing the gym door and soon went to my bag to look for a condom in my wallet.

“Eh? Look at this Jamil, I think our girl was planning this, not only did she have condoms in her bag but her pink fuzzy handcuffs we got her”

“My my, I didn’t know she was this horny, bringing stuff that’s for the bedroom only”

“She was begging for this I bet, she’s so needy”

Floyd chuckled after he said that, he had a huge smirk before leaning over to grab the fuzzy handcuffs and soon opening them as he puts one of the cuffs on his wrist and the other on the girl’s wrist so when he pulls his arm, she’s restrained a bit. “Shrimpy’s making a mess all over the bleachers, it’s everywhere” Floyd just chuckled more as he kept thrusting faster into her.

���Floyd, move, im going to be under her to take her pussy” Jamil smirked a bit before ripping the condom open. “Uh who said you’re taking her pussy?!” “Me, because I grabbed the last condom in her bag”. Jamil looked back over as Floyd pulled his arm that had the handcuffs which brought Y/N back with him, but not roughly, enough to make her pull with him. Jamil slide right under her before nodding that he was good. Floyd soon pushed Y/N back to her original position which had her toppled on Jamil.

Jamil bit his lip before sliding his cock into her pussy making her moan out loudly as she took her free hand and placed it on his shoulder to steady herself. “God she’s so fucking tight, I might just bust a but right now” Jamil soon bucked his hips before thrusting into her pussy at a decent pace. Y/N but her lip as she closed her eyes feeling herself get lost in the pleasure before feeling a hand grab her chin and make her look at them.

Ace smirked before he let go of her face and pulled his pants down, revealing his hard cock that sprung out of his pants. “Wanna help me out, baby?” “mmm yes..”. Y/N soon took Ace into her mouth as she sucked and bobbed her head lightly causing Ace to moan out softly. Ace ran a hand through his girl’s hair before tugging on it gently to mover her head at a fast pace.

“Also, Y/N, don’t think this is just it, baby, we’re all getting started, right guys?”

“You know it”

“Mhm..”

[ferg0s]

how writing about your favorite Blue Lock boy who can't deny how good his s/o looks in the Blue Lock spandex suit?

BAROU BAROU BAROU 🗣️🦅‼️ not so much s/o but trust me I have a vision…

I haven’t seen PNGlock season 2 😞 so mb for some inconsistencies

If you asked Ego which he liked better, woman’s soccer or men’s soccer, he would say which ever could win a gold medal. He was like a goblin, craving for the shiny smooth surface of a gold medal to glide across his fingers - and he would do whatever it would take to get it. When he had proposed the idea onto the board, they had laughed it off. But he didn’t understand why? Having a woman’s team meant that they had double the chance. More versatility. He didnt want to put his eggs in one basket. Besides he wanted Japan to be the best in the world - in every aspect of the sport.

Pink lock. That’s what the boys at Bluelock started to call the sister program. Even though it was literally just named blue lock. Thats until the practice match. Pink lock was started to look like pain lock the way they were making the boys run across the field. What the boys didn’t know was that the they had to fight harder, the threat of underperforming and having the whole program shut down was looming over them. An extra stress to add to the stress they already had of being kicked out. Their performances not only reflected them but everyone. Misogyny is the name of the blade that mercilessly cuts off the wings of angels.

Though there was one person that seemed to get on Barous nerve. Some girl who kept popping out of no where to block his shots, steal the ball and all in all make it impossible for him to have more then 3 seconds with the ball. He didn’t know her name, just the crazed look in her eyes as she would run past him. Number 67. Fuck her, he thought.

~

You didn’t know how tired you were until you got back to the dorms they had set up for you. The showers had a long line, and it seemed like everyone was taking Atleast a minimum of 30 minutes. The facility hadn’t given you the spandex suits they had given to the boys - the board said they didn’t have the Budget for it. Que another wingless angel. And it seemed like you wouldn’t get them for a while.

The practice test was more a presentation by ego to show the board to her more funding, which it had. After ego threatened to close the men program, the board rolled over and gave into his demands. But the official uniforms would have to wait. It took a while to make them with the same physicality monitoring sensors. Until then, you were stuck wearing frumpy soccer gear. The knee long shorts and over sized shirts. What you had assumed were the initial clothes for the men.

You seemed to pick up on the man who has been eyeing you with nothing but hatred pretty quickly. Having being divided into duos , of course you got stuck with him. It was temporary, ego said, to grow both players abilities, he said. While the other duos flirted and exchanged numbers, you and Barou did nothing but fight. The self proclaimed king didn’t like someone telling him what to do. Especially someone as annoying as you.

“-are you allergic to passing the fucking ball?” You ask as you walk up to him. “Not my fault you can’t keep up-“ he replied back. The other boys started to assume he didn’t swing that way based on how much the two of you fought, Barou seeming to resent the idea of even being on the same planet at you. But in reality, it was just two hard strong stubborn people clashing. Two unstoppable forces trying to merge into one, while also actively trying to avoid it.

You use the helm of your shirt to wipe the sweat off your forehead. It has been 20 minutes and you hadn’t even scored once against the hologram goalie. You look over at your partner, who was equally as tired as you. Both of you had been fighting for the ball rather than trying to figure out how to get past the goalie and score. You needed a minimum of 10 to leave and have dinner. And you were starving, and stuck at 0.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He asked, walking up to you. “The strategy is simple, hand me the ball and-“ “go fuck yourself princess-“ you spat back.

Barou didn’t need to come and taunt you after every missed goal. He didn’t need to walk up to you every time and stand way to close to when he was having another verbal altercation with you. But he couldnt help it. He liked the colour of your eyes :)

Yes. Barou had a crush.

On you.

Barou grew up with sisters so it wasn’t like he hasn’t been around women, but he still acted like it. His way of flirting with teasing and insulting, like an elementary school kid. As much as he bragged about being a womanizing bastard to the other guys in the locker room, he would rather eat cement than talk to a pretty girl alone. Which is why he figured insulting was a good alternative.

Even in the frumpy uniform, hair a mess and sweat covering your face, Barou saw you as someone akin to a model. You had a sort of fire in your eyes that drew him in, like a moth to a flame. Ego had made the duos based on compatible personalities, and you were just as stubborn, goal oriented and hot headed as him. If you had stuck around for longer instead of walking away in a huff to drink some water, you would notice how he seemed to zone out when you were yelling at him.

Out of everyone, you and Barou had the worst score. Leaving you one of the teams near the bottom.

It seemed to get worse when the spandex uniforms came. Landing the two of you at the bottom. He spent more time staring at you more than he did the ball. It should be a sin to look so good, he thought. His eyes would linger longer as you bent over to pick up the water bottle, drinking up the sight of you laying on the ground having from exhaustion. Or in the training room doing squats. It was entirely his fault that you two were at the bottom, which meant more verbal abuse from you. He tried his best to look into your eyes, wondering what specific colour they were on the colour wheel, hoping his years of discipline would stop his eyes from going down further.

It wasn’t until one day when you finally managed to score a point, in under 20 minutes with him, that you finally had a positive attitude towards him. In the midst of your joy, near tears for finally being able to cooperate enough to score 1 goal, you hugged him.

Shortly after that you somehow skyrocket to top 3. You didn’t know why he had Suddenly done a 180.

But Barou thanks who ever decided to put you in that stupid spandex uniform.

__________

kinda burnt out in the end 😞 Mbmb. Bit off more than I could chew

[lurkingshan]

Hi Shan

I've been watching your commentary on Peaceful Property with regard to its mishandling of its class conflict themes and I have to admit that I'm coming to agree with you on it.

I had to basically go "Welp, I can't see how they get out of the mess they've made now - I guess I just have to give them a pass on the grounds of found family?" in order to keep enjoying the show, which did let me do that but also left a bit of an icky taste in my mouth.

So I guess I wanted to ask - do you think there's a way they could have handled the wealth disparity and classism issues more gracefully within the show's narrative? And also whether there are any QLs you would recommend that do handle the topic to your satisfaction? I could use something good to watch!

Thanks for sharing your thoughts. I feel like you always make me consider topics more deeply and reflectively, even when I don't agree with you.

Hi, thanks for dropping in! I feel you on this, and I want to be clear that my criticism of the show is not criticism of people who still like it despite these failures. If you have still been able to connect to the friendship and family themes without this getting in the way, that's great and I'm glad for you. Just because the show is doing one thing very poorly doesn't mean there's nothing of value in it.

That said, you're right, they've passed the point of no return on their missteps with the class disparity themes. Early on in the show, after several episodes in a row of ghost stories involving poor or working class folks harmed by Home's wealthy real estate developer family on top of the class disparity between Home and Peach/Pang, I said I was confident that the show had something to say about this issue. And that was true! Unfortunately, what it had to say was garbage.

To your first question, I actually think it would have been very easy for the show to handle the wealth disparity and classism issues more gracefully, and that's a big part of my frustration. They had all the ingredients--a family history of exploitation, a ghost busting team including working class folks to shed light on the family's sins, and an ignorant grandson uncovering wrongdoing case by case and learning that there was always a price for his privilege. All the show needed to do was allow Home to come to some natural realizations about his family's treatment of others, via both the ghost case work and his relationship with Peach and Pang, and then use the power and resources he has to take accountability in the form of restitution and reparations to the people and communities they harmed. My ideal story line based on what they set up in the first half of the show would have had Home setting out to right his family's wrongs and take real steps to restore the communities they harmed. Even if a full on wealth redistribution narrative was too much to hope for, at the very least Home should have been made to reckon with what his family did and set out to do better in the future, both by Peach and Pang and by his family's countless victims (including Kan).

But that's not what we got. Instead, the narrative tried to sell us on the idea that none of this is anyone's fault, and that any harm that came to people at this family's hands was the result of a "curse" or one bad apple's wrongdoing. Instead of saying anything meaningful about systemic inequality and the responsibility of the wealthy and powerful to avoid extractive and exploitative practices, they painted Home's Gramps and family corporation as benevolent, concluding that they destroyed a bunch of people's lives by accident and without intent or even knowledge. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how utterly absurd and insulting that is. On top of all that, despite Home being the one with the most power in this little friend family and making some very serious mistakes that caused harm to the others, the show consistently centered him and his feelings in all conflicts, including Peach's near death and the death of Kan's father and destruction of her community. It also ignored the very real stakes it set up for Peach and Pang's dire financial situation whenever the plot demanded. The second half of the show became all about the poor people Home and his family have harmed forgiving him without any accountability because they felt guilty he was sad, and then those same people spending their time and energy fighting to save this rich family's reputation and livelihood. That's not me offering an interpretation, that is what literally happened on our screens!

So yeah, it was bad! It was clear weeks ago that it was not going in the right direction, but I understand holding out hope that they'd pull a rabbit out of a hat or look into the camera and say sike. But that ship has sailed at this point, and Peaceful Property becomes another in a pattern of GMMTV shows that try to incorporate class disparity in their narratives and get it very very wrong.

Which brings me to your second question: are there any QLs I recommend that do this better? Yes! Here is a short list for other Thai shows that have genuinely done this better:

Moonlight Chicken: not a class disparity narrative, but the only GMMTV show to date that has depicted working class people with full dignity and empathy

Dark Blue Kiss: the only GMMTV bl to tell a romance story that involves class conflict and not completely bungle it (snaps to TayNew for having another show that did better on this)

My Ride: a slow burn romance between a doctor and a motorcycle taxi driver that gets the way their class disparity would shape their relationship right

Love Sea: this one isn't perfect (I think the working class character in the pair gets too little narrative attention relative to his rich counterpart) but it does take the class disparity seriously and ensures it informs the relationship the whole way through

Laws of Attraction: don't laugh at me, I'm serious! This show is mostly absurd but the core narrative is all about class conflict, and it informs the romance quite thoroughly, too

The Loyal Pin: including this one on the word of @twig-tea because I haven't watched yet, but I understand it's dealing with class very directly in its core relationship (with the disclaimer that it still has two episodes to go so something could go sideways)

I'd also throw in some shows that aren't really about class disparity but do include it as part of the narrative background to inform characterization and plot like I Told Sunset About You, Love By Chance, Khun Chai, and 3 Will Be Free

Outside of Thailand, South Korea is always a safe bet for strong class disparity narratives, and in QL you'll find the best examples in Hwang Da Seul's works (Where Your Eyes Linger, Blueming, To My Star 2, and currently Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo). Japan and Taiwan actually don't do much of this, because most of their shows are about middle class and working people as a rule. Miseinen, a Japanese BL that just started airing, looks to be tackling a class disparity narrative, though, and doing it well so far (not a coincidence that the source material is from Korea). And We Best Love is a classic Taiwanese BL with a significant class disparity informing the romance conflict. Blue Canvas of Youthful Days is a currently airing Chinese BL that is doing a class disparity romance and has been killing it so far.

So there is my incredibly long answer to your questions! Thank you again for sending me this kind note; I'm so appreciative that we can chat about this stuff and still maintain our love for these shows. I hope you find some things you like on the rec list, as well. :)

[yakutarts]

Nightmare and Dream but feral, non-skeletal body!

For the love of god PLEASE click on the image for better quality + close ups and clothed version under the cut!!

Would you kiss them?

Video process:

I made these using a specific context

A while ages ago I drew and posted a drawing of Nightmare and Dream on their light ball form but with some alterations/personal headcanons.

On the post, I expressed my desire to draw the twins in a universe were Nim didn’t need to give them bodies, and just let them grow naturally. And specifically give them an animalistic appearance, instead of a humanoid one like most artist do.

You can see on the process video that it took me 1000 sketches to make something that looked good and I was happy with, the video is obviously sped up, the total time it took me to make this was 28 hours and 15 minutes.

Now explaining some things:

Why are they so big?

I read on a post made by Joku that Nim, before giving them skeleton bodies, tried to make them human ones, but the pure amount of magic and power the twins had made the human bodies explode or some shit. So she picked skeletons since the magic could flow freely through the bones without being confined by muscle and flesh. That made me think if their power had physical forms, it would be gigantic. So I gave them gigantic forms to better represent their status of strength and power, beings made from raw magic to serve as guardians of all emotions throughout the multiverse, of course I needed to make them big and intimidating!

Why the horns?

Artistic design choice, I gave them little horns and a chubby tail in their light ball form to purposefully make them more animalistic, wanted to keep it while making these. Also just giving them a smooth head with nothing much going on looked weird and boring.

Why the draconian look?

Dragons had been created and depicted as symbols of pure power above humanity and worshipped as deities throughout several cultures around the world, different depictions of dragons has been one of the only things present among almost all cultures, like a default folklore creature. While I tried to incorporate other mythical creatures in the design, the draconic body plan felt more right due to the influence of dragons on human beliefs, and their representation as magical and powerful beings beyond human comprehension. Plus I just really love drawing dragons.

Why the clothing choice? Also why is Dream half naked while Nightmare has everything covered?

While designing the clothes for Nightmare, I used as reference clothing that usually royalty would wear, Nightmare has a really big ego and sees himself as a king, so he uses fancy, expensive clothing and jewelry, adapted and designed for his anatomy. Not practical for battle, but his corruption can go through the fabric without damaging it, and most people and monsters just run when they see him, so he doesn’t worry about it getting dirty or tearing, Nightmare just expects every soul to instantly submit when they see him, so he never worries about getting into a battle and getting dirty he has that big of an ego.

Dream is the opposite, his style of clothing much more practical for running, jumping, flying, fighting and general exercise. He has 4 bags in total, 2 on each side, inside them he keeps several items, be it healing food, magical artifacts, first aid kit, gifts he receives, stuff he buys or random things he finds and wants to take home with him. Dream’s crown is now a colar couldn’t figure out how to make it work with the head shape and horns, his cape is from his official design, but changed to white, was planning to make it yellow but when I looked at it my eyes hurt because there was too much yellow everywhere. I made Dream’s clothes with the intent to match his official design, I didn’t to the same for nightmare because a turtle neck with a hoodie on a dragon would make him more huggable than intimidating. Plus I like to think that the leg warmers was a gift from Blue, and the ring on his horn a gift from Ink. Didn’t add more stuff on him because I couldn’t think of something that would look good and match Dream’s vibe, the rest of his clothes on his official design didn’t translate well here. Oh, while I was drawing this, I drew the colar and the leg warmers first, without the cape, Dream looked like a twink with a pet play kink.

Side note; neither Nightmare or Dream see the use of clothes as a necessity or as decency. For them clothes are nothing but pure decoration and to show off status for Nightmare, they can wear full body suits, partial clothing, just jewelry, or nothing at all, which is what they usually go for when at home, wearing or not wearing stuff doesn’t make that much of a difference to them at all.

Do they act as animals or do they have human intelligence?

Despite me using the word “feral” all the time to describe them, they do not actually act as animals. I’m only using “feral” to describe their body/anatomy, Nightmare and Dream are fully sentient and have human level intelligence/awareness. They are capable of speech and have opposable thumbs on their front paws, they can grab, write, hold… do anything a human can do with their hands with dexterity. But they do have to use only hand one at a time, and balance themselves with the other. To use both hands, they have to be sitting, or be supported by something, they can balance themselves on their wings if they have to.

And now contradicting what I just said, they have some animalistic behaviors. The twins can growl, purr and roar. Despite Nightmare being able to use his tentacles and Dream being able to shoot magic arrows out of his wings, they to also scratch and bite while fighting. Since they are big and heavy, they can easily crush bone under their weight and their bite force is strong enough to split someone in half. If you need a reference, just use Smaug from The Hobbit, he has more or less the balance of animal behavior and human intelligence I’m looking for.

Expanding more on this, the twins stretch just like felines, and often sleep in positions usually cats sleep in (they don’t actually need to sleep but do anyway). Dream likes to go fishing, and by fishing I mean jumping in a lake and chasing the fish underwater. He finds it more fun than sitting around and waiting for the fish to come to you instead.

I guess you count their lack of necessity to wear clothes as animal logic too?

_________________

If you have any more questions about them, I will be happy to answer!

And yes, I do plan on making more drawings of Nightmare and Dream on this form!

Dreamtale belongs to @jokublog

Feral concept/design by @yakutarts (me)

[lilac-set]

Reminder: even if trump wins, we’ll be ok. The presidency isnt the only political position that matters, he wont be a dictator, the president doesnt have the power to remove every other part of government that keeps the president’s power in check. Also politics isnt the only thing that matters. Even if we lose some rights (which he cant singlehandedly do) we still have community, we still have activism, we’ll always be ok. We survived one trump presidency, we can survive another. We survived before gay marriage or transitioning were legal, if we have to survive that again we will. Please, no matter what happens, promise to stay alive. Youre valuable, youre important, and youre going to be ok. Its better to be overprepared than underprepared. Im not asking you to lose hope (im doing the opposite of that), im asking you to practice coping ahead, get all your coping skills ready, determine now to stay alive, because i dont want any of you to make any rash decisions later in case we get bad news and emotions are high. Make a safety plan if you need to. Make sure you’re gonna be ok

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Adam: But I do know one thing.

Lucifer: What's that?

Adam: Lilith is going to be pissed...... It's weird being able to say her name after so long.

Lucifer let the chain disappear and sighed, today had been one Hell of a fucking day. So Lilith was cheating on him the last one hundred years and sneaking off to be with Alastor? Did that mean the last seven years she just..... Left them to finally be with Alastor?

Bitch can be mad he doesn't even care.

Lucifer: Yeah it's probably jarring.

Adam: Yeah.....

It felt like he had heart burn in his fucking soul.

Lucifer: So, you actually own Lutes and Peters souls?

Adam: Yeah, I didn't think I actually could. Lute is salty because she thinks I cheated her out of it but she's not as good at cards as she thinks she is.

Lucifer: And Peter?

Adam: Guy practically gave it to me. Didn't take a lot. Other than keeping him safe.

Lucifer had a lot of thinking to do, he wasn't sure if he was going to tell Charlie but it would be better coming from him.

Lucifer: Get some rest okay? You've earned it.

Adam smiled: Okay..... You okay?

Lucifer: I'll be fine.... Just need some time.

Adam nodded and watched him go. He sighed and laid down on his bed and went to sleep. This was the first time he didn't have a nightmare in 7 years.

Lowkey want an au where Adam has Alastors' powers.

The tentacles

The eyes

The changing size

The shadows

The sass

The deal making

Him owning Husk and Nifty

The musical numbers

The radio control

The tentacles- have I mentioned that before?

The rivalry with Lucifer

Maybe he replaces Alastor entirely. No Alastor. Only Adam. It's always been Adam.

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

Only Adam lol This is good! His Husk and Nifty could be Lute and Peter.

He doesn't have to smile all the time does he?

Yessss, and he plays rock instead of jazz lol And yes of course there is a rivalry lol