#in case anyone wondered abt those

[cliffclan]

Vinedusk

joined CliffClan moon 0, aged 102 moons

notable former apprentices: Bearpaw, Nimbletooth

While Lionflicker had no special standing prior to the flood, her new second in command certainly did- among the flashy cats of the now-gone JayClan, Vinedusk was a cat whose bold exploits inspired no small amount of awe. Though Vinedusk fancied the prestige that came with responsibility, she never was quite ready for a position of more power in JayClan- and now finds herself named deputy under much less ideal circumstances.

Vinedusk, used to doing largely as she pleased, chafes against the tighter rein that the more fretful Lionstar keeps her on- nothing like her previous, more permissive, leader. She is both emotionally volatile after the flood, and one of the most competent cats the fledgeling clan has left, simply by default. It is a burden she is still learning to bear well.

[spinnysocks]

i adamantly refuse to accept that i can't be “productive”. i don't know exactly why. partly because of this stupid ass capitalist society that screams at me to spend every waking hour job searching? partly because i want to create i want to create i want to create but most of the time i can't? yeah bit of both. heavy on the lack of personal creativity. sometimes all i can do is wake up, eat, work on some playlists, talk about my favourite shows and characters on here and maybe just maybe have a walk if i'm up to it. some weeks are really good and i can be super productive. whatever that means. and it's so fulfilling. but then i can't get myself to do anything for a week. i don't mean it and i hate it. but i can't change it, at least not right this second. maybe i will always be this way. i will hate it always but maybe just maybe if i start to accept it, the more i will have to give

[alexcabotgf]

not to be true crime posting on main but i think i'm falling down the wm3 rabbit hole again

[transrevolutions]

ok warning to y'all that on december 15 I'm gonna be getting some news that will be either very good or very bad. I might end up in a really shitty headspace if things go badly, so it's possible that I'll post fucked up stuff and forget to tag it.

hopefully this will end up being a non-issue but I thought it would be good to note this ahead of time.

[norrisainz33]

Best in Show || CS55 & CL16

☆ summary: charles’ sister is headed to the olympics and she’s ready to bring things to the next level with her fwb carlos

☆ pairing: carlos sainz & olympic!leclerc!reader

☆ f/c & warnings: none; slightly suggestive & terribly translated french

☆ requested: yes!! thanks for your request 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

scuderiaferrari has posted a video

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user3: i don’t understand how all of the leclerc’s are so perfect and talented

user1: the leclerc brothers are so 🤤

user2: princess of monaco about to eat up the competition at the olympics

user8: wait that’s insane only 6 athletes? the uk sent 327… y/n must be really good

user2: she is!! she’s been to the show jumping world cup AND she won the jumping international in monte carlo (both huge accomplishments especially at her age)

user4: their genes are strong and full of sporting talent huh

user24: they should’ve gotten carlos in on this interview. he loves talking about y/n

user18: no fr he very clearly has a crush on her

ynleclerc has made a post

liked by charlesleclerc, scuderiaferrari, visitmonaco, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, and 879,001 others

ynleclerc: did someone say ,, olympics? get ready to watch your favorite duo (me and [horse’s name]) take on paris 😉

view all 876 comments

user6: HI Y/N (louder than everyone else)

user7: she’s so unserious i love her

charlesleclerc: and why did you have to post the last photo

ynleclerc: because i love it frère [brother]

arthurleclerc: why didn’t i make the olympics announcement post

ynleclerc: bc you refused to put on the glasses bebe

user11: the royal family of monaco is so beautiful

juliaanalvarez: looking forward to seeing you in paris

ynleclerc: you better cheer me on julián

user88: ik carlos is shaking in his boots. he’s got competition it seems

user99: no y/n anyone but a soccer player

carlossainz55: congratulations on making it to the olympics y/n 😍

ynleclerc: thanks carly 🤭

user22: CARLY DNSKSJF

user18: i ship y/n and carlos so hard

use r23: day 124 of wondering why they aren’t together

ynleclerc has made a post

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charlesleclerc, yourbff, landonorris, francisca.cgomes, and 534,230 others

ynleclerc: don’t worry everyone - the party has arrived in paris and we already made it through the first round 🇲���

view all 546 comments

user12: oh thank goodness (i wasn’t worried)! congratulations on an incredible first round

user13: what do i have to do to be that horse

landonorris: when are you gonna let me take a ride on ya?

charlesleclerc: mate that’s my sister

landonorris: i was talking abt the horse

ynleclerc: i hate you landonorris

landonorris: no you don’t ma cherry

ynleclerc: CHÉRIE

landonorris: 😘😘

user29: lando is so real for this

user24: impatiently waiting for carlos to get here

alexandrasaintmleux: the prettiest girl in all of paris. i am so proud of you 🤍

ynleclerc: please get your beautiful self here quicker 😫

carlossainz55: paris is looking real good these days 😍

ynleclerc: you should come find out just how good it looks 😏

user23: whoa get a room

arthurleclerc: please stop flirting

texts between you and carlos

ynleclerc has added to their story

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user77: my god you’re gorgeous

user99: now who … sent you those flowers ms y/n? was it charles? was it julian? was it carlos? i won’t spill the beans if u tell me i promise

user34: i’m rooting for you y/n!! you and [horses name] are going to crush it

landonorris: i know i didn’t send you flowers… so who did?

ynleclerc: wait… you didn’t send these?

landonorris: y/n/n don’t play with me. was it him?

ynleclerc: yes 🤭

landonorris: I KNEW IT. so you guys together or?

landonorris: DONT LEAVE ME ON READ TF

charlesleclerc: y/n/n - i only sent you the white ones… who are the others from?

ynleclerc: my adoring fans!

charlesleclerc: arrête! [stop it] we both know that is not the case

charlesleclerc: just tell me who they are from. i’ll be cool about it

ynleclerc: no you won’t charlie 🤍

arthurleclerc: charles sent me - tell me who those are from

ynleclerc: no! hope that helps bebe 😘

arthurleclerc: are they from a certain spanish driver or an argentinian footballer?

alexandrasaintmleux: your brothers are insufferable sometimes…. but don’t worry i didn’t tell them who sent those gorgeous flowers 😍🤭

ynleclerc: my girl 😘

user87: wagering a bet that those flowers are from carlos

ynleclerc has made a post

liked by carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, landonorris, danielricciardo, yourbff, and 876,456 others

ynleclerc: obviously not the result i was hoping for. we tapped the last bar on the last jump as we were about to set the fastest time. i’m gutted but at the same time i am immensely proud of everything [horse’s name] and i have accomplished. we are bringing home monaco’s only medal from the entire olympic games and for that i am elated. i think i prefer silver anyway 🥈🤍

view all 789 comments

user67: being the reason monaco is getting a medal is still an insane serve

user87: my favorite horse girl

landonorris: a medal is a medal - proud of you punk

ynleclerc: thank you bobby

juliaanalvarez: congratulations on a hard won medal!

ynleclerc: merci julian! glad we got to catch up 🤍

user57: back!! back i said 🤺

carlossainz55: y/n/n you gave it everything you had out there and you have so much to be proud of. i am in awe of you

ynleclerc: carlos 🥹

user55: this is so sweet i’m gonna throw up

user23: day 145 of wondering why they aren’t together

arthurleclerc: good job or whatever sis

ynleclerc: thanks loser

carmenmundt: you are an absolute inspiration! congratulations on following your dreams and making them come true 🤍

ynleclerc: i love you so much carmen

charlesleclerc has made a post

liked by ynleclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly, scuderiaferrari, visitmonaco, landonorris and 987,654 others

charlesleclerc: we made it to paris in time to see y/n in the final event. ma petite sœur je suis si fière de toi. je suis pour toujours et à jamais ton plus grand soutien. [my little sister, i am so proud of you. i am forever and always your biggest supporter]

view all 999 comments

scuderiaferrari: congrats y/n on a hard fought silver! we are so proud of you

user16: wake up ! hottest photo dump of the summer just dropped 😭😫😍

user37: wow arthur is eating charles up in the 4th slide

ynleclerc: merci charlie. je t'aime jusqu'à la lune et retour. merci d'être là [thank you charlie. I love you to the moon and back. thank you for being there]

charlesleclerc: je t'aime y/n/n. i wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.

ynleclerc: btw who even invited pierre?

pierregasly: why can’t i turn up and support my favorite leclerc?

ynleclerc: i’m your favorite?

pierregasly: no , not even close

francisca.cgomes: i’m sorry y/n! he simply insisted upon tagging along 🙄

ynleclerc: i’ll let it slide because i got to see you my love 😍

user34: so special that they were all able to make it to paris

alexandrasaintmleux: my favorite girl in the whole world is an olympic medalist! monaco and all of us are so proud 🤍

ynleclerc: don’t make me cry 🥹

user76: monegasque royal family is my roman empire

ynlecerc has posted to their story

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user55: I KNOW THATS MY MAN CARLOS

user87: you ain’t slick id recognize that hand and arm anywhere. that is mr carlos sainz jr

francisca.cgomes: your brother resorted to calling me to see if i knew who was in this post 🙄

ynleclerc: of course he did…. he’ll find out soon enough 🤭

charlesleclerc: anything you want to tell me? looks a lot like a teammate of mine

ynleclerc: nothing i want to tell you charlie :)

carlossainz55: had a wonderful evening with you mi amor. let’s do it again.. and again and again and again.

ynleclerc: i had an amazing time. i’m already looking forward to our next date!! you may as well just come back to my flat now idk why you even left in the first place

carlossainz55: didn’t want to come across too clingy

ynleclerc: good thing i like clingy! get back here 😏

carlossainz55: yes ma’am

user27: begging to know how much charles and arthur are stressing over this story

ynleclerc has made a post

liked by scuderiaferrari, yourbff, carlossainz55, carmenmundt, landonorris, visitmonaco, and 789,465 others

ynleclerc: yes, you all guessed it! he’s mine 😘

view all 899 comments

user13: someone check on the user who has been counting the days since they started flirting

user23: i’ve been summoned!! all i can say is thank god

landonorris: it’s about time

arthurleclerc: i called it

user99: old money carlos is perfect for our equestrian goddess

charlesleclerc: so this is how i find out?

ynleclerc: you did say you were one of my fans so… yes?

charlesleclerc: you are on my last nerve

carmenmundt: adorable 😍

carlossainz55: my gorgeous girl 😘

ynleclerc: my man my man my man

francisca.cgomes: time for a double date 🤍

pierregasly: charles says i’m not allowed

ynleclerc: who said you were invited pierre?

user47: vibes in the ferrari garage in zandvoort are gonna be wild

user98: carlosy/n truthers our time has come

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: another installment of olympic reader wahooo! slowly but surely making my way through my requests. liked and reblogs are always appreciated

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[glamourscat]

I LOVE UR TIM FICS SM HES LITERALLY MY BABY I LOVE HEARING PPL TALK ABT HIM MORE‼️‼️

Anyway I was wondering if I could request a fic of reader teasing/flirting with Tim to see him blush and maybe throw in some smooches stolen

TY IF U CHOOSE TO WRITE THIS 🙏🙏

Tim, are you blushing? | tim drake x reader

a/n: sorry for the wait, i hope you like this <3

For someone so brilliant, so capable of leading teams and solving impossible cases, Tim turned into an adorable mess when flustered.

And you? Well, you'd made it your personal mission to see that blush as often as possible. Because after all, if a loophole is present, why not take advantage of it? 

"Hey, pretty boy," you called out, leaning against the doorframe of the Batcave's computer station. Tim was hunched over the keyboard, analyzing some ridiculously complex case. Typical. 

He hummed in acknowledgment, not looking up. So absorbed into his work he did not even hear you properly. 

You grinned, skipping over to where he was sitting. "You know, for someone with such amazing detective skills, you're pretty oblivious."

That got his attention. "What do you mean?"

"Well," you draped yourself over the back of his chair, your breath tickling his ear, "you haven't noticed I've been wearing your hoodie all day."

Tim's typing stuttered to a halt. He turned slowly, those blue eyes widening as he finally noticed his favorite hoodie draped over your frame. His scent, the mix of tea, lavender and talk is so strong and most of all, it all over you. 

"I- when did you-" A pink tint crept up his neck.

"This morning. After you left for patrol" You hummed, moving to sit besides him. "It's super comfy. I might keep it."

"That's- I mean-" He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "You can't just steal my clothes."

"Why not? Do I not look good in it?," you grinned, showing off your figure teasingly. And there it was. That full-blown blush you'd been aiming for. "Besides, you love seeing me in your clothes. Don't even try to deny it."

Tim ran a hand through his messy black hair, a nervous habit you know too well by now. "You're– i.. Well, damn it" he stutters flustered as he bites his lower lip. 

His blue eyes looking at yours intensly, his face illuminated thanks to the batcave computer. And you did not miss how his eyes darted from your face to your lips. Well… who are you lose an opportunity, right? You lean over and quickly steal a peck. 

A rather embarrassing yet endearing quiet moan leaves his lips at the unexpected yet welcome contact. 

“You did not just..” he looks at you with his mouth slightly apart like a fish.

You reached out, gently brushing his bangs from his eyes. "Aw, so cute." it was not meant to come accross in a mocking way, but objectively speaking, you were feeling so damn cocky right now.

Your comment is what makes him react though. In a few seconds he stood up, his hands on your waist squeezing, as his forehead rests against yours. So close, damn he is so hot. Your heart did a little flip at the sudden proximity.

"You think you're so clever, don't you?"

"I know I am."

"Always teasing me," he murmured, leaning somehow even closer. "Always trying to make me blush."

"Can you blame me? You're adorable when you're flustered. I just wanna kiss you senseless."

His eyes flickered to your lips. "Maybe I should return the favor."

Before you could come up with a witty response, he was the one to closed the distance this time, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet, soft kiss. It was your turn to be surprised, melting into him as one of his hands moved to cup your cheek.

When he pulled back, there was a triumphant gleam in his eyes. "Now who's blushing?"

You laugh quietly. "Always needing to have the last word hmm?" Your hands go on his hips.

You two spent the rest of your afternoon kissing. Smiling maybe too much for it to be perfect, but somehow that made it even better. And if anyone noticed that Tim's productivity took a serious hit that afternoon, or the fact that he looked like he ran a marathon-- with his messy hair, panting breath, red cheeks and puffy lips-- well, nobody pointed it out.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[anshelsgendercrisis]

Hello! I've noticed some things going on in this Wikipedia talk page:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Talk:Jewish_exodus_from_the_Muslim_world

Which is probably where everyone uninformed is going to be getting their information if Mizrahi Jews are ever brought up. There's been edit warring over articles already, and certain articles have pretty stark tonal differences from their pre-oct 7 counterparts, so it does seem like this one might be caught up in it eventually.

Two comments i'm wondering about are the last one by Gamalny, which mirrors a lot of comments you'll hear if Jews in Arab countries is ever brought up, and the response to the name change by Onceinawhile.

Those two seem to be the common sentiment and directly contradicts what I've heard basically every Jew with Mizrahi ancestry say about their ancestors experience, but word of mouth/blogs don't really account for too much. Do you happen to have anything to push back against it? If Gamalnys comment is any indicator, its going to be really damn annoying if that gets picked up to turbo boost the colonizer narrative.

i’m speechless. this is. horrific.

i’m gonna respond with more info tomorrow when i have time to collect some solid sources but i’m posting it now in case anyone has any sources to recommend or anything to say abt this. quite frankly evil comment. like sorry but this is on the same level as holocaust denial to me. this is disgusting and i hope this person never has to suffer any of the horrific things they’re denying happened to sephardi and maghrebi and mizrahi jews.

[aq2003]

really love how throughout a lot of smith and jones martha is really skeptical and apprehensive towards ten (+ one of my favorite exchanges between them - "what, people call you 'the doctor'?" "yeah?" "well, i'm not. far as i'm concerned, you've got to earn that title."), not taking everything he says at face value, even doubting the fact he's an alien until over halfway through the episode.. And like. i really truly think the thing that wins her over isn't him kissing her or any of the other insane mixed messages he manages to send, it's this scene here, where he /earns that title/ in her eyes:

(+ david's bit in the commentary, where he says: "[the doctor] has actually sacrificed himself, and - i would say, that that final act of selflessness is what finally, eventually, welds martha to him. [...] and she now returns it. she returns that act of selflessness.")

this is what their relationship is built on. it isn't about martha being the second-best replacement to rose or a rebound or whatever. bc it isn't really about rose. it's about doctor-in-training martha meeting someone (quite literally, "the doctor") whose ideals she aspires to, and doing her best to be the same person to him as he is to everyone else. it's about ten in return admiring her intelligence and inquisitiveness and how she cares for human life, recovering his compassion, letting himself lean on her for support - and then remembering at the most inopportune moments that he's supposed to not need anyone and be on his own forever. And around in their little nightmare loop they go where they save each other over and over until one of them breaks

i've seen ppl look at martha and go "why she does she admire/why is she so in love with ten if he acts like that to her?" or something along those lines and like. it's not just the fact she's in love with him (in fact i'd argue she actively tries to push it aside post-gridlock). it's the fact that she knows he's the kind of person to put everyone else's lives/well-being over his own. she trusts him to save her when she's in trouble even though it's been like two days at most that they've known one another bc she recognizes that same "deep all-encompassing drive to help others" in him. and she also recognizes, much much earlier than him, that he needs someone to save him, especially when he's unwilling to save himself. and yeah for a bit she thinks he returns her feelings and is just playing hard-to-get, but she realizes pretty early on that this probably isn't the case, and i think that realization fully solidifies here:

(this is when she's listening to ten talk abt gallifrey). And idk it might just be me but i think this expression isn't just her empathizing with his loss. it's also guilt, for wanting something from him that he's clearly unable to give when he's wracked with so much grief. (and you see it in the next episode, where tallulah asks if they're together and martha says for certain that they're not, and that he doesn't know about her feelings for him. she keeps everything to herself bc she now knows that when he shut her flirting down at the end of 3x01 it was the genuine reaction of someone who a) isn't interested and b) is scared of getting close with someone else again)

freema described their dynamic as "she's keener than him" and i think about this all the time. martha doesn't really take what ten throws at her. what she does instead is constantly poke holes in his already-failing front of "i will show someone the wonders of the universe so i can ignore what is wrong with me". what she does is stand up and fight him when he tries to go off on his own. what she does is put aside her well-being in favor of helping someone - just like what she saw him do for the people in the hospital when they first met. tldr, that's the doctor and his doctor and rip martha you would've loved who's gonna save u now by rina sawayama

[incorrectbatfam]

i'm writing a bat family wing fic (of sorts) and can't decide what wings to give Duke. he can have either some kind of bird wings, bat wings, OR insect wings.

(the way the wings work is that they kinda magically get them when they become vigilantes/"guardians of gotham" bc theyre already so much magic bullshit around Gotham that i figured why not. so they'res not genes or metahuman stuff really involved which why all of them, and just them, have wings)

birds wings like the other Robins, but Duke was never technically/officially a Robin.

bat wings as part of the bat family but again, never officially a Robin + obviously he wears a bat emblem as Signal.

finally insect wings -> i thought it'd be cool if he had smth that reflected light bc of his powers (maybe dragonfly wings??)

idk. i'm curious to hear other people's thoughts abt it

(in case you're wondering, Bruce, Babs, and Cass, (and eventually Terry but like he's not even born at this point) will have bat wings. Dick, Jason, Tim, and Steph will have bird wings (Steph gets bird wings and not bat wings because she was Robin before she was Batgirl, although i think ill have her get her wings before she joins the batfam when she starts out as Spoiler). i haven't decided on Damien and i'm not including anyone else bc that would be. So Many People.)

Give him pterodactyl wings for no reason other than it'd be hilarous

Imagine Bruce Wayne, veteran dinosaur lover, getting regular bat wings while the new kid gets a fucking PREHISTORIC CREATURE

Also Damian should have those things flying squirrels have

[love-toxin]

#the merchant not being IN the shooting range like he is in re4 gives me thots abt being bent over the counter too-//SHOT #luis promising u a prize if u beat his high score (its him he's the prize)

so u just gonna spoonfeed us some ideas then leave us hungry ⁉️⁉️⁉️ smh my head get to work /j

>:)

(cws: gn!reader, semi-public sex, jealousy, mutual pining, teasing)

You know Luis isn't gonna keep quiet while you're shooting away--honestly he has to stop himself from shifting around or adjusting himself because just the sight of you with a gun in your hands turns him on. He loves the way your shoulders tense when he gives you a compliment, how you glance over your shoulder and your grip goes slack when he flashes you a wink and a grin, because you just can't help being cute. You can act tough all you want, but you're adorable and he thinks you know that. If not, well, he's here to remind you.

"How about some pointers, mi vida?"

"I know how to shoot, Luis."

You huff and puff but you don't reject his approach, you don't shove him off when his chest meets your back and certainly not when his hands clasp gently over yours. You let him lead you, guide your hands up to aim the sights down at the target, and slowly squeeze the trigger-

"You're good at this, mi amor." His murmuring voice trickles into your ear, resonating louder in the aftermath of the enormous bang of the gun firing and the target blasting into pieces. His fingertips drawing down your arm leave shivers in their place, his warmth bleeding into every inch of skin....it's no wonder you lay the gun down and turn to face him, eyes gleaming with something akin to need that your hands convey so much clearer as they drift up his chest. Luis doesn't even have to speak, you can feel his intentions in the way he reaches around to grab for fistfuls of your cheeks, and lifts you up to sit you on the counter so you can look down on him.

"Oh, don't let me stop you. I'm just admiring the view." Such a tease. He's swift in feeling behind you for the gun and raising it up, his free hand coming round to shelter your head in the crook of his neck and cover your ears as he shoots off a few quick rounds. Looking back, you're met with a smoking gun and an empty chamber, plus six new holes in the last six targets you've spent twenty minutes trying not to miss. You roll your eyes and he tucks the gun away in your case lying just off to the side, but even though he's bracing the small of your back as he does so he never lets go of you completely.

"Alright, Sera. You win."

"I win, mmh? Win what?" He purrs into your skin, nosing your cheek just until you turn your head and find your lips barely a hair's breadth from one another. You really have no idea what your voice alone does to him--nor how lost he could get in your eyes and your warm breath on his skin.

"You win....twenty minutes. You can do whatever you want with me for twenty minutes." You whisper back, quiet and soft like you're afraid people will hear you. All your secrets are safe with him, though. They might be the only ones he can keep.

"Anything?"

"I'm all yours, Luis."

Those words could very well be a siren song to him, they're almost toxic in the way they singe their way through his veins and blur any sound thoughts from his conscience. But even poison would taste sweet if he drank it from you, and when he closes that distance to kiss you, that's all he tastes on your tongue. Sweetness.

"I could do damage in ten. You're generous, amor."

His heart soars as you lean in for him again, lips chasing his like that one kiss wasn't enough for you. Usually it's him that's doing the chasing, that's begging not to be let go, praying he's going to be held for longer than a second--you fill that need like it's as easy as breathing, so maybe you're not quite as poisonous as he might've thought. Loving anyone is dangerous for him...especially when he's so quick to realize it's really love, and not just lust.

Time stands still in those heated presses of mouth to mouth, breathing fresh life into his lungs, yet every other moment seems to blur together before he can try to hold it in place. Your clothing spills over your shoulders and down your thighs, bare skin meeting his palms as he vainly tries to consume as much of you as he can. How desperate he is to lower his head and fall to his knees before you, but you pull his face closer to share another kiss instead--and how could he deny you? This prize is meant to be his, but he gets so much more out of allowing you total control over his body.

Luis wouldn't have thought you could get cuter than that, but the desperate paw of your hands at his belt and the strain for more kisses blows that assumption right away. This clearly isn't a one-way street, you've been craving him just as much as he has you. Maybe this is what you were hoping for. Maybe this is what you've been building up to all this time, and why you've made him spend so much time here just to watch your hands fiddle with the trigger of your gun. He'd like to imagine you were envisioning it was him, and based on the confident way you grab hold of him under his jeans, he was right.

"We're short on time, Luis. Let's make this quick." Your lips against his ear as you stroke him feels like a rebirth, his knees buckling and his eyes halfway to rolling back in his head. How can you make him so weak? There's part of him that wishes it wasn't so, but another part shines through in his wobbly grin, one that whispers out 'I want more of you'.

The tips of his fingers part your kiss and dip into your mouth, your tongue like velvet as you suck down on each one. He just needs them wet but you go further; you lap up every ounce of him so all that remains is you. Your scent, your taste, your touch--much like what you do to him each time you brush by, your presence like golden light he can't help himself from basking in, and himself a heathen that craves your glow over salvation.

And as he pushes each one inside, your nails bite into his bare shoulders at the ache, the stretch ripping a gasp out of your lungs that soon dulls into the sweetest whines Luis has ever heard. You're so eager in your touch yet overwhelmed every time he indulges you, so he expects as much when his hand retracts and he replaces it by guiding the tip to your center. Were you really just pretending to be annoyed by him all this time?

Maybe some of it was real, surely, he knows himself well enough to anticipate it. But all of it is called into question when you grab his hips forward, forcing him to yield to your heat when he's entering you too slow for your taste. Now it's his turn to cry out, each breath stumbling on its way out while you pant and press your lips to his throat, his hips sunk all the way down to meet flush with yours. He must be so deep you can feel him in your stomach, and your crooning voice gasping about how big he is reassures him so. Moving feels almost impossible now, and yes, now that he's gotten this far he'd adore nothing more than to just stay in place and bask in your warmth forever. But you're so needy for him it seems, and the last thing he'll do is disappoint you--and that's what draws him back and pushes his hips forwards, your squeaky moans of ecstasy dragging out that animalistic pace he's been keeping locked up for ages.

"Imagine how much trouble we'd get in if Leon found out," He pants with a chuckle, hurrying his thrusts as the urgency of time finally settles on his shoulders.

"I really don't wanna think about Leon right now," You breathe right back, keening out a whine as your body adjusts to both the intrusion and the force of Luis slamming you back against the wood-grain countertop ad nauseum. As childish a thought as it is, he feels a smirk return as he thinks "good". As great as he is, there's a few things Luis would rather not share with that criminally handsome American if he can help it--and you're one of them.

"How's that feel, mi vida?" The sloppy, thumping rhythm of his belt buckle hitting the counter and your body clinging to every drag drowns out any half-whimper of an answer you give, your breathing peppered by echoes of his name and curses that would even make himself blush. Luis brushes a bit of your hair from your cheek and cups it with a ginger firmness, the gesture melting you in his palms as you meet his eyes and think of nothing else but him. Whatever the answer is, he can't imagine a string of flowery words as good as seeing you come undone in front of him. "Feels like a victory to me."

Your groan follows his smug comment either out of indignation or lust, if it even matters. But he's already getting close and he's praying you are too, if for no better reason than his own desire to feel you grip him so hard he bruises as you meet your end. That would be quite the way to show off. And when that blinding pleasure soon overcomes both of you and culminates in a kiss, one so much deeper that means more than either of you are willing to admit, that's when a fresh feeling of pride surges inside Luis as he hears the elevator doors swish open behind him--along with a low, soft inhale of breath being sucked through one's teeth in shock.

[the-astral-express-archive]

Hii sorry if it's a bother - but I've seen some cute illustrations of some characters with a cat that looks alike to the character (kinda like the critters,,?);; ppl said it's official but I can't find them in good quality and don't even know what the illustrations are abt - that's why my description is so poor ㅠ ㅠ

Wonder if you have them! Thank you for your attention :'3

Hello, do you mean the cat illustrations above? If so then those are the new mini badges from HoYo's official merch shop. Afaik they're gifts for purchasing a certain amount of money, not available for sale atm. Here's the link to the bonus event in case anyone's interested. Anw I haven't seen any HQ images of these from any official sources yet so I can't upload any but a Weibo user attempted to upscale these art here, you can try checking them out.

[lewkwoodnco]

"Slut!" - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: been having a lottt of thoughts about this song. it wasn't what I expected like for a lot of ppl but this is immediately my favourite?? like idk man those hints of her rep era beginning mixed with the emotional vulnerability of being in love mannn im going to be annoying abt this for a wholeee month. Reader is a Fittes agent, wc 5.4k!!

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 3.5 | Ch 4 | Ch 5

On paper, her employers had always commended her for her drive for excellence. What was usually glossed over was how it arose from an unhealthy obsession with perfection, not that it mattered. And yet, glowing articles about successful cases were rare and far between. She had led as many successful cases as some of her male colleagues, but those headlines were seemingly too dull for her sex. After all, who wanted to read about a woman showing up the men in her field? So the tabloids started to play dirty, spinning convoluted rumoured love stories from any and every photo of her in the vicinity of a man.

She remembered how devastating the first article was. Instead of publishing one of the many photos of her standing with her team, there was a shadowed, grainy photograph of her talking to their supervisor. She tried to tell anyone who asked her that no, they weren't kissing, not that it would have mattered if it did, but no one seemed much interested in listening. The shame burnt into the side of her face like a scarlet letter. A slut.

Eventually, she decided to just keep everyone at arm's length. Maybe if she kept her head down long enough they'd run out of knives to throw at her. And for a good two years, it somewhat worked, or at least helped. But then she met Lockwood.

She didn't think much of him at first - if anything, she resented his suave, silver tongue and how the press went nuts for his charismatic smiles. He tried to dazzle her with one when they first met, and she nearly scoffed.

"Anthony Lockwood, Lockwood and Co. And you are...?"

"Disgusted."

She tried talking to Barnes, throwing in some less-than-complimentary opinions on Lockwood, but he just waved her off. Eventually, she came around, but only because he was undeniably skilled, and it would have been unprofessional to freeze him out forever.

She remembered the first time he made her smile. Their supervisor was having them sign their case report, so she wasn't even looking at him. He whispered some inane remark which caught her completely off-guard, but it was enough to make her damage the tip of the fountain pen as she choked on a laugh. Her supervisor looked unimpressed, grumbling about the pen, but Lockwood's face had taken on an animated spark.

"Oh, good. I was beginning to wonder if you knew how to smile."

The smile is a foreign feeling on her face. Lockwood gently takes the report from her and starts talking in smooth tones that flow right over her head. She shakes herself and tries to pull herself together, trying to soothe the nervous flutter of her heart. She can only bear catching glimpses of his words and she struggles to string together coherent responses.

But then she hears the vans pulling up. Vans filled with news agencies and their bulky cameras. She's paralysed by a flash of fear and she jumps apart from Lockwood as if burnt, tripping over her words as she forces out some lame excuse of needing to check on her team. Lockwood looks mildly concerned, but she pushes it to the back of her mind.

They meet again a week or two later. She's sitting outside a conference room, waiting for Barnes to finish a meeting, and she realises with a start that the man in the room she's facing is Lockwood. To be fair, she hadn't seen him in an indoor setting before, and he seemed nearly unrecognisable with his typically crisp shirt dusty and wrinkled, with his sleeves rolled up his forearms. She watches him laugh over something with one of his associates as they leave the room, and she drinks in the sight like a man starved. There is something so desperately appealing about the vitality in his face and jaunty movements.

As the smile fades, she recognises the exhaustion on his face; the kind that made her want to do nothing more than stumble home and crawl under the covers. But then he sees her, and he gives her a teasing smile that stokes her spirits. His associate gives her a tired wave and walks out.

"Waiting for me?"

She rolls her eyes and nods towards the conference room. "Waiting for Barnes. Going home?"

He jerks his head noncommittally before sitting down next to her. He looks oddly bare without his coat, and it feels almost too intimate to have him sitting this close to her. She sits up, alarmed.

"What, you need to see him too?"

"You look like you could use some company."

"Lockwood, it could be hours before he's done. Besides, you look like death. Go home, get some rest."

"Joke's on you, I always look like death."

She shakes her head but smiles despite herself. "You're incorrigible."

"Thank you."

They sit in silence for a while, long enough until her breathing evens out. She wonders if he's aware of the way his fingers drum restlessly on his thigh, or the ash coating the side of his face, or how both of those things make him utterly irresistible.

"How do you do it? Stay so young, I mean."

He considers his answer carefully. She takes in the sight of a Lockwood without a ready quip at the tip of his tongue. "I suppose it helps that I'm not singly obsessed with the dead, though it does get close sometimes. Who do you live with?"

"Oh, my family lives outside of London." Thank god. She couldn't imagine the looks on their faces if they heard half of what London's tabloids had to say about her.

"You live alone?"

"Yeah. But it's not so bad. There's a cat that wanders in the street below my flat at night." He doesn't look completely convinced, but he lets it slide.

"Really, I owe it all to my friends - oh, you'd love them. You should come over sometime."

"That's sweet of you."

"Our weekends are generally empty."

"Oh...I couldn't. I don't know where you live."

"35 Portland Row."

"Lockwood," she admonishes. "Don't you think this is something you should run by your friends first?"

"I've done worse."

"I'm practically a stranger."

"Then how else are we supposed to get to know you?"

Her mind tears her away from Lockwood's silhouette, to troubling piles of tabloids dragging her to filth. After months of them, she isn't sure where she ends and where the fabrication begins. She barely manages a whisper.

"I think you'd regret getting to know me."

She doesn't realise how tightly her fist is clenched until he brushes her wrist, and the tension flows out of her. His eyes are liquid and his touch is golden and she's paralysed with dizziness. In that moment, it was enough to be young and in love.

"Only one way to find out."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She takes him up on his invitation sooner than either of them expected. They had just finished a job at a house just a street over from Portland Row, and her team was walking with Lockwood & Co. on their way to the main street. She pauses as George fiddles with the frozen door while the rest of her team walk on, tiredly waving them good night. But just as she turns to leave, she slips on a patch of ice, falling into a pile of snow while Lockwood lunges for her.

"Dear god, you must be freezing. Come in and warm up."

"It's alright, I can catch a cab home-"

"Y/N, I am not above pushing you back into the snow."

Her laugh morphs into a violent shiver, just as Lucy walks over concernedly.

"Everything okay? Lockwood's not bullying you, is he?" She cracks a small smile, but Lockwood just impatiently ignores Lucy.

"Stay for breakfast. Spend the day. Lucy would love the company. Luce, tell her."

"It would be nice."

"I'm soaked through. I need a change of clothes."

"Lucy can get you a change of clothes. Luce, tell her."

"I can get you a change of clothes."

"I wouldn't want to be an imposition."

Lockwood inhales and turns to Lucy, who smacks the breath right out of him.

"I'm right here, Lockwood. Don't be ridiculous, Y/N, we'd love to have you over." Lucy exchanges a look with Lockwood, but it's so brief she wonders if she's imagined it, but it's just then that George forces the door open, and she gets jostled into their warm and dry home. Lucy helps her dry off and tosses her some clothes, including a spare oversized jumper, before bundling her and setting her down in front of the fire in the library.

It feels wonderfully cosy at first, and she only realises she's dozed off when she wakes up with a crick in her neck and beads of sweat on her forehead and neck. She pushes the blankets off her, sighing in relief as she starts to cool down. She hears the rustle of a page behind her and turns.

Lockwood is sitting in an armchair behind her, tie loosened and sleeves rolled up, a magazine on his lap. He smiles weakly at her, wincing as he rotates his neck. She was beginning to feel convinced that he ate, slept and worked in the same set of clothes. Her voice is gravelly with sleep.

"Still up?"

"Someone had to make sure you didn't roll into the fire. Besides, it hasn't been long."

She squints at the clock hung near the door. Unless the shadows were playing tricks on her, it was only a few hours from dawn. The glance he shared with Lucy earlier flashes in her mind, and she presses him about it.

"Say, you haven't told Lucy anything particularly saddening about me, have you?"

He waffles a bit. "I haven't said anything that isn't true."

"Lockwood."

"Fine...I might have mentioned how you live alone, and that you've only got a cold, dark home waiting for you. Alone."

"I didn't say that."

"So you're saying it's not true?"

She hesitates, and he quirks the corner of his mouth triumphantly. "It's no bother, Y/N. Lucy feels as bad about it as I do - George too. Just let us fuss over you for a while, I promise it'll soothe us."

She relents, but she's not happy about it. She watches him lazily flip through the pages with a becoming interest and decides that it's a nice change from the frantic energy running through him on cases. His eyes stay mostly fixed on the pages, but after a while the way he glances up occasionally makes her think his interest is waning. He looks at her strangely, and she unpleasantly realises that the jumper is likely his. She tugs at the hem, itching to take it off, but she isn't wearing a shirt underneath, so she settles for continuing to profusely apologise.

"I'm so sorry for burdening all of you-"

"Y/N, relax. As long as you're warm."

"Well...I'm awake now. And I won't stay too close to the fire. Aren't you going to sleep?"

"I'm a bit wired after the case. Might take a nap later in the day." He jerks his head towards the door. "My room's just down the hallway if you'd like to get some proper rest."

She flushes; talking about his bedroom while wearing his jumper feels too intimate to bear. "It's okay. I'd rather stay here with...you." She chews the inside of her cheek as soon as she says it, holding her breath as she gauges his reaction.

"That's a relief. I'd rather you be here anyway."

She doesn't understand how he says it so casually when she feels that she might run out of air. She tries to calm herself down, taking deep, long breaths. She could be normal if she tried hard enough. They spend the rest of the night like that, somehow never running out of topics to discuss. He tells her about Jessica. She tells her about her family. It's only as he gets up to get ready for breakfast that she asks him about the magazine in his lap. "What were you reading?"

Now it's his turn to look embarrassed. "Oh, er, I like to keep up with what's happening around town -"

"Is that...a tabloid?" She pulls out one of the magazines sticking out of the pile set to the side and blanches at the headline with a dramatically edited photograph of her. Shame burns the side of her face, and she wishes the floor would just open up and swallow her whole. She had stupidly assumed he hadn't heard of her before meeting her, but why shouldn't he have? The magazines beat her to making a first impression, just like they always have. Just like they always will.

"I can explain."

"No, no, it's fine." Was something wrong with her ears, or did her voice sound a bit too distant? "Lots of people read tabloids. It doesn't mean anything. Anyway, we should get ready for breakfast."

"Y/-"

"Lockwood. I mean it. Drop it." The cut-up look in his eyes is bad enough without an apology. What was he apologising for? For her being such For her being a laughingstock? He bows his head and shuffles out of the library. She stays there, frozen, sitting on the floor, until she hears George rattling about in the kitchen. She walks in, slightly disconcerted by the casual t-shirt Lockwood had changed into. So many of his hard edges and shadows in the the library seemed to soften into a more vulnerable outline that makes her regret snapping at him. She mumbles a greeting and George takes a long look at her. If he notices their matching eye bags, he doesn't comment on it, but while she's making tea, she hears a scuffle behind her and turns to see George standing next to Lockwood with the frying pan alarmingly close to his head.

"Eggs, Y/N?"

Lucy arrives soon after, and begins to spread jam on her toast despite George's aggrieved protests.

"Oh, Y/N, I hope you didn't spend all night on the hard floor. I didn't hear you come up to the attic."

"The attic?"

"Yeah, where the extra bed is." She brandishes her jelly-covered knife vaguely threateningly. "Lockwood told you about it, didn't he?"

The boy in question seems a bit too busy buttering his bread to look up. She mumbles an affirmative, but notices his reluctance to meet her eye for majority of breakfast. Still, she couldn't stay mad at him for long, and it didn't seem awfully polite to, either, not after he opened his home to her.

After breakfast, Lockwood left to scope out a potential client and George headed to the Archives for a bit of light reading, so she and Lucy spend the morning playing board games and watching crappy television while painting their nails. She hadn't felt so alive in months. After a few hours, Lucy suddenly remembers some paperwork she had to complete so while she's busy with that, she wanders around the stairs and hallways, reading every newspaper clipping and looking at every picture, eventually working her way down to the kitchen.

She hears a creak coming from the inside and looks in. Lockwood's returned from his excursion and he shrugs off his jacket, placing it on one of the kitchen chairs as she timidly steps in. He seems just as much at a loss for words as her. She tries to break the ice and, surprisingly, it works.

"Seems a bit full of yourself to litter the halls with your achievements." He gives her a small smile and she revels in the glimmer of success.

"Can't help that I'm especially gifted."

Emboldened, she takes a seat at the table as he pulls out an apple from the fruit bowl and a chopping board.

"Nasty business with the press, isn't it?"

She moodily fiddles with the thinking cloth. "Yeah, well. God forbid a woman be happy."

He looks at her like he's trying to figure her out. The attention makes her fidget nervously. They watch him slice the apple into halves, and then quarters, in silence. "Is that why you're so...highly strung on cases?"

"George tell you to talk to me?"

"Er, yes, but he didn't need to. I'm sorry about earlier, by the way. I have an uncanny ability of putting my foot in it."

"I'd never have guessed." She isn't even being sarcastic. She talks to the apple rather than him. "I hate it. They say all these...awful things about me. Not that I have to tell you." She blinks humourlessly. He sets down the knife.

"Y/N, if you think I believe a word those gossip rags have to say about you, I might be seriously overestimating your intelligence."

She swallows the lump in her throat. It's the nicest thing anyone has said to her in a long while. She never fully acknowledged it because that would mean admitting she cared, that she was weak. But she couldn't help it. She lived life forever looking over her shoulder, so wrapped up in what ifs that she could barely stomach what was, forever worrying that anyone would think it was true. Maybe it was true. Her self-perception contorts and convulses, until she feels strangely formless. But that was the beauty of the moment: hidden away in the dim light of the kitchen, with only Lockwood and God as her witness, she could be anything and everything.

Her hand trembles with repressed emotion. He steadies her by carefully covering it with his own.

And for one beautiful, transcendent moment, she thought she might love him.

She walks home in a pleasant haze, her senses enjoying the reprieve from their constant assault. She ambles by a florist, and she sees a rose. It reminds her of Lockwood. She buys the rose and takes it home, even though she knows she doesn't have a vase for it. Even after a day filled with the most fun she'd had in a while, a restlessness troubles her, making her feel feverish with some invisible affliction. She plucks the translucent petals one by one, holding them up to the setting sun streaming through her windows. She wonders what they would look like in his hair. She winces when one of the thorns break the skin of her thumb. She rubs the smear of blood onto her bottom lip. Looking up at the ceiling, her hair a mess, tangled with the rose petals strewn all over her wrinkled sheets, she realises what it means to be hopelessly and cluelessly lovesick.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She remembers the first time she cries in front of him. They were on a case at some billionaire's acres-large manor. She ducks under the tape cordoning off the area and freezes, seeing reporters unobtrusively yet steadily setting up their cameras. There had to be some sort of mistake, they're never here this early. Certainly not before they've even started the job. She feels her senses heighten and a faint buzzing teases her ears. She sees Lockwood glance at her and start walking towards her, and she all but flees in the other direction.

She stays a safe distance away from him until the rest of the agents arrive for their briefing. The billionaire's assistant hadn't arrived yet, so they were standing around one of the outdoor picnic tables in the front garden...right in front of the gathering sea of reporters. She tries her best to pay attention but there's a muffled quality to the discussion as she listens for shutter sounds, real or imagined. Her hands grow clammy and her breathing grows jagged as the ominous feeling in her stomach grows. Something very bad was going to happen and it was going to happen soon, she was sure of it.

As if in slow motion, she watches Lockwood reach across to pick up a file from the table beside her on the table, and she feels her panic reach a crescendo as she senses the ripple of excitement in the press. She flinches so badly before he completes the movement that he gets startled, backing away. The question dies on his lips as she walks away, clumsily adjusting her rapier to give her hands something to do. To stop herself from sobbing over the lenses in her peripheral vision.

The press are just as ruthless as they were the last time she made the mistake of not leaving the scene as soon as she had the chance. And still from the chorus of overlapping voices, one made her heart stop dead.

"Y/N L/N, what do you have to say for seducing London's most eligible bachelor?"

She looks around desperately, struggling against waves of despair that threatened to drag her down into the abyss. No one was safe, not even charismatic Lockwood, and it was all her fault for dragging him into her messy life. It wasn’t fair that news agencies chose her life to screw with. She loved him silly with bruised eyes and an aching liver, but she couldn't even look at him properly. She couldn't scrub the image of Lockwood's face from her mind. Hot shame spread from her spine up her neck, an unpleasant prickling sensation. She felt flayed and grotesque, a hundred different kinds of twisted and messed up. Promiscuous on paper, manic in reality, enraptured by what she could never have.

Lockwood finds her sitting on the patchy grass of the backyard, head resting against the wall with suspiciously red eyes. He thinks for a moment before sitting down next to her.

“Hey.”

She’s too busy holding back tears to respond. She despairs internally when she first hears his voice, wishing he didn't care enough about her to follow her. God, they were going to make her pay for this tomorrow. He speaks in a low, soothing voice, but there's an underlying disquiet that comforts her. She'd never have imagined him to feel rattled by the press like she did.

"It all happened so quick, even George didn't realise."

"Doesn't matter. They got what they wanted."

"We'll talk to the assistant as soon as she gets here. We'll refuse to work until they clear out."

She feels an overwhelming amount of relief, not just for his help, but just for him. Sitting here solidly, away from prying eyes, rumours and lies, he felt like a precious secret she wanted to keep. The relief doesn't last long until it gets poisoned into grief. She rasps out an apology.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Everything." She feels herself shutting down, unravelling at the seams. But then there's this warmth next to her and a solid, reassuring weight across her shoulders. She shakes with mostly silent sobs, not realising that she's crumpled his shirt from clenching it until later. She sniffles into his shirt like a child, and clings to him with the desperation of a drowning man.

He insists that she sits out for the case, and for once, she listens.

The next time they meet is a little bittersweet. She tells him she's being posted outside of London for a month. It's sobering news, even for him.

"A whole month. Well, it'll go by faster than you realise."

"I hope so."

"How're you feeling?"

"Nervous, I suppose." She was dreading it. She didn't know how she ever worked on a case before Lockwood. At first, she thought it was simply because he took attention from the press off her hands. But there was just something about his presence that made the tension coiled in her body unwind. She tries to keep her tone light, but something must have shown on her face because he sighs and throws an arm over her shoulder, steering her away from the crowd of agents, medics and reporters.

"Don't fret. You'll be fine, trust me. You'll have your teammates with you, Barnes is supervising and you know he can't stand the press, and I've yet to read a headline vicious enough to knock you down for good. You're stronger than you realise, you know." She nods glumly, dragging her feet along. She looks up when he pulls away slightly, frowning at her face. He rubs at the furrow in her brow and she feels her face heat up.

"I said to not fret. You have everything you need." That earns him a weak smile, and though he doesn't look entirely happy with it, he can see George looking around for him. She watches him walk back as he mouths 'one month' to her, trying to smile encouragingly. The sun has started to rise, and the dusk casts a soft purple glow on his hair. She mumbles her response to the wind.

"What if...all I need is you?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The month drags by painfully, but it finally ends. She packs her bags and takes the first train to London, just in time to join Lockwood for a case after a bit of begging at Barnes' feet. The job is at another mansion, but somehow even more extravagant and sprawling than the last one. It's bathed in a soft bubblegum pink glow, spilling out into its lawns and hedges and fountains.

She watches him explaining something to one of her colleagues, making some light sketches on the report. He looks exactly the same if a little haggard, yet older somehow, and it tugs at her heart. She had heard that this was supposed to be the last of a particularly tedious string of connected cases, and it had clearly taken a toll on him. Her heart skips a beat at the boyish glow that washes over his features when he sees her.

"...and for the Limbless George was sa- you weren't supposed to be back till Sunday!"

She flushes, beaming excitedly. Part of her wants to hug him, but another part is too scared to, so she contends with her smile.

"We finished early, and I wore Barnes down eventually. Now, what's this about a Limbless?"

The case goes more than smoothly with the extra help of her and her team, and they end up finishing comfortably before midnight, though not without a few minor mishaps. She finds Lockwood with his sleeves and trousers rolled up, dangling his legs in the pool, scrubbing at his hands.

"Wet cement," he grunts as a greeting, looking peevishly at the not-so-clearly cordoned off patch of wet cement. "Ought to have told us. Someone could have gotten properly injured."

"Oh, who'd be silly enough to fall into that?"

"Let me rephrase that: Quill Kipps could have gotten properly injured."

She laughs, turning to add her own handprint next to his in the cement. She smiles coyly as she tenderly scrapes the residue of her palm. He leans in, then stops, sniffing curiously.

"Is that...smoke?"

"Had a bit of an incident with a salt bomb. Someone threw it in the wrong direction."

"Ah."

They're interrupted by a loud whoop from the other end of the pool. A couple of Fittes boys had broken into the liquor cabinet and were now the proud owners of three preciously high-end bottles of champagne. She tried to look at them reprovingly, but couldn't find it in her.

"Oh well. We'll put that down under property damage."

One of her teammates scurried over to clarify a discrepancy in her paperwork, and she leaves to sort it out. By the time she's back, Lockwood's tie is loosened and he's swaying along to some invisible music.

"Y/N! You've got to try some of this stuff, it's grrrreat!"

She shakes her head bemusedly. "Lockwood. How many glasses have you had?"

"Oh, just one." He blinks at the glass in his hand. "One and a half." He drags her in briefly, whispering into her ear. "Besides, what happened to being young?"

Her heart hammers as soon as she feels the tug on her wrist; she's never even touched him in public before. She scans the scene reflexively, but no one seems to have noticed. She supposed getting drunk and making ill-thought-out decisions was the youngest she could be, so she decided to have a little sip.

"Clink?"

"I don't think you're supposed to say it."

He makes a face, clearly more tipsy than he was letting on. "Whatever. I'm saying it."

Still, she humours him, and he looks at her with shameless adoration. Even while well on the way to getting drunk, there was an endearing tilt to his swagger and rosy cheeks that made his youth a delectable luxury. She takes a sip, then another, and then tries to drown herself in champagne, anything to distract her from the way he stole her breath, the fizz electric under her thrumming skin.

They return to where they were sitting earlier, watching some of the more boisterous agents splash into the pool. Someone manages to switch off the harsh floodlights overlooking the pool, washing everyone's outlines with a tangerine glow from the orange neon lights. They talk about their month apart, then catch the eye of the other in a way that makes them both look away, and the cycle repeats.

"I've missed you."

She can't tell which of them says it first, only that the yearning in her voice mirrored his. The look in his eyes scares her yet appeals to her daring all at once. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to.

"We...I...couldn't. It'd go horribly wrong, and you'd hate me, or they'd double down and it'd blow up in your pretty face."

"I'll take my chances." He says it so casually that it stings.

"This isn't exactly bearable for me either, you know."

The background noise fades away, and suddenly speaking at normal volume is too loud. She whispers, as if he might not hear if she's soft enough. "You give me your bed and twist your neck dozing in an armchair. You stick up for me when I'm too weak to stick up for myself. You pull me in when I'm breaking down and hold my fractured pieces together. I can't help but love you." He follows her line of vision to the camera lens peeking through the wall of foliage, not as sneaky as it was trying to be.

"And if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were in love with me."

He inhales roughly, and she recognises his unsteady breathing.

"Are you...?" Lockwood's voice makes her tear her eyes away from the lens, and focus on his soft brown tired eyes.

"...Might as well. Right?" She tries to hide how badly she needs his acknowledgement. He searches for something in her eyes she's not sure exists. Her heart is in her mouth as he tenderly covers her hand, and suddenly she's sitting at the kitchen table at Portland Row again; unsure and raw and hoping against hope for a love like his. He strokes the back of her hand with him thumb, deep in thought, as if soothing her, or maybe telling her to stop, breathe and think about this horrible decision.

"They'll publish the most horrible things tomorrow."

"I thought that didn't matter."

"Not to me. But it does for you."

"It's worth it. You're worth it."

He closes his eyes, and she watches his eyes shift restlessly behind his eyelids, as if fighting a losing battle. "They'll give you hell for it."

She whispers into his mouth. "Damned if I do, damned if I don't. They're watching either way."

His lips twitch. Her eyes flutter close. She inhales the space between them, their noses softly bumping against each other as they tilt their heads.

Slut.

She leans into him and her lips part as he deepens the kiss. She feels the tangerine neon light burn into the expanse of her exposed skin from her neck to her shoulder.

Slut.

She feels a hand on her lower back as she wraps an arm around his neck, craning her neck upwards. The kiss is equally delicious and bruising, and she feels herself getting drunk on his touch.

Slut.

The pressure on her lips fade and he pulls away, giving her the choice to back out. In the span of a second he shifts from a hazy sunset to the deep aquamarine pool in front of them, and then she's leaning in and devouring him like they could never be close enough.

Slut.

Her mind holds the whisper like a promise.

[enden-k]

Okay okay no this was so beautiful that ramble and i need to continue because firstly, i adore that NGE piano scene, everything about is perfect and i cry everytime at it. Im rotating my boys in my head like neutron stars again and it makes me so happy.

Secondly Shorekeeper and Rover relationship seems really cool and deep. Which brings me to something i noticed abot Wuwa, yes it has certain things that can be seen as fanservice and there is definitly stuff i dont like about the game but i feel Wuwa always gives their character always a certain depth to it. Or at least most of the time. I also just got into it recently again because i needed to kill time and wanted to revisit it for a while and just noticed that even stereotypes i dont normally like are well done in Wuwa. Specifically Lumi (i think was her name). She is this kinda stereo very energetic and cute girl but the concept of mouse and light combined with her character make her still unique in a way which didnt make me instantly recall. Im also very iffy with characters getting on strong with the character having seen stuff from certain games im not gonna mention to bring the topic up. But also just it´s often only annoying and doesnt bring anything to the story, like the game and moments would be the same without the forced romantic tension. But with shorekeeper it all makes sense and wouldnt make the same vibe if the relationship wouldnt be this deep.

Honestly i havent played this far yet, but i dont mind spoilers and saw alot from shorekeeper when she released so its fine. Actually your ramble made me super excited to see it for myself now Yippi To end this. OMG THE NGE PIANO SCENE, MY BABYS I MISS THEM

Im sorry im so not normal about NGE (literally i was such a cliche "omg im literally shinji" kid - not to say thats bad - and it was also my first anime, the first NGE 1.11 movie to be specific)

--🐉

kaworus whole, iconic "i was born to meet you" in every incarnation (anime + rebuild) actually shaped my taste in romance so much AHHAH him waiting years for this moment, for his love, for them to meet again, answering his previous self ("maybe i was born to meet you" - "i really was born to meet you") kawoshin walked YEARS ago before any of my ships and OC pairs even ran ahaahcjk

anw im straying from the topic altho its fun to talk abt nge again auhhhghh, lit grew up w it even tho EoE scared the hell out of me when i was a kid (def not smth u should let your child watch but well, my life was always fucked up so it didnt rlly matter in my case pfpffft)

i cant rlly speak abt the other characters yet bc since i picked wuwa up again i just continued main quest from where i left off last year and did nothing else (companion quests or stuff); also cant remember much anymore from the ones i did oof. also rlly agreeing with u there w the forced romantic tension tho i already babbled abt it in the post before akjbcka

i rlly prefer if theres none or ONLY a little (i just cant stand "harem" types and im still a lil sad kuro had to change their first version of everyone being hostile towards rover at beginning, would have loved that sm) but well, i often just ignore it like with yangyangs onesided crush. maybe having a romance option would be smart and better for the people who want that kinda stuff and the ones who dont want it (like me) to just avoid lmao ah well

if its smth that rlly makes sense and does not exist just to cater to a specific audience as fanservice and rlly is forced and awkward for anyone else, its wonderful. like shorekeeper and rover; or the obsession of scar and camellya which ofc i like as an ~unhinged, yan flavored characters~ enjoyer LMAO

shorekeeper and rover was rlly wonderful and didnt feel forced or shallow. and i just know for those two (SK in particular) i HAVE to avoid fandom forever bc i can already picture one half not getting it at all and whining all like "booo another waifu, wheres my husbands and pretty boyssssss" and the other half being a specific type of cishet dudes and what they have to say and its def not anything from what i picked up in their interactions and behavior towards each other gehhh

[fandom-geek]

continuing on my warframe journey, i've just finished the new war (i was told to play the duviri paradox afterwards so that's next on my list)

my spoilery thoughts under the cut

teshin really was dropping death flags as soon as he appeared at the start of the quest, huh? i'm a little heartbroken that no one mentioned him afterwards - sure, i guess the drifter probably doesn't know him (i've got so many questions abt them), but not even the operator after they finally reappeared? he was being so protective towards them too, and they threw themselves into danger yet again to try and save his life.

the whole quest as a whole was fantastic, though. i loved how cinematic it was, and the whole zariman flashbacks were amazing. warframe is excellent when it does horror, and cosmic horror is no exception.

and the drifter was stuck there for god knows how long? did anyone else survive in their timeline, or did the orokin somehow rescue the other survivors but not them? if there weren't other survivors, then what changed/why didn't the other kids accept the deal (i'm assuming all the tenno did), and if not, where are they? and did the man in the wall offer the drifter the same deal as the operator and they refused, or did it not offer them anything to start with, and why?

learning that mother/euleria was the one who made the educational materials for the zariman was pretty great too. not sure how she'd feel if any of the tenno told her that her voice was one of the last things they heard before the ship became a chaos hellscape (i love how 40k-y the void is), but either way, the entrati are by far my favourite syndicate so far.

that final fight against ballas was great, if a little funny for how much it felt like an abusive dad arguing with his wife while his kid keeps getting in the way. i kept throwing excalibur in the way of ballas' death beam before i realised i was meant to be beating him up in those sections, so it was great to see the operator doing the exact same thing as soon as we went into cutscenes again. either way, rest in piss, good sir. i'm not sure if erra is meant to be dead, either, and i'm really curious to see hunhow's reaction to literally any of this since he kinda disappeared after his quest/the archon hunts to get stalker to revive you if you get killed.

(also. potentially controversial opinion. i do find the stalker kinda hot. i love a character who can consistently hand the pc's arse to them, and i'm pretty sure he's the one we've seen touch the pcs the most. yes, i have notoriously terrible taste.)

i'm also a little curious why you'd pick the drifter for the final quest - they don't really seem to have any personal reasons to be involved (case in point: they aren't even sure of ballas' name, lol). i'm certainly looking forward to finding out more about their backstory, which i've been told is the whole point of the duviri paradox. though i'm a little surprised that ordis and lotus don't seem to react to the operator/drifter switching places - i wonder how it appears to other people.

also rip veso, you brave little fucker. having looked at my newly unlocked quests, kahl seems to have survived somehow, so that's nice. it was great to see the corpus and grineer fleshed out like that, and i'd love to see more of it moving forwards.

[moldypoff]

I NEED TO GET THIS OUT BEFORE SOMEONE BEATS ME TO IT

Crack Mouthwashing AU where Jamboy gets sedated and we give him one of those procedures once Anya tells you instead of Cap’n abt being pregnant (still pre-crash). Or- idk, I mean you and Daisuke (because it’s a crack au and nobody gives a shit)

This is also an AU purely based on a conversation I had with @bananamaxpng

Anywho, this AU will be called

SEA HORSE MOUTHWASHING AU

Is this original? No, technically @bananamaxpng made it but I would like to build on it! (Thank you so much for the idea dude, I dunno if you want to take it seriously and make it your thing but if you do I’ll gladly stop my thing!)

I WILL BE MAKING FANART FOR THIS AU

Random headcanons and OG convo I had with bananamaxpng under the cut

I wanna say it happens somewhere after the birthday party fiasco (I need to refresh my memory on the Mouthwashing timeline)

Things are tense, Curly dearest ain’t really doing much about the growing situation so Anya turns to someone else for help, you!

Good thing your a surgeon or whatever because, oh my gosh, your trained in this really fucking specific procedure

Anyways, you get Curly in on it, he gives you the greenlight, and you fucking get Japist into the Medbay and knock him tf out only to then knock him tf up (terrible wording I need to work on that)

You might be wondering, or not, because it’s pretty staightforward, “Is this legal?” HELL NO. Honestly though? What is he gonna do about it? Tell the police? Listen,

There’s no way he explain that the procedure wasn’t consensual, just like how we can’t prove Anya’s pregnancy wasn’t consensual/an accident

Jimmy can whine and complain all he wants but the company won’t do anything and the law can’t really nail anyone because there’s no concrete evidence to go off of.

For the rest of the trip though I THINK it can be somewhat smooth sailing

Everyone know’s Jimmy’s pregnant, yk what that means

A. He’s suffering, B. He’s bitching about it, C. He has to have a chaperone because he’s unstable and, well, with child, they’re not about to let him do much by himself

His routine is, as of now, consisting of eating, sleeping, bitching, getting checkups, minimal piloting, and- idk, leisure time

I know, it sounds like pampering, I get it, MUCH more than he deserves, but liiiiike, it seems like a fix no? He’s a burden, sure, but he

Can’t crash the ship because he has someone to accompany him all the time

Is kinda at the mercy of everyone because he’s tired, nauseous, ect.

a little dumber than usual (I saw a yt short about this from that one doctor guy, the brain shrinks a bit to help mama, or in this case dada, connect with baby once they’re born)

Will maybe be a better person because good soup (provided by Swansea, he know’s how to take care of someone when they’re pregnant he has kids), physically being at a disadvantage, and kinda being relieved of part of his duties might fix him.

But we know Jimmy, he literally craves power so you bet your ass at the very least he is going to try and tell everyone what to do because he’s WiTh cHilD (This is further down the line, at first he’s still going to try and do things himself but later I’d imagine he embraces it and tries to use it against everyone else)

His is renovating the ship because he is NESTING

Everything has to be cleaned, which is hard because the Tulpar has DECADES of grime to scrape away, if that feet were even plausible

He’s annoying, you can tell him to shut up but I think he’d cry, sorry (lots of stress isn’t good for this motherfather so like, you don’t need to appease him at every turn but try manipulating him into thinking you’re doing something for his sake and he’ll probably zip it then.)

Random note but he’s going to be fairly pretty in this state, something about everything inflating? (Pregnant glow, hair looking fab af, skin being clear af)

But yeah, that’s all I can think of at the moment. When the baby’s finally born- I dunno, chances are Jimama’s gonna give it up for adoption or get Anya to pay for child support/try to get her to take care of him and the kid because he’ll be hooked to pregnant princess treatment lmao (I swear if he becomes those people that keep making babies but can’t bother to take credit of them- we’re tying his tubes, on golly.)

Anywayssss, that’s all, it’s very late and I am very tired, this is poorly written please do not take this seriously.

(Og convo, as promised!)

[lu-is-not-ok]

okay so your post abt Hong Lu NOT smiling in his base ego made me look at it reeeal closely. And Im sorry if it was mentioned somewhere apparently I cant read but what do you think about this statement: in his base ego he is not just chilling out there, he is locked in a room with treasures. And window frame looks like an allegory to jail bars. And I imply locked like literally. As if he was just a jewelry piece thrown to a pile of money and other jewelries.

— Hong Lu simp- I mean shrimp anon

Alright, let's actually discuss Hong Lu's base E.G.O art properly, shall we?

For a refresher, allow me to post the image here:

Now, let's get the obvious out of the way. The bars on the window.

Sure, they could symbolize Hong Lu being locked away in his home by his family... However, there's one issue with that.

Every. Single. Base E.G.O has the bars over the window.

Reminder that All of the Sinners are also All Prisoners. The Korean word used to describe them could mean both Sinners and Prisoners.

So... That lead is a bust. However, I don't think we're quite done here.

There's actually something far more innocuous I want to talk about - the pose Hong Lu is in. Specifically, the fact that he's sitting in a chair.

Only two other characters are seen to be sitting in a chair in their base E.G.Os - Sinclair and Meursault. It might just be the contentless brain speaking, but the fact that it's those three specifically makes me wonder if it's a subtle hint that there's a similarity between them.

Consider the fact that the two characters with a Sloth Core Sin - Gregor and Yi Sang, are also sitting in their base E.G.Os, however they're sitting on the ground instead, with notably dangerous objects scattered on that floor around them (in Gregor's case, it's weapons; in Yi Sang's case, it's shards of glass).

I think likewise Sinclair, Meursault, and Hong Lu being sat down in chairs is meant to symbolize something similar to Gregor and Yi Sang sitting on the ground surrounded by things that could harm them reflecting them resigning to their fates and becoming apathetic to the harm that was being caused to them.

For the three chair-sitters, I posit this idea: they're all people being forced into specific roles by expectations put on them. Sinclair ends up walking on this line between the worlds of good and evil because of societal pressure and Kromer's influence. Meursault constantly acts in whatever way other people wish him to act. And Hong Lu... well, there's his family, isn't it?

Now, let's take a closer look at some other details around Hong Lu's base E.G.O art.

The image in his window is actually quite evocative, in my opinion. It's a massive complex of red-colored mansions atop a stone platform above water, surrounded by nature in the distance. There's this feeling like the mansions don't actually belong in this environment, the red looking bright against the dark greens of the leaves and the pale blue of the sky. Likewise, this image carries a sense of isolation. The mansions are all centered on one stone island in the middle of a body of water, isolated from all this nature.

Is that how Hong Lu felt in his own home? Like he didn't fit in with the world? Like he was isolated from everything that he admired about the outside?

Also, note how important of a motif water is to Hong Lu. On Limbus's own terms, water is closely related to Gloom, due to that Sin representing the idea of Sinking (literally and figuratively) into your negative emotions, and being swept away by them. There's also likely Something to be said about Hong Lu and his motif of water in terms of wuxing, but I don't know enough about that to confidently say anything. Anyone with better grasp on those concepts, I would love to hear your thoughts!

In fact, this isn't the only time water is referenced in this art.

The chair Hong Lu sits in has a very notable engraving of waves and what looks to be a serpent, or perhaps a dragon, hidden among them.

And just like with the water motif, the dragon motif is also repeated somewhere else.

The weapon Hong Lu wields in this E.G.O actually includes a head of a dragon as part of its blade. Something about the way Hong Lu cradles it and the expression he looks at it with is so interesting to me. Dragons are often symbols of power, prosperity, and good fortune.

Is he clinging to it in fear because it's the only thing he has left that is truly his? Or is this a representation of some inner worry that that's all he is to his family, some symbol of their fortune?

Kind of hard to tell for sure at this moment.

Now, I'm about to go on a tangent about a background detail that might not mean much, but stay with me here.

Looking at the riches Hong Lu is surrounded by in this illustration, most of it is things that you'd probably expect. Coins, golden rings and trinkets, various colored gems, chests both closed and open... However, there's one thing in these piles that caught my attention as seeming... kind of odd.

This golden braid looking thing that wraps and winds around the gold piles in the background.

It made me think, because it's a very specific thing to include, and in actually rather sparce amounts as well. There seems to be only one braid, but it goes through the whole length of the background, disappearing behind objects every now and then.

So, I googled if there's any symbolism related to this idea of a golden braid and... I found something interesting. A book called Gödel, Escher, Bach: an Eternal Golden Braid.

I've never read this book, but from what a wikipedia summary says, it's a book that tries to convey the idea of "strange loops". Cycles that continue through several levels, both upward and downward, and always end up forming a closed loop despite those shifts in levels. Recursion and self-reference are important themes to this book.

And... that made me think. Book Jia Bao-yu's nature as a jade stone reincarnated as a human. Hong Lu, seemingly referencing Bao-yu, yet at the same time being seemingly named after the jade itself. Hong Lu's odd connection to death, and this idea of rebirth. The idea of a loop that travels upward, yet ends up back at the bottom where it started.

...I might be looking way too deep into an inconsequential background detail, but this wouldn't be the first time PM decided to mix and match their inspirations and make them into a far bigger deal than it seems to at first. Demian as The Little Prince, anyone?

It just. Almost feels right, you know?