#lance rotten

[qualcosadelgenere]

[quincyhorst]

KOQ HCs: Gareth Barrett #2

Gareth and Friends:

Like I said, because of the low image he had of himself and his struggles at socializing, Gareth spent a huge chunk of his life lonely. But at least things didn't had to be so grim for him.

For example, as a child he soon befriended Clover Fortune, daughter of the family the Barretts served. She was slightly older than him, just by 2-3 years, but that didn't stop on them being very attached to each other. Having a superior similar on age meant an easy way of learning butler skills; but even if Gareth tried very hard to serve Clover she didn't like seeing their relationship as master-servant. In fact, despite not being related by blood nor documents, she considers him deeply as a younger brother.

Aside from the main mansion, Gareth would also have some opportunities to meet new faces; such as in one of the many parties done by the Fortune's and their contacts. Being given the very simple task of serving little pastries to the invitees, that night he stumbled upon a girl who would become his best friend, Sienna Hayley. Being of similar circumstances, the two bonded quickly as both desired to make friends. Since she was a fan of baking, the two soon developed the silly passtime of having tea parties together, even at local school of Oldfolk. The procedure was simple, Gareth would serve the food Sienna would make, giving his friend time to eat by herself. However in many occasions she also offered him to join in too, not wanting to see him just standing there "like a pillar". A bit unusual for a butler, but it at least made his friend happy. Plus, Sienna's muffins are the best!

However, not everyone seemed on par with this idea, as one day both friends were sorrounded by some other Oldfolk students who had no good intentions at all. While Gareth was ready to try and defend Sienna, soon the rascals were scared away by a mysterious jockey that appeared out of nowhere. His name was Dale, and while he didn't care much about the two nor their parties at first, he couldn't stand seeing injustice nearby. With the surprising offer from Sienna to join them in, soon Gareth made yet another friend.

But like shown before, Oldfolk school did not always bring him friends. Although Gareth wasn't a person to make enemies, his cold exterior would give others the wrong first impression. And plus, the closest thing to a rivarly he would had was with the child of the Rotten, Lance. Though it was mostly because the helmet boy often tended to act quite snarky to others, boasting about his ties to royalty, but also specially towards Gareth due to their shared knight naming motif. IN FACT, knowing the tragic fate of the knight Gareth at the hands of Lancelot, this often gave him a sense of superiority, constantly joking about it to the keeper. However, for better or worse, Lance is one of the few people Gareth's not afraid of standing up to.

Despite everything at least, their rivarly never went too far. Specially with both boys knowing a stuff like a fight could damage intensely both the reputation of the Rotten, the Fortunes, and the Barrett all at the same time. Besides, they found a better way to express their rivarly without much harm: Soccer. I'll talk about Gareth's entrance to this sport separately, but let's say that both players are always striving to be better than the other, and often tend to have 1v1s.

However, there's a strange factor that also tones down their shared tensions, and that is... Clover herself. Whenever she's nearby or when she spectates any of OF's soccer matches, Lance's bickering atitude towards Gareth is reduced exponentially. The butler assumes is because she's older and thus more intimidating, but there's times where he notices Lance often staring at her way too much. Just in case, he's keeping an eye on him.

[rocketbirdie]

local lance main won't be surprised if they save the [best] [worst] for last

[p1nk-martini]

WHAT WOULD GOD THINK?!?!

[isacksteban]

only sexy people like lance stroll

[feraltwinkseb]

April 6, 2024 - Suzuka, Japan Source: XPB/Alamy Live News

[morverenmaybewrites]

Jason Todd | Jealousy and Insecurity Headcanons 

“How do they handle jealousy or insecurity?”

I think it’s fair to say at any point post-torture, Jason is just a tangled mess of emotions, and because of his trauma, he often neglects (or refuses) to be introspective with his own feelings. Self-reflection is hard, and it’s even harder when your own psyche is a minefield of terrible memories. 

He can look at a slice of chocolate cake and feel bile rise in the back of his throat, and he’ll jolt away before he could even start to remember that it’s because Joker had served him rotten cake on his birthday 

(If he looks closely, in his mind’s eye, he can see it with startling clarity: the worms wriggling underneath the pale light, so white they looked like shards of bone bone)

(He doesn’t want to remember how, at that time, he had been so hungry that he nearly asked for a bite because nothing could be worse than the empty, gnawing feeling in his belly. He doesn’t want to remember how his mouth nearly watered at the sight.)

And so–just like his reflection–Jason makes a habit of not looking at his own emotions too closely. It’s part of the reason why things like jealousy, envy, insecurity tend to manifest as the emotions he’s most familiar with: anger, disgust, self-loathing.

So, for example, pre-relationship, someone walks into the diner.

(Someone scarless, someone with an easy smile, someone whose past is not so heavy that it feels like a weight on their shoulders.) 

Maybe they flirt with you, maybe they don’t. It doesn’t even have to be anything big to set his teeth on edge because I feel like Jason is, on a fundamental level, jealous of the people around him.

(Jealous of their normal lives, their horror-free past, jealous of their unbranded faces.)

It’s highly likely that he wouldn’t even recognize the emotion for what it is, instead, it will manifest as anger–

(Because anger is familiar, anger is easy, and it is almost as natural as breathing, he’ll accept it without even a second thought.)

It will manifest as self-loathing 

(Because a stranger can make you smile so easily, because a stranger wouldn’t have to deal with his dangerous life, because a simple stranger who walked into the diner is a better fit for you than he ever will be.). 

And because he doesn’t know how to process it, he’ll let his emotions simmer for days, bubbling just underneath his skin. He’ll be quicker to anger, perhaps a little more reckless during patrols. 

(Knuckles cracked and bleeding after a brutal scuffle, lips split where it had smashed against his teeth, and he can’t help but think to himself that this is all he’d ever known, all he’d ever deserve.) 

(Certainly, he doesn’t deserve someone like you.)  

And it will take someone like Dick or Barbara piecing together what’s happening and sitting him down. Maybe Dick, ever cheerful and ever willing to help, who is practically ecstatic at being able to do the Big Brother talk of Talking About Girls with Jason.

Only to be met with an awkward silence, a blank stare. 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

And it will sink in, the knowledge burning like acid in his stomach.

Jason doesn’t even know. 

He doesn’t even know that he’s jealous, doesn’t know the reason for his sudden aggression, his bursts of recklessness. 

So used is Jason to burying what he feels and what he thinks that he couldn’t even identify why he felt so angry, why bile rises up in his throat at the sight of you speaking with someone else.

And Dick would feel a sudden pain lance across his forehead. 

And maybe he’d sigh.

Because it’s going to be a long night. 

[thefunkfactory]

Americans in Paris

The trip had finally made it out of the group chat, the 4 friends had finally reached Paris. It was their first day and the boys had just spent the day gallivanting around the city and were in need of a hearty meal. Going to a little hole in the wall restaurant they were the only ones seated and yet did not receive a single menu. It was so odd to the 4 American college students. They were eventually all given a glass of red wine and a plate of an odd smelling cheese, trying to procure an actual menu. One of the boys tried to flag down a waiter who simply ignored them. Trying and failing once more all but one gave in and just decided to eat the aromatic cheese, at least it was food. At first the taste of the cheese was sour and offensive to their pallets but after only a few seconds of chewing it tasted much sweeter and much more edible. Eventually the boys finished the large plate and asked for another. Upon finishing the second plate of cheese and their wine the boys paid and headed back to their hotel.

Getting up and into their room the boys all rested and one of them called divs on the bathroom. One of the boys, Randy, complained that his feet hurt real bad, the other boys just assumed it was from the day of walking they just did. Attempting to pull his shoe off on his own, the complaining boy told his friends “I can’t get my shoe off! It feels like the shoes shrunk!” Drew got down on the floor as the Randy sat on the end of a bed, pulling and tugging he couldn’t get Randy’s shoe off either. One of the other boy’s came to help Drew and Randy and eventually with the help of the three boys they pried Randy’s shoe off of his feet.

Randy watched as Drew and the other boy Nate recoiled and covered their noses. “GODDAMN!” Nate yelped “EWWW YOUR FEET SMELL SO RIPE!” Drew cried, “Cmon guys they don't smell-,” Randy was cut off as he lifted his own foot closer to him, he raised it to rest on his knee and brought his head down as well, “that…ba…bad…”. Drew was

still backing away but Nate watched, with his mouth and nose covered, as his friend grew concerningly silent. “Randy? You good bro?” Nate questioned, Randy stayed silent and only blinked as a devilish grin came across his face. He lifted his socked foot and pushed right into his friend’s face, Drew struggled and tried to pull his foot away but he succumbed to Randy’s ripe feet only after a few breaths.

Drew watched in horror as Nate’s already shoeless feet began to grow. He watched helplessly and Randy rubbed his stench deep into Nate’s nose, the black socked foot moving back and forth. Gaining his composure Drew was about to run up to the two and pull Nate away when he hastily took a step and a sharp pain shot threw his feet. Falling to the ground just feet from Nate, Drew pried his shoes off in the nick of time, as soon as Drew’s scentless shoes were ripped off Drew watched as his feet painfully inflated. At the same time, Nate was suffering the same fate as Drew and Randy, but unlike Drew he wasn't able to remove his sneaker. Feeling the same sharp pain as Drew just did, Nate’s shoes began to rip at the seams as his transformation had already begun.

In the bathroom the last of the four friends, Lance was washing his face when he heard a knocking on the door. “OCCUPIED!” he loudly informed the knocker, yet again one of his friends knocked on the door, “STOP KNOCKING!” Lance shouted across the large hotel bathroom at the door. It stopped for a second just to begin again this time with more force. Sliding open the wooden bathroom door he was met with his friend Drew who had a dopey grin plastered across his face and his eyes drooped almost closed, pinching his nose Lance proclaimed “EW WHATS THAT SMELL?!” as the stench of the 3 other boys rotten and buttery foot funk began to waft into the bathroom. Turning and walking towards the beds in the other room, the shoeless Drew made Lance look towards the bed to see Randy shoving his nauseating shoe into Nate’s face. As he was shocked at what was happening in front of his eyes, Drew got on the floor in front of Randy and picked up his foot and stuck his nose right into the middle of Randy’s damp socked sole.

Panicking and wondering what has come over his friends, he realized that it must have something to do with the weird cheese his friends all ate. He didn’t have any so while his friends were having their minds melted by their own and their friends putrid masculine smelling feet, Lance was simply getting ready for bed in the bathroom. Trying to help his friends, he ran over to Nate and Drew and tried to pull them away, no luck. The two foot sniffers were pulling away from Lance harder than he could pull them away from Randy. He then tried to push Randy away from Drew and Nate, yet again no luck. Randy sat on the edge of the bed like a mountain, unmoving and sturdy. His final attempt to free his friends had him attempting to push just Nate away. As he pushed and pushed he made no progress whatsoever when suddenly, and without warning, Nate’s body went limp. Collapsing to the ground the two boys laid there, Lance tried to collect himself while Nate juat laid there motionless. Lance was about to lift his head when he looked up and saw a hulking foot coming down towards his face.

Catching a facefull of Randy’s awful scented foot Lance began to immediately lose himself, even though he didn’t eat any of the cheese that the other three had, the smell of Randy’s infectious funk was potent enough to spark Lance’s change. Just like Drew, Nate and Randy, Lance’s shoe began to stretch larger and larger and inside of it his foot began to grow bigger and bigger and smellier and smellier Not before long his foot burst out of his shoe and let off a mild funk. Feeling like he was constantly forgetting, Lance tried to push off Randy’s sweaty foot but kept spacing on why he was trying to remove something that smelled soooo good. While he was struggling to escape and struggling to think, Nate and Drew had moved towards Lance and grabbed his arms, they held them down to the soft carpeted floor and watched as their friend’s body seized as he gave one last major try to escape but he quickly gave in after being restrained. His body stopped struggling and Lance felt as a thick fog sat in his mind, he felt like he was dulling into a stupid foot sniffing moron. His growing feet’s aroma had changed from a normal mild funk to a strong repellent odor. Lance grinned underneath Randy’s foot and by the time Randy removed his foot, Lance was gone, all of them were gone, their personalities and knowledge, their interests and hobbies all now replaced with the heavy, thick fog wafting from their musky, masculine feet and dulling their minds so intensely that the boys lives would never be the same.

[starlos-soulmate]

Never Ever Gettin' Rid o' Him. HAPPY ONE YEAR STARCAKE!!!

Starlo wasn't the only one with doubts pre-relationship, obviously, and this song was too cute to not draw this to. Like after the whole Rotten Star situation, Pancake often wonders why Starlo would even like her, let alone be in a relationship. But to Stars, she already redeemed herself. Shown she is a kind, caring person. And he's still friends with Ceroba. He got his heart broken once, he won't let it happen again, not when she's this amazing.

They also had a private clifftop confession scene earlier. This is cementing, to Pancake, that Starlo does love her. The cliffside was Starlo realizing Pancake loved him, so he's showing he loves her back. And the town finally gets a breath of relief as they finally get together. (more stuff under cut too)

Holy crap. Happy one-year. It's been one year since I've fallen for this cowboy. How do I even title this? I spent so long on this animatic too. (there are some parts that are janky but its my first time making something like this fksdfhkls) it's crazy. This is crazy. I have no idea how this happened, just a year ago today, I got lassoed in by this guy, haha!!

Starlo means so freaking much to me. Like SO much. I sometimes say he's the best and worst thing that's ever happened to me. I thought I was cooked with Spamton. But no, Starlo got me harder, and I love him even more. He was there for comfort, he was there for yearning and pain. He drove me crazy a few times. He means a lot to me. 2024 was supposed to be the year of the robots, till this guy lassoed me in and the rest is history. I love Undertale Yellow, and I love Starlo

I had this idea for this animatic for MONTHS, and I managed to do it, for the anniversary no less. LiKE holy cow! its a bit messy, and i like it. The sardine cat pert does not fit him but i could not edit it out jkldfjs. Ah well. So yeah. Hopefully, despite it's jank, you all enjoy!! aahh its so flustering to watch. aaaaaaaaaaaa

tagging: @lances-wife @aego-philautia @sarahs-malewives @astral-express-family @moxanji-real

@vergils-beloved @dudeshusband @prismatica-the-strange @ghost--girlfriend @pinkdinkydoon

@mandrakebrew @starshakez @rockstars-soulmate @sparkyscissorhands @sparklings-husband

@catships777 @boyfriendblogging @cordshake @mrs-bluemarine @gideongrovel

@francinekisser @kissingarthurclaus @faerie-circle-ships @lenzwideshut

[quincyhorst]

KOQ HCs: Gareth Barrett #3

Took longer with this part in specific, sorry. The whole story was written in a notebook I own, but I only got to pass parts 1 and 2 in post format at first. 😅 But here's the continuation, anyway.

So... How about Gareth and soccer? (As always; contains OCs)

Let's just say the start of this unexpected passion ocurred right into a local Oldfolk party. Some boys nearby were playing a 5v5 match, but Gareth, uninterested, observed them from a little hill. That was until he noticed that one had kicked the ball incorrectly, and now it was going in full speed towards Sienna and her pastry table. In an instant, the butler ran below and dove in to catch the shot. Although he fell flat on his face, him having the ball on his arms was enough to win a round of applause (And a hug from his friend).

It was obvious Gareth wasn't used to this, but at least it made him realize his own potential. Given there were many valuable objects that the Fortune were afraid to lose, the little butler had developed good reflexes in case an accident were to happen; but until that moment he had never thought of involving them into sports. Finding a possible way out of his butler life, well, he jumped right in. His entrance to Oldfolk's soccer team was a surprise, but the team warmed up to him fast specially after proving his worth on the local tournaments.

Plus, being on the team also changed forever the -already troubled- dynamic between him and Lance, but for the best. Both managed to see better the flaws and capacities of each other, and they found a common ground within their love of soccer. And like said before, the two also started to train more together with 1v1s. Thanks to the sport their tension dried out, except maybe when Clover was a topic of discussion.

Eventually, when the FFI happened and KOQ was formed, Gareth got found with the awful surprise of being relegated to the bench. He was quick to understand why the number 1 had been given to such a giant, although he did felt a bit resentful with him at first. However it was Freddy's odd interest on spy stories that would unite them, as McQueen was curious on Gareth's butler job and his high class life (Plus the odd theory that he could be working for the typical villian of a spy film). And viceverse, too, as Barrett had always been interested on learning about those who weren't sorrounded in so many privileges than him and the Fortunes.

With time, Gareth found out that McQueen had actually similar struggles as him. He wasn't neccesarily overwhelmed by prior traditions, but his desire of becoming a spy was seen without importance or as a joke by most of his family, something that made him quite angry yet also unable to do much about it. Besides, similar to Gareth giving wrong first impressions to others due to his cold appearance, Freddy had it even worse, given his "abnormal" height made him look even more intimidating than he actually was. Being happy to know he wasn't alone on this, Gareth soon felt more comfortable with him and KOQ as a whole.

His bond with the other benches wasn't that big, BUT he did find some other friends in the field. I think he'd get the best with Philip, his interest on cooking and friendly attitude being reminiscent of Sienna. And I guess it would be the same with Gary and his baking skills, though their personalities could clash a bit more. Also shoutout to Eric and Paul too. Mainly because of this:

Gareth is their third wheel

...But overall, I guess his relationship with Freddy's had become the most important out of the whole team.

Besides, it's not like his friends back on England stayed there. In fact, they followed him over to Liocott, thanks to Clover inviting them to come. No matter how bad things got for KOQ and Gareth, they always stood for him in the crowd (And even Sienna did got upset over how little her friend was able to play).

As for Lance, well... I guess he's just there. He went more his own way during the tournament, specially with the advantage of no adults around that could make him intimidated. To make things even better, Clover approached him quite few times, so they spend more time together than they'd do at Oldfolk. Gareth soon became aware of this, and while he was nervous at first, he soon accepted it. Then again, let's say that Lance wasn't the only going through new feelings here...

[giuseppe-yuki]

spoiled

fernando alonso x cocker spaniel shapeshifter!reader

w.c.: 2k

warnings: one curse word

part my of shapeshifting!reader series

summary: as nando's precious cocker spaniel, you are spoiled rotten.

picture credits from pinterest :)

*side note- it has come to my attention that the cute puppy in the header is actually a king charles spaniel, not a cocker spaniel, so i apologize for that one. my headers are mainly used for aesthetic purposes, so feel free to imagine yourself as either breed :)

the word “no” was practically nonexistent when you were with nando. 

you want another birkin to go in your collection? here, have three. you felt like pizza for dinner? sure thing. pizza freshly made in italy is being flown in right now. wow, that baby pink aston sure is cute, isn’t it? here’s the keys to a brand new, custom made, db9 that has matching pink heart tire rims. 

it seemed like fernando’s singular goal in life as your boyfriend was simply to pamper and spoil you. when he found out your shapeshifting abilities, he became ecstatic. even more ways to spoil you! 

that’s how you found yourself sat on his lap, twin pink bows tied on each of your ears, inside of the aston martin meeting. mike krack was currently yapping about tire degradation and management, repeatedly smacking a labeled graph with his pointer stick. you usually didn’t accompany your boyfriend to these types of meetings, but you felt particularly clingy today, and who was he to deny your request? ignoring the bewildered looks of the engineers on the spinny chairs around you both, he leans down, presses a kiss to your head, and then combs his fingers through your freshly washed fur, making you sigh in contentment. 

however, mike’s loud voice snaps you out of your thoughts. 

”fernando!” he shouts across the long table, stopping his long spiel. “are you even listening, or are you paying all your attention to your dog?”

all the engineers at the table turn towards fernando, giving him quizzical looks at the canine in his lap. (except for lance, who looked bored beyond his mind picking at his fingernails) he simply just shrugs, still petting you. “eh, what can i say? she’s kind of high maintenance.” 

the aston martin team principal rubs his face in annoyance, but picks up his pointer stick and continues on with his presentation. 

he only gets in a minute of talking before loud knocking echos throughout the meeting room. curious, you hop off of fernando’s lap and pad towards the door. 

“what is it now?” the irritated team principal exclaims exasperatedly. 

the door swings open, almost hitting you, to reveal a rather disgruntled-looking delivery man holding a clipboard that looked like it had a book’s worth of papers clipped to it. you flee back towards your boyfriend in fear. 

“fernando…alonso?” the deliveryman asks, squinting his eyes at the name printed on the top-most paper. when he receives a nod of confirmation, he continues,”i have some deliveries for you, and this stack of papers you have to sign that make sure you have received the parcels.” he then thrusts the board out to nando. 

while your boyfriend sifts through each paper, hastily scribbling his name on each dotted line, the delivery man peers around the room in shock, as if he just noticed the handful of engineers and moderately pissed team principal standing in front of him. the man’s bored demeanor shifts to a more panicked one. “i - um- is this a bad time? should i come back later?” he stutters out, shifting nervously. 

mike crack starts, “obviou-” before being cut off by fernando.

“no, right now is fine- it would be great if you could set up my purchases in my garage as well,” your boyfriend says, ignoring mike’s glare at the back of his head. 

with a jaw-dropping two championships in his racing history, who was anyone to refuse fernando? mike had no choice but to begrudgingly end the meeting short and send the engineers away to analyze the new racing data. 

meanwhile, you sat prettily in the corner of nando’s garage. and no- not at one of the dirty sweat-stained barstools in the garage- your boyfriend would never let you stain your soft fur like that. no, you sat in a plush white satin dog bed in your special curtained off area. 

under fernando’s instructions, a swarm of deliverymen bat away your pale lacy curtains and filter in like a line of ants, one after another. they place box after box on the carpeted floor of your little area. it creates a glimmering tower of designer jewelry boxes and prim monogrammed paper bags. 

after they exit the premises, fernando kneels down onto one knee and wraps you into a tight hug. “you enjoy your gifts, mi princesa!” he points to the sunny outdoors. “i’ll just be outside, overseeing the builders making the new air-conditioned mini house for you, okay?” 

you wag your tail at him, and give him a kiss (lick) on the cheek as a thank-you. 

the second fernando exits the room, lance’s girlfriend pokes her head through the sheer curtains separating your corner from the rest of the garage. 

“hellooooo!” she giggles. “now what do we have here?” 

looking over the pile of assorted bags and boxes on the floor, she pokes a green patterned bag labeled, ‘gucci.’

she jumps giddily after seeing several other matching shopping bags. “i saw the deliverymen come in with fernando’s order, and i was wondering i could-”

you shift to your human form before she can finish her sentence.

“yeah, i guess you can help me open them…” you sigh, rolling your eyes in fake annoyance. 

lance’s girlfriend squeals in glee before ripping open a dior bag. 

“how about this one?” you question, twirling around in your bedroom a haute couture babydoll dress. 

from his position on the bed, wedged in between the plush pillows, your boyfriend rakes his eyes across your body appreciatively and pretends to think for a second. 

“i think-” he pauses for a grand effect- “it looks absolutely beautiful on you, mi amor.” 

even though he compliments you everyday, it doesn’t fail to make your cheeks heat up wherever you hear his praise. 

“why, thank you, nando!” you say, flashing a smile at him.

ducking behind the changing room divider, you slip on a more skimpy stirling green pajama set that lance’s girlfriend had somehow pulled from the stack of clothes earlier in the day.

you can practically hear nando’s jaw hit the floor when you daintily step out from behind the divider, hands shyly held together behind your back. 

“i’m guessing you like this one?” you joke, watching him blink back at you with an awestruck look. tiptoeing over a pile of clothes strewn on the ground and the pieces of expensive jewelry in various boxes, you run over to nando’s figure on the bed and prance onto his lap. 

face inches away from his, you take your hand and physically shut his gaping mouth. 

“speechless, huh?” you tease, tittering. 

fernando looks at you, the pajama set draped over you perfectly (why would it not? he had it custom designed to fit you), new van cleef necklaces hanging from your neck, and celine bangles adjourning your wrists, and he can’t help but think all the money he spent for you was worth it. 

his hazel eyes sparkle with adoration. “what can i say, mi amor? you take my breath away.”

you bat at his chest, giggling, before climbing off his lap and tucking yourself in next to him. like an automatic response, he protectively wraps his arm around you tucks your head into the crook between his neck and his shoulder. 

the twinkling stars, crickets chirping, and warmth of fernando’s body quickly lull you to sleep, but before you drift off, you place a soft kiss on your boyfriend’s stubbled jaw.

“thank you for all the gifts, nando. you’re way too good to me.” 

the next morning, you woke up early to drive to the paddock with fernando. it was race day, one of your favorite days to watch your boyfriend on the track. but, that also meant the swarm of celebrities, media, and fans of all ages that might step on your tail or ruin your little pink bows with their grimy hands. your ever so observant boyfriend took note of this right away and tucked you safely in between his arm and his body in your cocker spaniel form before a speck of dirt from the floor could touch you.

he doesn’t let you down until he arrives in his garage.

along with a couple of engineers, lance and his girlfriend are in there too. lance waves a polite hello to you and his older teammate, while his girlfriend shuffles over. she flashes a shy smile at your boyfriend before opening her mouth. 

“could you please tell your *ahem* girlfriend-“ she gestures to you in his arms- “thank you for letting me open all those gifts with her yesterday. it was really fun!” 

fernando lets out a chortle before nodding, “of course.” 

you let out a bark, as if saying no problem, and give her outstretched hand a lick. 

after your boyfriend peels away from you to go suit up with lance, you and lance’s girlfriend scamper back into your little sectioned off corner in the back of nando’s garage. you both sprawl yourselves on your satin white mini couch to wait for the the start of the race. you had to admit, having a boyfriend that spoiled you rotten was kind of nice. before you can get comfortable, however, the girl next to you practically launches herself off the couch.

“oww!” she yells, clutching her back. “what the actual fuck is that?”

you tilt you head in question, before you spot the offending material on the couch.

it was a swarovski diamond-lined dog collar with alternating green emeralds (you knew the possessive side of nando purposely put that in there to show what team you were rooting for). you laugh internally, before gingerly clutching it in your sharp canines and picking it off of the other side of the couch.

lance’s girlfriend shoots a playful glare at you. “wow…i literally helped you rip open all those boxes yesterday, and this is how you repay me? by nearly stabbing me to death with those ridiculously sharp gems?”

you roll your eyes, but give her a bark to apologize. jumping off the couch, you gently place the collar in front of her. knowing your intent, she bends down and fastens it on your neck, but not before exaggeratedly groaning and clutching her back as she knelt down.

in front of the full size mirror propped against the wall, you admire the way the collar glimmers like stars on your neck. then, the girl in front of you comes up with an idea. 

“hey! we should go show max’s girlfriend your sparkly new jewelry!”

max’s girlfriend is nowhere to be found when you arrive in the redbull garage. ignoring the redbull engineers’ weird looks, you pad through in your aston martin colors with lance’s girlfriend by your side. still, you are unable to locate the girl you had in mind. 

lance’s girlfriend shrugs. “that’s so weird! i wonder if she is still in his driver’s room or something?”

you tilt your head in confusion. she shouldn’t be, as the race was starting soon, so max must be in the garage! making up your mind to find max’s girlfriend, you pad over to the highest object next to you- max’s car. without thinking, you jump up onto the drs flap the back in order to have a higher vantage point. you only realize your grave error when lance’s girlfriend looks at you with wide eyes and nearby engineers let out gasps of shock. 

as if it couldn’t get worse, max walks into the garage with his girlfriend in tow. he scrunches his eyebrows when he sees you on his car. pointing at you he lets out a shout.

“hey! what is fernando’s cocker spaniel doing on my car? call fernando and tell him that’s a €50,000 fine!”

when fernando comes over to the red bull garage to collect you, you bow your head in shame, fully expecting him to chastise you, but instead he holds you close and laughs. leaning close to your ear, he whispers, “good job, baby! i know max will never fine me for you touching his car- his girlfriend would never let him. next time, collect more info on his steering wheel setup and rear wing…they’ll never catch you!”

a/n: jk! one last fic for the current grid :)

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso @my0hmary 

@mbappebby @madkohi @rakshatos @heartsforleclerc @papaya-twinks

[honey-minded-hivemind]

🖤Dark AU, Post Two, Same As It Never Was:

(Warning: This fic contains medical trauma and depictions of wounds and scarring, drugging and sedation, darker themes and implications, mentioned and implied death, and features darker platonic yandere content! You have been warned...)

• It was hard to believe they were back after all this time.

• The flight back home is abuzz with unspoken questions, careful touches checking for pulses, and the steady, hopeful feeling they haven't felt in years. They never thought they'd see their friends and kids again. Yet there they were, calling them in the dead of night from a payphone, then waiting for them to arrive, hidden away... And here they are now, passed out in their arms, their faces peaceful in a way they never thought appreciated in full in the past.

• Magneto holds Pietro, stroking back his hair and holding him close, Wanda checking his pulse and frowning deeply at the scar above his eye, at the dried specks of black and red flecked across his face. The speedster is unusually still, too deep under to stir as his father and sister watch over him. His legs show deep bruises, as though something had hit them, hard... Mystique murmurs to Kurt, rocking back and forth lightly in her seat as Rogue whispers small promises to him. The fuzzy blue teen is limp, not even his tail wiggling or wrapping around their wrists or legs for comfort. The discolored flesh of the scar across his throat is stark compared to his fur, and so too is the dark black-brown staining his shirt... Kitty is beside them, held by Scott, Logan sitting across from them, rubbing her back, and both trying not cry or stiffen when they see the hole in her blouse, nor when they feel the dark, sticky stain around it. Her head is tucked into the crook between Scott's neck and shoulder, his arms hugged tight around her like she might disappear. Logan's free hand is grasping her's, while curled into him is...

• Reader... Their face is too still, their shirt useless to hide or stop the bloody gash in their abdomen. There's dried blood in their hair and across the old worn lab coat pressed against them, dark reminders of what happened. Their arms are scarred, flecked in smears of brownish-red, the wound on their head is still damp, their breathing flutters lightly, as though they're still in pain, even in their sleep... Logan keeps his free arm wrapped around them, pulling them into his chest and stomach, keeping them where he can feel the beat of their heart and hear the rasps of their breathing...

• The tapes they'd all watched... Hours, days, weeks worth of footage, depicting what those scientists had done to their missing kids... Taking blood samples, scraping patches of skin off, collecting DNA and cells, taking bone marrow... not to mention all the extra ones done to Reader, or what seemed to be hours of torture, all meant to tear them down and leave them broken. The adults were barely able to watch the entirety of them, ending up having to watch them with one another just to make it through the upsetting footage. Scott had forced himself to watch the tapes, throwing up and crying when they went darker... Evan had tried, so had Jean, and Lance, even Laura... but in the end, all it left was a rotten pit in their stomachs, sending them searching for any of their friends or parents, wanting comfort, any form of it, to stave off the pain and agony and crushing weight of what they'd seen...

• But it would be better now. It is better now. Their friends, their kids, their siblings, are back with them, they're alive, and they won't be hurt ever again. The jet rumbles as it lands, the panels of the ceiling closing above it and sealing it safely into the mansion. The group is careful, maneuvering their wounded ones so they're held tightly, cradled to them as they exit the Blackbird, working their way into the halls and corridors of the mansion, into the medbay... They end up deciding to keep the kids to two larger room, with cots and medical beds ready and waiting as they're set down. Pietro is set up in the first room, his legs wrapped up carefully, an IV inserted into the crook of his arm, supplying much-needed liquids and medicine. His head is checked for any damage or concussion, the blood wiped up and the scar sanitized, any stitches needed added carefully, sealing shut the remains of the wound... In the same room is Kurt, attached to a monitor to alert the others if he teleports in his sleep. Bandages are wrapped around his throat, a coating of antibacterial cream underneath. Any leftover blood or dried ichor is wiped away, the fur and skin cleaned and smoothed down... Kitty is in the other room, a pillow propping her upper body up. Her wound is inspected, swabbed and sterilized and stitched closed, then bandages are wrapped around the area, a few gauze pads added to soak up any small droplets of blood. Her arms are inspected, a dose of sedative given to help with any pain... Reader resides in the room as well... Their head was checked, the wound cleaned and wrapped in gauze... Their arms were looked over, any scratches or gouges wiped with anti-inflammatory and antibacterial medicine, then wrapped up in thick bandages. The gash in their stomach was stitched up, a bit of blood given, and an IV was inserted, sending heavy drugs into their system to keep them asleep as they healed...

• They visited their children, their friends, their siblings. Magneto and Wanda hardly left him. Erik would sit there, keeping him silent company, occasionally holding his son's hand between his own. Wanda would tell her brother how much she missed him, that things were changed now, she'd even read her books to him, her voice emotional. Lance and Todd and Fred would visit, usually in the early mornings or during the afternoon, telling him to get better fast, like he always used to do, saying they had so many new schemes and powers to show off when was back... Charles would roll in, resting beside Erik, encouraging Pietro to recover soon and that he had been missed each day. He'd check his mind, smoothing away any nightmares or fear, leaving calm and warm, quiet fuzz... Evan and Storm would stop by, late at night, Evan recounting old basketball games they'd played together, or field trips they'd gone on, even embarrassing moments the two had gone through together... Mystique and Sabretooth came by, quiet, wishing him well, saying their nephew would need to recover soon so he'd see all he missed with being gone... Scott and Jean would sit by him, saying that his dad and the Professor were together, making them siblings in a way... even Logan and Rogue would wander in, telling him he would make it, he'd beat whatever had been done to him...

• Mystique and Rogue were beside Kurt, telling him they'd missed him and how proud they were of him, how once he was awake they'd have so much to catch him up on... Logan and Sabretooth would wander in, patting his head and saying he'd always made them laugh... Ororo and Evan and Todd and Wanda would come in, cracking jokes and hoping Kurt heard them in his sleep... Xavier and Hank would read to him, comedies and some of his favorite books from when he had been with them... Magneto would read to him in German, speaking words of care and comfort... Scott and Jean would ask him to wake up soon, to wait a little longer, that it would be worth it... Gambit would pat his hand, saying he and Rogue had taken care of each other while he was gone...

• Logan and Ororo and Scott and Jean and Rogue would take turns watching over Kitty, stroking her hair and telling her they loved her and had missed her greatly, holding her hand in theirs... Xavier and Wanda and Magneto would recount her achievements and best test scores, reminding her how she was so smart... Evan and Lance would visit in the morning and at night, saying she was always a fun friend and that it wasn't the same without her... Laura curled her fingers in her's, frowning but holding it together... Gambit and Piotr would wander in, offering to talk and keep her company when the others were checking on her friends... Hank would teasingly say they'd work on cooking classes when she was up to it, offering a few new books to help...

• And they all took turns with Reader... Xavier and Magneto tended to take afternoon visits, trying to invoke peaceful thoughts in them as they rested, assuring them they had been brave... Logan and Sabretooth took late nights, keeping them company and promising they were wanted... Ororo and Storm took early mornings, thanking them for protecting the others... Hank made sure they received their doses of drugs and sedatives, saying he was glad they'd made it back to them... Scott would visit at odd hours, saying he'd misses them... Jean and Rogue thanked them for keeping Kurt and Kitty safe for as long as they could... Evan came in after his aunt, greeting them and thanking them for looking out for all of their friends, saying they had to wake up... Lance and Todd and Fred tended to sneak in and tell Reader they were glad they made it, how they appreciated them doing everyone a solid... Wanda read to them, reminding them they couldn't leave them, not when they'd only gotten them back... Gambit and Pyro and Piotr would come in, jokingly saying who else woukd they tease if Reader wasn't around...

• The next few days were filled with worry, hope, fear, and joy, all one mixed concoction of battling emotions, everyone trying to believe this was real...

• And then Pietro woke up, and they were all focused, making sure he was alright, keeping the scared boy company, making sure he ate, and soon checking his thoughts and asking questions about what had happened...

• The same happened when Kurt, then Kitty, awoke, Mystique and Rogue and Logan and Scott and Jean and Evan and Ororo hugging them, making sure the medicine and needles were in place, smiling softly and saying it had be so long, that they'd missed them all so much, how they were safe now... They felt bad that all three were scared, shaking, confused, trying to make sense of what had happened and trying to figure out if they were real, and if they were, why they were older...

• "Dad... Wanda... please, just tell me... what happened?" Pietro didn't whine, and he didn't beg, but at this point, he was close to it. "Son, do not worry about it. Everything is taken care of..." "Pietro, you're safe, there's nothing to fear..." He still wasn't convinced... Something was off with their family...

• "Mother! Please, I am fine! But vhy von't you tell me vhat has changed?" Kurt didn't want to worry anymore, but when his mother and sister would dodge his questions, he knew they and the others were hiding something... "You're here, and until Hank says you are well, you are staying here, my son..." "Kurt, it will be okay. You'll be out soon!" He didn't think things were as okay as everyone said they were...

• "Logan... Can't you tell me anything? Please?" Kitty didn't know how to feel about the adults and the others being older and acting so strange, but it made her shiver... "Half-pint, there's nothing to say. Now please relax, I don't want ya straining yerself..." She didn't like this one bit...

• And finally, a day or two after the others, Reader began to wake up... Their head felt fuzzy, soft, and their vision wobbled for a minute... but then they were waking up, groaning at the stiffness in their joints...

• "Sweetheart... We're so glad you're back... Welcome back, little one..."

• Reader somehow knew something was wrong, and it seemed that their and their friends' troubles had only increased...

@sugar-soda @vivid-bun @danni1323 @weebwholovesuchihasasuke @crowwithguns @bloodytea @thewickedweiner @opossumdaydreamz @roxanndrummond @c0ld0utside @foundfamyanderes @ainsellshadewalker

[lance-thunder-reporting-live]

Good morning Amity Park, I'm your ghostly weatherman, Lance Thunder. Today's Sunday, December 15, and there's a 40% chance of rain. Highs are in the low fifties, and the lows are in the high thirties.

Johnny 13 and Kitty, the biker ghosts, were seen this morning throwing rotten meat, produce and eggs at Mayor Masters’s home. Danny Phantom arrived at the scene soon after this began, but strangely, rather than stop the two, Phantom simply watched and laughed. He even joined in near the end. I imagine that later today, when Masters returns from his overseas trip, he won’t be pleased upon seeing the state of his home.

The identity of the Family Video thief has been identified. The thief, Richard Walter, has been arrested and everything he stole has been returned to the store.

The Fentons will likely not be driving today.

[sashaisready]

Feel The Burn: Chapter 11

Lance Tucker x Reader | Destroyer!Chris x Reader

Series Masterlist

Your casual situationship with notorious flirt Lance Tucker comes to a shocking head at a party, fortunately the mysterious stranger you meet that same night is more than happy to help take your mind off it.

Wordcount: Approx 3.3k

Sorry! I know I've been AWOL, been busy with work and *gestures* life. Fully back on the Chris train here, might provide some answers...maybe more questions. As always, thank you for any comments/reblogs - your engagement is so appreciated. Going straight to the jump as it's just smut from the get go lmao:

Chris kisses you hungrily as he presses you into the mattress, the scruff of his beard deliciously juxtaposed with the softness of your own skin. The now-familiar sensation scratches and pleasantly tickles your cheeks, your chin. He moans into your mouth as he practically devours you, you scramble to match his pace as you kiss him back but still can’t quite keep up with his feverishness. Suddenly he’s stripped down to his boxers and your own clothes are removed so skilfully, so subtly, that you barely notice you’re undressed until your bare back meets his sheets.

Rapidly, it’s as if a switch has been flipped, his mouth is all over you – your collarbone, your breasts, your stomach. You feel a flicker of self-consciousness as his lips brush against your belly and so you instinctively move your hands over the softer flesh, but he groans and pushes them away – his eyes boring into yours like he’s daring you to keep any of yourself from him.

It had all happened so quickly, as it so often does with Chris. His easy charm just sweeps you away, you’re swimming and then you’re lost at sea.

…But you’re happy to surrender to his waves.

He’d taken you on that beautiful moonlight picnic, spoiled you rotten with a range of finger sandwiches and snacks as you’d sipped expensive wine and talked late into the evening. It was perfect, serene and intimate. The world had melted away. You wouldn’t have even thought of a nighttime picnic. That was Chris all over, thoughtful in ways that many people just didn’t even consider.

Conversation led to holding hands, which led to kissing, which led to him taking you in his arms and laying you down on the blanket. Full body shivers as his hands swept over your thighs, your bottom, his face buried deep in the crook of your neck. His breathing heavy, like thunder in your ears.

Your trance broken by the sudden memory of where you were. Your eyes darting anxiously around the empty park. You hadn’t spied a single soul since you’d arrived, but that didn’t mean nobody would see you. Anyone could walk by at any time…could be out enjoying an evening stroll, or taking their dog for a walk, and they’d catch you both red-handed. Your body splayed across the picnic blanket; Chris draped across you. You’d felt a faint glimmer of excitement at the prospect of getting caught, but you were too anxious to live like that. The stress of it gave you nausea. You’d so love to be the cool, care-free girl that Chris seems to believe you are, but the version of you who lives like that only existed in your fantasies. It’s one thing to step outside your comfort zone, but you knew your limitations.

Chris must’ve sensed your unease, the way your once boneless form had quickly tensed and hardened against him. He was in tune with your body as much as your mind. He abruptly stopped, pulling you upright and brushing down your skirt.

“Let’s take this elsewhere,” he breathed into your ear.

You’d just nodded, and then a whirlwind of packing up, getting on the back of his bike…the wind in your hair as you sped through the streets. The warmth of his back flush against you, the leather smell of his jacket in your nose. You had squeezed him tightly and closed your eyes as you embraced the moment, the freedom of just existing, of whizzing through the night air. Your mind serene and quiet, despite the busy cacophony of the city around you.

Back to his home, his simple but stylish apartment. Minimalist but not sterile, everything just so – a place for everything, and everything in its place. Tasteful wood floors and exposed brick, sleek white paint. You could feel him everywhere: in the art adorning the walls to the classic car magazines heaped on the coffee table.

And here you were now, stripped and pinned to his bed, almost dizzy with anticipation. You’d waited so long for this, so long to have him entirely. Your head fuzzed as pleasure overwhelmed you. The mishap from before…that was a mistake, a blip. You understood that now, Lance didn’t know what he was talking about. He couldn’t possibly understand a real relationship, where you accept that imperfection is inevitable and forgive each other for making mistakes…

You were jerked from your thoughts by Chris’ mouth, the sudden pressure on your neck shaking you free from your own head and pulling you back into the room. He sucked on the skin with vehemence, his head nuzzling into yours. Then a loud ‘pop’ as he withdrew, and methodically diving back in. ‘Pop’ again, and again.

It suddenly dawned on you what he was doing…

…he was marking you up.

You peered down at yourself as he continued his quest. His love bites trailed from your neck down to your chest and stomach, faint now but likely to bloom brighter by morning. He continued exploring every inch of you thoroughly, planting his flag across your body. Your skin was his canvas, you were becoming his art.

“You like that?” he suddenly asked huskily as he stopped to look at you, his gaze intense. “Seeing me all over you like this?” he ran one of his fingers over a fresh mark, admiring his handiwork. “So you can remember this later when you look at yourself in the shower? Think of me while you’re soaping yourself up? When you’re at work tomorrow…the customers having no idea that I’m all under your clothes like this?”

His commanding tone sent a flush of heat through you. You had never really responded to possessive gestures like this, normally thinking of them as silly masculine posturing, but there was something about the longing in his eyes…the way he carried you so forcefully in the park earlier. You thought about finding those marks after you’d gone…his intent, and the effort it had taken him…it sparked something in you.

Something that made you want to be his…

You’re not stupid, you know this isn’t just about claiming you – it’s sending a clear message to others, too. A message to any other men who might be sniffing around…or carrying you out of ravines…

He looks at you expectantly, but you’re so hazy with lust and excitement that you don’t have the words in that moment, so simply respond with a kiss - which he ravenously returns.

He manoeuvres you again and slides himself down your body, parting your legs with reverence as he plants soft kisses along the delicate skin of your inner thighs. You feel a momentary surge of panic as you remember what happened the last time you were in this position with him, but then his mouth moves lower and not a single thought remains in your head as his tongue brushes against your clit.

You’re practically wailing as he devours you, his tongue and fingers working in tandem as if he could bury himself entirely within you. It feels just as good the second time as it did the first. You fist the sheets and buck your hips as he teases a range of pressures and speeds. It’s not long before your climax hits you, quicker this time than the time before. He must be learning what you respond to, carefully tracking and monitoring your reactions, learning from every heavy breath, every whimper. Your body tenses as you slip over the edge and then all at once you go limp, your head slumping into the sheets as you surrender to sensation.

He kisses your mound gently one more time before he moves back up to the bed over your wilted and spent form, carefully moving your hair from your eyes and smiling at you. It feels pointed, as if he’s telling you ‘I’m still here, I’m still with you, it’s not like it was before’.

You dreamily smile back up at him, your eyes hooded, reaching out and cupping his cheek as your thumb strokes his skin. He looks so handsome in the dimmed light of the room, so perfect. You were right about what happened, it was just a one-off. An anomaly, not a pattern. You were worrying over nothing. Relief floods you and everything suddenly feels lighter.

He made you feel good, so you should do the same for him.

You sit up, reaching forward to palm him through his boxers, feeling the hardness through the thin material of his underwear. Oh, he’s big. Of course he is. He carries himself like a man with nothing to prove, his confidence evident just in the way he walks.

He watches you carefully as you take him out, unable to mask his smirk as you gaze somewhat in awe and fully take him in your hand, marvelling at his thickness. Your lust had dwindled slightly after the knock-out impact of your orgasm but it’s now back with a vengeance. You tug his underwear down his thighs and off his legs and strip him bare, taking a moment to admire him in his full glory. You bite your lip with desire, your eyes trailing his broad shoulders down to his sturdy thighs and beyond.

You move yourself to take him in your mouth, but he stops you with a hand on your shoulder. “Princess,” he says gruffly, “as much as I’d love for you to do that…and I promise I’ll never make a habit of interrupting you doing that in future…I just need to feel you, all of you, right now…”

His pupils are blown with lust, his mouth slightly parted as his hand squeezes your arm. You can see he’s practically vibrating, holding back, just waiting for the starter pistol to go off so he can begin.

You just nod in response, dazed.

And then he’s on you, and you’re on your back. And there’s that fast kissing again that you can’t keep up with. But it all feels good, so good. So right.

He parts your legs, his eyes flicker to yours to check you’re still onboard. You nod again and he slowly guides himself to gently enter you. You let out a loud gasp as the tip breaches, exquisitely dragging against your walls as he pushes himself inside. Each inch feels better than the last, stretching you perfectly until he fully sheaths himself. You babble incoherently, subconsciously rocking your hips.

“Doing so good, princess,” he huffs into your ear. “God…I knew you’d be perfect, you’re so perfect”.

He begins to thrust, slowly at first but working up into a steady rhythm. You’re so full of him that you feel dizzy. The stretch of it almost stings, but in the best possible way. You groan in time to his movements, your eyes closed as you savour every motion. He kisses your eyelids, your cheeks, your lips.

“You have no idea how much you mean to me,” he whispers, “how much better you make everything”.

You’re touched by his words; they light up in your brain like a pinball machine. You could almost cry at his transparency, his openness. Never before had a man been so upfront with you about how he feels. You so badly want to return his ministrations, but you’re too lost in your own body to form words. Your mouth opens and closes, nothing comes out. You frantically clutch at his arms, his back, trying to get as physically close to him as you can with no light escaping between you, hoping your gestures speak for you. He kisses you deeply, he seems to hear you.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, your fingernails burrowing into his shoulder as he kisses your neck. He talks you through it between stolen kisses, telling you how good you are, how perfect, how beautiful. Your clenches and bucking triggers his own finish not long after, he gasps almost silently into your hair as his release fills you. You silently enjoy the warmth of him inside you, relishing the sensation.

You both lie like that for a while, impossible to say how long exactly. Time loses all meaning. You hold each other and embrace the closeness, the quiet intimacy. It doesn’t matter that you’re both a bit sweaty, a bit sticky. This is everything.

He runs a thumb over your chin as he looks into your eyes, “that was…amazing,” he hums.

“Yeah…it was,” you beam back.

“I knew it would be…” he chuckles.

“Yeah…me too”.

“Look, I know we haven’t exactly discussed it…but…” he runs his finger over your chest, almost bashfully. “I’m serious about this, about us. Not to sound like some high school kid but…I want to make it official. You and me, a real couple. Exclusive. Not just dating”.

You grin ear to ear and nod enthusiastically. “Me too, Chris. I want that too…”

He mirrors your wide smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

He chuckles again and seals your agreement with a kiss. You’re suddenly giddy, you feel like you’ve ridden a rollercoaster, your smile almost aching. You reach out and take his hand in yours, squeezing it tightly.

Your boyfriend’s hand.

Your boyfriend.

🏍️

You awake a few hours later, groggy and confused.

It takes a few moments to remember where you are, why you aren’t in your own bed. But then you remember Chris, his apartment, the events of the evening and the declaration, and it all comes rushing back. You smile again, you wouldn’t be surprised if you had been smiling in your sleep.

After making things ‘official’, you and Chris had cuddled for a little longer, then you’d showered together and fallen asleep in each other’s arms. It had been perfect.

You reach for him but he’s not there, his side of the bed completely empty. The sheets are cool, as if he’s been gone a while.

You frown, where has he got to? Maybe he just nipped to the bathroom…but you can see the light in his en-suite is switched off. Huh. Well, he could be using the main bathroom at the other end of the hallway.

You hear a faint clinking noise from elsewhere in the apartment, and then another. The muffled chime rings out in the darkness.

Curious, you slip out of bed to follow the sound. Chris gave you one of his oversized shirts to sleep in, so you pad out into the hallway with it draped over you.

The lights are off in the hall, but you can see a dull halo of light around the door that you think Chris pointed out as the kitchen earlier. You hear the clink again, louder now, and so move closer to the doorway.

You wrap your fingers around the doorknob and open it, “Hey Chris, where’d you go-”

You stop, stunned. Chris sits at the kitchen table in just his boxers, his face pulled into an expression of surprise at seeing you. In his hand is a half empty beer bottle, strewn across the table are four other empty bottles.

Your face screws up with confusion, “are you…drinking?”

You noticed a clock in the corner of the room, the time reads 3.37am. You look back at him, unable to make sense of what you are seeing.

“Princess…” he says quietly, slowly placing the bottle down onto the table as if it were a loaded weapon. “I couldn’t sleep…I was just having a quick beer”.

“At this time of night…?” you snap.

He sighs. “I’m sorry…look, I haven’t been completely honest with you. I…I struggle with my sleep sometimes. It’s a real problem for me”. He looks at you with such vulnerability that it almost hurts to look back at him. You have a strong urge to rush over to and scoop him up, but equally you’re alarmed by everything unfolding.

“I know it’s not healthy,” he continues, “but sometimes a beer or a glass of whisky helps. I don’t do it every night, but it’s the only thing that works. I’ve been to the doctor…tried herbal stuff…everything. Nothing else comes close…”

You point accusingly at the bottles. Your heart is pounding in your chest. “That doesn’t look like a beer, Chris…”

He blinks, looking at the bottles as if he only just noticed them. He shakes his head and holds up a defensive hand. “Oh, baby, no. These are just empties I haven’t taken out from the last week. I swear…I was just collecting them to put in the recycling.”

You look at him, then at the bottles, then back at him. Alarm bells are going off in your head, your mouth pulls into a frown.

He gets to his feet, as if sensing your concern. He approaches you cautiously, as if you’re an animal he might spook.

“Princess, I get what it looks like. And I’m sorry, we had such a good night – I didn’t want to ruin it. I woke up a couple of hours ago and I’ve just been struggling to go back to sleep. I thought if I had one beer, I could get back into bed with you and drift back off…”

You look into his eyes; they look back at you – almost pleading. He seems so earnest, so authentic. Was he telling the truth? It was just one beer to help with his sleep? He hadn’t just been sitting out here drinking for God knows how long? The clinking you heard could’ve been him collecting them all up, that made sense…but still, this time of night? Although you knew how debilitating insomnia could be…

…it also might explain what happened that night, and him passing out on you.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your sleep problems?” you ask, more accusatorily than planned.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry,” he sighs as he plops down back into a chair. “I guess I’m…kinda embarrassed? It makes me sound like kinda, a mess. I didn’t want you to think I was this weird freak of a man who needs a beer to go to bed. Especially as you’re so perfect…”

You scoff loudly. “Perfect? Hardly…”

He smiles, “well, you are to me…”

“Chris…c’mon, we are in a relationship now. We need to be able to talk about this stuff like adults…”

He nods, patting his thigh. You follow his lead and sit in his lap; his arms wrap around you. His touch, as always, is comforting. Grounding. You already feel a little better, clinging to the relief like a glass of water in the desert. He looks down at you and you suddenly notice just how tired he looks.

“You’re right, you’re so right. We were just getting to know one another, and I didn’t wanna ruin it in the beginning. But as stuff got more serious…I shouldn’t have hidden it from you, I’m sorry.”

You sigh, something still doesn’t feel quite right – but you can’t deny it all sounds plausible.

“Alright, it’s okay…but look, first thing tomorrow – promise me you’ll make another appointment with the doctor?” You poke at one of the empty bottles in front of you. “Having the occasional beer isn’t the worst thing in the world, but this isn’t a sustainable habit, or a healthy one”.

He nods, sighing with relief as he kisses you. “Thank-you, princess, I promise I will. I should’ve known you would understand. Not sure what I’d do without you…”

You smile and press your forehead against his. “We’ll figure it out…together. But don’t hide anything like that from me again. Deal?”

He smiles back and kisses you. You can taste the yeast from the beer on his tongue.

“Deal. Now, let’s go back to bed…”

He dumps the last of the beer in the sink, moving the other empties onto the counter to take out in the morning. He takes your hand and leads you back to his bedroom.

Thank God you sorted that out, nipped it in the bud early. You could start afresh with your wonderful new boyfriend. No secrets, all transparency and clear communication. All the things the other men in your life hadn’t been able to give you.

…so why were you still feeling anxious?

🏍️

[rocketbirdie]

thought dump about the mh wilds beta below the cut. I am playing in japanese with english subtitles on PS5; I play solo; I am, to nobody's surprise, maining the lance. Thought and opinions are in no particular order and kind of not fully coherent:

Settings stuff:

Even the largest HUD and text sizes are too small. Not everybody has a huge honkin screen. That being said, the accessibility settings that DO exist, I am very happy with. I was pleasantly surprised to see an option for dark background behind captions, which goes to show just how goddamn low the bar is LMAO

Slightly related: Sunbreak spoiled me rotten by letting me have total control over which HUD elements are on the screen at all.

PLEASE for the love of all that is good in this world, PLEASE LET US GET RID OF THE RADIAL MENU in the full game. I am the #1 radial menu hater of all time and I do NOT want it hijacking my camera movement.

Thank you capcom for letting me use O=confirm in a world where playstation stubbornly adheres to its pretentious little X button <3

General gameplay stuff:

Where are the ridiculous hairstyles. These people all look too Normal. TEETH OPTIONS????

NO MORE GENDER LOCKED BULL SHITT YEEEEHAAAAW

The story and characters are boring as dirt which is par for the course for MH, but man is it a teensy bit embarrassing how hard they're trying to push it.

THE WORLD FEELS SO ALIVE!! I love seeing packs of both small AND large monsters living in their environments. Everything is so detailed and the map is immense, but not so huge that it's completely overwhelming.

Giving the hunter and palicos voice lines is an affront to gog.

Slinger. eeeugh. It's fine I guess, I just would rather not have it at all. I am a cultured hunter who prefers to fling hot dung with my bare hands

Oh Sweet Lord They're Making Me Pick Dialogue Options In A Monster Hunter Game

WHYYYYY with the always online thing? what is the obsession with this from triple-a devs???? "Online single player" should not be a thing, let alone the last option on the list. What happened to just single player. NO I DO NOT WANT TO USE AN SOS FLARE. Hello can anyone hear me

They did confirm that there will be a pause button in the full game. Right? God I hope so

HOOO BOY I hope they do some major adjustments to the Seikret movement in the full release. Even with the discrete analog stick movement setting on, it's so uncooperative at times. HATE how hard the game tries to make automatic movement happen. I want manual control at all times, and auto-running is not the convenience they think it is. Frustrating enough that I found myself avoiding riding the Seikret on some hunts.

I understand wanting to have a seamless open world experience but man... the lack of any strong distinction between hub and quest, and the fact that you don't just automatically return to the hub after the hunt, is really screwing with my head. It feels wrong and not in a "just give it some time you'll get used to it" kind of way.

LANCE:

Lance feels pretty good in this game!! The shield is very reliable even without any relevant armor skills. I love the finishers they added to the end of the classic 3-poke combos. Gives it just the right amount of extra zest without going overboard.

i won't lie though. i miss sunbreak lance's stupid overpowered shield hop -> leaping thrust combo. even if it's probably for the best that it's gone :(

Counterattacking feels off?? Like it's hard to tell when an attack just connected with my shield, there isn't a strong enough punch to it. Is this the "floatiness" that people were complaining about in the last beta test? Because I totally get it.

Also I have never had any trouble in any prior MH game with cancelling out of the dash attack. Why is it suddenly SO difficult to stop dashing. Petty whiny add-on: let me do the shield dash instead pleeeease pretty please

Combat in general feels kind of weird... I think it's because of the emphasis on realism? I'm perfectly fine with sluggishness in my monhun weapons, but this just feels bogged down. Thought I was going crazy until I tried the hunting horn (another main of mine from GU and Sunbreak) and sheathe->normal running was significantly faster than self-improvement's running speed, which is.... yikes............

side note: gypceros is just as obnoxious as he has always been! A+

[sexisbetteronthemoon]

Sex is Better on the Moon - Chapter 23 - Anonymous - Voltron: Legendary Defender [Archive of Our Own]

Bottom lip pinched between his teeth, Lance looked at him, tentative. “Your hair,” he said.  “Let me fix it.” The immediate gut reaction Keith had was to say yes, followed by a sweeping repression that screamed no.  They had spent too much time too close.  Like clay, his flesh was beginning to mold itself to the shape of Lance.  Already, his hands missed the soft skin of his belly, and his chest the warmth of Lance's back.  Even the scent of the damp cave and the whiff of rotten eggs was stronger without the gentleness of the sea in Lance's hair. He was growing too used to having him, and it boded ill for the future when Lance would no longer be there to fill the crevasse in his heart, and his unfired clay flesh would crumble without the support.