#like!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! idk man that just plays on a loop in my head

[killjoy-prince]

Ray's After Ending is so funny because for a good chunk of it, most of the RFA members are knocked out by V's sleeping gas (Saeran is immune, Saeyoung isn't present bc he was kidnapped by his agency under his father's orders and MC wakes up in like an hour) but the game has a call feature where you can call the characters and it would be a waste if you couldn't use it bc the characters were unavailable so instead they have other people pick up the call (Jumin's driver picks up Jumin's phone, Jumin's father picks up Zen's phone, Yoosung's friends and mom pick up Yoosung's phone and Jaehee's coworkers pick up Jaehee's phone) and we do get to learn about the characters from outsider's point of view but it's so funny to me that these people are visiting their loved ones and suddenly the phone rings and they decide to just. answer it. and start talking to this stranger they've never met

[nadvs]

cam girl (part five)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

You were too tired to wake up to your alarm. You snoozed for an extra hour under a mountain of blankets, drifting in and out of consciousness.

When you finally feel ready to start your Sunday, it’s almost 10, and your mind slowly pieces together everything that happened last night.

Rafe has become your sugar daddy. There’s no doubt about it, no other word for it. At this point, you’re sure he’s given you almost ten grand.

You remain lying in bed and pick up your phone to see he texted you five minutes ago. After the $3000 transfer last night, you had quickly saved his number.

Rafe: sore?

You reply: as fuck.

Rafe: you loved it

You roll your eyes. Of course you loved it.

You think of the way he spoke to you, mumbling that you’re beautiful and praising the sounds you made. The way he thrusted into you and called your pussy so fucking perfect. The way his skin slapped against yours with his rough jolts. Remembering it makes your stomach twist with arousal.

You reply: so did you

Your phone buzzes again.

Rafe: send an ass pic

You: are you always horny?

Rafe: pretty much. woke up hard

You: and i’m the needy one… lmao

Rafe: are u sending it or not

You smile to yourself at how bad he wants you. You push the blankets off your body. You had fallen asleep in a cold room, your radiator refusing to come back to life no matter how hard you tried, so you’re covered head to toe under fleece pajamas.

The way Rafe reacted to your heat being broken replays in your mind. He seemed so dumbfounded by the idea that you couldn’t just fix something without worrying about the cost.

Then he sent you the exact amount you need to fix it. The fact that you can ask for however much you want and he’ll probably send it without hesitation still throws you for a loop. It’s an odd feeling not having to worry about money.

Thankfully, the morning sun has warmed up your bedroom. You pull your pants and underwear down in one smooth movement, turn onto your front and angle your phone camera.

You can smell Rafe on your pillow. The aroma of his cologne is so unbelievably nice, memories already connected to it.

You lie on your back again, pulling the blanket over you, and send him the photo, a low angle image of your naked asscheeks. You gaze at your screen, anticipating what he’ll say.

But he doesn’t send any words. Just a picture. Your eyes travel over the bulge making a tent in his black boxer briefs. You can see the trail of soft, light hair that leads down to his cock.

Your body tightens at the image. He felt so damn good last night. You can’t wait until the next time he’s inside you.

You text: wish u were here?

Rafe: i’d fuck u even harder than i did last night

You: you wouldn’t make me wait hours for it? wow…

Rafe: you’re so wet right now aren’t you

You can imagine the way he’d say that. He’s so smug. And so right. You dip a hand below the blanket between your legs, your soft folds drenched.

maybe, you reply.

Rafe: you took my cock so good

You bite your lip reading his words. The photo of his covered erection isn’t enough. You need more.

You: show me it

Rafe: you’d like that huh

You: i can just find some porn if you won’t do it

Rafe: don’t even fucking joke about getting off to some other guy’s dick

You smirk. You got to him like you hoped you would.

You: what? i can’t tease you too?

Rafe: no

You: send me a pic then. u know i deserve it

Rafe: only good girls deserve it

You: idk if good girls play with their pussies on camera… maybe i should stop doing that

Rafe: shut up. ur doing it for me every night

He’s so damn worked up that it’s funny. You shrug to yourself, opening another app, letting him sweat.

Your phone buzzes moments later, a notification from him dropping from the top of your screen.

Rafe: ???

You reply: you told me to shut up. i’m listening

He only texts your name.

You: rafe :)

A picture finally comes in. You take in the image of his dick, glad you finally have a chance to appreciate him in brighter lighting. The other photos that he sent over the cam chat were so dark, but now you can see the veins that run down his shaft, the swell of the tip, his large hand gripping the base.

You don’t think you could ever get tired of it.

You: am i allowed to touch myself?

Even through the power struggle between you two, you love giving him the control of when you can orgasm.

Rafe: if you promise me something

You: what?

Rafe: i can watch you play with your asshole tonight

Jesus. He’s unhinged. When he sent that message telling you that you’ll be doing a lot of new things with him, he wasn’t kidding.

The thought of doing this for him is stirring. None of the other guys on cam ever asked for anything like that.

You: i can do that

Rafe: get the toy i bought you. text when ur ready

You drop your phone and rush to find the vibrator, feeling like you’re throbbing now. When you’re all adjusted, you text him: ready.

Your breath hitches as the toy starts to buzz at a brutalizing intensity. You cross your legs, squeeze your chest, and groan as you think about him.

You orgasm within a minute. It feels good, but not as good as when Rafe is actually with you. With him, it’s a new level of ecstasy. Fuck. He may have ruined masturbation for you.

You pick up your phone.

You: might have to go back to sleep after that…

Your phone flashes a notification of $100 being transferred into your digital wallet.

Rafe: order breakfast for yourself

The amount he sent is ridiculous. What kind of place does he get breakfast from?

You doze off again, waking up half an hour later. After ordering food, you send Rafe a screenshot of the confirmation receipt and text: thanks baby <3

Rafe: did u call about the heat yet

You reply: i will

Rafe: do it now

You: bossy

Rafe: now

God, does he love to be in control. You follow his instructions and find the repair place you called last time and make an appointment to get your radiator replaced tomorrow afternoon.

It’s an unreal feeling - your problem being solved in the snap of a finger. This is a little taste of wealth.

You know not to read into it. Rafe’s not doing any of this of the kindness of his heart. Spoiling you is obviously one of the many things he gets off on. But you’re happy to go along with it. Especially considering $3000 is pocket change to this man.

When breakfast is dropped off, you notice a box addressed to you sitting in front of your door. You open it to find a new webcam. Rafe mentioned he’d buy it yesterday. He moves fast.

The day feels long and at 10 pm, you finally log on with the hope that Rafe will do what he did last night and come over instead of making you crave him throughout your session, leaving you to fuck yourself while fantasizing about him.

You’re wearing the ‘princess’ top you bought with his money, matching with pink underwear.

He joins the session and lust fires through you already.

“Hey,” you purr. “How’s the new camera look?”

figure8: much better

figure8 tipped you $100.

“What’s that for?” you giggle.

figure8: for looking so pretty

“Thanks, baby,” you say. “Is this pretty, too?”

You immediately turn onto your knees, looking back at the camera at the sight of your lace panties stretched over your ass.

figure8: goddamn

You smile.

figure8: you get me hard in a fucking second

“Yeah?” you coo. “Did you like my ass pic today?”

figure8: fuck yes. you ever done anal?

You laugh at how direct he is. You never have to wonder what Rafe’s thinking.

You hadn’t gone into that territory, but something about Rafe made you feel adventurous. “No, but maybe I’d try it with you.”

figure8: maybe?

“Depends on your mood,” you say.

figure8: the fuck does that mean

“I had to cum three times for you the other day. But yesterday, you wouldn’t let me do it for fucking hours.” You shrug. “If you make me wait that long again, you’re not getting anything.”

figure8: its honestly really fucking cute how you think you make the rules lol

“Shut up.”

figure8: im not getting anything… sure. i didnt let u cum all day but you were still begging me to fuck you last night

“I hate you,” you laugh.

figure8: you love me and this dick

figure 8: let me see you squeeze your ass

You’re so turned on already, resting your hands on your ass and kneading the flesh. You roam over your skin, fondling and grabbing, then move your fingers to the back of your thighs and bounce your asscheeks for him with your hands.

figure8: fuckkk just like that

“You like these panties?” you ask. The lace leaves nothing to the imagination.

figure8: i wanna see them ripped off

“These were expensive,” you pout.

figure8 tipped you $500.

figure8: there, you can buy more

“God, how much do you think they cost?” you laugh.

figure8: rip them off right now

You dip your fingers beneath the frilly border of the underwear and try to pull them apart. The lace digs into your skin and you finally hear a tear, the fabric giving way.

You watch your image in the screen, the pink lace pulling apart over your asscheeks.

figure8: shake ur ass

You oblige, arching your back, imagining him sitting behind you, big hands on your waist while you writhe and bounce for him.

figure8: let me see ur asshole

The request is probably the most obscene thing he’s ever asked of you. But you like that he does this, that he pushes you into new experiences.

You’re shaking with arousal as you watch yourself obey his orders, spreading open for him.

figure8: holy fucking shit

figure8: i know you’d loooove it up the ass

figure8: get close so i can see you suck on your finger

You’re puzzled at the request, but you obey anyways, turning to face the screen. You shift closer to your laptop and seductively stick your forefinger into your hot mouth, sucking it with quiet moans.

You’re reminded of how he shoved his finger in your mouth last night. Shit, last night was perfect.

figure8: is it nice and wet?

“Mhm.”

figure8: wanna put that finger in your ass for me?

You bite your lip, apprehension inching up your skin. He seems to notice your nervousness.

figure8: nice and slow, baby. you can do it

You nod, turning to spread your ass for him again, then slowly push your digit into your tight hole. You breathe through the pressure, dipping each inch of your finger in with caution, finding pleasure in the new sensation.

figure8: hows it feel?

“Good,” you breathe. You sit up to grab the lube in your nightstand that you bought when you started camming and sit in front of the camera, opening the bottle.

“You want me to try two fingers?” you ask.

figure8: fuck yes

You squeeze the slippery liquid onto your forefinger and middle finger and get onto all fours, angling your ass towards the camera.

When you slip both fingers inside, you arch your back and breathe shakily. Your eyes squeeze shut as you enter your body in a new way for him.

As hot as it is to be doing this for him, now that you’ve had a taste of what it’s like having his body melt into yours, you need him. This just isn’t satisfying enough anymore.

figure8: u like that?

“Mhm,” you moan. “Maybe it’d be better if I try with the dildo?”

You get the reaction you were hoping for.

figure8: the first dick in that ass isn’t gonna be some toy. it’ll be mine, you understand?

“Okay,” you say, brows furrowed, a tone of disappointment in your voice.

figure8: you want it tonight, don’t you?

“Yeah, baby,” you whimper, writhing in anticipation. “I want it tonight.”

figure8 tipped you $1000.

figure8 has left the session.

You smirk to yourself. It seems like this’ll be your and Rafe’s special version of foreplay. Maybe you’ll always begin with a cam show he pays you for, the same way you two started this wild affair, and then he’ll race over and have his way with you.

You decide to pull off your shirt so you can greet him fully naked.

When you hear his knock at the door, your skin prickles with anticipation. Rafe comes in frenzied, slamming the door behind him, grabbing your face in his hands and pushing you back into your bedroom.

“Already naked for me,” he rasps, standing in the middle of your bedroom, holding you, towering over you. “My needy girl.”

“Don’t make me wait any longer, then,” you whisper.

Rafe guides you onto your bed, hovering over top of you, his lips hungrily kissing and sucking on your mouth over and over.

With your back against your sheets, you roll your body beneath his, the sensation of his jeans and t-shirt rubbing on your bare skin wildly sexy.

You swear you can feel his cock jerk under his jeans and you breathe out a contented sigh.

“What?” he asks, pulling back with his forehead still pressed against yours.

“Your cock is twitching,” you tease, slipping your hand under his shirt to feel his hot skin. You pull his shirt off and toss it onto the floor.

Rafe lifts his body slightly and dips his hand between your legs, making you sharply inhale as he spreads your lips apart.

“And you’re so fucking wet,” he replies, like he’s trying to one-up you. You shudder as his fingers run up and down your slit.

He brings his hand up to suck on the tips of his fingers, hard eyes on you, and you feel like you might lose your mind over how hot the shared moment is.

“You taste so good,” he says, voice rough. He comes back down to kiss you hard, then shifts to put his mouth on your tits.

You jerk when he grazes a nipple with his teeth, a moan spilling out of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling him pinch and grip you.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk,” Rafe says against your cleavage. “You want that?”

“Yes, yes, please.”

“My good girl,” he praises. You hear him fumbling with his jeans, the zipper slipping down quickly, and he plunges into you with no warning, with such a rough blow that you whimper.

You feel your body swallow his thickness, stretching to adjust to his size. He curves into you so perfectly.

Rafe pulls back and rocks into you again, your body jolting with his pressure. His chest is pressed against yours and he shifts to the side to put his hand at your throat, long fingers around your neck.

He squeezes gently, still pounding into you.

“Tighter,” you whisper.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says with a breathy laugh, like he can’t believe that you exist, that you’re taking him like this.

His fingers tighten on the sides of your neck as the sound of smacking flesh fills your bedroom. You grunt with every heavenly pump he gives you, his balls swinging against your ass.

“You take it so good,” he breathes. You tilt your head back, letting his big hand grip your neck better. You’re so grateful he didn’t torment you by making you wait this time.

“Get on top,” Rafe groans into your ear, drawing out of you. “I wanna watch you ride me.”

His hands find your hips as he helps pull you over him. With your palms against his firm pecs, you sink onto him, his cock hitting a new angle.

“Fuck,” you choke out. “Oh, my God, Rafe.”

“You like that, huh, baby?” he says, dimples framing his cocky smile.

You start to bounce with your legs bent and framing his torso, leaning forward so your clit rubs around the base of his cock. The feeling of him filling you and the friction against your sensitive spot makes your eyes roll back in your head.

Your heart starts to pound harder as you massage yourself with his dick, grinding at the perfect pace. You look down at him, meeting his blue eyes, as you roll your hips so you can feel him in every possible way.

You dip your head, panting and moaning as he grips your hips. You’ve never wanted to scream from pleasure so badly.

“I know, princess,” he drawls. “I know it feels good.”

The waves of pleasure are so damn nice that you moan and cover your mouth with your hand so your neighbors don’t hear how loud you’re being.

Rafe roughly grabs your wrist and pulls your hand down.

“Don’t do that,” he instructs.

“My neighbors-“

“Let ‘em hear how much you love this dick,” he says. You feel like you could cum from his words alone.

“F-fuck,” you stammer, grinding faster and harder. “Oh, fuck.”

“You gonna cum?” he teases. A part of you is afraid he’ll push himself out of you, delay your orgasm.

“Please let me,” you whine, “please, baby.”

“I’ll let you,” Rafe says with an amused chuckle. “God, you’re my fucking dream girl.”

The pleasure spikes in you so damn high that you feel your limbs go numb. You cry out as you dissolve into pleasure in its purest form, continuing to ride him as the orgasm hits you, tightening around him in pulses.

“There you go,” he says soothingly, encouragingly.

You bend over on top of him, resting your cheek on his chest, hearing his heart. Rafe’s warm hand strokes up and down your back as you spasm on top of him.

As your gasps slow down, his hands find your ass. He jiggles your cheeks in his hands and you giggle breathily.

“You gonna let me cum in that ass?” he asks you.

“You can cum anywhere you want,” you breathe, feeling cockdrunk. Rafe’s chest rumbles with his laugh.

You sit up and slowly pull yourself off of him, his hard cock bobbing once it’s out of you.

Even though you’re sure you already made his cock wet enough, you hand him the bottle of lube before getting on all fours on your bed. You look back at him to see him slathering his cock with lube.

“I’ll go slow, princess,” he promises. “I’ll stretch you out first.”

You squeeze your pillow and place it so that you can sink your face into it as he fucks you. With your head dug into the soft cotton, you feel Rafe’s big hands grope your ass.

He spreads your cheeks apart and groans.

“Every part of you is so pretty,” he huffs. “You gonna take my cock in any hole I want, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you moan, muscles still weak from your orgasm.

You feel a finger slowly enter you and you arch your back, eyes squeezing shut. It’s so new but so fucking nice. The pressure is higher than when you did it on camera for him, his finger bigger than yours.

“There you go,” he coaches as he pushes deeper inside of you. “Shit, it’s so fucking tight. I’m gonna cum in a second, baby, I know it.”

“Fuck, Rafe,” you mumble. “It feels amazing.”

He adds a second finger, working in and out to stretch you out some more. You push back against his fingers to encourage him to go deeper.

“I want to fuck your ass so hard right now,” he groans on the verge of a whine.

“Do it,” you say. “I’m ready. Do it.”

His fingers pull out of you and you feel him spit on you, warm saliva dribbling over your opening. Finally, you feel the tip of his cock start to push into your ass.

The pressure stings as he buries into you and you try not to slump, you try to stay firm for him.

“Oh, my God,” he moans as he fills you. “Fucking… Oh, my fuck…”

His raw, untamed rambling gives you a sense of willpower to stay still and ignore your body’s impulse to pull away from the unfamiliar pain.

Rafe finally presses his base against your ass, filling your hole up completely.

He retreats, giving you some relief, then pounds into you again. The feeling is a good pain as he starts to thrash in and out, his fingers so tight on your hips that you know he’ll bruise you.

He pulls away a hand and you suddenly feel a hard smack on your ass that makes you gasp. He keeps fucking you hard, plunging in and out with a frenzied pace.

“You like it, princess?” he says between breaths. “You like it up the ass? I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yes,” you groan, the feeling pleasurable now that you’re getting used to it. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

“It’s not just your pussy that’s mine, is it?” he taunts. “It’s your ass. Your mouth. Your tits. All of you. Fucking all of you.”

His claim of ownership on you is so fucking intoxicating that you almost forget all this is supposed to be is hot, casual sex.

You push away the thought, refusing to let it ruin things. This is just fun. This is all this is.

“Goddamn, and you were just…” he groans as he keeps fucking you. “You were just… fuck, just always around and looking so fucking hot. I never thought I’d get to fuck you.”

You bite your lip at his words, lost in the feeling of a man wanting you this bad. Of Rafe wanting you this bad. You knew he loved to tease you, but shit, he was yearning for you this much whenever you came to clean his house?

“Oh, fuck…” Rafe’s deep voice gives out as you feel him pulse his hot cum into you, his body jerking against you.

He eventually slowly pulls out and you feel his hand slowly rub over the curve of your ass.

“Stay like this,” he says. “I wanna watch my cum drip out of you.” Just when you think he can’t get any filthier, Rafe surprises you. Every damn time.

Once he’s satisfied, you feel him plant a kiss on your ass before he shifts away to put on his underwear.

Your smile is slack as you drop onto your side, hand resting on your forehead. You feel utterly fucked out. He didn’t lie. You won’t be able to walk tomorrow. You watch his chest rise and fall when he lies down next to you.

Again, Rafe surprises you that he’s staying, even if it’s just a little while. He seems like such a fuck and chuck kind of guy. It’s what you expected. Kind of what you welcomed.

He looks at you, amused by how hard you’re gasping for breath.

“Damn, you won’t even need your heat on tonight, huh?” Rafe says. “Gave you a whole fucking workout.”

“If it’ll be like this every night, I’ll cancel,” you joke lazily.

“Cancel?”

“Mhm,” you say tiredly, eyes closing.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean?” you whisper.

He says your name stern enough that you pop open your eyes.

“I’ll cancel the appointment,” you clarify.

“They didn’t already fix it?”

“Tomorrow was the soonest they could do.” His brows furrow in what looks like anger. You can’t help but chuckle a little. “What’s the big deal?”

“So, you spend another night cold?”

“It’s not that bad,” you say. “I have lots of blankets… and…” You yawn. “A space heater… and… my pajamas…”

You realize you’re lying on top of a thin sheet completely naked but you’re too exhausted to care that you’ll wake up cold. It’s like Rafe fucked the energy out of you.

“I have to lock the door behind you,” you remember. You sit up, rubbing your eyes so you stay alert. “I don’t know if you realized but this isn’t a gated community.”

“Should I… uh, do you want a hotel room or something?” Rafe asks.

You look at him, his head on your pillow, his hair a mess, and offer him a confused smile.

“Hotel?” you repeat.

“If it’s gonna be cold in here.”

“Oh, that radiator has broken a million times,” you say. “I’ve survived a lot of cold nights. I don’t need a penthouse suite.”

Rafe gazes at you with an indistinguishable look.

You feel a bit awkward now. You know he’ll leave eventually, but if he doesn’t do it now, you’ll pass out and he’ll leave the door unlocked.

You stand to keep yourself awake, finding a clean pair of underwear and an oversized t-shirt.

“Same time tomorrow?” you try to joke.

“I can stay and…” he says. He sits up, his hair falling over his forehead, his stomach flexing. “Uh, I can… hold you. If you want. So you’re not cold.”

You stand in the middle of your small room, looking down at Rafe, and can’t help but notice how out of place he looks. His large, half-naked frame on your small double bed, his expensive clothes drawn out on your squeaky, scratched up floor, offering to cuddle you to sleep.

This is supposed to be purely sexual. You’ve been having fun and adding to your bank account, while letting him live out his fantasies to sexually and financially dominate the help. That’s all you are to him: a depraved cam girl who cleans his house. Right?

But now, he’s acting… well, nice. Like he’s not just a fuck buddy who gets turned on by giving you money and buying you things. And it’s unexpected.

You’re not sure what to do.

{ read part six here }

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Hiii I love your stories so much! I have no real plot in my mind but all I can think about is Frank Castle in a Practical Magic setting. Like idk I feel like this broken sad man would be so good with that vibe.😭

a/n: i just rewatched that movie a few days ago!! this isn’t that exact premise, but it has the magic, the vibe, the soul, and hopefully your heart ♡ 

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“Per terram et aquam, aerem et per ignem, hoc tibi praecipio, sana vulnera perfida, et quae infracta sunt corrige, et hanc animam de morte capias salva.”

The incantation had been a hefty loop on your lips, whispered just beneath your breath as you continued to clasp Frank’s limp hand in between your own. 

Tears threatened to roll down your cheeks as the memory of how Curtis had shown up with him at the brink of death and begging for you to save him where his own skills wouldn’t reach, flashed in your mind once more. 

Laying sprawled out on your dining table, the gentle wind from the nearby open window played with the flame flicking on the tip of the candle that was lit above his head. A line of dirt curved all the way around his body, only to be broken up by the bowl of water by his feet, as well as the fire above his crown. 

It wasn’t till the night was nearly through and the sun began to threaten its return that it worked. 

With a painful gasp of air, the deep brown eyes of the man on the table snapped open. A violent cough tore through his form as you finally ceased your chant. 

“Holy shit,” Curtis jumped in his seat, swiftly rushing to the side of his friend, “it actually worked!” 

Still in a coughing fit, Frank’s vision darted around as he uttered, “what the fuck happened, where–,” but then his wild eyes landed on you, “…Y/n?” 

Unable to let go of his hand even though it no longer was needed, your heartbeat thumped in your ears as you breathed, “hey…” 

Pulling up his stethoscope, Curtis began to do a swift exam as he filled in, “Frank, you almost died, or well, you kinda did for a second there before I managed to get you here, get you to her,” he gestured up to you. 

As he glanced back over at you, the words that flowed from your lips were nearly too quiet for his ears to pick up, “I told you I’d repay the favour one day.” 

He didn’t say a word, only stared back at you, utterly stunned as he struggled to process everything. Though when his gaze flickered down to look at your hands still tightly enveloping one of his, you finally noticed it as well and nearly dropped it like a hot piece of coal as your cheeks were set ablaze as well. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[gilverrwrites]

idk if this is too weird or dark but I’ve been thinking about Arkham Knight Jason and Slade ruining Jason’s replacement by brainwashing her or feeding her Ivy’s aphrodisiacs, so every time one of them walks in the room, you’re ready to please them. You learn to automatically open your legs or get on your knees when you hear heavy boots approaching wherever Jason’s keeping you. Jason films a lot of it too, like when Slade will find a spot on the floor and you’ll immediately move to straddle him, grinding a little as you lean down to suck the old man’s tongue.

Related posts: one, two, three, and four.

WARNING: NON-CON/DUB-CON, brainwashing, corruption, degradation, spit. Just, these two should come with one of those toxic waste symbols on their heads.

Oooohhhhhhhhh, Ivy’s aphrodisiacs but not telling/gaslighting you into believing it's all on you, you just want them so fucking bad. You're lucky to have them to take care of you. Your body isn't betraying you, it just knows better. It's your base instincts telling you you're not meant for heroism, you're meant for fucking these nasty, dirty men.

That's why you feel so flushed whenever they're in the same room as you, that's why you can't help opening your legs and bucking your hips when they look your way, that's why just the graze of their gloved fingers on your cheek makes you cry in frustration, makes you beg for more.

"You should be so fucking grateful, letting you ride our dicks." Jason likes to taunt, with his face buried in your bouncing tits, finger in the flesh of your hips. "Where would you be without us? Still at Batman's beck and call. Waste of a perfectly good slut."

There was a time when you would kick and scream whenever you were even left alone with Slade. He used to tease you, threatening to bind and gag you, knowing full well he much preferred the thrill of the fight, preferred taming you the hard way. Now, now he just whistles and you're at his feet like a good little bitch in heat.

"I don't think a minute goes by where you‘re not thinking about this cock being inside you. Is that right?" He'll coo as he holds you steady, cock pulsing in the back of your throat, making sure you choke on him until tears are streaming down your pretty face. When he finally lets you go, you know to say 'Yes, sir." If you want him to keep using you.

Also, anon, I gotta say, the image of Jason filming while you grind in Slade, sucking his tongue, fingering his silver chest hair, just being a good girl for that filthy old man is sending me and has been since I read this like WHAT.

Jason jacking off to the whole display, spitting the vilest shit while you grind a stain into Slade's pant leg with your disgustingly wet pussy. “You like that, you needy whore? Old mans barely even touched you and you're creaming all over him.

Feels good, right? Letting your body do what it wants, take what it needs?

Oh just you wait ‘til I get my hands on you baby, you're not gonna know a word that isn't ‘fuck’ and ‘please’ by the time I'm done.”

Slade doesn't even care when Jason calls him an ‘old man’, not when you're sitting pretty, drooling on his fingers and begging for a good fuck.

"You look so good getting fucked like that, pretty girl." "She feels fucking good, you like that don't ya?" "Yeah! Yeahyeahyeah yeah, please don't stop." "Oh, don't worry, you nasty slut, I'm not stopping anytime soon." "Now smile for the camera bat-brat, this is going out to all of Gotham. Say 'Hi Batman!' Ha, blow him a big kiss baby."

And you're so fucking out of it from the pheromones or just, the euphoria of being bent and twisted and praised and degraded and railed just right, or whatever reason, that you do exactly that; With Jason's fist in your hair, his spit on your face, a smile on your lips. You flutter your lashes, waving limply into the lens as you say 'H-hi Batman! MuWAH!'

Shit, what if when they're not around they have all the footage Jason took playing on a loop wherever they're holding you. Intermitted with clip/photos of you pre-capture To remind you of how far you've fallen.

[steddiealltheway]

Idk where this came from but anyways

It's May 28th, and it's pouring outside. It's the type of rain that makes the housewives of Hawkins want to curl up and read a book, but instead they're yelling at their children to stop playing in the puddles and come inside. At least that's what Eddie imagines as the rain soaks through his clothes, drops clinging to his eyelashes and falling down his face - he desperately wishes they're not tears.

He doesn't know where he is if he's completely honest. He's been walking for a while now, trying to avoid those puddles but giving up when his socks become soaked just from being out in the storm. He kind of wishes he was home, but simultaneously wants to be anywhere else.

A car drives by him on the backroad and comes to a stop a few meters in front of him. It's almost comedic, the way the car comes to a stop then very slowly starts to reverse, as if the driver is talking themselves into whatever they're about to say to Eddie.

"Need a ride?" the driver asks.

Eddie brushes the wet hair out of his eyes and finds Steve Harrington of all people looking at him in concern. He scoffs. "I'd rather take my chances out here." Which is the exact moment that lightning strikes close enough that Eddie can feel the ground shake. It would be kind of metal if he wasn't shaking.

"Get in the car, Munson," Steve insists reaching over to push open the passenger side door. Eddie keeps walking. With the way the rain is pouring, he's surprised he's able to hear Steve curse under his breath.

The car slowly drives next to him, right window down causing the rain to likely soak the interior of the car. He doesn't know why Harrington cares so much. "I'm not going to leave you alone until you get in."

Munson raises an eyebrow. "That sounds pretty creepy, Harrington. You're not exactly helping your case." He treks on forward, hoping that Steve might take the hint and leave him alone. He hears the car come to a stop, and he's prepared for Steve to turn around and come back from wherever he came from.

Instead, his car door slams shut. Eddie glances to see Steve walking towards him. Eddie backs up. He's not threatened per say, but it's a natural response to whenever he sees a jock stalking towards him.

"What are you doing?" Eddie asks.

"If you're not going to take up my offer on a ride, then I'm walking with you."

Eddie doesn't know what to say, but he lets Steve walk alongside him. It's... weird, but weird in the way that it doesn't feel weird. It's almost like it feels... right. Eddie shakes his head. "Why are you doing this?" It's not like he knows him. He doesn't think he's exchanged a single word with the man until now.

"Maybe I needed the company, too," Steve replies. Eddie wants to argue that he doesn't want company, and he certain doesn't need it, but saying that feels like a lie even in his head.

They get a few more steps in before Eddie comes to a halt. Steve turns to him and waits. Eddie gives in with a sigh, "Let's go to the car."

When they get in, Steve reaches into his back seat and snatches two towels, handing one to Eddie before he wraps one around himself. Eddie is too afraid to ask why he had them in the first place.

They drive for a couple minutes without talking, but Eddie isn't one who can sit in silence for long so he asks, "Shouldn't you be at Tommy's end of year party or whatever?" He's certain he had heard people talking about it for weeks falling on this particular day.

"He and I aren't exactly friends so no." Steve doesn't give any further explanation, and there's no hint of regret in his tone. Eddie has no idea when that had happened but is glad to be out of the gossip loop of Hawkins High School.

"Okay, so go to Wheeler's place." Eddie wasn't far enough out to not know about the supposed power couple.

"She broke up with me, called our relationship bullshit, so I don't think that's really an option."

Okay, Eddie is officially not in the loop. This time he can hear the tightness in Steve's tone, and he tries not to dwell on the small voice crack that accompanied the word "bullshit." He glances over to see Steve's hand flex on the steering wheel, knuckles white. He feels almost bad for bringing it up, so he changes the subject. "Where are we going?"

Steve shrugs. "Anywhere that's not home." It's a simple statement but the weight of it makes Eddie want to ask a million questions about what could be so bad about the Harrington residence.

But everyone has their own shit they're dealing with, so Eddie agrees, "Anywhere that's not home." But a few minutes later, he knows exactly where he wants to go, was probably walking there without even realizing it. "Turn left here," Eddie requests, and Steve follows without question.

A few turns later and Eddie is asking Steve to park on the curb. He hesitates to glance out the window, the image outside makes his stomach churn. Steve glances to his left and takes his keys out of the ignition. He climbs out of the car to Eddie's surprise and leads their way into the cemetery.

After Eddie finds his ability to accept reality, he leads the way to the tombstone he tries not think about. Steve takes in a sharp intake of breath next to him as Eddie freezes and stares at the grave.

Elizabeth Munson January 13, 1947 - May 28, 1973

"I don't know why I wanted to come here," Eddie says honestly staring at the name and thinking about how his Uncle Wayne has been locked up in his room like he is on this day every year - flooded with the thoughts of his baby sister. "It's not like I can talk to her," Eddie mumbles out.

Steve asks, "If you could talk to her what would you say?"

Eddie freezes at the thought. What would he say? He speaks without thinking. "I'd say I miss her. That I love her even though I've nearly forgotten what her voice sounds like. That I stole her bottle of perfume after they found her, and I need to ask her what scent it is because it's nearly run out." Eddie chokes on a sob, not realizing he had even started crying.

Steve reaches out and laces his fingers between Eddie's as he continues. "I'd apologize for flunking my senior year but insist that I'm trying not to be like Dad. I'm really trying. I'm trying so hard, but I feel like I fail every day. I'd tell her that Uncle Wayne misses her and was a wreck without her but still managed to raise me. I'd probably scream at her though. Ask her why she ever went back when she promised she would stay sober for me. She'd promised..." he trails off with a sob, and the next thing he knows is Steve Harrington is pulling him into his chest, cradling him as he cries.

It's fucking embarrassing or it should be, but Eddie needs this more than anything in the world.

"I remember her," Steve says softly, voice straining. "She used to read at the library before..." Before she went back to Eddie's dad once he got out of jail, and he gotten her hooked again. Before she broke the promise she had kept for years to stay sober. Before her body was found by her own brother after a young Eddie had told him she had been sleeping all day.

"She was so kind to me," Steve says breaking Eddie out of his spiraling thoughts, hand running through his hair and gently untangling the wet curls. "She would sneak an extra candy for me any time I saw her. And I would always beg my mom to stay longer because Ms. Munson was the only one who did all the voices right. And she would get so loud while jumping on the reading chairs with the biggest smile on her face, not caring that the librarian was shooting her the most annoyed faces... You remind me of her, really."

Eddie's stuttering breath evens out as he remembers being in that same library proudly watching his mom and her theatrics. She had always been so unapologetically herself, and Eddie has wanted more than anything to be just like her. He squeezes Steve tighter and chokes out, "Thank you."

They stay like that for a while, Steve holding Eddie while he cries until he can't anymore. Both of them reciting the tales of the great Ms. Munson recalling the time she had accidentally knocked over a bookshelf when imitating a ballerina in the children's book she was reading. Eddie had never known that Steve had been there almost the whole time, but it's nice to finally meet someone whose memories of his mom aren't from the last months of her life.

It has stopped raining when Eddie pulls away from the embrace. He's sure his eyes are puffy and red and there's definitely some of his snot on Steve's polo soaked in water and tears. But Eddie finds that Steve's eyes are similarly glossy and pink, and for some reason it's endlessly comforting.

Steve asks Eddie if he's ready to go, and Eddie looks at the grave one last time before nodding. Steve intertwines their fingers and leads the way back to his car. The drive back is relatively quiet, but Eddie relaxes in the silence. Steve reaches over and holds his hand again which makes Eddie's chest tighten.

He wonders what's back at home for him, and what happened to change King Steve and make him so overwhelmingly kind and caring. But he doesn't ask, not wanting to stir up the memories of what he's trying to run away from.

As Steve pulls into the trailer park, Eddie easily directs him in front of his home. Steve parks the car and gets out before Eddie can say goodbye and pretend like this never happened for Steve's sake. Instead, Steve pulls him into another hug, but he buries his head into Eddie's neck, and it feels like he needs this more than Eddie does.

So, Eddie takes his turn holding him. Running a hand through his extremely soft hair which has him relaxing further against him. He pulls back reluctantly after a few moments and says, "Thank you."

Eddie isn't entirely sure what he's thanking him for when Eddie should be thanking him, so he replies, "Thank you."

Steve lingers in his space for a few seconds longer before squeezing his arm and giving him a smile. Eddie waves goodbye and walks back to his trailer, finding Steve waiting to make sure he gets inside okay. As he hears the car drive off, he wonders if maybe his mother sent Steve Harrington for him that day.

[jamorbital]

Mailbag III ✉️

Wow, there were a bunch this time. Thanks everyone!

@theloramir:

Me! 😷

If that doesn't count… Hmm. Cynthia from Pokémon? Or maybe Tifa?

@scout90-again:

I've been interested in it for as long as I can remember. Even when I was really little, I liked to tie up dolls with string and put pieces of tape on their mouths. A bit more on that in an earlier ask here.

(MORE UNDER THE CUT)

@noteverysaurisadinosaur:

Uhhh... I'm gonna say... Golden Toad. I like Dodos too, but I'm guessing that's the "everything but country and rap" of this question.

@directivexero:

Aw thanks!

Lately I've been slowly making my way through The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles! I play it in bed each night to settle in before I go to sleep. It's like a good book. The fickleness of the jurors always makes me laugh.

Another recent one I liked: Thank Goodness You're Here! It's basically a little interactive animated movie. Matt Berry is in it. I once saw it described as "Untitled Twat Game"

Deadly Premonition is the worst game I've ever played by conventional standards, but I'd still recommend it because it's bad in really fun ways. Bring some friends and a case of beer.

I like games that provoke a strong reaction. I'd rather play something like DP than a "good" big-budget game that's smooth and pleasing but not all that memorable.

Also on the topic of weird games: This is the secret best channel on YouTube. The more you watch, the better it gets. I mean idk, maybe other people don't see it and I'm just deranged. Still though. I've cried laughing at some of these.

@patientbard:

Summer! Lots of happy memories from childhood. I like to swim.

@nixalegos:

I don't often try to go for a specific texture, but when I do it can be tricky. In real life I love soft jersey knit fabric. Despite my best efforts, I haven't been able to nail it in 2D in a way that really scratches that kinky itch.

In general, my drawings rarely come out the way I pictured them in my head. (I think that's how it is for most artists?) If it's looking really off then I might redraw a character or body part from scratch, but for the most part I just go with the flow.

@accretion-disk-anxiety:

To eat, crab; to not eat, turtle.

@damianblack:

I'm not really into furries, but I like furries as people. They seem like fun and I admire how welcoming and liberated their community is.

For a while I've had "draw an anthro character" on my bucket list. I think it'd be a fun challenge and drawing a gag for an anthro snout could be hot tbh.

@onidrills:

What was that thing from Jurassic Park with the big neck thing and the venom? Dilophosaurus?

Aw man...

@goodboynijian:

Thank you!

For proudest: Maybe animation loops?

They're not as elaborate as some other stuff I've done, but seeing an animation come together just feels so satisfying.

For hottest: I gravitate toward a certain weirder type of piece where I draw myself (or "myself") with super-exaggerated proportions and/or humiliating captions:

It feels exciting to just go totally off the wall. I get turned on not just by drawing these, but also posting them. I guess it's kind of a public humiliation/exhibitionism thing. (Actually, that's exactly what it is.)

I used to put them up on Twitter, but it got a little too weird and embarrassing. Now I keep them behind the safety of the paywall.

@t-oppenheimer:

Smash if that counts! I used to attend locals weekly and was decently competitive at my peak. I stopped going in 2020 due to covid and never got back into it after that. I still play with friends here and there though. I'm a Wolf main. 🐺

I've also done a little SF6, but I'm still in The Cursed Zone on that one.

@microfoamgaglover:

Yes

(old pic!)

Thanks again to everyone who sent in questions! I'm feeling better now than I was this morning. If I didn't respond to you, it just means I couldn't think of anything interesting to say. I appreciate it all the same.

[em-harlsnow]

em idk if ur still doing those tiktok trend requests but my god the "can you watch my boyfriend real quick?" trend is making me SCREAM, i think you would have fun with that one! 💗

hello!!! yes i am still doing it whenever I see one I like. I love this trend, it’s so funny!

Ian may have tiktok, but he’s not very social media oriented in general. Mickey gets nervous when people post pictures of him online anyway because of the cartel, even though Ian’s like 90% sure they won’t see Carl’s twitter with 11 followers.

But then there’s a trend he sees, and he can’t not do it. He just has to try it on Mickey and if that means forcing him in front of a camera, so be it. It’s not like he’ll post it.

Mickey’s eating breakfast in the kitchen when Ian sees the trend and it’s the perfect opportunity. He clicks onto his camera app and starts recording, propping it up in front of Mickey on a candle and making sure he can see that it’s filming.

“Fuck is this?” Mickey asks with his mouth full.

Ian ignores him, instead speaking to his phone. “I need to go out for a bit, can you watch my husband?” He says, smirking, and tussles Mickey’s hair when he starts to leave.

Mickey waves his arms around, clearly confused. “Where the fuck are you going?”

“Grocery shopping, don’t turn off the camera.” Ian calls back, half way out the door.

“Is this some kind of freaky role play?” He hears Mickey yell after him, but he’s already gone.

//

Mickey’s husband is an idiot.

Once he’s gone and has neither confirmed nor denied that this is a weird role play thing, Mickey glances suspiciously at the camera.

“What the fuck?” He mutters to the empty apartment. “He’s a fucking weirdo.”

He continues eating, finishing his cereal but it’s weird being watched by Ian’s stupid phone.

“Uh… I’m eating my niece’s Froot Loops.” He tells it, holding up his spoon to show the camera. “Ian says I eat like a twelve year old, but Ian eats like a 90 year old so he can’t fucking talk.”

The phone doesn’t reply, just records him silently.

Mickey sighs, tapping his fingers in the counter. “Why’s he always got me doing shit like this?”

He makes eye contact with the camera and glares at it. “This is stupid.” Blowing out a breath, he tries to figure out what Ian wants him to do with this. As he does, he twists his ring around his finger and it gives him an idea. Slipping it off, he presents it to the camera. “See this? This is our wedding ring. We got it engraved last year. Fuck, Ian’s gonna love that I’m talking about his stupid sappy shit. Mine has IG on the inside and his has MM, because he’s soft as fuck.” Even as Mickey mocks him, there’s a shining happiness in his eyes.

Something else catches his eye, and he gets up to grab the flower bouquet on the kitchen counter, bringing it over to the phone. “Look. I got the asshole these. Blue roses. I think they’re fake or they were painted or some shit, but still.”

He sighs again, wondering what else he can show the camera. “I’m tryna find out what he got me for my birthday. I figure he must have hidden it somewhere around here but i can’t find it. Ian won’t tell me.” Mickey leans in close then, whispering at the camera. “Between you and me, I think he’s got it stashed at Lip’s house. But I got it covered, I’ll find it. I got a plan-“

The sounds of keys turning in the lock interrupts him, and he looks to the door guiltily. When Ian comes in, they grin at each other and then Ian kisses Mickey’s head.

Addressing the camera, he says, “I hope he was well behaved.” And then stops recording, watching Mickey roll his eyes.

“What was the point in that, man?”

Ian shrugs, and looks forward to watching it back.

—> send me a tiktok trend and i’ll write a fic!

-> also let me know if you want ian’s reaction to the video

[grand-theft-carbohydrates]

sorry for being super late to the zhuge liang time-loop party but image we're several iterations in and our boy kongming is sitting in his little mountain hut waiting for liu bei to show up like he always does but this time sun zhou yu turns up instead

oh ho this is a hilarious concept! this is the enemies to enemies timeline we all need. i think it would make more sense for lu su and zhou yu to turn up, because of the simple reason that sun quan is a duke at this point and can't leave the palace for such an extended period of time vs liu bei the one-horse warlord.

ok, the timeline needs to be super fucked up at this stage in order to bring these two togather, because in the alpha timeline even though kongming was fairly well known as a genius hermit, he hasn't done anything so extraordinary at this stage that it warrents a personal visit from the two most powerful people in the southland.

i think we can do this by making him kinda new to the whole timeloop thing, and he accidentally/on purpose reveals some future events in order to get liu bei to find him faster, and it ends up backfiring.

picture this: kongming is sitting in his thatched hut, tears in his eyes, heart all a-flutter, waiting for his beloved leige lord to turn up, and the servant is like "master, there's three important men at the door" (idk who the third guy should be but it's a nice round number. maybe huang gai?) kongming: !!!! "ok, I will play some music to set the mood. i was rude last time by falling asleep and i want to make a good impression."

not even 3 bars in and a VERY familiar voice calls out "you're flat."

kongming is so fucking outraged that for a second he forgets to be surprised because that was ONE HALF-STEP DOWN, ASSHOLE!!!! YOU trying getting reincarnated and deincarnated several times over and then meet your soulmate (he called liu bei that irl, look it up) and see how steady your hands are, asshole!!! god, this is just like wei wuxian from my danmeis...

then it dawns on him that none of the peach garden trio have musical literacy. he runs outside, takes one look at the three men in his courtyard and is like "well, this timeline is a wash. aight im gonna go out back and bash my head in. on second thought, i should do it here and freak zhou yu out. suicidal existential despair is no excuse not to troll zhou yu."

but the afformentioned takes this opportunity to stroll into kongming's bedroom, and starts tuning his qin (not a euphamism) without permission. kong ming says passive-agressively, "i see you're quite adept at tightening another man's strings" (not a euphamism), zhou yu replies "a neglected instrument is like a neglected soul" (not a euphamism), "are you offering to duet?" says kongming through gritted teeth to which zhou yu replies "oh don't worry, i can see you're out of practise so i'll be gentle and take it slow," (not a--) and it's at this point lu su grabs huang gai by the elbow and goes "wow, what a nice bamboo grove! the two of us are going for a walk! a nice LONG walk FAR AWAY in the BAMBOO GROVE for THIRTY TO FORTY MINUTES! see you in THIRTY TO FORTY MINUTES!"

huang gai: i literally spent 30 years in the army you don't need all these euphamisms.

lu su: LALALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE SCENIC RUSTLING OF THE BAMBOO!

*insert that scene from Flirting Scholar where zhou yu and kongming start fighting, they roll under a table, there is a brief skirmish, and they come out with their clothes swaped. they are playing doubles on a single qin the entire time.*

[aluria-sevhex]

so now i'm in Act 3 i guess

notes:

-methinks Siffrin is panicking

-plot twist: you can't escape the time loop until you deal with your... ???

-no you little bitch don't pretend everything's fine that's not good for your mental health

-YOU *KNEW* THIS WOULD HAPPEN??? FUCK YOU LOOP

-i'm not giving up you little shit

-ok Loop what IS your deal. you *asked* to be here???

-ok i need to help Mira with her mysterious papers

-:O A HINT AT ODILE'S FIELD OF STUDY

-the music is more unnerving than it was in Act 2. also it sounds glitchy now

-oh it's normal now. was i just suffering from an actual audio glitch and just. didn't question it? like "oh yeah ofc it's glitching things are fucked now"

-...that enemy didn't spawn down here in Act 2.

-eh ima get off for the night

-late in the evening on July 4th and i am back yippee this is probably a bad idea considering how long my play sessions get

-YEAH THE TITLE MUSIC MY BELOVED

-ok i can't help Bonnie on this loop- HOLD UP. DID SIF'S ART CHANGE IN THE MENUS? YEAH HE'S NOT SMUG ANYMORE ToT also i think their profile used to say "It's you!" with an exclamation point but now it says "It's you." with a period :(

-rip my darling blorbo Paper α V

-side note: idk if i've mentionwd this before but i like how the levels, stats, and skills all show the fact that you're near the end of the journey (ex. Odile having Rock, Paper, and Scissors III at the start)

-I FOUND THE BOOK BONNIE WAS LOOKING AT.

hmmm... death rituals...

-hehe i found the stostorage roomoom

-NONE OF THESE BARRELS WILL LEMME TAKE THE NUTS >:(

-another book in the headache-inducing language i can't read.

-weird shit going on: Siffrin, Loop, the King, the disappearing island, the headache-inducing shit

-hehehe yeah Isa i'm sure you'd *love* to pet your taciturn hopeful-future-partner

-it's not just the menu art i think Siffrin's battle art is also less happy. :(

-HOLD UP. also! Siffrin's profile used to call them the Traveler but now he's called the Wanderer. :(

-hehe. Sif hit the counter and said nya again. cat Sif

-this enemy ALSO did not spawn on this floor before. fucking giant hand thing

-ok thinking: can't help Isa until i've helped everybody else in one loop, can't help Bonnie on this loop and i need to prove i know them via their favorite foods, need to help Mira and Odile...

-thank you Loop for being available- OH I CAN BRING UP THE SADNESSES BEING DIFFERENT :O

-ok need to help Mira with the papers. some are in her dorm. Odile wants to read a familytale. i'll have to find one in the library or secret library. need to find out Bonnie's favorite foods by trying different ones. maybe i should loop forward a bunch to different areas, find out their favorite foods, and THEN do the big loop where i help everybody!

-i need to talk to the King eventually

-looping forward to Floor 1's end

-fun fact i'm keeping track of all my causes of death in another note. i'll share it when i finish the game

-man i also need to figure out how to help Mira's fan and remember where the last book issue is...

-the looping screen art is nice :]

-yeah yeah i need to beat this asshole to get to the snacks

-hold up. the coin fell on heads this time. strange...

-last time i picked plantain chips. this time i'm picking cookies. would probably be good to check what Bonnie eats each time

-ok they like rice. time to loop forward!

-while i'm on Floor 2 i might as well find a familytale for Odile...

-LOOP 24? THE MATH DOES NOT CHECK OUT.

-WAIT THE GAME ACKNOWLEDGES IT. HUH. YEAH I SHOULD BE ON 23. SIFFRIN IS SUS 𐐘

-fuck. i accidentally moved forwards when i meant to go to the library. it's fine i'l help her when i help everybody

-oh great i have to fight these assholes again.

-fuck. i think i fucked up and didn't make sure Mira had Pretty Moving Cure. i might get a game over.

-this is by far my dumbest death

-LOOP 27??? I WENT FROM 24-27

-gonna try to be less liberal with loop usage because the skipping is kinda scaring me

-aw... Siffrin's friends try not to touch him as they squeeze through that's nice... wait. he seems to not be remembering why. did he forget that they don't like being touched... maybe. maybe i should call Loop.

-well that was unhelpful

-time to adjust the memories i have equipped. welcome back my lovely scrimbly blorbos Lovely Moving Cure and Paper α V

-hm. ok so the boulanger in Dormont has a familytale...

-oh my god we're discussing colors. what happened to them.

-THEY STILL EXIST. BUT WE FORGOT HOW TO SEE THEM. ???

-*SIFFRIN*. HOW IS THIS FAMILIAR. JFC YOU ARE SUS

-plot twist! Siffrin is from our world and forgor that he got isekai'd! :P (i love making random bullshit predictions it's very entertaining)

-oh yeah so RE: Siffrin's altered art: Sif's time-frozen portrait used to look panicked but now it looks calm

-hehe openphrase123 worked

-love Sif's habit of picking up random shiny shit. magpie or crow behavior.

-oh? Siffrin didn't always hate croissants?

...bruh.

-also damn shout-out to Mira's crisis over not knowing some of the people

-the combination of Siffrin's silly attack names and serious battle portraits feels so *wrong*

-:o Sif learned a new skill

-ok i'm gonna log off for the night

hey if you wanna read all of my posts as i play through ISAT, they are all tagged as #Aluria plays ISAT for the first time (please don't spoil)

bruh when i was making this post i accidentslly pasted the notes again there instead of pasting the tag name. that truly was. delightful. to go through and delete it all

also shout-out to those of you who i keep seeing popping up in my notifs liking these posts ;) and also anybody who takes the time to read all this stuff :D i know that *i* like seeing other people's reactions when they experience stuff i like for the first time so i'm very happy to provide that for others! also it's nice to see some of the responses ^-^ :D

[osaka-lilac]

Asking you to kindly elaborate on the strollonso football au:

hello raapija my beloved, i would love to elaborate <3

for those out of the loop, refer to my tags on this post!

warning: i am an american with a incredibly basic understanding of footy ("soccer"). there is a reason the actual talk of any gameplay is basic and limited

fernando is this new guy to Lawrence Stroll's footy team right. (because in every universe, lawrence has to own a Team.) i can imagine he's some draft pick from spain for a new striker or something like that. possibly some trade, maybe a mid-season exchange (they do that in american football but idk if they do that in footy) those who know specifics of positions in footy please let me know your thoughts on what position fernando would play

lance: couldn't give two shits about footy. he's seen maybe once in a blue moon on the sidelines tagging along, and he's known for being visibly bored or on his phone during matches. (he has the Pout Blast 3000 for this.)

the reputation he receives from fans is much like the perceived impressions he gets irl: some spoiled kid who shouldn't be there. he's more into hockey than any match his dad's team could ever play.

now when fernando shows up its like a fucking slap to the face. like. "holy fuck i didn't think they could be this hot" type beat.

for the first time, lance shows up to a team practice with his father, not just a match. but he's really not there for the team: he is enamored by fernando. his speed. he's a sly yet devilishly handsome fucker with this wicked grin when he knows he's tricked his opponent yet again, and lance is obsessed.

not only does he start going to way more matches. he also starts showing visible interest and gets invested. and he gets loud. the mumbles online about his "spoiled reputation" turn to joy. he becomes a meme of the team for a few weeks after a clip of him getting frustrated after a poorly-called card is given to fernando ends up going viral.

and maybe this entire time, fernando has been watching this young boy from afar. he totally believes he can't be with his literal manager's young son and jeopardize his spot on the team and a shot at glory. and maybe he believes that lance initially isn't interested. but maybe when he sees lance become more invested in the team, he figures he might have a chance. he just can't figure out why lance has become so invested in what was, quite frankly, a very short amount of time.

so maybe fernando's on the side for a while in a practice. lance is there, but he seems distant. not in the game. not really watching the drills by the other players with much enthusiasm. and fernando's a smart man. and he puts some pieces together in his brain. and makes a move.

he comes up to lance and asks to talk with him once practice is done. when all the other players are gone. in the locker room. of course lance agrees

flash forward a bit. n lance is like. hanging out by the exit outside of the locker room. he counts all the players. and when there's only one left. he goes inside. finds fernando sitting on one of the benches, still in his kit.

they get to talking. what lance does outside of being at games, (i can imagine him being a student but i don't have the will to kin assign him a major right now), what his favorite hockey team is (habs. of course) and of course, the loaded question:

"lancito, what's gotten you so interested in the team now?"

of course, lance doesn't really respond to this, kinda dances around the question. he gets flustered. he doesn't want to be found out. what if he sees right through him, what if he already knows, what if he tells his dad??

fernando leans in slightly, and slides his hand over lance's hip. he cups his chin softly, and slowly turns lance's head to look at fernando straight on.

"be honest, niñito."

and when has lance ever been anything but honest.

[n0cturna1-m3]

He's Charming | Alejandro Vargas x Male Reader | SFW

Fem/Minors DNI

Warnings; Somewhat graphic violence, spanish with no translation (go fuck yourselves (/j ily)), a little suggestive at the end

⚠️ i used yandex translator ⚠️

Request; Alejandro Vargas X Top!Male Reader who also speaks fluent Spanish and Alejandro slowly starts to fall for him.

A/N; I lost the file once and it made me blow a fuse so this is take 2 where i lost my patience so the use of accents is minimal, lmk if i should look through and add them back.

2 (Sequel)

If you'd like a part 2 with more development (+ smut bc it says top!m and i didn't wanna just go too fast idk) let me know! i'd be happy to do so.

2.3k words

Pulling the strap around his leg tighter, Y/N lifted his head away from his gear and turned to the door as it opened. Gaz walked in and slapped him on the shoulder with a big smile.

“Y/N! Good to see you, man!” Y/N smiled at him and gave him a playful shove, standing up and giving him a big hug. “Hope we didn’t keep you waiting long.”

“No, not at all, Y/N said. Y/N and Gaz had been friends for many years, going to school together in their youth and joining the force together. They were like a package deal.

“You ready to go?” Gaz asked, walking towards the door that led outside into the stifling heat. Y/N nodded and followed him outside, crossing his arms over his chest. There was a car waiting outside, Gaz took up the driver's seat while Y/N got into the passenger side, closed it, and buckled up.

The drive to the base was spent catching up, blasting music, and laughing, being met with Price on arrival. Y/N and Gaz got out of the car and walked toward the Captain, him extending his hand towards Y/N and taking it.

“Y/N, it’s good to finally meet you. Gaz talks about you often,” He said, shaking Y/N’s hand firmly.

“Likewise, Captain. All good things, I hope?” Y/N responded, placing his hands on his hips. Price laughed and shrugged his shoulders before turning around.

“Follow me, the guys are inside. You should meet them.” Price walked towards the door while Y/N and Gaz followed. The room they walked into was spacious and old, worn down. There was a table with a few men sitting around it playing cards, going in order and placing one upside down.

“Queen,” A man with a mohawk said, putting the card on the stack at the centre of the table.

“Bullshit!” The man next to him yelled, a wide grin on his face as he watched the other take the deck.

“You hackit bastard…” He muttered, glaring at the deck in his hands.

“Alright boys,” Price spoke, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. The men turned to look at him, two standing and walking over, the others following suit. “This is Y/N L/N, goes by Bobcat. He specialises in close combat. He will be working with us from here on out, so get to know him.”

Y/N gave them a half smile as Price moved to sit at the table, pulling out a laptop and a few folders.

“Call me Soap,” The mohawk introduced himself, extending his hand and shaking Y/N’s. “This is Ghost,” He said, pointing to the large man standing a few feet behind him. He had a mask on that covered his face, his eyes being the only visible feature. Y/N nodded to him.

“Colonel Alejandro Vargas, a pleasure to be working with you, Bobcat.” Alejandro shook his hand and gestured to the shorter man next to him. “This is my second in command, Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra.” Rodolfo shook Y/N’s hand. Ghost had sat next to Price to speak to him about the mission.

“What’s with the nickname?” Soap questioned. Gaz started laughing and Y/N punched his shoulder.

“Don’t you say a word, Kyle,” He warned, Gaz looking up at him with a grin.

“It’s actually quite a funny story! There was an incident where he-”

“Cállate!” Y/N smacked the back of his head. “I’ll rat you out if you’re not careful, pendejo.” Gaz stopped laughing and narrowed his eyes at Y/N and scoffed.

“You speak Spanish?” Alejandro asked, catching Y/N’s attention.

“Sí, the woman who took me in when I was young taught me,” Y/N said. Gaz glanced at him and grabbed his shoulder, shaking him roughly. “What?”

“Bobcat, I’d like to give you a debrief about the mission and get you familiar with the plan,” Price said, standing up from his seat and walking over to Y/N.

“Alright. Lidere el camino, Capitán,” He responded, following Price into a room off the side. Shelves and boxes were lining the far wall, a small kitchen on the right side, and a table in the middle of the room. Price gestured for him to sit, Y/N doing so while the Captain turned on the kettle and rummaged through a cabinet.

“Do you drink coffee?” He asked, pulling out two mugs and two instant coffee packs.

“Sí señor. I take it black.” Price readied the mugs and turned to face Y/N, leaning on the counter while he waited for the water to boil.

“Let’s get down to business. We are going for a man by the name of Alexander Stadt. He has been smuggling illegal arsenals from here to a port in Germany, and from there to Czech.” He grabbed a file from the counter next to him and tossed it in front of Y/N on the table. He skimmed through it while Price continued. “Civilians have begun to get involved, and consequently silenced for stumbling upon the trading. We have located Alexander at a base not far from here.”

The kettle screamed when it reached its designated temperature. Price turned around and started making the coffee. “He jumps between places, so our window of time is small. Tonight would be best to do the operation. Capture or kill.” Price turned around and walked to the table, setting one mug in front of Y/N and taking a seat in front of him.

“So what’s the plan then?” Y/N asked, flipping to the next page with details on Los Vaqueros. He stared at one of the photos and eyed the printed words beside it. The handsome man from earlier. Price started talking again and Y/N looked up, the details for Y/N’s place in the mission unfolding. “I’ve got my work cut out for me…”

Y/N followed Alejandro closely, peering over his shoulder when he stopped and raised a hand.

“See something, Colonel?” Y/N asked, glancing around. Alejandro pointed to a man standing at an open window, leaning out and smoking a cigarette. Y/N let out an ‘ah’ sound and walked over, Alejandro grabbing his shoulder and trying to pull him back.

“What the fuck are you doing, pendejo?” He whisper-yelled. Y/N shrugged him off and walked under the high window, glancing up at the oblivious man who was speaking to someone behind him. He turned his head to look at the person and Y/N reached up, grabbing the cigarette from his fingers and stomping it out. The man turned back to his smoke after the other had left, a confused look on his face at the lack of it, and leaned out the window to see if he dropped it.

“What the…” He muttered, eyes blooming wide with shock at the sight of Y/N staring back up at him.

“Smoking is bad for you, don’t you know that, credo?” He chastised, grabbing the man by the collar of his shirt and tugging him out the window. He hit the ground with a thud, dirt kicking up around him. Y/N crouched down and grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling his head up and slitting his throat with his knife. The grotesque gurgling from his drowning in his blood sent chills through Alejandro’s spine.

While not part of the plan, they now had a way inside that would be closer to their target, so Alejandro walked over and stared up at the open window in slight shock.

“¿Eyes audaz, no?” He muttered. Y/N grinned and laced his fingers together to give the other a boost.

“Si, but I saved us time.” Alejandro hummed and hauled himself into the window, landing on his feet and waiting for Y/N to follow after him. The window was high up because of the big foundation, and he wondered if he would even be able to get himself over it, but lo and behold Y/N fell in after him rather ungracefully.

“Nice landing, tonto,” Alejandro huffed. Y/N pay no mind, simply standing up and brushing ohh his pants. Alejandro walked to the door and leaned out, immediately going back inside.

“Who’s over there?” Y/N asked, making his way over to the colonel. He shushed him and grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer to him and letting him peer out the door. There was a large, round table with a group of men playing poker around it, Alexander sitting amongst them. Large bodyguards were posted around the room, all sporting the same ‘uniform’ that the man Y/N killed was sporting. ‘Ah,’ he thought, pulling away from the door. “That’s not good…”

Alejandro walked away from the door, sending Y/N a look that said ‘keep watch’, while he moved farther away to be unheard while radioing into the rest of the team. Y/N stared out the door, the murmuring of Alejandro being snuffed by the rodeo that was the poker game outside of their small storage room.

“They’re on their way to us,” He stated quietly. Y/N briefly looked at him before returning to stalking the group. “On my signal, you shoot the one closest to us, the one on the left. I’ll get the one on the right.” Y/N nodded and readied his gun, holding it across his chest protectively.

Waiting for them felt longer than it should have, but when Y/N heard Ghost give Alejandro the ‘ok’ he stepped into the doorway and shot three of the bodyguards nearest to them, chaos ensuing.

“You-!” Alejandro cursed, following after Y/N and firing at the other guards and men who were now scrambling to get away.

Y/N spotted the red hair of Alexander running out of the room and immediately rushed after him. ‘Capture or kill’, he thought as he shot the tall man in the lower leg. He let out a blood-curdling scream and stumbled, limping away from Y/N as quickly as he could with a bullet in his calf. Y/N caught up with him quickly, kicking the back of his left knee and watching him fold like a chair.

“Hey, Alex! You mind if I call you that?” Y/N mocked, crouching in front of the ginger who was grasping his bleeding wound. He glared up at the H/C and spat on his face, Y/N’s lips curling into a grimace. “Mala jugada, pendejo,” He muttered as he wiped off the saliva.

He stood up and wound back, kicking Alexander in the side of his head with his thick combat boots. His head swung to the side, face red from the force. Y/N leaned down and grabbed his collar, pulling him up enough to look at him. He clicked his tongue and punched him, fist making contact with his temple. He passed out promptly afterwards, Y/N letting him fall to the floor. Alejandro walked rushed through the door, Soap on his heel and stared at the unconscious body at Y/N’s feet.

“He spat on me, it’s not my fault!” He said, raising his hands in defence. Soap groaned and Alejandro rubbed his eyebrows. “What? He’s still alive,” He grumbled, pulling a zip tie from his utility belt and tying Alexander’s wrists and ankles. He hoisted him up over his shoulder and walked past Alejandro and Soap, the latter following him while Alejandro stared in slight disbelief at the fact that Y/N had effortlessly picked up a 6’3” man and casually slung him over his shoulder. What the hell were they feeding this kid?

He caught up with them quickly and watched Y/N shove Alex, now awake and cursing Y/N out in Russian while thrashing around, in the back of the truck, slamming the door in his face.

Y/N groaned and looked at his hand, a throbbing, irritated and bleeding teeth mark on the skin. “This puta bit me!” Alejandro walked over to him and grimaced at the sight. The bastard’s teeth were sharp. Examining the wound, Alejandro got a good look at Y/N’s hands.

They were nice, a few veins protruding from his S/C skin, his bones showing through it. The meat of his palm and the creases in it, his fingernails short. Never in his life did he think that he would be admiring a man's hand and be slightly jealous that the bite wound on it wasn’t in the shape of his own teeth.

“¿A que estas mirando?” Y/N asked, looking into Alejandro's deep brown eyes. “¿Crees que es contagioso?” He turned back to his hand, raising it to his face and looking at it with concern.

“No esta infectado, no te preocupes,” Alejandro reassured him, turned away and walked to the passenger side of the car Rodolfo was in. He opened the door and climbed halfway inside, glancing back At Y/N who was getting into the driver's seat with Gaz in the passenger seat. “Nos vemos en la base.” Y/N grinned and waved, shutting the door and driving off. Rodolfo stared at Alejandro after he sat in the car incredulously.

“¿Te gusta el?” He asked, following the car in front of him. Alejandro glared at him in response.

“Es encantador,” He said, watching the road in front of them.

[ladydelaisol]

So I finally finished In stars and time and I have thoughts which will contain spoilers for acts 5 and 6 so heads up.

I didn't think I cry again from another video game after Person 3 reload. (If you know, you know) But man, by near the end of act 5 of ISAT I was balling my eyes out from both the battle where Sif became a giant (Also that battle's theme is my fave I think) and afterwards where the group talks to him after. And this is after all the things he said to them.

I kept thinking as early as act 3 that "Siffrin needs a hug." and when they finally get that hug and they broke down crying, I was crying with him.

Sadly I didn't get to see the secret boss in act 6 so I had to look it up and man do I regret being lazy at getting secret events in the game. (IDK if I'll play the game again to do so.) I felt fighting/confronting Loop felt like the true end. Makes me wonder what Loops thoughts were in the end I got. Loop needs a hug too.

Aside from emotional stuff, this game scared me, from Sif during act 5, to the house being messed up in the same act, and the music. The face of the somethings....

But overall, I just love this game. I can see why this game touch so many people's hearts and really means a lot to them on a personal level, and I might be one of those people now.

I heavily relate to Sif it's not even funny.

So that's my thoughts, sorry if I rambled. I might just say more in game stuff in separate posts like when I have random PMD thoughts.

[aprilthearcher]

burning red [roman roy x reader]

word count: 1.8k

[somewhat angst]

warnings: curse words, ooc roman ?, english is not my first language, not edited, rushed ending.

a/n: somewhat inspired by “red” and “false god” by taylor, idk i was just listening to these two songs on loop. i’m also supposed to be studying, but instead i wrote this, so enjoy! love me some greg sprinkles, couldn’t not include him. alsooo, this could read as being part of the same story as my previous roman blurb, but you won't have any problems if you haven't read it.

Loving Roman was complicated yet insanely easy, too tiresome at times and then incredibly invigorating. He had that effect on people, or maybe just her. Everyone else was probably too complicated for her to like. Not funny enough, not witty or smart enough, not loud enough. No one was Roman enough, not even across the whole damn world. 

Getting him off her mind had been more difficult than she’d expected, probably because (Y/N) only realised her feelings for him after she couldn’t stop thinking about him. He had taken over her whole body without knowing. It was Roman’s lips she imagined when kissing blonde, ginger, brunette guys at pubs; it were Roman’s eyes she thought of when her friends would ask her about her favourite colour; it was Roman’s face she conjured up in her head when they’d ask about her type of man. 

At first, she believed it to be some sort of sick joke the Universe was trying to play on her: discovering she had feelings for her long-time friend — one she’d known since they were in diapers, who would grab her by her ponytail whenever she was paying attention to his siblings instead of him (just him) —, barely two or three weeks in her first year of university, a university that was on a whole other continent, separated by an entire ocean. Still, (Y/N) knew she could fly back home in a couple of hours — “I’ll arrange a jet for you if you wanna come down”, her dad would always say over the phone —, but the idea of seeing him again with this new information in her head and heart (that couldn’t help but jump at the mention of him) terrified her.

Her mind would make her remember him and his antics in the worst possible times: while dancing with some random guy at a club, his hands on her hips, the cheap cologne contrasting the rich scented one Roman couldn’t get enough of. On a first date, set up by her friends who believed she had to let go of this “prude” behaviour and just let someone take her to their bed. When joking with the guys that approached her and her friends at the bar, knowing exactly what Roman would think of them, the cruel comments he’d throw, the silly faces. The soft eyes when they were both too drunk to even speak a coherent sentence, although most times nothing was coherent with Roman. She had tried looking for those same bright eyes; once more, she ended up disappointed. None of them were Roman. None of them ever will be, no matter how much (Y/N) tried to shape them into a replica of him. All of Roman was unique. 

Hence, the dreadful turmoil inside her stomach once Shiv, with some tint of malice in her eyes directed at Roman, introduced her to Tabitha. “Roman’s companion”, she’d said. The blonde, curly haired woman greeted (Y/N) with an eager smile on her face. She said her name at the same time both of them shook hands. A voice inside her head told her this was all wrong. How long? Where did it happen? Why? Why? Why now that she was back?

“Oh, you don’t need to tell me your name,” Tabitha mentioned playfully, a short roll of her eyes a second later. “You’re all Roman’s been talking about lately”.

“Only lately?” Shiv laughed, taking a sip from her glass she focused her eyes on Roman , then (Y/N). “Roman’s always talking about (Y/N). I mean, he was practically her lap dog when they were children.”

“Oh, fuck off Siobhan,” Roman bark back.

“Well, he only mentioned you as of now.” The knot in her stomach tightened. The worst part was she could see Tabitha hadn’t said it out of spite, nor jealousy, but as a fleeting comment to add something more to the conversation.

He hadn’t mentioned her to Tabitha? Not even once? She had tried everything to block him out of her head, to keep him out of her dreams and fantasies; to catch herself every time she was going to bring up him in a conversation again, and he didn’t say her name until he found out (Y/N) was coming back to New York? What kind of sick fuck was he? What kind of sick fuck was she, devoting probably her whole life to Roman fucking Roy?

“Oh,” (Y/N) managed to croak out before her father appeared beside her and whispered in her ear that she should spend some time chatting with the other guests.

                                                       * * *

Cousin Greg was great company, quite weird before you took in the awkwardness that seemed to surround him and make him stick out like a sore thumb in the midst of all these old, rich people, but great nonetheless. He had asked her about her years in London, what she studied and what she did for fun, her friends and hobbies. (Y/N) found herself enjoying the night, sitting on a couch by his side, meanwhile both of their cheeks were getting rosier and rosier with every new cup of alcohol brought to them. Greg was in the middle of telling her about how he had screwed up the first day at his job on one of the parks owned by Waystar, cracking up from time to time from how she tried to hide her laugh in order to keep the attention away from them, when two hands settled on his shoulders, hard and making a noise that was apparent that the gesture was meant to at least hurt him a little. Roman was behind him with a clench jaw and big, maniac eyes. 

“Greeeg, I think Tom was looking for you, man”.

“Oh, really?” Greg turned his upper body in Roman’s direction, which from the side looked somewhat weird because of his tall, lanky form. “Because, because I just saw him and he didn’t say anything”.

“Yes, oh really, man. And he said if you didn’t go talk to him right now, he would fire your sorry ass”.

Greg was on his feet quicker than she'd expected after seeing him drown glass after glass with her. He towered over her for a moment, saying a quick “see you later” before going in search of Tom. 

“You’re mean, Roman”.

“Yeah, well, tell me something I don’t fucking know”. 

They fell silent for a second. Around them, people were still in mindless conversation, setting down empty cups on the waiter’s tray while picking up new ones from another one. Alcohol seemed to be the only way to survive a family gathering at the Roy’s, even a harmless one. 

“You wanna get out of here?” Roman asked. She turned her head to the right to face him, he was already looking at her. His eyes no longer had the maniac fog blurring them, there was now a tranquil pool of honey.

                                                    ***

“My dad is probably gonna be mad if he finds out I ditched the party”.

“Please, (Y/N), since when did you become such a goody two shoes?” Roman leaned against the railing of the terrace, following her with his eyes while she approached him and finally set her elbows on top of the banister. From this position, he looked taller. “Don’t tell me you were like this in London. I mean, with no one to hover over you, you sure had a looot to do, didn’t you?”

“I went to London to study, remember? Not to go out and get drunk every night.”

“Well, I’m sure if you had been with me, you could’ve done both.”

“Yeah, probably, but you weren’t with me.”

“Whose fault is that, huh?” He crossed his arms over his chest. Her eyebrows raised.

“Are you saying it was my fault? We haven’t seen each other for how long and it was all my fault?”

“Why are you acting like it isn’t? It literally is, (Y/N), you left m.. you left and, and you never came back.” He had walked a few steps away from her. 

“It’s not like you couldn’t have visited, Roman. Just ask daddy for one of his jets, it’s literally that easy.”

“Yes, but - but you left, (Y/N). You left, and it’s not like you chose some university a state away, you chose one a whole continent away! That’s got to mean something!”

“As if Roman fucking Roy couldn’t get one goddamn plane and fly over to London!” She had abandoned her previous position, now fully facing Roman, who was still a couple of feet away, getting closer to the door. He was trying to run, just like it he always did whenever they fought.

“I didn’t - I didn’t want you to get annoyed by me! To realise what a true moron I was. Then you barely talked to me after you arrived at your fancy university and - and started your very difficult subjects.”

(Y/N) closed her eyes in confusion for a moment. Though it was easier to throw everything at him, (Y/N) knew that she was also responsible for their lack of communication over these last years. 

Only the bustling, almost never-ending nightlife of New York could be heard. Her chest hurted, her eyes would fill with tears at any point now. She was tired and drunk, and just fucking missed Roman too much for them to be fighting the first night she was back in the city.

“Now you are not saying anything?” Roman broke the silence. He was closer to the door, she noticed. “You know what? Fuck you, (Y/N). Fuck you for making feel all this – all this fucking, fucking shit!”

“What fucking shit?” She asked quietly, desperate for an answer, the answer.

“I - I don’t know what fucking shit, just shit, okay?”

“Say it.”

Roman didn’t respond, instead he turned her back on her, walking towards the door. Before he could reach the handle, she screamed at him.

“Fucking say it, Roman.”

“I’ve just told you, I don’t know. It’s just shit, okay? All of it,” he screamed back, opening up his arms, exaggerating his point. “I - I run out of breath and then my chest is all funny, and and I hate seeing you laughing with fucking Greg of all people. It’s shit, fucking shit!”

Drawing closer to him, she tested his limits. He was breathing hard from all the screaming and moving around the terrace to put distance between them, but he didn’t stop when (Y/N) got so close their bodies were almost touching. It was her with whom physical closeness wasn’t a problem, he always told himself it was because of how close they were pretty much their whole lives.

They only looked at each other for a few moments, the waves of conflict had calmed down fast and efficiently enough that for anyone else it would seem like nothing had happened between them. 

Roman wished — deep, deep down — that they could stay like this forever, without having to go back and confront his family, especially his father; that they could make this terrace, above Logan’s place ironically enough, a little haven, only for them; that they would never be found.

[winterisol]

"tenho medo da minha cabeça"

inspired of "Medo do Medo" by O Terno Rosquez AU (BIG ANGST) Warnings death, depression

So this is a really dark idea I've been playing around with for a while involving the whole 2015 divorce.

So the title of this fic literally means "I'm scared of my head" and I would like a fic where it applies to both Vale and Marc in 2015.

I would say by the beginning of 2014 these two are fucking, maybe even dating. Its like those shallow high school relationships, and probably with an unhealthy power dynamic. But over time its clear that those power dynamics are in place, not because Marc is any less than Vale, but is willing to give Vale that power because Marc loves and trust Valentino that much. And maybe that is part of the reason the divorce happens.

Young and emotional Marc giving his heart a little bit too easily V. Valentino Rossi, a man famous for his commitment issues.

Starting with Assen, Valentino begins to doubt Marc, aka being delulu, starting to believe maybe they aren't as buddy buddy as Marc acts in front of the camera. (Though he is really looking for more of an excuse to put distance between them)

Typical 2015 and then bam the Philip Island conference. I think Marc searches Valentino out after the conference, hoping it was all some joke, only for Valentino to be cruel and cutting, maybe poking at some of Marc's biggest insecurities. Perhaps Valentino says Marc is "dangerous" that he's "reckless" but the words that hurt the most is that Marc was "dumb" to "fall in love" and that Valentino "never loved him." (This is categorically untrue but so is a lot of the other BS vale says, so yeah). If I really want to go darker, maybe Valentino even says, that he knew Marc was dangerous the day he crashed out in 2011, you know the crash. The crash that almost killed and ended Marc's whole career.

Anyway, Marc is definitely in his head, but tries to use Sepang as a way to get back at Vale. Just like in IRL, this backfires, Valentino kicking Marc off his bike and the divorce is finalized.

Marc is now completely lost in thoughts, perhaps second guessing every aspect of his relationship with Valentino. I think there are a few incidents leading up to the finale. There is of course journalists trying to break into Marc's family home. People yelling things at him on track, at the paddock even at the airport. He has security to following him constantly, and everything is a lot. But I think Valencia is where shit truly hits the fan.

It's suppose to be a home race for Marc, a race in his country, Spain. But even here, he's jeered, people abuse him and it feels like no matter where he goes, no on likes him, because no one is greater than Valentino Rossi.

Following the end of the season Marc falls into a depressive rut not even his mother or brother can drag him out of. He feels lost and not in control, which only panics and depresses him more (another control freak). It's like a negative feedback loop, and he just wallows for weeks.

Then finally, for some reason, maybe it's after Alex cries begging his brother to be happy again, Marc tries to go about life again. But he's an empty husk, just going through the motions of a person who no longer exists.

Perhaps its at the beginning year test in Sepang. Marc is riding, and even while riding the thoughts seem to not go away. Perhaps he loses focus because of the biting feelings of depression, or even worse he's silently wishing to just die already. Either way, he crashes, letting the front slide and the rear lift, throwing him head first into the tarmac.

I think Marc passes away basically on impact (idk how realistic it is with these types of crashes). Perhaps there is a mistake with the medic team, pre-season testing and everything leading to the correct safety measure not being taken. He's basically lying there on circuit, slowly dying, brain turning fog, but his last thought is that he's thankful for the reprise (ouch).

His death is obviously a shock to the whole motorsport world. A young talent, the youngest motoGP world champion, the baby alien, a kid with so much more to live for. gone.

Then in Marc's motorhome as Alex's goes to sob on his brother's bed, he sees a series of papers. Marc wrote notes to him, his parents, his friends but also Jorge, Dani and Valentino. (These notes are NOT suicide notes, more like Marc trying to collect his thoughts, and doing it as letters to people he cares/cared about bcuz its easier that way. These notes were never intended to see the light of day)

Alex is obviously inconsolable, reading through it, realizing its less of a note to him, but a confession. Marc venting all his dark thoughts through a message to his younger brother, thinking that Alex would never find or hear these thoughts.

Then there are the letters to Dani, Jorge and Valentino.

These letters are apologies, Marc overthinking every mistake, trying to rationalize the reason for his loneliness.

Dani reads it and feels like a failure. Not being a good enough teammate, a good enough mentor, a good enough friend for Marc, who's only goal in life was to win and enjoy winning.

Jorge is furious at first, storming towards Valentino and yelling bloody murder, before throwing Vale's note at him. Jorge feeling guilty that he secondhandly caused the divorce.

And then Vale, is a mess. In every sense of the word, he almost withdraws from the first race of the season because of how messed up everything is. He feels, guilt, loss, despair but also an indescrible amount of regret. Not only is Marc dead, but they ended on such horrible terms. Valentino not only lost the love of his life, but let the love of his life believe that he was unlovable.

I think it takes the combined effort of Vale's friends (yes even Uccio) as well as a reconciliation with the Marquez family to make Valentino feel even remotely human again.

It's slow, and perhaps it ends with Valentino creating a small monument for Marc in his Ranch, which every February 17 at 12:00 AM he leaves a bouquet of forgetmenots and daisies.

[heartshapedbubble]

HI HI HI ‼️‼️

I'm so happy the requests are open again (I was waiting for this 😭😭)

I hope exam season went well!!

Anyways,I'm back (if you still remember me smh) with a platonic request!!

Can I just have platonic Jack,Charles Holt (i think you write for him),Percy,and Burke any person of your choice (you can remove or replace some if it's too much/you dony write for them) with a child reader that's really paranoid,is scared of everyone and everything,and has just a deep backstory,for example with bad parents,and like a big brother who is a psychopath or smth (idk I made that up on the spot,you can change it if you'd like!!) kinda warming up to them,following them around like a lost puppy and just crying when they aren't there?

I hope it's not too complicated and made sense,and that you have a fantastic day!!

AHH HELLO FINALLY RESPONDING TO THIS REQ!!! sadly i'm stuck in an endless loop of exam seasons but so far i have all As!! B) partially the reason i've been inactive here, i'm working quite hard on my education this year!

of course i remember and i shall deliver - have a great day! <3

jack, charles holt, percy and burke lapadura with an upset!child reader hcs🎩✈️🧟‍♂️🔨

jack the ripper🎩

he warms up to you quite quickly. in his opinion, you can hide away behind him as much as you want and he'll gladly hold your hand whenever you want him to - just be careful not to cut yourself on his blades

i don't think jack is much of a listener. he just sees you curled up and sad and can't help but pity you, so little and innocent. who could have possibly wanted to harm such a precious little thing like you?

a bit tone-deaf in situations like these, i think he'd even baby you here and there. he's so determined to take good care of you he goes a bit overboard sometimes

as i mentioned before, he's more action-oriented in cases like these. despite the gravity of the situation his manner of speech remains light and even gleeful. in his eyes, now that you're with him there's no reason to worry anymore. he doesn't want to make you even sadder than before!

the type of caretaker to carry you around at all times and pick you up whenever he notices you're upset. in doubt? carry the lil kid on your shoulders

charles holt✈️

this man definetly has some fearful-avoidant attachment thing going on with him. at first he's awfully uncomfortable, seeking every possible moment to avoid you. he's not a bad guy - he just doesn't know how to react in situations like these and copes by escaping them as soon as he gets the opportunity.

on top of that, he has never been good with kids.

he pities you, though :( i think he'd see some part of his younger self in you and that would really rub salt into his wound

he talks to you in the same way that he talks to adults, except the occasional "little guy/little fella" and bends over/crouches whenever he talks so you two are at the same level

also the type to pick you up when he notices you're crying :( in general he's much more responsive once you two get closer, often patting your head and back in an attempt to comfort you

grab his hand *once* and he just follows along with you. no questions asked

he didn't get much attention as a kid so he's kind of projecting in the form of giving you all the affection he didn't receive, albeit shyly

percy🧟‍♂️

percy often uses his muteness to his advantage, playing deaf just so he can avoid the other residents and quicky return to his solitude. he knows it's bad but he literally experimented on cadavers, he's not below that.

yet he can't pretend forever.

something that percy copes the worst with (after his resurrection) is guilt. seeing you so upset, seeking any sort of comfort from the manor residents makes something inside of him break. probably not his heart, rather something more human that he can't exactly pinpoint.

not big on physical affection, instead guiding you with an occasional tap on the back or simply pointing towards something. he also communicates with you with his gaze - it has been, for the most part, drained of humanity, but the way he furrows his brows and blinks slowly makes you think he's trying to push the few remaining bits of empathy through his eyes, in hopes you'll understand what he wants to say to you.

likes going on walks with you after dinner. mostly through the corridors of the manor, straight to the garden where you two sit to catch a breather and appreciate the blooming plants

burke lapadura🔨

probably the most responsible (in a way) out of the four here tbh

the most communicative out of them too - when he's not preoccupied with his machines, he's a solid listener and provides his own insight and advice. often it's a bit too much for you since you're quite young, but he's trying his best ok :(

believes good food can soothe anything! he's not the type to cook hearty meals (do NOT let this man into the kitchen) but he always keeps some cookies in his workshop in case you visit

awkward with any sort of physical touch so he compensates with quality time. if the weather is nice enough he may propose a short fishing trip or flying kites in the backyard

the way he sees it, distracting yourself from your past trauma is the best way to cope with it. never mentions your upbringing unless you want to talk about it - he wants to create as much happy memories with you, even if it means spoiling you with new machines and toys

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

i got a massive brainrot w/ sagau stuff like

do you ever think of how when you play the game and don't advance the main story, what would happen if someone turned aware of it? like ive been putting off starting the liyue archon quest in my alt and it never occurred to me how convenient that we start the quest just as it happens to be the rite of descension.

so like picture this: little npc background chara reader who developed self awareness, either by a vision or something entirely like a glitch, and now since the Traveler has yet to start the aq the day before the rite just loops.

they've practically memorized all of the responses and paths and all the shenanigans because why are they stuck in this loop, why won't the next day just go on already?

so probably out of boredom and maybe desperation, they decided to mess with the Snezhnayan diplomat.

"please go out on a date with me"

they did and they had a good time surprisingly so the next day, reader does it again.

and again.

and again.

until one day, when they're about to do it, something changes. Childe somehow loses control and out comes a furry moth monster. Rather than run away and be terrified, they're excited af because holy shit something new!!!

moth man seemed sentient as well and hugged reader back.

apparently, all those times they went on a date, moth man clearly remembers

just a food for a thought lmao idk how this goes from here

anon, you have the BIGGEST BRAIN EVER, i love this!!!

at first, you're absolutely terrified- waking up over and over in the same day, the exact same scenes playing out before you time and time again, and no one knowing what you're talking about, asking if you're feeling alright or if you've had enough sleep- you feel like you're going insane, trapped in this endless, repetitive nightmare. even if you do something different, everything resets the next day- you can't change anything, warn anyone, or do anything to help stop this madness, and it claws at your being as the days stretch into weeks, then months of a repeating cycle

so one day, on a whim, you stride up to the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger and ask him on a date

he seems surprised at your confidence- it's less confidence and more a steeled resolve to try anything to keep yourself from losing your mind- his boisterous laughter filling the bank as he places his hand in yours and accepts, ocean-colored eyes swirling with emotions you can't quite place. you almost feel guilty, as a citizen of Liyue, for being this close to a Fatuus, but it's fine, because it'll be gone tomorrow- it's just to keep yourself sane

yet, you find that you enjoy your time with Tartaglia more than almost anything else. for the first time in months, you feel happy.

so you go back the next day, and the next, and the next. slowly, you grow more and more attached to the Harbinger and the way he holds your hand so gently, swipes his fingers across your cheek like you're a rare, wonderful treasure, looks at you with all the fondness and affection in the world. soon you're looking at him the same way, daily greetings becoming softer and shoulders becoming less tense as he gazes at you with a combination of delight and astonishment and adoration in his eyes

you wonder, when you're falling asleep on that repeated night, what will happen to you and Tartaglia when time resumes

one day, just like all the others, you wander into the bank to invite the Harbinger out as usual, but find him mysteriously absent. with a frown you survey the building, hoping to see the familiar head of ginger hair but with no luck. Ekaterina directs you upstairs, and it suddenly occurs to you that something has changed, something about the day is different. you climb the stairs and knock on Tartaglia's door, heart thumping in your chest, and when no one answers you crack it open yourself and stare into the single-eyed gaze of a strange monster with fluffy ginger hair

it's certainly Tartaglia's room- you can see his coat hanging on the wall- and when the creature slowly approaches and kneels to your height the resemblance abruptly hits you. this is Tartaglia- the beautiful monster with a crimson mask and sharp claws and a flowing, shimmering cape is the Fatuus you've been falling in love with- and when he cups your cheek in his talons you nearly start crying. Tartaglia- or the Foul Legacy form of him- purrs soothingly as you step into his embrace and lean your head on his shoulder. he looks at you the same way Tartaglia did, except multiplied by however many days you spent at his side, his Abyssal nature recalling every blissful moment, from the anticipation of your arrival to the dreaded goodbye at night. with a soft croon, Foul Legacy gathers you into his arms and sets you in his lap, claws drawing comforting patterns and circles onto your back as your own hands wander up and bury themselves in his copper hair; the Abyssal monster relishes getting to hold you in his arms, having your hands run through his hair, your body leaning against his chest, instead of watching inside Tartaglia's mind and despairing whenever his mortal half forgot you and your blossoming, undying love

somewhere in Teyvat, a clock ticks and moves again