#maybe ill do something more with it one day

[willowsnook]

back to you

hi! can I request angst with a happy ending for Oscar please? Maybe exes to lovers?

Oscar piastri x ex!reader

—--------------------------------------

Three years ago

“So this is really it?” You asked Oscar, your confusion morphing into shock. “But I thought we were so good together?”

Oscar sighed, his arms crossed as he stood in your dorm. “We are good together, but I’m going to be traveling more in F2 and as a reserve driver, so it doesn’t really make sense to continue this.”

“Doesn’t make sense?” Your anger was rising now, threatening to boil over. “We’ve been together for two years, jackass. Does that mean nothing to you? Do you even care about me?”

“Of course, I care about yo,u y/n,” he said, his eyes softening. “But this is my career; I need to put it first.”

“Get the fuck out,” you snapped, and he flinched in surprise, a flash of hurt in his eyes. “Lose my number. I hope you make it to F1 and get everything you ever dreamed of, but I hope you have it all alone.”

That was the last thing you ever said to him, and you didn’t regret it one bit. You met him your first year in college in London and were a perfect match. His dry-humored personality complemented your sassy attitude, and you both had a lot of fun together. If you were being honest with yourself, it was never super serious between you and Oscar. It was nice and fun, maybe a little toxic, but the way he ended it with such nonchalance is why it still irritated you even three years later.

—-----present day—----------

You had hoped that when you accepted the job with McLaren, you and Oscar’s paths wouldn’t cross. After graduating with a marketing degree, you took a position with their partnerships team, meaning your primary responsibilities would be representing McLaren to their sponsors and helping coordinate events. Generally, the events did not involve the drivers, but with it being three weeks in between races, they were expected to attend a small, exclusive happy hour in London. And, of course, you were the lead for the event.

You were wearing a nice pair of brown plaid trousers paired with a sleeveless, high-neck black turtle neck and hair pulled up in a tight bun. You’d done this a million times before, so you weren’t necessarily nervous, but the thought of interacting with Oscar again made you physically ill.

The boys arrived at the venue together, both dressed in their own versions of business professional, and headed to where you were standing with your boss. 

“Hi guys,” she said. “I have to go, but y/n is in charge, so she’ll give you the run-down.” 

The boys nodded as she left before turning to you. Oscar’s mouth opened slightly as he looked at you in surprise. 

“Hey, y/n, I’m Lando,” Lando greeted you with a bright smile. “And this is Oscar.” 

You returned his smile widely. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

Oscar snorted at your response, and your eyes flashed. Lando looked over at him in confusion. 

“Are you really going to act like you don’t know who I am?”

Lando, misreading his comment for being a stuck-up celebrity quip, started apologizing for his teammate’s behavior. 

“I’m sorry, have we met?” You asked, feigning being puzzled and effectively getting under Oscar’s skin. 

“Don’t act like I haven’t had my hands on every inch of your body,” Oscar snapped, eyes narrowed, and Lando’s eyes widened in shock. Your eyes narrowed, and you squared your shoulders at him. 

“If I could burn off my top layer of skin to be pure from you, I would,” you said coldly. “How’s life anyway? Lonely at the top?”

He flinched at your words, and you knew you hit a nerve. In an interview from last year, you'd read that he was struggling with being lonely after joining F1, so you knew that would remind him of your parting words. 

Oscar’s jaw tightened, and his eyes flickered with something that looked like hurt before he masked it with indifference. “Life’s great, thanks for asking. It’s everything I worked for.”

“Everything you worked for?” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Yeah, I bet it’s super fulfilling to win races and go back to an empty hotel room. Sounds amazing.”

Oscar’s lips parted, clearly taken aback by your jab, but he recovered quickly. “At least I have something to show for my sacrifices. What about you? Working events for McLaren? Sounds like a step down for someone convinced they would end up in New York, working for a top agency.”

It was your turn to flinch; that had been your dream ever since you were a kid, and you were still reeling from the failure of it not happening. But you had one last card to play against him, one you didn’t even want to. 

Lando, who had been awkwardly watching the exchange like a spectator at a tennis match, raised his hands in a desperate attempt to intervene. “Okay, guys, maybe we save this for another time? Or never? Never works too.”

“It is a step-down,” you said icily. “But a lot of dreams died after my dad did.”

It was like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over Oscar, the way he stiffened at your words. You knew it was shitty, throwing your dad’s death in his face, but he pushed you too far, and the wound was still fresh. 

“Y/n.. I-I didn’t…,” he stuttered, but you raised a hand to cut him off.

“The happy hour is starting now,” you said, trying to regain your composure. “There are only five different companies, so it shouldn’t be too overwhelming. Be nice, be optimistic about the rest of the season, and ask questions about them as well. Find me if you need me.”

With that, you turned on your heel and marched into the venue. Lando and Oscar stood in silence, watching you disappear. Lando was still shocked at how Oscar acted, having never seen his teammate lose his temper like that. 

“So you two dated or something?” He asked cautiously and Oscar shot him an annoyed look. 

“Unfortunately,” he replied shortly. 

“I’ve never seen you so worked up from someone,” Lando commented. 

“She still knows just how to get under my skin,” Oscar muttered before walking in. 

You did what you did best during the event, schmoozing your heart out. It was fun for you, and by the end of the even,t you had forgotten the interaction with Oscar at the beginning. After cleanup, you went into the bar's main area, sitting down to order a martini. 

“Mind if I join you?�� A voice asked, and you turned to see Lando standing next to the chair by you. 

“Sure,” you replied. “Have fun tonight?”

“These aren’t my favorite kind of things if I’m being honest,” he admitted, and you nodded. “Our sponsors always treat me like I’m some kind of god when I’m really just, well, me.” 

“I could see that,” you said. “Thanks for doing a good job, though; you make my job easy.” 

“You make it easy for us,” he replied, and you blushed at the compliment. 

He fiddled with his drink as you both sat silently for a bit, and you sighed, knowing what he wanted to ask. 

“Out with it, Norris. I know you want to ask about it earlier,” you said teasingly. 

He blushed before meeting your eyes. “I’ve just never seen him like that. He’s always so well put together and almost polished.” 

“We bring out the worst in each other,” you said, bringing your glass to your lips. 

“But you used to bring out the best?” He offered. 

“Something like that,” you muttered. 

“I’m sorry about your dad,” Lando said, and you felt a wave of sadness wash over you.

“Thank you,” you said softly. “I shouldn’t have said it like that to him; I’m not usually that mean.”

“You were both emotional seeing each other,” Lando said warmly. “I won’t hold it against you.”

“I appreciate that,” you said. “It’s a lot of old feelings resurfacing.”

You gave him a forced smile, and he studied you until you finished your drink. 

“Well, it was good to meet you,” you told him, standing up and slinging on your coat. 

“You too,” he said. “I hope to see more of you.” 

—---------------------------------

A couple of months later, you were cursing Lando for saying that. You had been promoted, and with the new job came new responsibilities, such as managing the sponsors at races. Stepping into the paddock early that Sunday morning, you were greeted by Land,o who had arrived at the same time. 

“Y/n!” He said cheerfully. “Congrats on the promotion.”

“Thanks, Lando,” you sai,d smiling, falling into step with him as you both headed towards the garage. Oscar was already there, talking to another driver you recognized as Franco Colapinto. 

“Hey Franco,” Lando called out. “Have you met y/n?”

Franco turned at the sound of Lando’s voice, flashing a charming smile as his gaze landed on you. “I haven’t had the pleasure,” he said smoothly, extending a hand. “Franco Colapinto.”

You shook his hand, offering a polite smile. “Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Franco said, holding your hand a beat longer than necessary. “I don’t know how I missed meeting someone like you before now. McLaren’s lucky to have you.”

Oscar’s jaw visibly tightened from his spot nearby, and he took a step closer, crossing his arms as he observed the scene.

You tilted your head slightly, playing along with Franco’s flirtatious tone just enough to annoy Oscar. “I’m just doing my job, but thanks.”

“Doing it exceptionally well, I’m sure,” Franco replied with a grin. “If you ever get bored working with these guys, let me know. I’m sure my team could use someone with your... expertise.”

Lando let out a low whistle, clearly amused by the unfolding drama. “Careful, Franco. You’re laying it on thick.”

“I’m just being honest,” Franco said with an unapologetic shrug, his eyes never leaving yours.

Oscar finally decided to intervene, his voice cutting through the conversation like a blade. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on your race prep, Franco? Or is flirting your new warm-up routine?”

Franco glanced at Oscar, raising an eyebrow. “Relax, mate. Just being friendly.”

Oscar’s glare hardened. “She doesn’t need your ‘friendly.’ She’s here to work, not entertain your distractions.”

You raised an eyebrow, shooting Oscar a sharp look. “I can handle myself, thanks. No need to play bodyguard.”

Franco smirked, clearly enjoying the tension. “Seems like someone’s a little territorial.”

Oscar’s nostrils flared as he took a step closer, his tone laced with irritation. “I’m not territorial. I just don’t think she needs you wasting her time.”

“Oh, but she’s fine with you wasting her time?” Franco shot back, clearly relishing in provoking Oscar.

“Okay,” you interrupted, holding up a hand. “This is officially ridiculous. Franco, it was nice meeting you. Lando, I’ll see you later.”

You turned on your heel and walked further in the McLaren garage, leaving all three men staring after you—Franco amused, Lando bewildered, and Oscar frustrated. The latter’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, a storm brewing in his eyes as he watched you disappear into the distance. Franco bid both men goodbye, and Lando turned to Oscar with an amused look on his face. 

“Gonna tell me what that was about?” He teased, and Oscar shot him the finger, moving towards his side of the garage. 

After the race, you lingered around hospitality, saying your final goodbyes to sponsored guests before gathering your stuff to head back to the hotel. You just came out of the room when you ran, face first into Oscar. His hands came out to steady you, and you were about to thank him until you realized who it was. 

“Excuse me,” you mumbled, trying to get past him, but his grip on your waist tightened. 

“Can we talk?” He aske,d and you were caught off guard.

“About what?” You asked. “How you were about to rip Franco’s head off this morning for talking to me?”

He rolled his eyes, his calm demeanor fading away. 

"I wasn't going to rip his head off," Oscar muttered, releasing his grip on your waist but not stepping back. "I just didn't like how he was talking to you."

You crossed your arms, eyebrow raised. "And how exactly was he talking to me?"

"Like you were some prize to be won," Oscar said, frustration evident in his voice. "Like you were just there for his entertainment."

"As opposed to how you talk to me?" You shot back. "Like I'm some nuisance you have to deal with?"

Oscar's eyes widened slightly, a flash of hurt crossing his features before he masked it. "That's not... I don't think of you like that."

"Could've fooled me," you said, your voice softer now. "Look, Oscar, we don't have to do this. We can just be professional and cordial. No need to rehash old drama.” 

“If that’s what you want,” he said slowly, and you nodded, shifting to move past him. 

“It is, I’ll see you later.” 

—------------------------------------------------

Brazil

You hated the rain. Well, you didn’t always hate it, but it had rained the day your dad died, so you had hated it ever since. It was the world weepin,g and the memory of you doing the same was still fresh. 

“Are you okay?” Lando asked, catching you staring off in the distance at the front of the garage. It was an hour before qualifying was supposed to happen, and you felt yourself start to slip out of reality. You didn’t say anything, so Lando moved closer, pulling your shoulder so you could face him. His eyes widened, seeing yours full of tears, but you were quick to turn back away. 

“I’m fine,” you said firmly. He started to say something again, but the look you gave him felt like a shot to the heart; you looked so sad, and he didn’t know what to do. You only repeated yourself, “I’m fine.” 

You weren’t fine. You knew you were starting to spiral. The first time it happened, it surprised you. You didn’t consider yourself an emotional person, but something about the rain now made you panic. 

Lando left you and headed straight towards Oscar’s driver's room. Someone on the way told him that qualifying had been pushed to tomorrow, but he didn’t stop his stride. Banging open the door, Oscar looked up, surprised at his teammate’s panic. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked. 

“Something is wrong with y/n,” he said breathlessly. Oscar’s brows furrowed. 

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“I noticed her earlier, just standing and staring out at the rain on the track for literally 15 minutes,” Lando said. “Didn’t move an inch. I went up to her and could tell she was very close to losing it.”

“Did she say anything?” Oscar asked, already standing up and heading towards the door. Despite their current relationship, he knew you very well. He could count the number of times he had seen you cry on one hand. 

Lando shook his head. "No, she just kept saying she was fine, but her eyes... Oscar, I've never seen someone look so sad."

Oscar's jaw clenched as he strode out of the room, Lando hurrying to keep up. They made their way through the garage, scanning for you. Oscar spotted you first, still standing motionless at the front of the garage, staring out at the rain-soaked track.

He approached you cautiously, coming to stand beside you. "Y/n?" he said softly.

You didn't respond, didn't even blink. Oscar glanced back at Lando, who gave him an encouraging nod.

"Y/n, can you hear me?" Oscar tried again, gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

The touch seemed to snap you out of your trance. You flinched, turning to look at him, and the second your eyes met his, you crumpled. He quickly pulled you into his arms as you sobbed, his arm rubbing your back. 

“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, falling back to your old pet name. “I’m here.” 

You gripped his shirt tightly, trying to calm down, and your sobs soon turned to hiccups. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble,d trying to pull away but Oscar didn’t let you, keeping you tight against his body. You rested your cheek against his chest as his hand came up to your head, tangled in your hair. Oscar nodded to Lando to tell him that it was okay and Lando disappeared, leaving the two of you alone. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked. 

“No,” you whispered. “Can we go back to the hotel?”

“Of course,” he said, finally letting you go. He collected your stuff and gripped your hand tightly, leading you to where he had a car waiting. The traffic was insane outside the track; the number of people leaving and the weather was a bad mix. The sound of the rain against the windows made your heart start to race again, so without a second thought, you unbuckled your seatbelt and crawled into Oscar’s lap. 

His arms wrapped around you as you snuggled into the crook of his neck. Neither of you said anything for the rest of the ride, and you had calmed down by the time the car pulled up to the hotel. Sliding off his lap, you got out of the car and headed into the hotel, him right behind you. He didn’t want to overstep, but he did not want to leave you alone, so he lingered awkwardly beside you in the elevator. 

“Are you on the same floor as me?” You asked, noticing he hadn’t hit another number. 

“No,” he said, and you nodded, silently giving him the green light. 

You felt like a shell of yourself when you made it to your room, peeling off your wet outer layers while Oscar kicked off his shoes. 

“Let me draw you a bath,” he offered, and you didn’t answer, but he was already moving into the bathroom and turning on the water. 

You stared out the window, shivering, and that’s where he found you minutes later. 

“Come on, baby,” he whispered, gently pulling you towards the bathroom. You followed him wordlessly and let him help remove your clothes, not flinching under his gaze. He’d seen it all before anyway. You stepped into the bath, and he sat next to the tub, watching you as you closed your eyes and leaned back. 

“It was raining when he died,” you said, breaking the silence. “Now, anytime I hear the noise, it’s all I can think about.” 

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he murmured from beside you. 

You took a deep breath, the warm water soothing your nerves. "It was just over a year ago. He was driving home from work, and... a drunk driver hit him. It was pouring rain that day."

Oscar's hand found yours, gripping it gently. "I'm so sorry, y/n. I had no idea."

"How could you?" you said, a sad smile on your face. "We weren't exactly on speaking terms."

A flash of regret crossed Oscar's features. "I should have been there for you."

You shook your head. "It's not your fault. We both said things we didn't mean."

Oscar was quiet for a moment, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. 

“You got your wish, though,” he admitted softly and you looked over at him, confusion in your eyes. 

“About what?”

“I got everything I always dreamed of,” he started. “But I’ve had no one to share it with.” 

“You have Lando and Alex,” you said softly, and he gave you a small smile. 

“It’s not the same,” he said. “Are you ready?” 

He didn’t give you a chance to answer, standing up to grab a towel from nearby. You stood up, letting him wrap it around you and helping you step out of the tub. 

Oscar’s hands lingered at your shoulders as he steadied you, the towel snug around your body. His eyes searched yours, a mixture of guilt and longing in their depths. You could tell he wanted to say something else but hesitated, unsure if this was the right moment.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?” he asked, his brows furrowed.

“For being here,” you replied, your hand brushing against his as you tightened the towel around yourself. “I didn’t know how much I needed it.”

Oscar let out a small, relieved laugh, shaking his head. “You don’t have to thank me, y/n. I’ll always be here. Even if I don’t always know how to show it.”

You nodded, the warmth of his words spreading through you like the bathwater had. It was the first time in a long while you felt truly seen.

“Come on,” he said, tilting his head toward the bedroom. “Let’s get you comfortable.”

He helped you into one of his oversized hoodies, the fabric soft and smelling faintly of him. It felt like a hug, like safety. You settled onto the bed, pulling your knees up to your chest as Oscar perched at the edge, watching you closely.

“Can I stay tonight?” he asked tentatively, his voice careful, like he didn’t want to overstep.

You nodded without hesitation. “Please.”

He moved to the other side of the bed, slipping off his shirt and grabbing the blanket to drape over both of you. The rain was still falling outside, but the sound didn’t feel as suffocating with Oscar beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, and you let yourself lean into him.

As you lay there, Oscar's arm around you, the steady rhythm of his breathing began to lull you into a sense of calm. The rain outside seemed less threatening now, more of a gentle backdrop to the quiet moment you were sharing.

"I've missed this," you whispered, barely audible. "Being close to you like this."

Oscar's arm tightened slightly around you. "Me too," he admitted softly. "More than I realized."

You turned in his embrace to face him, your eyes meeting his in the dim light of the room. There was so much left unsaid between you, years of hurt and misunderstanding, but in this moment, none of that seemed to matter.

"Oscar," you started, your voice trembling slightly. "I'm sorry for what I said that day. About hoping you'd be alone. I didn't mean it."

He shook his head, his hand coming up to your cheek. 

“I deserved it,” he said. “I was so caught up in the excitement that I didn’t consider your feelings. I was miserable that first year without you, more than I’d like to admit. This world can be so lonely, but I had too much pride to come crawling back to you.” 

“I wouldn’t have taken you back anyways,” you said honestly. 

“Would you now?” He asked quietly. “Take me back?” 

You looked at him, his eyes looking deep into your own, and thought about it. 

“Maybe,” you said finally. “But you’d have to work for it.”

“Trust me, I will,” he said, pressing his lips against your forehead. 

He didn't feel alone for the first time in what felt like forever. And as you closed your eyes, exhaustion finally catching up with you, you realized that maybe people were right when they said you’d always find your way back to people you loved. 

[icarusredwings]

Succubus /angel au lore drop

@nuggetpool-hi thanks for some of the ideas.

Tw: mentions of sex, death and negitive treatment of sex workers/ forced prostitution (if you think about it)

Logan does often sleep. His vessel needs it. Wade doesn't need it but hes obsessed with napping in Logans bed.

It conviences both of their brains they're more then just casual and hook ups. But something more. Because even demons dreams about a semi settled life.

They physically sleep together, cuddle, share a singular bed, share a room, kiss all the time, and shower together. But (most days) this is stuff that happens before or after at least a quick blow job/rub/ or hump session.

It used to only be bjs but Logan actually, lovingly and passionately fucks him towards the end and this is when Wade decides to stay forever.

Wade "what do you mean you wanna keep the lights ON for sex and want to strip me and kiss my body??" Wilson

And yeah, logan calls him mouth. For verious reasons. In which wade IS the blowjob queen.

Logan thinks "feeding him just to keep him alive" is the most ethical thing (at the start) so like clock work once every 5 days he'd let Wade suck the shit out of him.

Ngl, logan kinda likes watching him so desperatly swallow it all- hes a bit selfish and greedy for an angel... though maybe thats why wade likes him.

Logan is definitely still gruff wife beater and jeans guy (but goes to church in button ups and ties) who still smokes his cigars and enjoys reading.

Sometimes, since wade cant touch the bible, logan reads it to him.

Logans spent so long on earth that he genuienly forgets hes an angel sometimes. Guy is like "ugh food is so expensive" and Wades like "You dont have to eat idiot."

Logan often forgets that he has a flaming sword and actually lost it at one point in time. Thats how he Met Kurt actually, because he asked Kurt for his sword back (that cloaks itself as a regular sword unless wielded by a winged angel, but logan never shows Kurt his wings. It would blow his cover)

Wade definitely has empathy- AND REJECTION SENSITIVITY

So TECHNICALLY wade can be fed by Logan just teasing him and telling him sexy things, rubbing his thigh and whispering how sexy he is, but this is more of a snack and logan would have to do it daily, while a good sized Load can feed him for a solid 4-5 days (but this is the bare minimum, Wade would gladly take a load daily, it would probably finally put some weight on him actually. Wade is very thin because of how unsucessful he is in finding prey that will sleep with him)

This is what people dont understand, though. They think they're just sexy monsters who want to take your soul (maybe idk), but Wade is genuinely caring and empathetic and very much capable of love.

It's not his fault he needs sex and to seduce people to survive, but Hell KNEW he was a burn victim, assumed he was on the playboy bus and decided to "Make him beg for it" for eternity, just like all the other girls on that bus (Succubai are originally female and can change their sex how ever they please- do what you will with this information COUGH trans wade COUGH)

Hell KNEW hed struggle to survive and still did it simply because they thought he was a sex worker. But Wade wasn't, he was a merc just trying to buy groceries when hit by a damn bus.

The bus hitting him isnt what killed him. It was the fire and explosion that happened afterwards. He was trapped underneath of the bus when it caught fire and blew up. He was screaming for help, sobbing and begging for anyones attention to the fact he was still alive.

What's even more not fair is that most of the girls died on impact to the brick wall rather then the fire or explosion so they are still very pretty and can manage a good amount of prey.

Aka, Wade got fucked (not literally unfortunately) just for being a bystander.

Yeah, hes killed people but he's heavily mentally ill and needed to find a way to put food on the table some how. Even if that way is by killing for money.

Oh and yes, Wade still has nightmares about how he died. Especially if Logan is laying on top of him, Wade dreams hes trapped under the bus, on fire, screaming for help and crying.. the thing about crying while on fire is though your tear ducts get burnt closed.

So now when ever he cries, it's not tears. More like blood.

So he will literally wake up to blood with a dash of tears on his face and it hurts to remember. This mans phantom pain is torture alone, let alone having to grovel at peoples feet to please fuck him or else he'll die..

Logan will kiss and hold him close, "its okay. Im sorry. Im so sorry. I didnt mean to squish you, i promise. Youre alright. I got you."

And yes, Logan is afraid of water. Not in the sense of showering but if wade asks him to take a bath with him he will shy away, he also dosnt like pools or the ocean, lakes or even ponds. He dosn't like water. Period. It reminds him of his death (and his wings get all soaked and puffy frim humidity)

Funfact: Both can become tiny. Imagine tiny Crowley.

Wade is 6'2 and becomes 6 inches. When hes tiny he's invisible to the naked eye and he chooses who can see him. This is how its so easy to be on kurts shoulder without getting caught. But logan cant be tiny unless he has his halo on, and thats a no no if hes having sex. So no tiny sex for them, but this does not stop wade from trying.

Sometimes he rides around on logan if Hes bored or clingy, but most times it goes like this.

Teeny wade: *spreads legs* Put it in me!

Logan, who can barley hear him: What??

Wade: IN!

Logan: WHAT!? NO!! That is not gonna fit you stupid idiot

Wade: hmmm.. youre right. What if i hump it? My big giant bean stalk! Gonna milk this cow too!

Logan: ... Im leaving... *walks away*

Wade: *sighs* Angels are so vanilla. Dont even wanna kill me with his cock <:/ does he even love me then??

Logan, from across the room: DUDE. YOU. WILL. DIE!!! It-its literally bigger then you!!

Wade: I know!! Thats the fun!

(Quick reminder that wade does not have a healing factor- hes insane.)

Technecally- Wade can eat logans ass and still be fed. Any sort of sexual desire or pleasure kinda makes him fed so this opens lots of new things. Hell- Logan can savagely dry hump him for 20 minutes and it would be enough for the day. This being said Logan dosnt have a refractoary period (angel stuff) so if he really wanted to be kind, he could give Wade multiple loads and have him fed for a month. Wade would still be hungry but not as much, seeing as if Logan wanted to feed him properly they'd have to have sex at least once a day, if not more for Wade to be fully taken care of meal wise.

OH! I dont think I mentioned this before either but they all live in the ministry together. So yes, there literally is a demon living in the church. With his angel lover.

Logan: This place is full of priests so dont do anything. Be on your best behaviour.

Wade @ the humans cause he knows Logan wont let them actually do anything to him:

Logan just walks in to see Wade twerking on the bed and the oldest of the fathers is like "Repent! Begone! Get off my bed you fowl fiend!!"

Logan: 😮‍💨🤦‍♂️

Imagine kurt comes over knocking on the door and is about to go on a date with Logan, and Logan tries not to moan while calling out "h-hold on! Im feeding my- EERR m-mY PET!" and ofc this only makes Wade deep throat him better with a purr and a tail wag cause YEAH. He is kinda feeding his pet aint he?

But NOW they have to get a pet or else itll blow logans cover so they get mary puppins, who is also an angel who unironically wont stop barking at them when theyre fuckin cause she thinks theyre fighting or something.

Along with their tiny forms, they have their true forms:

Logan: A big feathery fuck who you should INFACT be afraid of. Wade thinks hes gorgeous and really wishes he could fuck eyeballs but is aware of how much that would hurt.

Wade: Wade is very... curly from mouth washing in his true form. He dosn't like it. He has no lips or nose or ears, his eye sockets are engorged, his eyelids are practically gone, hes bleeding everywhere, mushy soft, in pain, crunchy and gummy-fied.

His earth form is much more healed looking and hurts less, but still does, to make himself feel better and more pretty, wade will paint hearts on his skin, giving himslef heart nipples, a belly button, and will paint on a happy trail of hearts. He has them on his shoulder, his forehead, hips, cheeks and tail, his legs and if he really thinks he looks ugly today, he'll draw them on his hands and ask Logan to paint them on his back too.

Wade has an extremely long tail, no its not as strong as kurts so he cant hang from it but he can hold coffee cups and jack someone off with it with ease.

Wade is also very thin and lean. His muscles on his arms are small, his calfs are barley there, his ass is there yeah, but two of his lower ribs are showing. (He has the sluttiest waste ever man)

Wade also has horns (blowjob handles!) Sharp teeth, dark fingers, ankles, toes, he has sharp ass claw feet, two large talons and one small one in the middle like a raptor. He also has claws on his fingers that he sometimes scratches logans back with but angel blood burns him (it hurts a lot) so they try not to do so much blood play in this au.

Logan also does not have claws in the sense of it comes out of his arm, but he does have nails. He also looks like a tired youth pastor whos lowkey about to leave the church if they make him tell little kids about abstinence one more time. Or a camp counceler whos TIRED of everyone's shit and just in general.... for.. obvious reasons..

Something something I really love my bed, but, man, it's hard to sleep when he's with me Olivia Rodrigo 😩😉

[fatuismooches]

Celestia has fallen, ending a period of turmoil, meaning you and Dottore are free to do what you want with the rest of your lives - but both of you have trouble getting accustomed to this new, strangely peaceful life.

Seeing the sky completely clear save for puffy clouds was a sight that still took getting used to, after all, the island that had once been there was commonplace for everyone. But now, after a long and arduous war, and centuries of preparation and loss, it was over. Celestia had been defeated, the era of rebuilding was slow yet steady, and the Fatui had disbanded shortly after their victory.

... Meaning that you and Dottore, who once had much to do and worry about, now had... very little to do and worry about. His once-important experiments had reached their peak, and what's more, you were finally free from your illness. There was no need for all-nighters spent hastily writing notes, creating new concoctions for you, tending to the darker side of his work. Similarly, the days spent in anguish and sickness had now become a memory of the past, although your body was still slowly recovering.

So what was there to do now?

That was what you thought as you lay in the dark, cuddling close to Zandik's chest in your new home. It was an odd feeling - having him this close for days on end - sleeping with you from nightfall to the sun rising. It was once an exceedingly rare occurrence, from when he was once a busy Harbinger, but here he was still in bed. (Although he still had a habit of waking up early - whether he laid there and stared at you, or got up to find something to busy himself with was still a fifty-fifty chance.)

To be honest, now that you thought about it, you never had a real, fleshed-out plan on what to do after everything was over. All you had was the first step - acquire a spacious and cozy home in Sumeru to settle down. And well, that had been accomplished surprisingly easier than you anticipated - The Jester had gifted you such a house in a perfect spot - leaving it as a goodbye gift.

In the beginning, the days had been as leisurely as possible, bordering on lazy. Sleeping in late into the day, hours upon hours spent appreciating each other's presence and body. You defended it as making up for centuries of lost time, although Dottore didn't protest in the first place. Dinner was spent quietly outside, looking up at the sky that was no longer false. However, it was obvious both of you were growing a bit restless - which was why you quickly came up with a plethora of new things to do.

—

"Let's start a garden!"

And so had started a common goal between you two - although another issue that had been presented in this new relaxing life was Dottore's lingering hesitation to trust you with certain activities. Constantly he was keeping an eye on your every move or stepping in himself, even though he knew you could do some things yourself now.

Truthfully, you couldn't blame him, already aware that overprotectiveness that lasted centuries wouldn't go away so easily, but that was something that would have to be worked through slowly. He was still performing a routine check-up on your every day...

"Zandik, it's just digging up some soil. You're acting like the worms are going to attack me or something."

"... Just make sure not to scrap your knees."

"I'm also not a child- darling, what are you injecting into the plants...?" Your husband only smiled, his sharp teeth gleaming.

"This? Do not worry, we won't consume these ones. This is simply... a test to indulge my curiosity."

Well, you always knew his love of experimenting would never truly go away! Maybe you'll get some cool, fucked up, weird mutated plants!

—

"Let's get a kitty so Foxttore has a friend!"

Despite all the tragedy you'd endured, Foxttore was one of the few things that remained with you the whole time, even after the way. The creature quite liked Sumeru after surviving Snezhnaya - it was always lazily sunbathing and refused to come in. Dottore still kept his habit of locking it out.

The pufflings too of course - but they had made the two of you become the gossip of the children - turns out the black puff balls started playing with the kids and kept returning to your house, making them whisper about "the two weird grown-ups who live out in the middle of nowhere." You were amused.

Regardless of your reputation, now you and your husband were in the perfect environment to finally own a cute kitty. The lab wasn't exactly the ideal place for such an animal, after all.

... So now, an equally as lazy cat could be found sleeping on Zandik's lap as he read by the window, giving it languid tummy rubs and pets. Foxttore wasn't invited.

—

"Let's go exploring!"

When you had dropped this idea on Zandik, he had given you a strange look.

"All this time, you had been pleading with me to stay inside and relax, but now you wish to go and exert yourself?" Despite his remarks, you could tell Zandik wished to do something with his hands as well.

"Well, this is because it's going to be fun! It'll be like we're students again!"

And with that, you two were back inside the huge Ruin Golem in the forest. To be honest, there was not much to actually explore here, but... it was nostalgic. It was places like these where the two of you spent a lot of time together, and where he told you of his grand ambitions as a young scholar.

And even after all this time, the former Harbinger was still fascinated with the technology, already playing with something, to which you joined him. No doubt he already knew the answer, but it was something to keep his once-overworked mind occupied.

"Guess the two of us aren't cut out for this 'normal life' stuff, eh? Coming back here even though there's nothing left to be discovered. Think the notes we left are still here?"

"That's impossible. They must have long eroded by now," he briefly commented, hands still running over the cool metal.

"So... wanna test if you're still motion-sick?"

—

"Let's teach you how to cook... again!"

Loads of spare time had come with nothing better to do than to attempt to make the impossible become possible once again, which was why you had the Harbinger turned house husband in the kitchen with you, equipped with an apron you forced him to wear if he wanted any sweets.

This time you had decided to forget actual food and make one, singular, cupcake. Surely he couldn't mess that up, right?

You made him clean the kitchen after throwing out the burnt apron.

—

In conclusion, there were still lots of things that could fill the endless time you two were given. But there was still something you wanted, although you weren't sure how to bring it up.

The loss of the segments still remained a wound in your heart, although you moved on from all those years ago. More specifically, Zandy was someone you held extremely dear in your heart and memories. The child had changed your life, and Dottore's too - opening his own heart to softness - which was something you longed for too.

However, naturally, you were nervous asking Zandik about it. After all, becoming a father was probably not something he saw himself doing. Of course, your anxiety was quickly recognized by your lover, who beckoned you one night.

"What plagues your mind?" His question startled you, and although you knew he'd come around to asking eventually, you still weren't prepared to answer properly. But you knew you'd have to come out with it soon.

"There's... something I want."

"Tell me," Zandik quickly reassured you. "I'm sure it is within my capabilities."

"I... I don't know if you'd want to," you awkwardly admitted, to which your husband gave you a hard look, and then moved to squeeze your hand.

"I can only determine that if you tell me what it is you desire." With a sigh, you had to agree.

"I've been thinking... about our... family," the last word was uttered softly, as if you still couldn't believe things reached this point.

"There's you, me, Foxttore, the pufflings, our kitty Beaker, and I guess the crows around here could count too... and I love everyone a lot!" Dottore hummed in agreement, rubbing his fingers over your knuckles.

"But... what if we added someone else to our family? A... c-child, perhaps," you finally blurted out your confession, working up the courage to look at him directly. Speaking of, he had stopped wearing that mask of his now, so you were always subject to his brilliant red eyes. As such, you witnessed the gems widen slightly and his jaw slacken. Quickly you rushed to continue.

"I-I know it'll be a lot of work and responsibility but together we can do it! And I know it probably isn't something you thought of but I'll be here with you all the way... I know you won't let the past repeat itself," you murmured, well aware of how he was treated as a child. Dottore's gaze had moved to the stars, still silent at your words, which was making you worry at this point.

"If-"

"It is not something I am opposed to," Zandik finally admitted, and you had to hold back a sigh of relief.

"Truly?"

"Yes. However..." He trailed off, perhaps wondering how to articulate the fears you already knew full well - how could someone like him ever be a loving father? Did he even have that capability? How could he hold his child with his stained hands?

"I understand," you squeezed his hand. "We'll figure it out together," you promised, "just like how we figured everything else out. How else would we have stayed together for a couple hundred years?" You gently teased him to which he finally looked at you again, an unusually soft look in his eyes.

"We will," Zandik agreed, kissing you on your forehead.

—

Time continued to move, and from a student to Harbinger, Zandik now found himself a parent, who was now cuddled in between him and you - though you were already fast asleep, while his daughter had woken him up in the middle of the night. The fact that Dottore hadn't woken up earlier was a testament to how much he loosened up these past years...

"Go back to sleep. I won't take you out to the forest if you're too tired." The young girl pouted at her father's strictness.

"But it's not my fault! I'm too excited to watch you do your experimenting stuff!" (In reality, all they were doing was collecting samples of plants.) With a sigh, the man stroked her hair.

"Oh! Oh! How about you sing the song they always sing to you when you're grumpy! That always makes you relax!" His daughter seemed to have picked up some of your cheeky, bargaining habits...

"If you do, will you quiet down?" The girl quickly nodded.

"Very well..." And so, he began humming a tune, that was rather off-key despite you teaching it to him quite a few times, but his little girl didn't seem to notice much.

In the dark, you secretly smiled at the sweet interaction. To think after centuries of pain, you finally obtained such a life...

Everything would be okay, in the end.

[sillyandquiteawkward]

Do you have any tips/advice for someone doing comics? Like, shorter ones, not necessarily longer form stuff? How to plan a lil scene, set up panels, etc? Anyway, I like your comics a lot, your art is really cool and I hope you have a nice day <3

i feel like i do what you arent supposed to do, but i write a lot of my short comics from the seat of my pants. i have a general idea of what i what to accomplish, sometimes i have some dialogue and stage direction written in my notes app, and i just. draw a rectangle and start going. that tends to be why a lot of my mspaint comics tend to be talking head type deals, haha. ill try to give some proper advice, but im also just a hobbist whos taken a some classes about communication through design and comics years ago.

most comics do well if you establish a scene with a larger set piece, then you can narrow down to characters or actions. show us where we are in space, and the audience can take that knowledge and move along the other panels with a stronger suspension of disbelief. (bc comics are all about giving toys to your reader and hoping they play with you) heres the first page of my anya n swansea comic illustrating this. big location panel, then narrowing down to character moments.

you notice as i focus more on dialogue, that my scenery gets left out. this is bc theres only so much space in a panel, so i need to choose what gets shown. of course this depends on what medium you work with, but the gist is the same amongst all types. dont give your reader TOO much to play with or they might get confused, or will start skimming. not what we want!

for shorter comics, id suggest something eye catching right at the beginning to catch readers attention. if you have multiple "pages" or breaks in the comic, make sure the last panel before the next page is enticing. be it a punchline or cliff hanger, something to keep the reader interested. jingle those keys. in general most short comics need to end on a punchline or satisfaction or deep thought. something for the reader to chew on after their done reading, or to inspire rereading. makes for a satisfying read!

but it also depends on how you want to structure a comic page. this comic of anya and curly i did is very different than the previous one i showed, and i think its one of my fav recent comics. it starts with a weird piece of dialogue that makes you ask "what does that mean" which gets answered by the next panels. theres visual and spoken repetition, theres very little said, and its short and sweet. very easy to read and reread, so its easy to take in, and its easy for the reader to sit with it longer and ponder it more. and be able to draw their own conclusions. play touys with meeee

i think when it comes to planning scenes, it depends on what you want the reader to get out of it. when i was planning this comic page, i really wanted to mention that curlys tear ducts probably dont work, and anyas been wearing the same contact lenses for months! i wanted to showcase their similarities and how they mirror each other narratively and i had the idea to use the onomatopoeia of drip to stand in for the drip of saline. but i didnt have any solid ideas past that. but i do like showcasing mundane sort of events, so i thought maybe just a simple exchange of using saline to wet curlys eye, and then her eyes. initially the idea to literally copy and paste the action of applying the saline was out of ease so i didnt have to draw it again, but i found that it worked for the narrative, so i leaned into that. i flipped anya around to better convey them as on either side of the mirror, and had anya repeat her dialogue.

something else to debate about in layout, is making sure the comic isnt too unbalanced (unless thats a theme/motif youre wanting to work with) in this comic page, anya always remains on the left side, except the first panel where she is on the right. i Could have swapped her and her dialogue in the first panel, so she stays on the left and better mirrors curly in panel 3, but if i did that, the comic would be very left heavy. anyas hair and her clothes are a heavy, dark color, it takes up a lot of visual attention. i thought the comic would look more pleasant for anya to be on the right in the first panel to balance it out, as i didnt find much narrative use for her to be on the left side always. the reader would still read the comic left to right and follow the typical reading pattern regardless. to make up for this, in panel 3, curly mirrors the angle she's at in panel 1, its not an exact mirror, but its enough that i was satisfied with it.

in other comics, it might be easier to play with how the eye would move across the page. regardless, its something important to keep in mind. you have to assume how the reader will read your comic, and if youre going to be breaking the rules, you need to put in lots of safeguards to make sure the reader can understand what youre doing. too much dialogue in confusing places? work with the speech bubbles to create hierarchy and flow so the reader knows how to read everything in order. number one rule of design we were taught was people are stupid, so you have to play at their level, or baby proof your level DX designers and artists know all the rules, but readers dont have a grasp on the rules themselves, just the vibes of the rules.

the most important thing with comics is legibility. if the reader cant understand or follow the comic, it might as well be like them not reading it at all. and the worst thing that could happen is they think what youre doing is pointless. so you have to juggle what you want to accomplish, what the reader can understand, what the medium limits you to, and what rules you think you can get away with breaking.

hope this is some sort of satisfying answer! i feel like im always hit or miss with advice XD;;

[ladysternchen]

Last part:

And last but not least we have my current WIP A Deed Unforgiven, an AU about the Eglath losing the First Battle, in which Elu is captured by Morgoth's orcs, tortured and then dragged half-dead before Círdan's gates. The fic then deals with the events of a FA-Beleriand in which Doriath never exists. 

Three little snippets

1)

They were lost. He knew it. 

Galadhon. 

Denethor. 

So many of the Greenelves, so many of his people. Mablung as the last of his guard. 

His sword was hewn from his hand as he was finally spent, having fought through many days without proper pause or rest. 

He remembered Melian sobbing as she bade him goodbye, begging him to return. He would not now, as he calmly awaited the next stroke that would finally end it.

It didn’t.

And that was no relief.

2)

Círdan was close to despairing. The battle had gone ill for him, with the orcs driving his forces swiftly back to Eglarest and Brithombar, where he sat now, besieged. 

“Elu, where are you?” he whispered under his breath, like he did every time he looked over the ramparts of the fortress. 

That his cousin had not yet come to his aid frightened him, because it could only mean that Elu had either lost the battle or indeed deemed the situation hopeless and would not lead his people to slaughter. Círdan understood, he truly did, and yet could not help resenting it. On the other hand, Elu knew as well as he himself did that the orcs had no chance of breaking through the defences of the cities, so that the Falathrim were safe for now, even if the siege seemed unlikely to end anytime soon. That, of course, was a third possibility- that Elu himself was now under siege in Menegroth. Círdan hoped not, for unlike his cities, Menegroth had no sea accessible that could provide its inhabitants with food. But whatever the reason, Elu’s forces had as yet not reached the Falas, which meant that Círdan had no other choice but to stay put, and watch the loathesome orcs scurrying around just out of reach of their arrows. All the more startling it was, therefore, when one of the foul orcs stepped forth -by the looks of it something like a captain- and demanded with a loud voice that Círdan talk to him.

“Hail Círdan, lord of the Falas!” the captain shouted in obvious mockery. “We have a bargain to offer to ya!”

Círdan laughed mirthlessly. A bargain. Of course.

“Your lord does not bargain.” he shouted back, putting all the contempt he could muster into those words. 

The orc, however, ignored Círdan’s objections, going on as if there had been no interruption.

“Get yerself and yer people gone and we shall let ya pass safely. There are some maggoty isles for ya out at sea that we don’t like. But we do like Beleriand.”

“Aye…” Círdan mocked  “…you let us pass safely. I am sure you will. Well, thank you, but tell your lord no, thank you!”

The orc sneered.

“He said ya’d say that. Well then, maybe we have something to make ya rethink!”

The ramparts were suddenly filled with the noise of the watching Falathrim drawing their breath as the orcs dragged a naked elf before the gates by the hair, and their gasps of terror as they recognised him.

“They have got the king…”

Círdan held his breath, physically unable to draw air into his lungs. So that was their true purpose, trying to draw him out. And oh, what terrible irony to have his question answered so. He had never, ever, wanted to have it answered at all if said answer was “in the enemy’s clutches’. 

Círdan watched almost against his will as they jerked his cousin into an upright position for everyone to see, the pity and grief he felt ripping at his heart. The orcs had bound Elu’s hands behind his back, and there were burns and slashes all across his body that spoke of the torture he must have undergone ere they had led him here. Also, as Elu had made no attempt to stand or move his legs at all, Círdan strongly suspected that he could not, due to injuries to his legs or indeed his spine.

Then the orc that held him up put a knife to his throat, leering.

“No!”

Círdan was not aware of shouting out, he had not even realised that he must have drawn breath after all.

“Pity…” sneered the orc, speaking as if Círdan’s anguished cry had been the answer to his former suggestion. “I shall be almost sad to end it already. This one has been a lot of fun to play with!”

Círdan was shaking. All he wanted to do was run out of the gates himself to try and save Elu, whom he loved so deeply. As if his cousin had heard his thoughts though, he called to back to Círdan, who was surprised to hear his voice quite steady.

“Whatever they do to me, stay where you are, Círdan!”

“Silence!”

He watched in horror as the orc slid the blade across Elu’s throat, and as blood spilled from the wound, running down his cousin’s bare chest. Yet the strike had not been true, nothing but a foul jest to torture them all. He stared at Elu, who had betrayed no outward sign of pain, or maybe he was so numbed with the horror of his torture that he indeed did not feel it anymore. 

3)

His lips cool against hers, and so painfully familiar. With his mind open to her as always, she sensed his despair as if it were her own, and it was her own. Everything around them, the voices of the others saying their own heartbreaking farewells, the horses neighing and pawing the ground restlessly, the sounds of their men in armour mounting their mail-clad steeds, all became but a distant rustle, insignificant against the tragedy of their parting. Melian was loathe to release Elu from her arms and knew that he, too, could have spent forever in their embrace, in their kiss. But he needed to break it, needed to be gone. 

“If I do not let go of you quickly, I shall never have the strength to.” he thought to her, and they broke apart just enough to look into each other’s eyes.

“Please come back!” Melian whispered, her hands still on his cheeks, tears choking her voice. 

For all their shared power, at the end of the day they were just lovers, a couple like any other, and their parting hurt her as it hurt him, far more than any orc-blade ever could.

One of those days when I'm rotating the First Battle and the fact that the Sindar and Nandor fought a brutal war against Morgoth before the Noldor arrived.

Please please share your Sindar war trauma snippets and headcanons. I crave it.

[zetsu--bou]

Breaking Bad Ball but it's Aomine and Harasawa

[puppppppppy]

doodles of my fav sillies

anton belongs to @poicyss

[luck-of-the-drawings]

"And soda; runs off into the street..." "...and soda... is totally okay!"

[ancient-bloodslut]

Finding out swifties have been fighting iwtv fans made me have visions and i created whatever this is in a complete daze

[breadbox-draws]

practice and revelatory goofs, starting with everyones favorite banana

(feat. a brief moment of okiroash’s fiansissel design!)

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

uhhhh i think they were kinda fucked

[jaal-ama-daravv]

despite the complexity and heartache of my life 12 months ago - im grateful that I have found peace, and the ability to dream and hope, and love still.

[azuzula]

testing out a new style of rendering with this guy

[almalex24]

yaayyyyyyyyy

[madaqueue]

i only cried once today after being yelled at/scolded for two hours straight!!!!! i would like my hug and pat on the head for being so good now please!!!!!!!

[rolandkaros]

gonna get emotional abt this for a moment sorry. i have to believe taylor can win a slam. like i dont know what it is i cant explain it there is just something inside of me that thinks if i stop believing he can win a grand slam then everything i love about the sport of tennis must be annulled. so i have to believe he can.