#shitpost fic masterlist

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Arcana Brainrot: Blog Rules, Masterlists, Playlist, & Requests Guidelines

Come chat on the Discord server!

Current MC ask game

BLOG RULES:

My inbox is always open for anybody to share their thoughts or ideas! This blog is largely archival now, though, so prompts will likely not get written.

I don't think it needs to be said but hate isn't welcome here. Of any kind.

Please also keep in mind that this blog is PG-13, so whatever comments you make on it will likely be seen by minors. I take their safety seriously, so if there's anything grossly X rated in the comments (I don't see why there should be) I will delete it. If you continue to comment things like that you will be blocked :)

With my older brother rant out of the way, please enjoy the results of me trying to cope with a truly Vesuvian obsession :D

MASTERLISTS: oldest to newest, I'll do my best to update as I post.

All quotes for Arcana characters sent in have this tag: #arcana brainrot quote collection

Because of the link limit for posts, you can find the masterlist for all full headcanons below:

The Arcana HCs : Brainrot's Masterlist

The Arcana HCs : Brainrot's Masterlist, Pt 2

And here is the masterlist for all my mini-prompts, answered ask arcana style:

The Arcana Mini-HCs: Brainrot's Masterlist

The Arcana Mini-HCs: Brainrot’s Masterlist, Pt 2

The Arcana Mini-HCs: Brainrot's Masterlist, Pt 3

The Arcana Mini-HCs: Brainrot's Masterlist, Pt 4

The Arcana Mini-HCs: Brainrot's Masterlist, Pt 5

The Arcana Mini-HCs: Brainrot's Masterlist, Pt 6

A masterlist for drabbles, with an explanation at the top for how they work!

The Arcana Drabbles: Explanation and Masterlist

All the recipes posted by the originals devs from the Arcana universe, with pictures of my own creation attempts and descriptions of how it went!

The Arcana Food

Worldbuilding/character analysis essays ^.^ (not a comprehensive list atm, unfortunately)

The Arcana Essays: Brainrot's Masterlist

Finally got around to fleshing out my self-insert enough to make him a proper MC/ OC!

Bainrot's self-insert MC (Drue)

Vesuviella: my first fanfic. don't get your hopes up (updated sporadically)

Summary: Julian decided to write his own version of Cinderella to be performed in the Community Theatre, and then recruited MC to help him cast the rest of the M6 in the leading roles. Chaos ensues. (There is no determined love interest, MC is friends with the M6 and M6 are all thirsty for MC.)

Vesuviella: All Parts

Arcana Brainrot Playlist: a compilation of all character song suggestions in one Spotify playlist, kept up to date!

Arcana Brainrot Playlist (Spotify)

Arcana Brainrot Playlist (YouTube)

REQUEST GUIDELINES - NO LONGER TAKING REQUESTS

Generally, I pick from what's in my asks and write what sparks inspiration. If there's an idea you'd really like to see written, you're welcome to message me directly about it! ^.^

I don't write about toxic/abusive relationships or dynamics between MC and the M6 (I get the appeal, I'm not judging, but it's not for me)

I don't write for M6 x M6 ships - side character ships are on the table, though!

All of my work is PG-13. (yes to romantic/sensual themes and references to painful experiences, no to explicit matter or glorified violence/pain/death/toxicity)

I'm willing to do research for topics I'm not familiar with, but there are plenty of things I can't write about just because I haven't lived it and I know an hour of research wouldn't be enough to be accurate (and respecting other people's experiences is important)

I am unfortunately very familiar with what it's like to have trauma/mental illnesses. That said, while I'm very happy to explore how that impacts MC and their relationships, there are some prompts I may take a very long time to do or just not write at all because they would mess me up

In general, keeping the prompt relatively short (a sentence to a paragraph) helps me organize them better! The same goes for asks sent with a visible blog - if I have questions, I can reach out to you for more details! ^.^

Both my asks and messages are open because I love hearing from new people! If you abuse that you will be blocked :)

All of the above points have reasons for them, and are therefore subject to change. If you have an idea that you'd really like to see and you're not sure about, just message me! I can either tell you why I can't do it or I can make an exception depending on the case

RELEVANT FANDOM HAPPENINGS

(I don't do drama on my page, but these are some posts that provide transparency and accountability for some of the things I've been caught up in)

To the Arcana Fandom, From Brainrot

An update on Rai/Kip

[minhosimthings]

ALRIGHT HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT

WHAT IF

✨I make a royal Enhypen series based on French Quotes and it's a different trope for each one✨

[skiiyoomin]

⤑Back to navigation

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

ღWhat I think the Crows listen to

Kaz Brekker

Have you seen the way this man dresses? He dresses like a merchant and acts like one. He's definitely a very classy guy, hence the reason why I firmly believe he's the type of person that listens to jazz and soul music.

YOU CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE

Listens to Frank Sinatra, Michael Bublé, Dean Martin

I've seen so many people classify him as the type to listen to hard core rock like Green Day, and although I understand why, I genuinely feel like Kaz is the type of person who enjoys the sound of the saxophone, the old school type of songs that your mom listened to when she was in high school.

I will forever stand by my point

Honorable mention: ABBA (He will never admit how much he enjoys their music)

INEJ GHAFA

To me she's a mix of 80s type of music and Taylor Swift. Like there's literally no in between.

I think Taylors more recent songs make her feel empowered in a way after everything she went through in the Menagerie.

Definitely enjoys her older songs though! I feel like she enjoys a lot of acoustic music and often shares it with Wylan.

As for the 80s taste, like you can't just tell me she doesn't listen to ABBA on a daily.

Honorable mention: Queen, just because.

NINA ZENIK

I think this one is pretty obvious

Pop queen all the way!!

Listens to the trendiest artists like Ariana Grande and Nikki Minaj.

Is always onto the next trendy song, never missing out on any.

She just lives for the poppy type of music that had you dancing on the spot no matter what!

She has definitely rubbed it a little bit onto Matthias

Screams the lyrics to Doja Cat songs with Jesper. PERIOD.

Honorable mention: One Direction, because I believe in my heart she has always been a Directioner and she bawled her eyes out when they disbanded.

MATTHIAS HELVAR

Either hard rock music or classical music. There is literally no in between.

Very emo, you can't convince me otherwise

Huge fan of artists like Pink Floyd, AC/DC, Green Day. THOSE type of artists

I'm a firm believer that he went through an emo phase in his life where the only music he listened to was My Chemical Romance and Panic! At the Disco.

Still cries to this day because of MCRs disbandment. Nina definitely teases him for it.

Honorable mention: Lady Gaga, because like I said before, Nina in some way has definitely influenced his taste. Lady Gaga is the bomb tho, I don't blame him.

JESPER FAHEY

Not gonna lie, I had a hard time figuring him out.

I think out of everyone, he has the most varied taste in music. Will listen to literally anything based simply on his mood.

Like Nina, he listens to pop the most. But I think he leans more towards older type of pop songs.

The type of songs you heard in your childhood that bring back core memories.

LOTS of club type of music like Usher, Pitbull, Britney Spears. Definitely a fun person to go clubbing with.

Honorable mention: The Neighbourhood. I am emotionally attached to The Neighbourhood, and I am emotionally attached to Jesper. I just HAD to put this in here.

WYLAN VAN ECK

Ok so the obvious answer would be soft type of music. Lots of acoustic type of songs.

LOVES artists like JVKE and Harry Styles.

BUT

he has another side that a lot of people forget to mention (aka book Wylan)

His guilty pleasures are the sluttiest type of songs. I'm talking The Weeknd, Chase Atlantic.

So many people picture him as a soft boy type of aesthetic and although it's somewhat true, so many people forget the "We could wake them up" Wylan.

Honorable mention: Arctic Monkeys, just like im emotionally attached to The Neighborhood, im just as attached to Arctic Monkeys and I know for a fact Wylan enjoys that type of music.

I said what I said.

[the-real-milo]

Beauty, Terror, and Everything Inbetween

summary: hogwarts fight club mixed with some postwar ptsd and some bloodlust, emphasis on lust

word count: 3k 

read on ao3!

check out my masterlist of fics, and join the taglist to be notified when i post!

Taglist: @mawofmeraxes @chimeraofchaos

Draco Malfoy’s lip was split open, his nose was dripping blood on his once-pristine tie, and his eyes were gleaming with a bloodlust Harry hadn’t seen in months. And, Harry thought, he had never looked better.

It was technically Ron’s idea to initiate Hogwarts’s first Fight Club. Having five brothers, he was used to disputes being settled with an arm wrestle or even a one-round pindown. So, when Ron and Dean were having a tiff over who got to eat the last blueberry scone at tea time, Ron suggested an arm wrestle. Winner takes the cake, literally. And, in that case, Ron took the cake. It was a simple affair, a one-and-done. 

However, Seamus bet Ron that in any two out of three, his boyfriend would beat Ron’s ass. Ron, like a magical Marty McFly, could not withstand being called chicken and took the bet. The first bet started at one bronze knut. Of course, Hermione took care of the gambling mathematics, though she did so with plenty of disapproving glares at the boys. After Ron won his hard-earned knut, Neville challenged him and won Ron’s knut from there.

Susan Bones, at the Hufflepuff table, challenged Neville, but before Hermione could call the round (and, Hermione was judged to be the only person both smart enough and unbiased enough to be judge) Headmistress McGonagall shut the game down. Something about gambling or physical violence not being encouraged, Harry wasn’t really sure. He was sure that the last time all the houses had collaborated on something was for Dumbledore’s Army/ the war they had all been forced into.

So, when tea ended, Ron suggested everyone head up to the Room of Requirement to finish the Bones v. Longbottom stand-off. Everyone agreed, and when they found the room, there were bleachers and a wrestling ring waiting for them. Though Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors had come up to watch their respective champions, and a few curious Ravenclaws shuffled in, no Slytherins attended the first official match. Some people argued that they shouldn’t be invited at all, but Hermione lectured everyone with something boring about Germany after World War I, and either they understood or were too afraid to argue with her. 

The next day, Malfoy showed up with Zabini. They stood in the back for all the matches, whispering to each other, and bet on nothing. Neither of them spoke to Harry, though Zabini gave him a polite nod on his way out. 

One week, when there were few viewers left besides immediate friends of the fighters and, truthfully, even they had grown bored with the great sport of arm wrestling, someone suggested that they have “real” fights, though no one remembers who that was. Everyone In the room immediately shot down the idea, until Neville punched Ron (albeit, lightly) in the face, and Ron hit him back, and everyone was hooked. More people showed up, more money was bet, and more fun was had. 

Harry was surprised with how fun the fighting was; he hadn’t lost a single match, though many had wanted to challenge the Chosen One. Beyond winning, though, it had been a long time since Harry did something for the fun of it - years, at least.  

After a particularly good fight with Ginny, who didn’t hold punches like some of the others, Harry stepped outside the Room of Requirement for a breather only to see Malfoy leaning against the wall.

They stood quietly next to each other. Harry hadn’t talked to Malfoy since the war. The feud between them had seemingly fizzled out, and Harry didn’t know how to deal with Malfoy the person, rather than Malfoy the archenemy. Once you battle and kill the literal evilest person in the world, petty rivalries don’t seem so important.

“Do you enjoy beating up your friends?” Malfoy says stoically, unmoving from the wall. 

Harry whips his head around to look at Malfoy, who seems nonchalant, but has tightly clenched, slightly shaking fists.

“It’s all in good fun.” Harry replies calmly, not matching Malfoy’s attitude. No one’s forcing him to be up here; Whatever problem he has, he can deal with on his own.

“Didn’t we all go through enough fighting?” Malfoy continues, “Aren’t you tired?” 

Harry looks at Malfoy, really looks at him, for the first time since the war. He had dark circles under his eyes, and had lost weight in a way that made his cheeks look sunken in. 

“Yeah, I am,” Harry replies, “But somehow, this helps. It’s… cathartic, in a way.” Malfoy looked up at Harry, at first in confusion, then in determination. He grabbed Harry by the wrist, and pulled him back into the Room of Requirement. 

“We’re next.” Malfoy announced to the room, which was met with complaints by those occupying the waiting list. 

“We’re next.” Harry confirmed, to which the complainers promptly shut up.

Malfoy dropped Harry’s wrist, and then stood in the middle of the ring, looking somewhat lost. Harry followed him up and removed his outer robe, which Malfoy copied. While Harry was wearing a Gryffindor sweater to combat the winter chill, Malfoy was in his usual posh dress, vest and all. 

“Do you know how to form a fist?” Harry asked, quietly. Malfoy shook his head, eyes faced towards the floor of the ring. 

Harry took Malfoy’s left hand, but Malfoy immediately went stiff and shook his head. 

The dark mark, Harry thought to himself.

Without saying a word, he takes Malfoy’s right hand, and pushes down all his fingers, and cages the front two in with his thumb. Malfoy copies this himself with his left hand, and Harry nods his approval.

“Ready?” Hermione calls, after collecting all the bets for the round. Both boys nod, and the room counts down from three. On one, neither boys move.

“Come on,” Harry says, with a hint of a smile, “You know you want t-”

And Malfoy’s fist comes down on Harry’s cheek, much harder than he expected. Harry looks at him in shock, and Malfoy just shrugs, a new grin on his face. Harry matches the grin, and goes for Malfoy’s solar plexus. They continue trading blows without stopping until their three minutes are up, and Hermione blows her whistle. Both boys are breathing hard, but neither of them have any visible damage. Malfoy looks exhilarated, but after a couple of seconds he runs out of the ring to the trash can that just appeared in the corner of the room, and releases the majority of his stomach contents.

“Looks like Harry wins,” Hermione says lightly, and cheers go up from around the room. 

Harry just makes his way over to Malfoy, who is shaking slightly in the corner, but is otherwise okay. 

“Give me a second, and I’ll shake your hand like a proper good sport.” Malfoy says good-naturedly.

“That’s okay, mate” Harry grins, “You’ll have a chance when I beat you again.” 

Malfoy chuckles, but then retches again into the trash bin. Harry is hesitant, but he slides onto the floor next to Malfoy and rubs his back lightly. He tenses up at first, but then melts into Harry’s touch. They sit like that for the rest of the day’s matches. 

Hermione schedules Harry in to fight Malfoy once a week. Their second fight goes pretty much the same as the first, with Malfoy excavating his guts as soon as the time is up.

“If you want to have a chance at beating me, you have to take care of yourself.” Harry says to Draco, sitting beside him once again.

“I do!” Malfoy says crossly, but this is such an obvious lie that Harry does not feel the need to point it out.

“Tomorrow. 6am, Forbidden Forest. I need a jogging partner.”

Malfoy looks like he wants to protest, but he just shrugs his shoulders. Harry sighs, but doesn’t leave Malfoy’s side. 

Harry gets to the forest at 6, fully expecting Malfoy to no-show, but he’s already there, the tips of his nose and ears already showing pink. 

Malfoy gives Harry a small smile, makes Harry’s stomach do this funny flip-flopping thing that he decidedly ignores. 

They start jogging together down Harry’s usual trail, and they almost fall into silence when Harry starts to recount the story of Aragog to Malfoy. He’s a good listener, asking engaging questions and making the appropriate reactions to Harry’s story. He then tells his own story, of an awful detention served in the forest. The two boys trade stories like this for the entire run, and they almost can’t believe it when it’s time to head back to the school for breakfast. When they get to the Great Hall, Draco makes to go to the Slytherin table when Harry asks, “Stay with me?” 

Draco looks hesitant, but nods in agreement, and Harry gives him a grateful smile. They head to the Gryffindor table, where Hermione looks at Harry approvingly, and Ron is too busy eating to notice anything amiss.

At first, he just sits there, taking in the Gryffindors’ conversations. Harry stares at Draco until he picks up the nearest thing, a blueberry muffin, and puts it on his plate. He continues to watch Draco, who looks Harry in the eyes for every single bite he takes. Once the last of the muffin is gone, Harry awards Draco with a quick side-squeeze of a hug. Draco wasn’t expecting that, but he leans into it.

“Hey, when did Malfoy get here?” Ron asks, mouth half full. 

Harry and Draco look at each other, and break out into laughter - neither of them note it, but it’s the first time they laugh together. 

The sixth fight is the first one that Draco gets through without getting sick. At the end, he looks out of breath and completely soaked with sweat, but he stands tall.

“I’m proud of you,” Harry murmurs in his ear, and Draco blushes deeply as Harry is declared the winner once again. 

Every day, they jog together, they eat meals together, and they learn more about each other than they have in the past seven years.  

Their eighth and last year at Hogwarts is more than two-thirds over, and not everyone handles it well. The Slytherins throw nightly ragers that blend into one another, the parties bleeding over into one another until they’re indistinguishable. After a class ends, there’s always an inevitable straggler who sits in the classroom, staring at the familiar walls and imprinting them to memory. 

Harry and Draco sometimes stay in the Forbidden Forest long past when they’re done jogging, and talk about their plans for the future. 

“You know, I always wanted to be a healer,” Draco reveals one day, leaning against Harry as they sit before their favorite oak tree.

“Healer Malfoy,” Harry tries the title out on his tongue, and Draco smiles, those smiles that have become less of a rarity and more habit. 

Harry doesn’t know what he’ll do after Hogwarts. Of course, Hermione has her twenty year plan, and Ron would follow her anywhere. When it had been time to study for Owls and to pick a career path, Harry was sure he would die in service to the wizarding world, but mostly Dumbledore. Now that Dumbledore was gone, and the war definitively over, Harry wasn’t sure what to do with himself. 

“You could become a Healer, with me!” Draco suggests one day, and Harry laughs at the idea. He never excelled at school, not really, not beyond what was expected, and he wouldn’t want to go into the career knowing he could be nothing more than average.

“You could stay here,” McGonagall suggests to him one day, but Harry knows that isn’t right either. 

As Draco gets stronger, and the boys become more comfortable with one another, their fights become more brutal. They really let loose, their anger and frustration and confusion all coming out and being laid bare.

It’s the day of their last fight of the year, and they are the first to arrive at the Room of Requirement, just as they planned. They sit in the back of the empty bleachers, waiting.

“I guess this is it,” Harry says, somewhat awkwardly. He doesn’t know what to do. He never does, not when it counts.

Draco says nothing, and just sits there with Harry until the crowds appear. He’s been getting dangerously close to beating Harry, so the bets are more varied now, meaning more money for the winner. 

Finally, the crowds arrive. Harry and Draco are the last fight of the day, and they watch the other matches together, still in silence.

“Talk to me, Draco,” Harry says almost pleadingly. 

“I -” Draco swallows thickly. He doesn’t answer any further. He has that defensive sneer back on his face, the one he hasn’t shown since they were kids who had to be brave. 

Harry doesn’t press him any further, but sneaks his hand into Draco’s when he’s sure everyone else is concentrating on the fight. Draco doesn’t hold Harry’s hand, not really, but he doesn’t let him go, either. 

By the last match before theirs, though, Draco is gripping Harry’s hand so hard that it’s turned bone white.

 When it’s their turn to fight, Draco lets go of Harry’s hand quickly, as if shocked that he’s still holding on. Draco walks up to the ring, back stiff, and ignores the cheers and taunts of the crowd. Harry does the same, solely focused on Draco. He’s not alright, Harry can tell that much. If only he knew how to fix it, he would, he would. But Harry’s not sure he can, anymore. 

He’s about to call off the fight when Hermione starts the match and Draco throws a punch that hits him squarely in the cheekbone. And it stings. But Harry doesn’t move, just looks at Draco, worrying. 

“Fight me, Potter,” Draco says, through gritted teeth, “It’s a fight. Hit me, for Salazar’s Sake!” By the end, Draco was shouting through a silent room.

“Why should I?” Harry asks, carefully. If Draco shows any hint of breaking, he’ll walk out, possibly dragging a kicking and screaming Draco behind him.

“I was told this was supposed to be cathartic,” And Draco grins, and it’s wild, and it’s terrifying, and it’s beautiful. “Give me your catharsis, Harry,”

And then the fight, the one they’ve been waiting for all their lives, finally starts. It’s not just fists, but hands and claws and teeth. Draco kicks at Harry’s shin, sending him to his knees. Harry looks up at him like he’s at the altar and Draco is his god, his beautiful god who is striking him down for all the sins he hasn’t committed yet. Harry pulls at Draco’s vest, dragging the boy down to his level, and reverse slams him to the ground. He cradles Draco’s head as they both fall and twists so that Draco is underneath him. Once Draco is pinned to the ground beneath him, Harry is able to land punch after punch before Draco is able to catch his arm and yank him down. Draco bites the muscle between Harry’s shoulder and when he is released, Harry can see the gleam of his own blood on Draco’s teeth. 

The three minute timer rings unnoticed.

All their fears about the future, their bitterness, their repentance, their sorrow, is lost in the fight. Perhaps lost isn’t the right word - it’s shared between them, given as gifts and burdens that both boys are fighting to hold up, alone. Two Atlases, holding up the same world, learning to share the burden. 

Finally, Harry collapses in a corner, Draco kneeling between his thighs and holding Harry’s face between his hands. 

Draco Malfoy’s lip was split open, his nose was dripping blood on his once-pristine tie, and his eyes were gleaming with a bloodlust Harry hadn’t seen in months. And, Harry thought, he had never looked better.

No one is declared a winner. The crowds shuffle out slowly, ushered by Hermione, who checks the boys quickly for concussions before exiting herself. 

“I know what you did,” Draco pants, still holding onto Harry as if scared he’ll run away (which Harry does not possess the strength to do, even if he wanted to. He doesn’t want to, for the record.)

“It was going to be a surprise. Tonight. At my victory party.” Somehow, Harry manages a crooked grin, though it hurts to do so. 

“You bought Malfoy Manor.” Harry had bought the mansion weeks ago, with the winnings from his weekly fights. He told no one, though less so because of the surprise factor and more so that he was scared Draco would reject it. Most people don’t want to live in their childhood home forever, but after being orphaned during the war, Harry figured Draco would want some semblance of his parents around him.

“For you. For us. I was thinking we could be … roommates, or something,” Harry managed to stutter out. Draco doesn’t say anything, so Harry continues, panicking.

“Or I could just, you could live alone? I don’t mean to force my way, I mean, it’s completely up to you. I just wanted to- “

Draco kisses Harry then, moving his hands from Harry’s cheekbones to his jaw to his neck. On Harry’s part, he can’t move much, or even sit up straight, but he kisses back with all the force he possesses. Harry can taste his own blood in Draco’s mouth, and it only pushes him further. 

Maybe they’ve jumped off a cliff they can’t return from, but if so they both jumped too long ago to even regret the choice.

“You bought me a house.” Draco says, as soon as he’s able to separate himself from Harry. 

“I bought you a house.” And they both laugh at the absurdity of it, the certainty and uncertainty baked into the action. 

“Stay with me,” Draco whispers into Harry’s neck, and Harry nods and holds Draco tighter than he’s ever dared to before. 

[sansaorgana]

i hate hate hate hate hate hate this website :)))

[vivwritesfics]

Hey there, my name is Vivi, I'm 21, from the UK and I write for Formula One and Top Gun Maverick (among other things). My library account is @vivreadsfics where I rb all my favourite fics

My reblog account is @vivreblogs, where i shitpost lmao

Feel free to buy me a coffee ☕☕

Here you can find my masterlists

REQUEST RULES

UPLOAD SCHEDULE

Formula One

Top Gun Maverick

Lewis Pullman

AUgust Birthday Celebration

Other

[leafostuff]

My Masterlist (2024 Ver)

[F] Fluff

A tale of a Owl and Bunny (Chaehyun)

Welcome to the CATS Club (Chaehyun)

Taste Of Love (Jaehee) [Debut Fic]

Advanced Hugology (Jihan)

Birthday Kisses (Jihan)

Frozen in the Moment (Jihan)

A Tent for the Two of us (Jihan)

This Side of you (Chaeryoung)

It's Just a Nightmare (ITZY Yuna)

Meteor Shower (Minseo)

A King without a queen, a Princess without a knight (Bona)

Our Little Secret (Miihi)

Mood (Wonyoung)

Eyes on me (Liz)

Stop Teasing (Nagyung)

Insecurities (Jiheon)

Never Forever (Chaewon)

Campfire Talk (CSR Yuna)

Cuddle Party (All of CSR) [Collab with @erospandemos]

Fluffy Pancakes, Fluffy Girl (Geumhee)

Adjectives Thrown Around (CSR Yuna)

Would you (Karina)

Short and Sweet (Lesserafim Yunjin)

Tingles (Kiss of life Natty)

[S] Smut (18+)

Nana Potter (Nana)

One Heck of a Joyride (Nana) [Collab with @octoberautumnbox]

A Very cheerful Halloween (Nako)

Camera Shy (Nako) [Part of Off*iz Hours]

"Tool" Assisted (Nagyung)

No Names Needed (Sheon)

Her money dont jiggle jiggle (but her boobs sure do) (Nayoung)

Messes in Distress (Jihan and Zoa of Weeekly)

Private Appreciation (Triple S nien)

Double Mountain (Weeekly Jihan)

Operant Conditioning (WooAh's Nana X Jo Yuri) [FXF]

Blind sexDate [StayC's Isa & Chaeyoung Fromis_9)

[O] Other

Chaehyun as a Pokemon Trainer (Chaehyun)

What if Polyamorous relationship with Jihan and Wonyoung (Jihan and Wonyoung)

What If Hikaru and Bahiyyih were a Couple (Hikaru and Bahiyyih)

Han Sohee as a Pokemon Trainer (Han Sohee)

[S] Shitpost

* lifowrits - gel sex

[temis-de-leon]

One-shots

Main Masterlist

�� = Popular // 💫 = My favourite // 🩷 = Requested

.

.

Fics:

Lonely MC – gn!reader: how I imagine MC's last moments before being summoned to the Devildom

Peaceful waters – Levi x gn!reader: Levi understands your sadness the most

MC with a selfish best friend – fem!reader 💫: someone in the human realm starts to destroy MC's spirits. The brothers try their best to make her feel better

Solomon x gn!reader in traditional goth wardrobe 🩷: being used to seeing MC as a cute black sheep, Solomon can't help but stare when he discovers MC's true appearence

Solomon x Insecure fem!S/O 🩷: when MC doubts her body, Solomon is quick to show how much he loves it

When Greed is too much - Mammon x gn!reader 🩷: Mammon and MC's luck in the casino runs out and, if that wasn't enough, Lucifer catches them when they sneak back into the house

MC as the future king of the Devildom – Diavolo x male!reader 🩷💫: Diavolo discovers a magical object in the castle that isn't what it seems; a mirror with a reflection that doesn't show what is real

10 signs a cow is happy – Belphie x gn!MC: a series of drabbles about Belphie and MC describing all the signs the Avatar of Sloth is happy

Headcanons:

About demonic pregnancy

Mammon is the type of boyfriend 🌟

Asmo is the type of boyfriend

Simple signs of affection (everyone) 🌟: small things you do that makes them love you even more

Demon Brothers as Single Fathers – gn!reader: what if the brothers already had a child before MC was first summoned to the Devildom?

Dateables as Single Fathers – gn!reader

Bold and confident gn!reader (Mammon, Levi, Asmo) 🩷

Gn!MC with thick curly hair (Lucifer, Mammon, Satan, Asmo) 🩷

Gn!MC with chronic joint pain (Mammon, Levi, Asmo, Beel, Belphie) 🩷

Gn!MC with super long hair (Lucifer, Levi, Satan, Beel, Diavolo) 🩷

Who’s their emergency contact (Demon Brothers) 🌟

Southern gn!MC who spoils the brothers with their cooking (Lucifer, Mammon, Beel) 🩷

Gn!MC with tactile hypersensitivity (Mammon, Asmo, Belphie, Barbatos) 🩷

When they don't know you as well as they thought (House of Lamentation) - gn!reader: meeting your human friends and family makes them realize they assumed too much about you (TBA)

Imagine:

What would happen if Mammon didn’t want to be Greed anymore?

Pathetic Diavolo 💫

Poly!MC and the sleeping curse 🌟

Shitposting:

Peeling skin TikTok joke 🌟

What I would watch with them

The royals are boomers

Lucifer is Julius Caesar

.

.

[blerb-f1]

"The Future" - Sebastian Vettel x reader

The news truly shocked me and compelled me to write this.

Lewis Hamilton is a side character in this.

not proofread i dont have the mental capacity rn

This fic also is kinda part of a series, but it can stand on it's own! For more, view my masterlist.

-------

“Have you considered it at least?”

A fragmented voice sounding through a tin-like phone speaker asked with a certain pressure behind it. The kind of pressure you’d only hear from people who wanted something. Something important.

Sebastian eyed the phone hesitantly, placing it on the windowsill while holding his watering can. Little droplets sliding down it’s side as he attempted to water his dried pot of basil - traveling was never something that helped in plantkeeping, not when you’d spend half the year in random hotels somewhere in the world.

He did not feel the need to return to the circus known as Formula 1, having enjoyed his time there but entirely content with retirement. Opposed to some of the others, he thought, he knew when to quit. No longer circling the biggest cities on earth but the supermarket parking lot in hopes of finding an empty spot. More importantly, waking up in his own bed for 7/7 days a week was a major joy to him, a feeling he didn’t feel like giving up.

“You know as well as i do, that we need an  experienced driver. George’s good but… He just can’t give us the direction needed.” Toto sounded quite serious at that moment - Lewis deciding to leave must have hurt him badly, considering him approaching Sebastian.

“Also… I just want someone i can trust to be around me”

Looking up in surprise, Seb almost dropped the watering can on the floor. Lewis leaving had REALLY hurt him.

“I’ve been thinking about retiring from F1 now. But they’d probably cancel F1 Academy without me around. Force Susie into Submission. I don’t want that. Fuck no.”

“Toto, I-” Sebastian started speaking, plucking the dead leaves from his pot of basil. “I like life. I love peaceful mornings.”

Silence. The phone speaker didn’t echo out for a few moments. 

“What would you say, if i told you we had a championship winning car?”

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

“You really agree to it?” Sebastian asked, Surprise lingering on his voice.

“Of course i do, i’ve seen you thirst for racing while you yourself didn’t. I was with you from the beginning till the end of your career, don’t you think i’d be able to read you by now?” Y/N answered him, their eyebrows pulled together in a mild emotion.

“But there’s a catch.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll be your race engineer. Like i’ve always been”

“Huh?” Seb asked again, this time even more surprised than before. Y/N nodded seriously. “I can’t see you race with another Engineer at your side. It feels wrong.”

The man man pondered for a moment, his brain racking. “You’re right. I’ll talk to Toto.”

A week later, Mercedes made an announcement. For the 2025 season, Bono would be moving to the lead Race Engineer position, not being directly responsible for a single racer. The community was confused, unsure of what was happening. Would they be promoting a rookie racer and engineer to grow their youth? Would they be getting a driver and engineer paring from another team?

Twitter and Reddit Artists were working hard, creating shitpost after shitpost, pundits podcast over podcast as the season progressed, trying to figure out who’d be the next racer.

Meanwhile Sebastian and Y/N were busy in their own ways. Practicing their communication again, the driver getting physically fit and in shape again. Moreso than he had been during his time at Aston Martin. This was going to be serious - no more lazing around. Go hard or go home.

Y/N worked with Bono - the man they used to work against- to get used to the Mercedes way of communication. It was very difficult, more strict compared to the free Red Bull. More lenient compared to the crazy Ferrari. More rule governed, compared to Aston Martin. Peter Bonnington was surprised in his own way, understanding why L/N and Vettel were the scary Duo they had been all this time. They had been a team since 2008, their shared time rivaling his and Lewis. Lewis- that was a mental direction he shouldn’t go to. Mercedes would need to win the championship, no time to waste on stupid thoughts.

As the season progressed and Fans grew mad with their speculation, Mercedes made a post on their instagram. It was a Photo of one of the trees outside their HQ, with a little bee fluttering around it. One single Description. “We love nature”.

Fans went wild with speculation, thinking, planning, shitposting. 

Then one day, two weeks away from the season beginning, the news fell. Two announcement posts in a single day. Y/N L/N heading to Mercedes as Race Engineer, Sebastian Vettel as driver. Mercedes returning back to their silver arrows livery.

The community went wild, the thing they’d never expected had happened.

Lewis meanwhile, was downtrodden. He had expected this move to work out differently. Ferrari clearly designated Charles as Driver 1, not adjusting around him like he’d gotten used to. Their bad race engineering got him into trouble many times. Seeing this news almost broke him. They had replaced him with his friend, who didn’t speak a single word of this? Shame on him.

Shortly after, a Video went online on the Mercedes Account. Sebastian and Y/N were seated among the many championships belonging to Mercedes, clad in white teamgear. Their eyes were determined, telling people they hadn’t arrived to play. As Sebastian took of his hat, people noticed the change. His own cold smile had returned, the one that caused people to call him a smiling assassin. His locks short again, like when he’d won his own championships. Y/N had assimilated, they’re hair bleached and dyed into a silvery colour. 

Fans once again were shocked, they truly hadn’t expected Sebastian to return like this. More akin to the way Schumacher returned but apparently that was not the choice Vettel made - he was here to win, not for the participation trophy.

As the season opener in Australia rolled around, many eyes were glued to the screen. Y/N was sitting on a bicycle along with their driver on his own, passing over the track. Taking in texture, dirt and heat. The media approached them back in the pits, shoving microphones in their face. Y/N just grunted, showing the media a literal middle finger before dipping into the Mercedes pitwall. 

This was the same paring as back in 2011, ready to fight. Qualifying went well, dangerously well. It was as if Seb hadn’t left F1. But not the 2022 Version, the 2012 Version. His defense was ruthless, his attacks even more. He utilised all the skills he had honed over years, even the smallest tricks Michael had once explained to him to gain a faster time. As he crossed over the finish line in first position, Martin Brundle screamed out loud. Nobody had expected this, nobody thought he could win a race again. Toto was jumping in the Mercedes Garage, Y/N jumping along and almost throwing the headset down.

Sebastian on the radio was back to his own, singing, cheering and screaming absolute gibberish. Pulling into Parc Fermé, he was surprised at having the camera and microphone pushed into his face. This new way of doing things was very unusual to him. 

“So Sebastian, tell us how you’re feeling.”

“I feel like i belong” was his simple answer, pushing the camera out of his face as he headed to get weighed. He took a short look at the staircase leading up to the podium. It had been a while since he had last set foot onto them. They were almost scary but he knew, he was secure. A hand placed on his shoulder, one that he had felt there for many years. Y/N was there to get the constructors trophy, truely the only appropriate person today.

The clothing wasn’t the same as in the past, but the energy was. People were cheering, even more were booing. Not wanting another Era of Mercedes Dominance. Booing however, did nothing to deter Sebastian or Y/N. After all, they were the original Red Bull Villains. 

Ignoring the rules, they let the champagne down to the team to enjoy. This was their first victory after a few years as well, they deserved it after sacrificing two seasons to get this car made.

Then, a lone camera man captured an almost painfull view. Lewis Hamilton, clad in the strong Ferrari Red standing aside, looking up to the silver team with sadness and longing in his eyes. This hurt him, it truly did. Tears were welling in his eyes as the camera man moved away tactfully, instead capturing the celebrating couple instead.

The season progressed, a grandslam in all eyes. Win after win - not a single Race lost. As the Final in Bahrain rolled around and Sebastian collected his fifth driver’s championship, he knew he had found a new family and home. Y/N and him were celebrating wildly, the basil on the windowsill long forgotten among the glory and the parties, the heat and the energy.

It was that day, that a man entered a plane back to his new home in Italy. Eying the still not fully unpacked furniture, he settled onto a lightly dusted chair. Had leaving Mercedes truly not been the right decision? Lewis looked at a photobook a fan had gotten him. From winning with McLaren, the years with Nico and Valtteri, Mercedes had truly grown into his home and Family. What had made him leave them then? Was it the thirst for glory? Had he not enjoyed the atmosphere anymore? He felt conflicted. People had told him that Ferrari would break him. He didn’t want to believe them, but they were right. The red team had once again done what it did best. Destroy someone. Lewis looked back on Sebastian’s Face, remembering his defeated expression after the years of fighting with the red team. Of getting recognition for Kimi as well. Of standing up against Charles.

Lewis considered his options, putting his own life on the golden scale. Then, he made a decision. Opening instagram, he made a single post. Cuddling Roscoe, the description was simple, something nostalgic almost. “I hereby announce my retirement from Formula 1”

[callahanisms]

hotd masterlist

cast

courtship (hcs | gn! reader)

diamond of the season - bridgerton regency! au headcanons

love is patient and kind (hcs | gn! reader | rom com au)

the monster is us (hcs | gn! reader | horror au)

lights! camera! action! (hcs | gn! reader | movie star au)

when you fall sick (hcs | gn! reader)

cooking and baking (hcs | gn! reader)

are you on the square? (shitpost)

manners maketh man (hcs | gn! reader | kingsman spy! au)

falling in love with a dragonrider (hcs | gn! reader | request)

arranged marriage with childhood friend (hcs | gn! reader | request)

falling into their crush’s chest (hcs | gn! reader | request)

having an s.o. who is afraid of children and childbirth (hcs | gn! reader | request)

driving (hcs | gn! reader)

daemon targaryen

general + relationship (hcs | gn! reader)

opposing sides (hcs | gn! reader)

rhaenyra targaryen

general + relationship (wip)

opposing sides (hcs | gn! reader | request)

victory for the opposing side (hcs | gn! reader | request)

coming out + their mother’s reaction (hcs | gn! reader | request)

reacting to the fact that (y/n) killed their child (hcs | gn! reader | request)

reactions to their lover cheating on them (hcs | gn! reader | request)

dragon’s smile (fic | gn! reader)

red lady (wip)

portrait of a princess on fire (fic | rhaenicent)

alicent hightower

general + relationship (wip)

opposing sides (hcs | gn! reader | request)

victory for the opposing side (hcs | gn! reader | request)

happy ending with their s.o (hcs | gn! reader | request)

coming out + their mother’s reaction (hcs | gn! reader | request)

reacting to the fact that (y/n) killed their child (hcs | gn! reader | request)

reactions to their lover cheating on them (hcs | gn! reader | request)

treatments for sorrow (fic | gn! reader)

green lightning (wip)

portrait of a princess on fire (fic | rhaenicent)

aegon targaryen

general + relationship (hcs | gn! reader)

opposing sides (hcs | gn! reader | request)

victory for the opposing side (hcs | gn! reader | request)

coming out + their mother’s reaction (hcs | gn! reader | request)

reacting to a bard (hcs | gn! reader | request)

aemond targaryen

general + relationship (hcs | gn! reader)

opposing sides (hcs | gn! reader | request)

victory for the opposing side (hcs | gn! reader | request)

happy ending with their s.o (hcs | gn! reader | request)

coming out + their mother’s reaction (hcs | gn! reader | request)

reacting to a bard (hcs | gn! reader | request)

study session (fic | gn! reader)

in the mood for love (fic | gn! reader)

helaena targaryen

general + relationship (hcs | gn! reader)

opposing sides (hcs | gn! reader request)

happy ending with their s.o (hcs | gn! reader | request)

coming out + their mother’s reaction (hcs | gn! reader | request)

reactions to their lover cheating on them (hcs | gn! reader | request)

reacting to a bard (hcs | gn! reader | request)

[agaypanic]

Every Night (Spider-Man!Chase Davenport X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Chase Davenport is a Mission Creek High student who takes pictures by day, and a bionic web-slinging superhero who fights crime by night. Tonight, he swings by your place with a split lip, a bruised rib, and a wounded ego.

A/N: holy shit an actual fic instead of a shitpost, who would’ve guessed? spiderman au where chase is spiderman bc 📖anon and i agreed that chase davenport is totally peter parker coded (specifically andrew garfield’s). side note: if this was a full avengers au, chase would be spiderman, davenport would be iron man, adam would probably be thor, bree would be black widow, and leo would probably be captain america or the hulk (it’d be funny to see him go from this little stick figure to a giant beefy mutant man). This is most likely not medically accurate

***

“Hold that,” Chase muttered just loud enough for you to hear, adjusting the settings on his new camera. “Stay still.”

“Chase, lunch is gonna be over soon.” You teased, but still held your position as requested.

You heard your boyfriend take a picture, and then a few more. There were a few more flickers of the camera shutter before Chase got up and rounded the picnic table to sit next to you. “What do you think?” Chase asked, showing you the couple of pictures he had just taken.

“I think you make me look really pretty.”

“Nah.” Chase shook his head before kissing your cheek. “That’s all you.”

“Big flirt.” You smiled, taking the camera out of his hands and setting it on the table to kiss him without interruption. Unfortunately, the school bell didn’t get the memo about you wanting to be undisturbed. Chase pouted when you pulled away, making you laugh. “Will I see you tonight?”

Chase stood up, grabbing his camera and your hand. “You always do, babe.”

***

Chase was right; you always did see him. But your question should have been whether he’d come through your front door as Chase Davenport or through your window as Spider-Man. The follow-up question would have been whether or not he’d be bloody and bruised.

Unfortunately, the answer to both questions were the latter options tonight.

“You’re lucky my parents aren’t home,” you said as you helped your boyfriend into your room, trying to avoid the blood-saturated parts of his suit. “Who was it this time?”

“Green Goblin.” Chase winced, plopping down on your bed while he clutched his side. You grabbed the little first aid kit that you kept under your bed ever since finding out about your boyfriend’s super identity. “I was doing my patrol when he just flew by out of nowhere. I didn’t even feel him coming.”

You could hear Chase’s disappointment in his voice as he recounted the events. The fight was difficult, as the wounds you were helping him clean up proved. 

After wiping the blood off his chin from his split lip, you scooted back a little and gestured to Chase’s chest. “Suit off.”

“At least buy me dinner first.” Chase tried to laugh but instead groaned in pain as he pressed the spider emblem on his suit that loosened the once skin-tight fabric. You helped pull the suit off enough to reveal Chase’s chest. It was bruised, sweaty, and heaving. “Hey, my eyes are up here.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes from his teasing and continued tending to Chase’s wounds. “You know, sometimes I wonder why you don’t go to Mr. Davenport for this. I’m sure Davenport Industries has actual nurses, or at least better medical supplies than a homemade first aid kit.”

Chase’s hand, a little shaky from his exhaustion, cupped your cheek, making you tear your eyes away from his purpling side. “I always visit you every night. A little beating isn’t gonna stop me from that.”

You scoffed. You wouldn’t exactly call this a ‘little’ beating. “Okay, but if you get some kind of infection or lifelong medical problem, don’t blame me.”

The rest of your aid was accompanied by silence. You were focused on cleaning Chase up to the best of your abilities, while he was focused on your focus. He wished he had his camera to capture the moment, ignoring the fact that he was wounded and in pain.

“Done,” you said after a long half hour. “Now, go take a shower. You’re all sweaty and gross.”

“I didn’t hear you complain when you were staring at my glistening abs.” Chase teased as he slowly stood up, kicking his suit off so he was only in his boxers.

You playfully swatted at him. “Just go. I’ll have a movie ready when you’re done.”

“And snacks?” Chase looked over his shoulder, looking at you with a pleading look. You nodded, following him out of your room, parting so he could go to the bathroom and you to the kitchen.

“And snacks.”

[phoenixyfriend]

Masterlist Navigator - Pinned Post

I am still accepting donations (or commissions!) on ko-fi, but it's not by any means an pressing need anymore. If you want a writing-related goal to support for this, I'm going to move closer to the city (and the new job) once I've built up a bit of a nest egg in case of emergency, and that'll cut down the commute by several hours... which I could use on writing for you guys!

For politics-only followers, I have the sideblog @phoenix-politics.

At this time (May 2024) I am still accepting a trade of charity donations for fic. If you donate over a certain amount to a listed charity, I will write a shortfic for you.

Alright, navigation time:

Last updated May 24th, 2024

General Masterpost: random posts, tumblr things, omegaverse, and scifi

Polls (non-Star Wars)

Business and Economics

On Writing and Stories

Girl Genius (in progress)

Naruto

Marvel

One Piece

Miscellaneous Fandoms

Star Wars Masterlists:

General AUs

Modern, Historic, Crossovers, and Otherwise Not Canonverse

Time Travel AUs

Ships Masterlist: ships I do a lot with, sfw

That Which is Unsafe for Work (Anakin Ships): You know the drill, folks. Tread carefully, for 18+ only.

That Which is Unsafe for Work (non-Anakin Ships and nsfw-dark): You know the drill, folks. Tread carefully, for 18+ only. All posts that fall into the nsfw-dark umbrella are in this post, regardless of other features.

Wider AUs masterlist: masterpost for the AUs that have more than two parts

In the Big Leagues: for posts about fics that have made it to AO3

Headcanons

Shitposts Collective: Shitposts

Discourse

Meme Fills: What it says on the tin. If it's a response to an ask meme, then it goes here first.

Star Wars: Tag-Teamed AUs

Star Wars Polls

Rec Lists

Liveblogging of Canon

[the-real-milo]

Truce

Chapter 3! 

Recap: Draco and Harry were smoochin (aka made out on the floor of the Herbology tent) when Draco ran out of the tent :o 

Current Summary: Quidditch confrontations, what happens when the boys are finally alone on said quidditch field, etc!

Category: slightly NSFW  

read the rest on ao3!

lists: visit my masterlist and join the taglist

I was back at the Gryffindor dorm rooms, Malfoy’s robe tucked under my arm, hopefully hidden from view. I don’t want anyone that sees me to get the wrong idea.

But what is the right idea? After I had hidden Malfoy’s robe in my drawer, I pulled the curtains around my bed closed, charmed them to stay put, and cast a quick Silencio. 

Tonight, I’d kissed Draco Malfoy. And really, really enjoyed it.

Then, in as much privacy as I could get, I finally let out a giggle/ shriek.

Just one, though. 

I wouldn’t obsess over it. I won’t. I mean, though the old Slytherin families torment themselves with blood lineage and traditional family values, the younger scaly cohorts definitely do not feel the same. Most people know that Malfoy and Zabini have been friends with benefits for months now, and it’s been rumored that Pansy joins in sometimes as well. That’s all fine and well with me; frankly, it’s just evidence that our kiss was more platonic than romantic. 

Technically, most of my kisses have been platonic, Cho and Ginny being the only ones to make the list. And, because I’m gay, I’m going to strike them from the record. During my third year at Hogwarts, once I’d had my Wizard Bar Mitzvah, reporters deemed me ready to be interrogated and flew upon me like vultures. One awful interview with Rita Skeeter later and the wizarding world knew that their “Chosen One Chooses to Scaf Some Chaps” (actual, front page title). For years, I received hate mail, love mail, and hallway winks from Seamus Finnigan. All of it was naught to me - though I could tell I theoretically liked boys, I hadn’t wanted to kiss any that had known me as The Chosen One before just knowing me as Harry. 

But I had definitely just kissed Malfoy. On the floor of the herbology tent. With my tongue. 

And it was electric. 

Apparently not for Malfoy, though. He’d run out just as I was getting started. I could imagine it so clearly in my mind, what would have happened if he had just stayed to figure out what we were doing. I could visualize the smooth part of his neck under his ear, bone white but covered in purple splotches that I could have given him. 

My hand strayed past my trousers, and I felt the hard-on that just thinking about Malfoy had given me. 

I could see him, Malfoy, his shirt half undone and tie askew, when I’ve never seen him with so much as a stray thread.

My hand moved up and down, and I imagined Malfoy’s hand over mine, pressing harder into flesh and urging me to go faster. 

But he had left. And I couldn’t figure out wh - Oh. Sweet Salazar, we made out in the same tent as a Professor. I immediately scrambled up and wiped my sweaty hands over my duvet.

I hadn’t even realized that Professor Sprout was still in the herbology tent with us. Malfoy must think I’m an exhibitionist, or worse, that I’m willing to drag unwilling participants into my sexual fantasies. I have to apologize to him - tomorrow, before the Gryffindor-Slytherin quidditch match. Which is at 7:00 am, twelve hours from now. I resolve to stop thinking about Malfoy, and our kiss, and anything else besides sleep.

Turns out my resolve is shit, because I don’t sleep a wink. 

At 6:00 am, I make my way to the Slytherin locker rooms, my gear and Malfoy’s robe hidden in my quidditch bag. The Slytherin team has first warm-ups on the field today, and so most of them are already out on the field. Malfoy is still in the locker room, like I’d known he’d be. The team Seeker runs relatively less plays than the other members of the team, so he usually spends the extra time oiling his broom to shining perfection. 

When you spend all your time making sure someone can’t blindsight you with an attack, you end up knowing all the intimate details of their routine. 

Malfoy is surrounded by Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini, even though they’re not on the team and aren’t allowed in the locker room. I freeze at the door, immediately deciding that this is a terrible idea and that I can just give him the robe after the game, but Malfoy notices me and beckons me in with a nod. 

I duck my head a bit shyly, and scuttle inside, door closing with an uncomfortable bang!. I quickly take the robe out and hand it over to Malfoy, who doesn’t say anything but raises his eyebrows amusedly. Zabini takes this in with a gleam of mischief in his eyes, and pats Malfoy on the back hard enough to move him slightly forward on the bench. 

“Malfoy, you sly dog! Good work on shagging the Chosen One!” Malfoy rolls his eyes, but says nothing to correct Zabini.

“What?” I stammer out, “It’s not like that, I mean,” I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Do I explain that we just kissed, or lie and say nothing happened? I can’t tell which is closer to the truth. 

I don’t get a chance to choose, because Malfoy’s mood immediately darkens.

“Embarrassed, Potter? Don’t want to be seen with a Deatheater?” he says, eyes narrowed into unforgiving slits.”

“What?” I say again, stupidly. I have no clue what Malfoy is getting at. I stand there for a second before mumbling a good game! and rushing out of the Slytherin locker room. 

I meet up with the rest of my team in my own locker room, where Ron gives me a quizzical look that I brush off with a shake of my head. Warm-ups whizz by, mostly because I’m barely paying attention. I thought Malfoy and I were done being everyone’s poster boys for good v. evil, but it seems like he’s too used to playing the part. Maybe it is too hard for us to be friends, after all. 

Before I know what’s happening, Madame Hooch is blowing the whistle and the balls are up in the air. I manage to catch a glimpse of gold near the Slytherin nets, and kick off in that direction. Malfoy noticed the same thing that I did, and races me to the Snitch with a focused look on his face.  He’s on my left, inches away from me, and has his hand out to stop me from getting ahead. He careens into me, in a way that matches the curve of the area as to seem accidental, but I can tell he’s in the mood for violence. I jerk my elbow out to stop him from pushing me, but he grabs my arm and pulls me in so that I’m almost laying across his broom. With my other hand, I tilt the end of his broom up and Malfoy into an uncontrollable nosedive, which forces him to let go of my arm.

If he wants to play dirty, then so can I.

Malfoy looks utterly furious now, an expression that’s surely mirrored on my own face. I can’t believe he would go back to fighting just after we had decided not to. One misunderstanding and we resort to pettiness on the quidditch field? Well, if Malfoy can be petty, I can be pettier. Pettiest, in fact.

Instead of focusing on the Snitch, I just search for Malfoy on the field, who is currently flying towards the Hufflepuff stands. I fly in a parabolic arc towards him, making sure I’m coming up at him from the bottom. I plow into Malfoy, which makes him turn into a tailspin towards the ground. Smugly, I then decide to look for the Snitch, which is right in front of my nose, as it happens. I grab it, surprised that it came to me that easily, but from across the field I hear Oliver Wood shout, “FUCK!���, which isn’t in itself unusual but it’s definitely not the reaction I expected for us winning the game. 

The Gryffindor stands cheer briefly, but then the Slytherin stands start going wild. I looked at the scoreboard for the first time all game and realized what had happened: the Slytherins were up by over a 150-point margin, so catching the Snitch had made us lose the game. I flew down to the ground, where the Slytherin team was celebrating, and the Gryffindor team looked like they all wanted to lob a Bludger at me.  

I didn’t want to face them, so I flew immediately to the Slytherin team to start the post-game handshakes. When I got to Malfoy, I found myself relieved that I hadn’t visibly bruised him. He was the only one on his team who scowled at me - the rest of them gave me wide grins and enough pounds on the back to surely leave me with something. I smiled at them weakly, ready to go hide in the locker room, when Malfoy pulled me to the side.

“What was that all about? And, don’t say, ‘What?’, you know exactly what I’m talking about!” he had to yell over the noise of the stands, but he sounded more hurt than upset.

“Hey, you started it!” I yelled back, matching his energy.

“I was playing the game, Potter,” he seethed, “You just attacked me! What, to embarrass me in front of my friends wasn’t enough, you have to brutalize me as well?” 

The stands were slowly emptying, and the teams had gone back to their respective locker rooms. By the end of Malfoy’s sentence, he didn’t have to yell anymore, but had packed his rage into tight enunciation and pointed words.

“Embarrass you? Zabini was the one who was saying we -” For some reason I couldn’t say the word ‘shag’ out loud in this context. “I was just setting the record straight!”

“Zabini already knew that we kissed, Potter! He was just poking fun!” Malfoy rolled his eyes at me in a way that said I could so strangle you right now. However, I was more confused than ever. This was apparently obvious on my face, because Malfoy followed that with, “Didn’t you tell Ron that we kissed?” I stood silent for a second before Malfoy muttered out, “Of course you didn’t.”

“Hey!” I said, louder than it needed to be. I took a step closer to Malfoy and tried again.

“Hey, you know it’s not like that. I didn’t tell Ron because, frankly, I didn’t know what to tell him. You ran out on me! How do I explain that without sounding like I forced myself on you! Which,” I took my first breath in what felt like forever, “I didn’t, right?” The last part came out more pleadingly than I had wanted it to, but thankfully the anger in Malfoy’s eyes had faded to understanding. 

“No, Potter,” he said quietly, “You didn’t force anything.”

The brooms had dropped from our hands some time ago, and now we were both facing each other directly, both breathing heavily.

“And, for the record,” he continued, “I thought we could continue what we were doing  somewhere without a sleeping Professor in the room. I waited outside the tent for you, but you stayed inside, so I just went back to my dorm.”

The realization that this had been a ridiculous misunderstanding dawned on both of us at the same time, just as it dawned that we had been inching closer and were now so close I could feel the heat from his breath. 

“You know, I don’t see any Professors around,” I joked, and this time Malfoy doesn’t roll his eyes. He does something much, much better - he shoves me up against the wall of the quidditch stadium and presses his lips against mine. 

I’m lost almost immediately, lost and found and turned whole again for the first time since last night. I nip fervently at Draco’s mouth, who presses himself closer to me so that we’re hip to hip. Without thinking, which is how I do most things if I’m honest, I move Malfoy’s leg so that it’s around my waist. 

A fleeting thought of ‘Yup, I’m definitely gay’ runs through my mind, though it quickly goes blank when Malfoy moves his mouth away from mine to the skin where my jaw meets my neck. This time, I’m the one who’s moaning as Malfoy bruises me in the best way possible, and I bare my neck to give him easier access, which he gladly accepts. He kisses down my neck in a scattered line, and each spot he touches becomes my new favorite. I can’t keep my hands from moving along his back, his waist, and soon I lift his other leg off the ground and wrap it around my waist so that I have an excuse to hold him. I spin us around so that he’s the one pressed against the wall, and before I go back to kissing him, Malfoy reveals the most beautiful, genuine smile I’ve ever seen on him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this way before, so out of his perfect control and just happy. The thought dizzens me, and I have to readjust my hold on Malfoy’s thighs and ass, which elicits a high yelp from Malfoy. I outwardly chuckle at this, and Malfoy hits my shoulder jokingly. 

We’re both breathing harder than ever, and between gasps of air, Malfoy pants, “There’s a party. For - for Slytherin. The game. If you wanna come,”

“I mean, I’m practically a part of the team at this point, I scored your winning goal.” I chuckle, and Malfoy joins in.

“What was with that, by the way?” He asks, but I just shrug and say, “I was focused on - other things, I guess.” I look into his eyes when I say this, and his red cheeks go a shade darker than before. He hops out of my loosened hold on him, picks up his fallen broom, and starts sprinting back across the field. 

“Ready, Potter?” he calls, somehow already halfway across the field.

“Always!” I shout back, this time rolling my eyes at him, and then jog after him, heart beating much louder than it should.

[agendabymooner]

the multifaceted gf and her pets ! george r. x ofc

summary: george russell is dating arabella ‘ara’ elgin, who had been friends with him (alongside lando norris and alex albon) for years. it turns out, she was everything that the haters thought she wouldn’t be as they believed that she was… not the one for him. (loosely based on this request.)

content warning: use of explicit language, haters gonna hate shake it off, childhood friends to lovers, ‘rich aunt’ george, ofc does it all (memer, photographer, youtuber, etc), fluff, crack fic?, utter nonsense

faceclaim: talia mar (music discography based on adele’s music; inspired by water under the bridge)

note: dreading las vegas gp but it’s okay here’s some of your rich aunt george russell content 🤭 enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

i. ara the photographer (and shitposter)

ii. ara the singer (and everyone’s rich aunt)

tagged georgerussell63

liked by landonorris, alex_albon, maxfewtrell

landonorris “being george’s girlfriend is a full time job” yeah well we’ve warned you

barbarella no need to get mouthy about it landinho 🤓

maxfewtrell gonna shake my arse to your new single 🫦 liked by barbarella

riabish max… have shame 🤢 liked by barbarella

barbarella YES BABY SHAKE IT FOR ME 🤤

georgerussell63 don’t encourage the lad, ara

mercedesamgf1 the rich aunt is rich aunt’ing 🤩🍷 liked by barbarella

lewishamilton collab when??? liked by barbarella

barbarella hol’up 😭🙏 i’ve got an album to release first

lewishamilton shoot me a message anytime ara! 🤭

user1 EXCUSE ME?! ARA FEAT. XNDA?!!!

user2 busting a nut brb 🤭���

alex_albon she a memer, she a singer she a rockstar liked by barbarella

barbarella 😚😚 no wonder why ur my fave rookie

user3 rich aunt is crying rn 🤧

georgerussell63 proud of you for setting your haters straight i guess. liked by barbarella

barbarella don’t be sad georgieeee you know that i love youuuu 🥰🥰

georgerussell63 👍

landonorris wowowow you sure you wanna keep dating this man, ara?

barbarella yeah he’s just in the corner sulking rn. i’d leave him be if i were you

georgerussell63 STOP TELLING PEOPLE IM IN A CORNER SULKING ☹️

alex_albon i would imagine you are sulking right now george

georgerussell63 i’m not. stop listening to her.

user4 i love this banter with ara and her pet dogs. like that’s so cute!

user5 her pet dogs— BABES THATS HER BF AND BEST FRIENDS 😭😭

[aidenzhouappreciationweek]

Welcome! To Aiden Zhou Appreciation Week!

This is the official blog for the appreciation week for the amazing Aiden Zhou, from the High School Story trilogy on Choices: Stories You Play!

This year's event will be taking place over October 9, 2024 - October 15, 2024. But we will continue accepting submissions for the 2024 Prompts until August 1, 2025, which is when the new prompts will be announced.

Aiden Zhou Appreication Week 2024: Prompts List

Day 1 (October 9): Music Man Aiden

Day 2 (October 10): Fashion/Design + Beauty + Flowers

Day 3 (October 11): Relationships: Romance, Friendships, Family

Day 4 (October 12): Free Prompt! (also the day I headcanon as Aiden’s birthday)

Day 5 (October 13): Cunty Aiden + Cutie Aiden + Weather/Seasons

Day 6 (October 14): AU + Crossover

Day 7 (October 15): Pride + Culture/Ethnicity/Heritage + Colors

Feel free to suggest your own possible prompt ideas for future years’ events, btw!

See below for the submission guidelines and (eventually) previous years' masterlists!

General Guidelines for Submission:

We’ll reblog pretty much any posts that are Aiden-centric and Aiden-appreciative/positive, whether or not it’s made for this event. But if you want your post to be considered a submission and listed on the masterlist, you must A) mention this blog and B) specify which prompt or prompts you’re submitting for.

The tags #AidenZhouAppreciationWeek, #AZAW, #AZAW2024, are highly recommended, but not necessary.

If your post is very long in length (eg. if it’s a long fic, has images that take up a lot of length), we highly recommend putting a “Read More” button in your post.

Any submissions that lean into NSFW or suggestive territory, and/or feature sensitive topics should be tagged accordingly.

You don’t have to create for each prompt or each day. Create for as many prompts and days as you like.

You don’t have to create for a prompt on its respective assigned day. Eg. You can create for a Day 1 prompt on Day 4.

You don’t have to create only one piece per prompt. If you have multiple pieces you want to create for a certain prompt, then by all means, go for it.

You don’t have to use only a specific day’s prompts together Eg. You can have a piece that uses a Day 1 prompt and a Day 4 prompt together.

We will still accept submissions even after the event dates have passed. You will have until the next year’s August 1 to submit posts/creations for the current prompts! Eg. For the AZAW 2024 prompts, you will be able to submit for them until August 1, 2025.

What IS welcome:

Any medium of human creation. Art, fanfic, poetry, edits, animation, picrews/meikers* moodboards/stimboards/gifboards, icons, memes/shitposts, gifs, AMVs, playlists, headcanons, character recreation in another game (eg. The Sims), etc!

Meta posts. Eg. screenshots of favorite scenes/moments from the Choices game itself, essay/analytical writing, even just simply gushing/rambling over Aiden nonstop!

Pieces or posts that you made prior to this event and/or initially not for this event, but you've decided you want to submit them!

WIP/unfinished pieces.

Submissions can be works that you have made yourself, or works that you have commissioned from someone else.

*If you’re submitting a picrew or meiker piece or anything similar, please link to the template in your post!

What is NOT welcome:

Bigotry of any kind. Posts of a nature that is sexist, racist (especially Sinophobic), queerphobic, ableist, xenophobic, etc. are obviously not allowed.

AI-generated material of any kind. This includes images or writing made by genAI, ChatGPT/character.AI screenshots, etc. Feel free to let us know if we accidentally promote AI generated material. We support human creators here!

Just don’t be a dick, tbh.

Previous Years’ Masterlists

[Will be linked here]

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

My blog is generally pretty lighthearted and I stick to reblogging art and fic and fun stuff, but you know what. I feel like I need to say this.

I am a trans teen in the US. I'm seventeen, so too young to have voted. I'm terrified for my life right now. I usually post about college but I'm actually concurrently enrolled in high school still and the kid who sits behind me in first period government is a massive Trump fanboy. I'm going to have to go to high school Monday and talk about the election. I'm going to have to hear my deadname called and hear people in my super conservative high school talk about how happy they are Trump won. Everything is terrifying. I walk outside of my house and I'm scared I'll be shot. Several months ago I promised that I'd kill myself if that bastard won.

He did and I'm still here.

I'm not thriving. I'm not living my best life. I'm barely living. But I'm surviving. I'm coping. I'm trying my goddamned best. It's hard. I want so bad to just go and take as much medication as I can and slit my wrist for good measure and pass away in my sleep. But I'm still here. And I will be here.

I am in so much pain. But I'm living on spite and determination and everything I can scrape together. I know I need support and those around me need support. So consider this a support masterpost.

Support:

First thing you should see if you're a trans person in the US.

Here's a link to the Trevor Project and here's a link to their suicide hotline page. They've already saved my life once before. Please note - they recommend calling if you need immediate support. Donate if you can, please.

This post is both a suicide hotline masterlist and a post mentioning how something feels deeply wrong here with this election.

On the topic of something being wrong, sign this petition. I'm only seventeen but I did this and it might not feel like much but if we couldn't shoot that bastard (I am not pro-gun but I am when it comes to him) then we'll do the next best thing. Here's the link to the petition itself. Make sure to check the post every once in a while - the original petition got taken down and this is important.

I follow a lot of gimmick blogs, so I got to see this post encouraging us to be loud. Because we should be. Because if we die they've won and my mom didn't smoke weed on the steps of the state capital of Colorado to legalize it just so her son could roll over and die.

Here is the Tumblr Hot Beverage Masterpost, as I've taken to calling it. My personal favorites are the London Fog in the replies, earl grey with milk, honey, and vanilla (in the tags), and some additions from me are hot chocolate with peppermint melted into it, earl grey with lavender, caramel apple tea, and really anything else you can think of. Trust me. This post works better than you think.

Read this post if you haven't seen it already. It's half poem, half Tumblr being Tumblr, all wonderful to read.

Things I just like to see:

PM Seymour and Bettina Levy both have shown their support for everyone struggling right now. It might not be much, but I still really appreciate it and seeing support can really help.

The cat with the kind and reassuring face. No other context.

Four panel comic of hope. Because you're more than enough.

Can't find the post where I found this but this is a link to a virtual toy where you can make your own galaxy.

Please. Eat something. Drink a hot beverage. Draw, write, read, knit, sew, sculpt, bake, do something that helps. Reach out to friends, even if they're online friends. Talk to someone you trust. Make vent art. Write vent fics. It doesn't matter what you do as long as it helps.

Do not roll over and die. Live. Live on spite. Live on determination. Live on shitposts and live on heartfelt stories like this one. If you have anything to add to this post please do. Add more resources. Add more love to this post. I know I'm just a guy on the internet saying shit, but I still care about everyone who sees this post.