#there's something wrong with you. that's why you can't feel loved

[trashytracktales]

ong yes!! lando gotta loveeeee doggy and taking her against a wall!! But imagine her on top for the first time and not knowing how to ride him and him teaching him and telling her what to do! im asking this to santa !!

kill me now!!

Oh, Christmas treat | LN ⁴

💌 INSPIRED by anon ──── Why ask Santa when I'm literally right here... enjoy 💋

⤿ We're yapping about this ask.

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𐙚 summary ──── It's a quiet winter night, and Lando notices that his girlfriend seems a bit distracted. After some playful coaxing, she admits a secret desire to try something new. With his gentle guidance, they explore new paths together, each step bringing them closer.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, established relationship, fluff & smut, descriptive language, light teasing, themes of vulnerability, unprotected sex, reader's first time on top, bit of swearing.

𐙚 word count ──── 2.5k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 24, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── I know this wasn’t a request per se, but I wanted to share this one-shot with you since it was already mostly ready to go. I’ve been dealing with some health issues recently and couldn't get myself to get anything done, so thank you for your patience. The rest of the requests are still on their (admittedly slow) way, but I promise they’re coming 🤞🏻 Wishing a very Merry Christmas Eve to everyone who celebrates, and who knows, I might have another little treat up my sleeve 👀

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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

THE DAY HAD been nothing out of the ordinary, but that was exactly what made it special.

Lando had woken up late, groggy but grinning satisfied when he caught her padding around the kitchen in fuzzy socks and an oversized sweater, humming along to Christmas songs. She loves the holiday season, because she likes it when he's home, and Lando doesn't have to be anywhere but their own apartment. That's exactly why she can't get upset when he streams with Max for hours in the night, and ends up sleeping in the next day. The simple fact that he's there is enough.

Maybe she conditioned herself to accept that, but then she sees his sleepy face and thinks she'd accept worse in order to share her mornings with him.

It's Christmas Eve, so they’d decided to bake cookies, mostly because she insisted it was a winter tradition, and Lando, ever the competitive spirit, took it as a challenge to see whose decorations would turn out better. As expected, chaos followed. By the time the cookies were ready, the kitchen looked like it had been through a snowstorm of flour and sugar. Lando had a streak of frosting on his cheek, and she had somehow ended up with sprinkles in her hair. In reality, they spent more time laughing and teasing each other than actually baking, but that was always the way it went with them.

Now, their cookies sit patiently on the counter, forgotten as the two of them relax on the couch in the living room. The Christmas tree lights glow warmly in the corner, and a cheesy holiday movie plays on the TV. They’re snuggled under a thick blanket, her legs curled up and tucked into his side. Lando’s arm drapes around her shoulders, his fingers playing lazily with her hair. It’s peaceful and comforting, but somewhere in the quiet, she feels a sudden pull in her chest.

In all the time they've been together, she never took the lead — not willingly, at least — feeling more than happy to surrender. She's been thinking about it for a long time, but she's never had the courage to do it. She doesn't feel intimidated or inhibited by her boyfriend, but rather by how it could all go wrong for both of them if she, somehow, ends up doing something she’s not supposed to.

Suddenly, her arms tighten around him, her nose nuzzling into his shirt. There’s a weight in her heart, not sadness exactly, but something tender, something raw. It makes her extra clingy, but she doesn’t say anything. She just holds him closer, hoping he won’t notice.

But Lando always notices.

His fingers pause in her hair, and his brows furrow slightly as he glances down at her. “You good, baby?” he asks, his voice soft and curious.

She hums nonchalantly, her face still buried in his chest.

“You sure?” Lando insists, his tone teasing but gentle.

The girl freezes for a moment, debating whether to brush it off, but before she can decide, he tilts her chin up with his fingers, making her look at him.

“Come on, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hm?” he asks, his eyes scanning hers.

Her cheeks heat under his gaze, and she sighs. “I don’t know. You just… feel extra nice to hold tonight,” she says quietly.

Lando blinks, then his grin widens, teasing again. “Didn’t know I had levels of cuddliness.”

“Oh, shut up,” she mumbles, hiding her face against his chest again.

His smile softens, and he wraps his arms around her fully, pulling her tighter against him. “Hey, you don’t wanna talk to me?”

She shakes her head and, at that, Lando stops pushing, knowing that whatever it is, she’ll come to him. Eventually. When she’s ready.

A few hours later, their movie marathon ends in a comfortable silence, the glow of the TV instantly muted by the credits rolling on the screen. Lando stretches, groaning softly as he shifts from the couch.

She gathers the blanket, folding it neatly before turning to him with a small smile.

“Bedtime?” she asks, her voice soft, almost reluctant to leave the warmth of the evening behind.

“Bedtime,” he agrees, though he watches her carefully as she heads toward the bedroom.

She moves through her usual routine, brushing her teeth and slipping into one of his hoodies, paired with sleep shorts. As she pulls back the covers and sits on the edge of the bed, he hears it again — the same quiet sigh that makes his chest tighten.

Lando leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, frowning in her direction. “Alright, that’s the second time tonight,” he says, his tone light but edged with curiosity. “Should I worry?”

“What?” she replies quickly, too quickly, as she gets ready to tuck herself under the duvet. “No, baby. It’s nothing.”

“Right,” says Lando, stepping closer, his lips curving into a mischievous grin. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll have to get it out of you another way.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Lando…”

Before she can finish, he lunges, playfully grabbing her waist and threatening to tickle her sides. She squeals, trying to wiggle away, but his grip on her is firm.

“Last chance, I'm serious,” he warns, his laughter bubbling up as she giggles uncontrollably.

“Okay, fine, stop it!” she pleads, breathless, her face flushed.

Lando stops, pulling back just enough to sit on the edge of the bed. Then, with a gentle tug, he pulls her onto his lap. His arms wrap loosely around her waist, and he tilts his head, watching her with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Now,” he says, happy that he managed to break her wall, “What’s going on?”

She hesitates, her cheeks turning pink as she avoids his gaze. Instead, her fingers find his curls at the back of his head, twisting them gently as she takes a deep breath. “You know, it’s not even a big deal. I’ve been thinking about something, but I just didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“Mhm,” he nods, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to her lips. It’s deep, slow, almost as if he’s trying to reassure her without words. When he pulls back, their foreheads touch, and he whispers, “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

She knows. Still, that doesn’t make it any easier. The heat rushes in her cheeks as she finally meets his eyes. “Look, I like when you’re on top. I mean, I really like it,” she says, stumbling slightly over her words. “But I was thinking, maybe, I’d like to, you know...”

Her voice trails off, and she looks away again, clearly embarrassed.

Lando blinks, letting her words sink in. His mouth opens slightly, but no sound comes out as a flush creeps up his neck. Then, a grin spreads across his face, equal parts flustered and excited.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice soft, his hands tightening slightly on her waist. “You want to ride me, baby?”

She nods quickly, still twisting his curls nervously. “But I’ve never done it before, and I’m not sure I’d be good at it. It's just that—”

He exhales a chuckle, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. “Slow down,” he murmurs against her skin, his tone so tender that it makes her stomach flip. “You don’t have to worry about being good at it, baby. If you wat to try it, I can guide you, and we’ll see what works for us as we go.”

Her cheeks flush as she processes his reassurance, the tender way he’s looking at her making her feel bold and seen. And listened to.

She smiles, shifting on his lap, searching for some friction, and the slight brush of her core against his growing hardness has her letting out a soft gasp. Lando notices immediately, but he doesn’t say anything yet. Instead, he lets her take the lead at her own pace, on her own terms.

She shifts again, this time deliberately pressing herself against him, and the soft sound she makes has Lando’s self-control slipping. “I suppose we can try now?” he murmurs, his voice thick with heat.

She doesn’t reply — at least not with words. Instead, she grabs his hoodie, pulling it over her head in one swift motion, leaving her in nothing but her shorts. Lando’s breath catches as he takes her in, his hands immediately coming up to palm her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples. He's seen her naked so many times before, but somehow, every time she gets rid of her clothes she uncovers something new.

“So beautiful,” he mutters, leaning in to press open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone. She tilts her head back, giving him more access, and the heat between them builds until she pushes him gently onto the mattress.

Lando goes willingly, a grin tugging at his lips as she leans over him to kiss him again. His hands move to her hips, holding her firmly as she presses herself against him, grinding slowly. He groans into her mouth, his hands sliding lower to grip her ass, then he spreads her slightly, pushing her down against his growing length, making both of them gasp at the feeling.

Her hands trail down his chest, and she tugs at his shirt. “Off,” she breathes, and he obeys, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. For a moment, she just looks at him, her hands tracing the defined lines of his chest.

The tension between them builds rapidly, their breaths mingling as they press closer. It doesn’t take long before she’s tugging at the waistband of her shorts, her nerves creeping back in as she pushes them down. Lando sits up slightly, watching her with darkened eyes, and when she glances at him nervously, he reaches out to stroke her thigh gently.

“You’re perfect,” he says softly, his voice full of sincerity.

Her nerves ease at his words, and when he pushes his joggers down, freeing himself, her anticipation drowns out her doubts.

He sits up fully, pulling her closer until she’s straddling him again. “Alright, love,” he murmurs, his hands steadying her hips. “Go slow, yeah? Just sit on me first. Take your time.”

She nods, biting her lip as she lines herself up with him. Slowly, she sinks down, feeling the stretch as he fills her inch by sweet inch. Her breath hitches, and Lando groans, his hands gripping her hips tighter.

“Oh, fuck,” he rasps. “You always feel so good.”

She pauses once he’s fully inside, her hands braced on his chest as she adjusts to the feeling of being so full of him. Sensing her nervousness, Lando rubs soothing circles on her hips, letting her take her time.

When she finally starts to move, lifting herself up slightly before sinking back down, a soft, shaky moan escapes her lips. Lando watches her with a mix of awe and hunger, his hands guiding her gently.

“Just like that, baby,” he encourages her, “Easy. You’re doing so well.”

Slowly but surely, she manages to build a rhythm, her movements tentative at first. But as the pleasure starts invading her senses, she becomes bolder. She opens up more, craving all of him at once. Her hands slide back to grip his thighs for support as she leans back slightly, the new angle sending sparks of pleasure through her body.

The taste of power it's rather interesting in this position, and she can’t afford to be shy anymore. Not when his cock feels so good inside her, and not when she decides how to take him.

“Fuck, Lando,” she breathes, her head tilting back.

She begins to move more rapidly on top of him, her hips following a predetermined path that she wasn't even aware of before. Lando watches her in amazement, feeling every pulse of pleasure every time she comes back for more, her walls hugging his cock so tightly that it leaves him breathless.

He groans, his hands sliding up to her waist to steady her. “That’s it, baby. Keep going. God, you’re going to make me cum so fast like this.”

The sight of her riding him, her body moving with such confidence now, nearly breaks him. Somehow, he resists the urge to thrust up into her, letting her stay in control, but his grip tightens as his restraint begins to fray.

He hears a silent cry, getting ready for every scenario in his mind, while his eyes study her frame by frame.

She whimpers, her movements becoming more erratic as the pleasure overwhelms her. “Lan,” she gasps, her voice shaky. “I can’t go—too much.”

He sits up slightly, pulling her towards him and pressing his forehead to hers. “Of course you can, baby,” he says softly, his voice steady despite the fire coursing through him. “I’m here. Just a little more, yeah? You’re doing so good.”

She feels his cock twitching inside her as she shakes her head weakly, “Lando, please…” her hands desperately clutch his shoulders, and that's when he understands what she needs from him.

Lando's hands land on her waist again, gripping at her firmly, and he starts to guide her harder on his cock while thrusting up into her simultaneously, meeting her halfway. The sudden change in rhythm makes her cry out, her nails digging into his skin.

“Yes,” she moans, her head dropping onto his shoulder as he drives her higher. “It’s so good, fuck. I’m—”

“That’s it,” he growls, his voice tinged with exhaustion. “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”

So she does, her body trembling as the pleasure crests and crashes over her. He follows seconds later, his movements growing erratic before he stills inside her, holding her tightly against him as they both ride out their highs, breathing each other’s air. They stay tangled together, bodies still pressed close as the intensity of their orgasms fades away.

Lando brushes a strand of her hair away from her damp forehead, his lips curling into a soft smile. “You okay there?” he asks, his voice a gentle rasp.

She nods against him, her body still warm and buzzing. “Mhm, ‘m okay,” she murmurs, tilting her head up to meet his gaze.

He grins, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “You did so well, baby. Made me proud.”

She lets out a breathless laugh, her head dropping back onto his shoulder. “Cheers,” she trails off, playfully groaning. “But that was so much work. My fucking thighs are on fire.”

Lando laughs, the sound deep and rich. “Oh, you poor thing,” he teases, stroking her back soothingly.

She swats at his chest, unable to hold back her grin. “I’m serious! It’s a full-body workout being on top.”

He hums thoughtfully, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on her skin. “So what you’re saying is…” he starts, tilting his head with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I get to be in charge again next time?”

She pulls back to look at him, her cheeks flushing, but there’s a playful sparkle in her eyes. “You won't hear me complaining,” she quips, biting her lip to suppress her laughter.

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[v1rtualsalvat10n]

𓆩♡𓆪 for the first time

― luigi thinks of you in his cell. that's it that's the fic.

notes :: thank you for all the support to show my appreciation i would like to throw a rusty screwdriver into your hearts i love u guys!!

The thing they don't tell you about prison is that it's really cold.

No, seriously. It's really fucking cold, even here in NYC where it's already cold to begin with - it's like you're in the back of a deep freezer in a shitty jumpsuit, because you kind of are. It's cold enough that I have to curl up into a ball on my "bed", knees to my chest in order to try and stay warm.

And because I have nothing to do, I find myself staring at the white, emotionless wall, and doing that sort of thing is kind of a surefire way to get your mind to wander. One of the tried and true methods, if you will.

It's lonely here. Sure, the inmates like me, they're nice, but I mean... I'm not really in the mood to socialize with anyone. This whole ordeal has sucked the energy out of me. I've been being thrown around the country for days, ever since they found me.

I don't even want to think about what's happening outside of this place, either. I'm sure people have lots of thoughts and things to say about what I did.

I wonder if she saw it.

The news, I mean. Of course she saw it, who didn't? I bet her and all my old classmates and friends are probably talking about it, about me, what I'd done - right now. Trying to pick apart my motive, maybe grieving about the life I'd thrown away. Guess I had a lot ahead of me.

Can't help but wonder what she's thinking. I wonder if she's disappointed in me. Or maybe proud. Why am I thinking so much about what she thinks of me? It was one fling, from ages ago, I can't even remember when... at one of countless parties, and yet I still see how she looked underneath me so clearly.

It wasn't really just a fling. I talked to her about it - about how the system was falling apart (if it was ever together to begin with) and I felt the need to put all this privilege I'd been granted to good use. How I felt like I had to do something. She told me about herself, too, how she'd been fucked over time and time again and how she knew countless others who felt the same way.

Actually, yeah, we spent a lot of time together, thinking back on it. She'd come over on those cold winter nights I remember so fondly and we'd keep warm together, whatever way we could find. She was kind of... below me, I guess. Lower class. Not that I cared that much, though. Didn't make her any less of a lover.

And then I went radio silent. Then I figured out exactly what that thing I had to do was, and I put all my effort towards it. I didn't have time for love anymore. I had to take the chance I'd been given and fix things.

So I started leaving her on seen, stopped answering my door, even when she'd yell that she knew I was there, stopped showing up at the places I'd loved before, I stopped everything. Dropped off the map and left nothing but a ghost in my place.

She probably hates me.

I'd like to think that maybe this brings her solace... that maybe the idea that "it wasn't because you did something wrong" made her feel better, but I doubt it does.

When I get out of here, if I even do, she'll probably have forgotten all about me, because everybody forgets. I'll be old news by the time that day comes, and everything we did, everything we wanted to do - would just be a hazy memory.

I still remember seeing her for the first time. I remember the way her eyes pierced through my soul, and I remember how it made me feel inside.

I wonder if she remembers that too.

[geeky-politics-46]

Surgery Headcanon

How would my favorite Marvel men react to you having surgery. 

I'm getting my gallbladder taken out in a couple of weeks, it will be my first surgery ever, so this is 100% self-indulgent. That's part of why I've been so absent this year, I've had an organ rebelling.

Doctor Stephen Strange 

Will ask who your doctor is to see if he knows them. If not, he may send a referral to a trusted former colleague on your behalf. He's not letting you under the knife unless he knows you have a good surgeon.

Will tell you how routine the surgery is if you are starting to worry. Almost a bit blasé about your concerns, after all, bedside manner was never his strong suit as a surgeon. Plus, it really is a routine, laparoscopic procedure. Way less intricate & dangerous than neurosurgery.

1000% will try to micromanage everything once you're at the hospital prepping for or immediately out of surgery. He wants to see your chart. He wants to know what your most recent vitals are. Hell, he may have even asked if he can observe the surgery. Partly, it's him being overprotective, partly it's because he misses being a doctor.

Definitely breaking into the doctor's lounge for the good coffee, not the instant crap in the cafeteria.

After you are home, he will be vigilant about making sure you take your pain meds & will check your incisions to make sure everything is healing well. You are in very safe, if slightly neurotic hands.

Secretly, or not so secretly, enjoying getting to play doctor again to take care of you. Looking forward to when you are well enough that you can play doctor and patient the really fun way.

Bucky Barnes 

May actually be a bigger mess than you are. Thanks to Hydra, medical anything makes his anxiety shoot through the roof. Now piled on top of that, he feels out of control & helpless to make you feel better.

Would have to be physically dragged out of your hospital room, so the hospital staff just lets the whole “visitors hours” thing slide.

The second you wake up, he is by your side asking if you need anything. Probably didn't sleep or even sit down the entire time you were in surgery.

If you even make an odd face, he's asking if you are in pain, and he has become a huge pain in the ass for your nurses. 

May have thought about threatening your surgeon about if something went wrong.

Either guard dog mode, or he completely shuts down. There is no in between. 

Afraid he's going to break you while you are recovering. Offers to sleep on the floor or on the couch just in case. Doesn't want to let you out of his sight until you are healed. 

Steve Rogers

Tells you over and over how everything will be okay and that you are in good hands.

May tell you stories about how much hospitals and medical stuff has improved since he was so sick before the serum.

Reads up on your surgery and your doctors. He wants to understand as much as he can about what is going on. He probably has more questions for the doctor than you do.

Puts on a brave face for you but secretly will be a little nervous. He hates seeing you sick or in pain, and he can't help but worry a little bit.

Will respect hospital rules but will stay up until the very last minute of visiting hours are over. Knows the names of every nurse and doctor treating you. 

Definitely has flowers or a stuffed bear for you as soon as you wake up from surgery. 

Dotes on your every need once you are home and watches you like a hawk. The first few days, he doesn't even let you go to the bathroom by yourself. You can't get away with shortcutting your recovery under his eye. 

Sam Wilson

Buys you a cute, silly stuffed version of whatever you are having surgery on to make you laugh. See my new stuffed sad gallbladder plush as reference here.

All the nurses love him, and he likes to crack jokes with all the staff. Offers to help with anything he can but mostly tries to stay out of their way.

Trying to make you smile all the way until they wheel you to the OR. He doesn't want you to be scared or nervous. 

Like Steve, he will put on a brave face but will be nervous once you are in surgery. Lots of pacing back & forth. Lots of trips to the coffee machine.

Takes care of you once you are home but not quite as mother hen as Steve. Will let you judge what is best for you, but will 100% call you out if he sees you doing something the doctor told you not to.

Will also rat you out to your doctor if you don’t follow their instructions. He doesn't want to snitch, but he'd also rather not be the one to scold you.

Loki

Doesn't like the idea of someone operating on you. Trained surgeon or not, they are still just a simple Midgardian.

Doesn't like the hospital one bit. Comments on the color and decor, even the hideous hospital gown you have to wear. Partly to make you laugh, partly because it was all truly hideous.

If your surgeon even hesitates on a question you ask, Loki will assume they aren't the best and demand another doctor. You may have to talk him down a bit. He's a prince, after all, and he wants to make sure you are in the best hands possible.

The whole thing seems a bit barbaric to him. He would much have preferred using magic or Asgardian ways to heal you, but alas when on Midgard. 

Secretly terrified something will happen to you, but would never tell you he's worried. Doesn't like that he can't do anything to help you.

Is not very used to taking care of people, and as royalty, he's the one used to being waited on, but he will try his best to do whatever you need him to do.

Will probably mostly ignore instructions from the doctor so you are in charge of that part of your care, but he will beg to accelerate your healing with his magic if he can.

Eddie Brock & Venom

Venom brings you chocolates, which he then eats after you tell him he can, and says not to worry because if the doctors don't take proper care of you he will bite off their heads and eat their brains.

Eddie is nervous but trying to be brave, so you won't be scared. It doesn't help that Venom keeps telling Eddie not to make you nervous, which then, in turn, makes him nervous. He will try to make jokes and keep you entertained however he can.  

Eddie and Venom try not to argue while they wait for you to get done with surgery. The last thing you need is to wake up and find out that they ended up in the psych ward for talking to/arguing with themselves in the waiting room. They are on their best behavior.

Both of them try to wait on you hand and foot after you get home. You've had to eat several well-meaning but truly gross breakfasts in bed so as not to disappoint either of them. They mean so well, but neither of them can cook beyond tater tots.

You have woken up to Venom staring at you because “one of us has to watch you at all times until you are recovered”. He took that 100% seriously. He has also stuck tendrils under the bathroom door like cat paws.

One great thing about Venom is the fact that thanks to his tendrils, he can literally get anything you need from around the apartment in seconds without you or Eddie having to get up. This makes him one of the best nurses ever. All you have to do is hint that you want something and boom, it's there.

[revelboo]

Oh damn!! Mind if I just explode into particles about the latest Circuits and Wires??

BOOM!! 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💕💕💕💕💕

I love it so much

Wheeljack’s always been a favorite, just that optimism that’s undiminished no matter how many times his projects literally blow up in his face.

Also: Let’s see how many of these I can update in a day

Circuits and Wires Pt 10

Wheeljack x Reader

• Shifting to sit curled up in his lap, you’re aware of him shifting his arm as if wanting to touch and not sure where is okay. Biting into the inside of your cheek as he struggles, you reach back and pull his arm around you, pressing his big hand against your hip and feeling him shiver under you. Because one of you is going to have to be assertive and you’re almost positive it’s not going to be him. Reaching for his other hand, you pull it to you and play with his servos, fingertips tracing over the softer metal mesh at the inside of his wrist as you lay your head against him.

• You’re so soft and warm against him, he wants to tip your head up. Explore your soft mouth and let his hands wander. Would you let him? Optics dim, he doesn’t dare try to find out. Too afraid of being rejected or ruining this. Glossa sliding against his bottom lip remembering the feel of your mouth on his, he flexes his servos when you run your fingertips against the inside of them. And you look up at him, head against his shoulder. Slowly, he presses his palm to yours, intertwining his servos with your fingers, the difference in how much smaller your little hands is, shocking. Even mass displaced, you’re so delicate compared to him. And a part of him thrills at that difference.

• Breath catching as you stare at your hand trapped in his much bigger one and feel the servos of the hand on your hip flex against you. Making you wonder what those big hands would feel like on you. “I keep thinking I’m going to break you,” he says, vocal indicators flickering mauve. Embarrassed? About breaking you? Why would he even-oh. Heat spilling through you, his awkwardness twists, takes on a new meaning. Not even sure how that would work between you two. Though, those big fingers could be put to use. And now the thought is there as your face heats.

• Head ducking against him as he catches a glimpse of how red your face just got, he frowns. “I promise you won’t break me,” you mutter, avoiding looking at him as your fingers squeeze his. Venting, he absently rubs against your hip and rests his chin on top of your head. Loving the feel of you against him and not quite believing that he’s allowed this much.

• “I hope not. I like having you around,” he says as you cringe. Because nope. It’s going right over his handsome, dense head unless you spell it out for him. Maybe he’d hadn’t meant it that way after all. And asking about it? Bluntly telling him that you’re interested in him that way? You’d rather curl up and die of embarrassment right now. So you’re right back to square one, you too shy and him too damn oblivious.

Previous

I am all motors and gadgets

Organically designed to last a finite length of time

Locked in this rotary motion, the wheel spins round and round

I comprehend it all but still can't make a sound

I know there's something wrong within my faulty brain

I lack the proper behavior

My temper-addled tongue can't seem to force it out

The words that linger inside me

Can't speak, can't speak, can't speak at all

Don't even think you know the reason

Can't speak, can't speak, can't speak at all

Don't even try to understand

I am all circuits and wires

Conducting symphonies of heat exchange energies

My temper-addled tongue can't seem to force it out

The words that linger inside me

[hyperlexichypatia]

It's not just about the word "sentient" -- most speculative fiction reads like it's written by someone who's never heard of animals, and once I notice this, I can never unnotice it.

So many fictional stories center on "What if there were these beings who were different from humans? Like aliens, or elves, or talking rabbits who wear clothes?" And yeah! I love stories like that!

But there are also literally millions of non-human species right here on Earth!

We just don't understand them. We want to think about "What if there were a species of life forms that weren't humans?" but we're so locked into our cholesterol-based human brains that we can't really imagine being one of these other species. So we either imagine other species in an anthropomorphic way ("What if a fox wore clothes and had a job and spoke English?") or imagine a completely fictional type of life form ("What if there were beings that were like humans, but they could live for hundreds of years or more, or they could read minds, or they could teleport, or?") and I, once again I must reiterate, I love stories like that.

But the appeal of these stories is that it's easier for us, as humans, to imagine and empathize with a robot, or an alien, or a mermaid, with human-like thought processes, than it is for us to imagine or empathize with an octopus, or a canary, or a beetle. Let alone a tree, or a lichen, or a mushroom. I find it so disappointing when a story featuring nonhuman beings just reifies the human/animal binary by reframing it as "higher creatures/lower creatures" or "sentient/non-sentient" or "intelligent/non-intelligent."

Usually when I mention this to people, their response is, "Okay, if 'sentient' is the wrong word, what word is better? Sapient? Intelligent?" and no. I'm not saying you're using the wrong vocabulary word with the wrong precise meaning. I'm saying you need to radically, fundamentally reexamine your base assumptions about the human/animal binary. You don't need to find a different word to express the assumption that non-human animals don't think, feel, communicate, learn, or solve problems; you need to actually start understanding that non-human animals do, in fact, think, feel, communicate, learn, and solve problems.

I only started thinking about the human/animal binary as an outgrowth of my interest in disability rights and youth rights, since so many of the purported things that make humans essentially different from "animals" are also things that exclude children and some disabled people. Oh, humans can talk and animals can't? So preverbal children and nonverbal disabled people aren't human?

Sometimes animal people invite this comparison themselves, saying things like "A dog is as intelligent as a 3 year old child." I mean, no, that's not true, a 3 year old human isn't as good at, say, scent tracking, as a dog of any age, but more fundamentally, a 3 year old human child is, in fact, human. And then some animal people like Peter Singer will actively spell out that a nonhuman animal should have more human rights than a disabled human child. The fact that "intelligence" is a concept always invoked in animal discussions, and that pet-keepers often self-identify as "parents," is proof that we can't seriously build the underpinnings of disability and youth liberation without problematizing the human/animal binary.

One time in a fandom group my partner pointed out that nonhuman animals are, in fact, sentient, and somebody responded sneeringly "You must be a vegan." Now, they're not a vegan (neither am I), but what a comeback. "You only acknowledge that animals have thoughts and feelings because you don't eat them!" My man, my dude, if acknowledging the reality that animals are thinking, feeling beings makes you feel weird about eating them, that's something you have to reconcile within yourself. You don't get to deny reality about it.

And ultimately, I do understand why stories about humans interacting with nonhumans tend to anthropomorphize the nonhumans -- because these stories are written by humans, read by humans, interpreted through the lens of human understanding. We really can't understand what it's like to be a frog or a salmon or a hippopotamus. I can't really know what it's like to feel the air change with my antennae, or process information through my octopus arm. That's our limitation. But I wish we would be more aware that we don't know what we don't know.

The best story I've read that really confronts the human/animal binary in all its existential absurdity is the Animal Man volume by Grant Morrison. Animal Man realizes that the human/animal binary is meaningless, becomes an eco-terrorist about it, has an existential crisis, realizes he's a fictional character in someone else's story, and confronts his creator. We're all God's creatures, and xe's fucking with us. Only logical reaction, really.

[directdogman]

Dialtown is the most USA-core game I've ever played. It's so fucking American that it's scary, and I've lived there my entire life! Like, this feels fundamentally tied with the game's themes and narrative, that's how extreme it is. And it's not even alienating OR nationalist?? It makes such genuine commentary? And then there's so much other shit to think about too; Dialtown has a very real identity outside this that anyone could love?

One: I am VERY impressed that you have done the USA and its people this well. I am actually astounded, bewildered, and chuffed. I've never felt so seen by a video game, culturally-speaking. I didn't even know there was a culture to see.

Two: WHY did you do that. Dialtown is like USA Culture Absurdified: The Visual Novel. What drove you to make a game this rich with American culture and ideas???

Hello!

It would've been odd for an outsider (non American) who enjoys reading up on history to make my setting nationalist or alienating. America is a country with a lot of serious issues. You can't really study how America is (and has been) internally run without facing glaring and obvious systematic issues. DT's setting is one of scarcity and most of the main characters you follow in DT are kinda just scraping by without much hope for true mobility/advancement. A lot of Americans (especially younger generations) would agree this sorta encapsulates the national mood of the country right now.

Of course, the systems that run a country don't define its citizens - many of the finest people I've ever known are American and are victims of the whims of those with power, not willing participants in this system. I could be wrong, but that's why I think the setting connected with a lot of people. We all know Randys, Olivers + Karens, people who've fallen through the cracks in some way. To them, America's spirit of self-determination isn't about individual identity - it's more "you're on your own."

Why I chose to set DT in America would be a novel length answer in of itself, but it mainly came down to history + narrative opportunity. I wanted to set the game in the epicenter of where the phone-revolution came from and Crown likely couldn't have pulled his plan off anywhere else and probably not during any other time. It had to be 1960's America.

Of course, some parts of DT are sorta universal and were inspired by the the Great Recession and what followed. I remember there was an area not that far from my house that was full of green fields when I was born and when I was a kid (and when real estate boomed), stuff started being built there. Parts of it looked really nice, not quite like anything nearby. Like the future was coming. Then the economy crashed and stuff was left sitting there, half-built for like a decade. Skeletal, unfinished buildings. DT is much the same.

There's a feeling that the city could've been something better and while things could be more equal, it does feel like there are no easy solutions to fix everything - unless someone very smart and determined somehow bypassed every safeguard that was set up to halt radical change and enacted a genius plan to somehow eliminate scarcity. It happened once and might never again.

I don't think most people understand the intricacies of stuff like global commerce all that well (myself included), but when you're sitting looking at a half built neighbourhood mere hours after speaking to a friend who just kicked out of rented accommodation and doesn't have a stable family unit to fall back on, you'd have to be a real dolt not to understand that things aren't great right now. Most people are scraping by and feel if they could just get affordable housing locked down, if they had maybe one good opportunity - maybe there's hope that things could change for the better.

The end of DT isn't really utopian, things don't massively change for the better and indeed, the town has a lot of rebuilding to do. But, a collection of lonely people are now looking out for each other and through the relationships they have, now feel like they have a place in this world. That no matter how bad things really get - they aren't truly by themselves anymore. Most individuals don't have the means to significantly advance change on their own - but you can live your life, love those around you and support others and plan for when the opportunity to affect change comes about.

I guess that's what life is, in America or anywhere else. Sorry I rambled for so long. Hope this answered the question!

[aventurineswife]

The dad Aventurine fic genuinely made me want to cry but now i can't stop thinking of something

Imagine Aventurine having an extremely chaotic kid, like one of those kids where u take your eyes off of them 00.1 seconds and they 10 broken bones, have broken at least 15 vases and is currently on a sugar rush from eating too much candy.

It can be either a boy or a girl! Im very in love with your writing and i'd love to see your own thoughts on this Idea. Overall just Aventurine having to deal with his little demon spawn

The Greatest Award

Summary: Aventurine’s life is a high-stakes game, but nothing could prepare him for the chaos of parenting his five-year-old child. In a single afternoon, his once-luxurious office is reduced to shambles, courtesy of a sugar-fueled miniature whirlwind. As Aventurine tries to reign in the chaos with his usual charm and strategy, he learns that even the sharpest gambler can’t outwit the boundless energy and imagination of their own child.

Tags: Dad!Aventurine and his demon spawn child, Parent-Child Bonding, Domestic Chaos, Fluff and Humor, Mischievous Child, Found Family Themes.

Warnings: Mildly Destructive Child Antics, Implied Past Trauma(?), Excessive Use of Candy and Paint.

A/N: I lost my previous fic i wrote about this req, seems like it didn't save... 😭😔💔. So, have this while I cry with my broken back 😪

The room, once an opulent display of Aventurine’s impeccable taste, now resembled the aftermath of a casino heist gone wrong. The velvet curtains had been pulled down, puddling on the floor like fallen royalty. His priceless roulette-themed rug? Drenched in some unidentifiable sticky substance that smelled faintly of caramel.

And in the center of it all stood the culprit—Aventurine’s five-year-old child, grinning like a miniature devil. Their hair, much like their father’s, was streaked with suspiciously bright blue paint. In their hand, they wielded what appeared to be the broken leg of an antique chair as if it were a sword, declaring, “I’m the Ruler of the Candy Castle!”

“Darling,” Aventurine’s voice was sharp but calm, his smile firmly in place despite the chaos around him. “Care to explain why my baccarat table is missing a leg?”

The child tilted their head, pretending to think. “A monster ate it.”

“A monster?” Aventurine pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a rare migraine brewing. “Was it the same monster who broke three vases, emptied my desk drawer of poker chips, and decided my coat rack was a jungle gym?”

They nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, and then it told me candy makes monsters go away!”

Before he could respond, they took off like a rocket, their tiny feet thundering across the marble floor.

“Darling—” Aventurine began, but they were already scaling a bookshelf like some kind of sugar-fueled mountain goat.

For a moment, he simply stared, calculating the odds of them not breaking a limb versus the likelihood of toppling the entire structure. Slim to none. He reached out just in time to catch them mid-leap, their laughter ringing in his ears as he set them firmly back on the ground.

“Listen, kitten,” he said, crouching down to meet their wild eyes. “You’re giving Daddy a run for his money, and I don’t lose. But if you keep this up, I might have to start betting on when you’ll turn the entire estate into rubble.”

They gasped dramatically. “You’d bet on me?”

“Absolutely.” He tapped their nose. “But I’d also bet that if you sat down for five minutes—five minutes, mind you—I’d let you pick out the next ridiculous hat I wear to work.”

Their eyes sparkled with devious glee. “Even the one with the feathers?”

Aventurine suppressed a groan. He had gambled with empires, conned royalty, and survived assassination attempts, yet this small, chaotic creature could bring him to his knees with a single demand. “Even the one with the feathers.”

They pretended to consider his offer before darting off again, leaving Aventurine in their wake. A crash echoed from the next room, followed by an enthusiastic, “Oops!”

He stood, smoothing his blazer as he surveyed the wreckage of his once-pristine office. This was just another high-stakes game, he reminded himself. The rules were unconventional, the opponent unpredictable, but Aventurine always played to win.

“Alright, darling,” he called, striding after them. “You’ve forced my hand. It’s time to introduce you to the most dangerous weapon in Daddy’s arsenal.”

They peeked out from behind an overturned chair, curious. “What is it?”

He smirked, pulling out a deck of cards. “A little thing called discipline.”

Their giggle echoed through the halls, and Aventurine couldn’t help but laugh too. Because despite the chaos, the broken vases, and the candy-fueled mayhem, he wouldn’t trade his little demon spawn for all the chips in the universe.

[lucius-morningstar]

Kinda surprises me people would think so low to Millie while in the same breath loving her for her wild life style and not seeling how much the two life styles clash. Plus motherhood in hell I can't picture being very easy either. You don't always find great "souls" in there either. It's also a big possibility that Millie didn't feel ready to have a family yet. Now I didn't watch this episode but hearing the fact that so many people aren't taking Millie's reaction normally and assuming the worst of her. Seriously, cheating? Why?, Why do people need to be happy at the idea of having a child. It's not everyone's end all be all for life. Millie likes the life she has, a baby would possibly put her life at a stand still for a while. Her reactions are valid. A baby is a life, a whole new life she's bringing into the world which means her life will have to change drastically for a while. Her reaction to pregnancy is beyond justified and it's gross that people turned it into something wrong, that she was wrong to feel any other way but happy.

This episode was released yesterday and I have already seen so many people being weird about Millie's pregnancy. Even assuming that she cheated on Moxxie, beceuse they can't see any other reason for her to be unhappy about being pregnant.

Look how happy Millie is with her current life, how much she loves her job as an assasin. Being pregnant and then raising a baby doesn't really fit into her rather dangerous and not very stable lifestyle. It would be a big change for her but also for Moxxie, so it's understandable she is worried about his reaction.

Just because Millie is an adult and happily married, doesn't mean she's ready to be a mother. Or maybe she doesn't want to have kids at all, which is completly valid too.

[shuenkio]

Wishing on You | 니키 — 엔.하.이.픈 🎄

• Paring: Ni-Ki X M!reader | Genre: Soft fluff.

Synopsis: Dating M/N as a joke, using the relationship to escape his own painful memories. However, karma strikes when Ni-ki unexpectedly falls deeply in love with M/N for real.

Cw: bad language, none.

Non proof read | English is not my 1st.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A☃️N: A Christmas gift for all lol, I cannot can't be in this holiday 😜 can't exactly say I'm back but it's 5050. Anyway advance happy Merry Christmas.

"I'm sorry about this m/n, look I'm sorry ok? You know I never apologize to someone but you. I know I was wrong in this for toying you, and I know you won't forgive for what I've done for... Can we pretend like this was never a joke ? Like we're for real together now?" Ni-ki expressed how guilty he was, he never said the word sorry before which made this situation even worse and somehow made you feel special? Or was it a lie again?

Snow continues falls softly, blanketing the world in quiet. Each flake drifts lazily, melting on warm skin of both, turning the air crisp and still.

The icy weather does help you to get from boiling hot at some point however, deep down in your ocean of thought, it feels like he meant what he was saying. The bad guy who got destroyed by many girls, the one who got cheated on, the one who got hurt the most in the end. Then why would he toy with you, when he knows so well about this feeling, being betrayed on?

That's not the case right now, for what you're thinking. Kinda toxic that you wanted to get back with him too but why not? He can change, you can change him don't you? The one that never says sorry or thank you typa guy but for you, it was a different scenario? Ni-ki is regretful for what he did, well his nose is kinda red right now wait is he tearing, gosh.

Stressing, Hands tucked into coat pockets, m/n exhaled, warm breath curling into the frosty air. You made up your mind, either staying with him or ending this relationship for real.

Tears streamed down his face, silent and unbroken, Ni-ki's chest still as if even grief refused to shatter the quiet. He looks down to the snow covered ground, avoids being looking at, while he is on his weakness.

Close the distance between you and him, as you lift up his chin.

"Are you sure you'll never do it again?" You asked. He drew a shaky breath, forcing himself to steady, his voice trembling but clear as he spoke through the tears, determined something.

"i swear to Santa, if I'd toy, cheated, playing with your feelings again on you, I'd let you shave my head bold" what?

"sigh shut up"

"can I...hug you?" M/n rolled his eyes, exhaling sharply as Ni-ki, still wiping away tears, hesitantly asked for a hug.

"fine I guess..," You said nonchalantly, the voice is flat, as you shrugged slightly, offering no more than a careless glance. Despite the dismissive tone, you didn’t pull away when Ni-ki stepped closer.

Ni-ki wrapped his arms around you, pulling them close, resting his chin on your shoulder despite the height difference. There was a warmth in the embrace, a sense of quiet comfort that filled the space between them.

Under the flake storming, You could feel the weight of Ni-ki sigh against your neck, the way his body seemed to melt, just for a moment, into the calm of being held. It was a strange mixture of vulnerability and safety, and though You'd remained still, that both of you couldn’t ignore the faint tug in their chest.

"I'll be good for you... Really"

"..."

"바보같이 사랑해..."

"Okay... Well um... Merry Christmas?"

© to all the rightfully owners of pics and dividers.

[reashot]

So you and Ruby?...

Blake: Look at those two... *Watching Lancaster moment from behind a bush*

How could they say that they don't have feelings for each other?

If only there's a way for me to know about their true feelings...

???: Why don't you just ask them?

Blake: Nyah!!!

Cardin?

What the Salem are you doing sneaking up on me? Gods, I always know there's something wrong with you!

Cardin: Huh? I can say the same thing to you creeping up from behind the bushes while watching dork number 1 & 2 eye fucking each other.

Blake: *gasp* So even you know that there's something between them.

Cardin: You have to be blind not to.

Blake: Still I need something more substantial...

And you said that you will help me?

Cardin: What are friends for...

Some times later.

Jaune: Bye Ruby.

Cardin: Hey wuz up. Mind answering me some questions?

Jaune: Cardin? S-sure asks away.

Cardin: So Jaune... Are you and Ruby dating?

Jaune: W-what no! Propestrous, ludicrous and just downright silly. Ruby and me are not dating.

Cardin: I see... So you won't mind if I ask her out then?

*record scratch*

Jaune: Excuse me?

Cardin: Yeah I'm thinking about asking her out. She's cute and you said you're not interested. That is okay with you right?

Jaune: Y-yeah of course. I mean I'm not her boyfriend. *Starts shaking* of course you can ask her out on a date. Ha, ha, ha. I mean why do I care about who she's dating. *Bite lips*

Cardin: ... Okay. I mean it's nothing serious I'm just going to pump and dump her... *Ghugh*

*strangling Cardin*

Jaune: What did you just say to me? You want to use Ruby as an outlet for your lust. I might not be interested in Ruby like that and I'm not her boyfriend. But I am her friend. If you think I'm going to let you treat Ruby like that you have another things coming.

She meant the world to me as a friend. When I'm with her the world shines a little more brighter. Her smile is the most beautiful thing in the world. And I will do anything, absolutely anything to protect it. Do you hear me Cardin!?

Cardin: *gasping for air*

Jaune: I know I can't choose who she decides to go out with and I certainly can't choose who she falls in love with. But I can make sure to protect her from people like you!

If you still want to go after Ruby fine! I can't stop you. But you will treat her like a lady. You will buy her flower and take her out on a date. A fancy one. Treat her the way she is meant to be treated. You will give her compliments like how cute her smile is or just how cute she is in general. Because she is so gosh darn cute!

You get that Cardin?

*Let Cardin go*

Cardin: *cough* c-clear...

Jaune: Good... And I will tell Ruby that you're asking her out on a date. So remember to treat her well, all right. She's my best friend... We'll see you.

Cardin: Fucking psycho...

You get all of that Blake?

....Blake?

Meanwhile behind the bush

*lying on the ground with nosebleed*

Blake: he, he, he, he... My OTP...

In unrelated news Blake's romance novel just reached an all time best sellers across all four kingdoms.

[cherie-doll]

Could you do like a scenecore reader that also dyes their hair? and cod men? Like dunno giving them a handmade bracelet I dunno? *pokes my fingers together*

-🪒(Reserving a Anon cause i'll be back!)

hii 🪒 anon!! glad you're reserving! and if anyone else wants to do the same then feel free to do so :D

ミ☆ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Scenecore!Reader x COD Men

★ Price...

sometimes when he comes home he'll find you in the bathroom dying your hair, he loves seeing you do fun stuff with your hair and will even run to buy more box dye incase you run out or you got the wrong color (which happens often)

there's a hc that he was prob a punk or some sort of alternative when he was a teen so he's familiar with you customizing and diying your stuff

he also never thought to be into the scene subculture but he can't help but smile when you leave a handmade kandi bracelet for him, even if it looks a little out of place for him to wear, he doesn't care

he will put that on his wrist and wear it around like he wears his ring

★ Ghost...

it's funny when walking around together in public with the tall intimidating guy who's always wearing a face covering and dark clothing and then there's you, the bright clothes, the dyed and teased hair, arms covered in kandi bracelets looking like a rainbow vomited on you

they should really see your house... his side of the closet is almost the same outfits just different shades of dark colors and your side has possibly every color ever made

still, if people looked close enough they would be able to see the bracelet you made for him that just barely peeks out from underneath the sleeve of his jacket along with some jelly bracelets

people often assume Simon is some former goth dating the scene/scenecore

★ Soap...

you wonder why you ran out of dye so quickly when you need it, you had bought a couple new boxes of hair dye only to find them gone when you needed them, when you see Johnny it all makes sense; he had attempted dying his own hair

according to him he wanted to try wearing your hair extensions first but quickly realized they wouldn't stay in, you can't help but laugh at how his hair turned out, the front looks kinda good it actually surprises you, the back however...

when at a store he's actually the one hyping you up when you find something you could use to incorporate it into your look, he buys whatever for you and loves wearing matching kandi bracelets with you

his whole forearm will be covered in kandi and jelly bracelets he doesn't care he loves it!

★ Gaz...

he knows where you are in a store by the ton of jewelry you wear with charms and beads, or you might accidentally drop a bracelet or lose an earring leaving a trail he can follow to find you

ofc he knows to find you either in a thrift shop, in the jewelry section or where the box dye is at, he's quick to offer to buy anything you might want

he knows how much you love experimenting with your hair, maybe you like adding animal prints in your hair :D

in the car he likes to put your playlist on that will have you both vibing together throughout the entire car trip, poor soul to whoever is travelling with you tho

★ Roach...

loves wearing anything you gift him, especially if you customized it or made it yourself, he wants to feel included, often times when you're touching up on your hair or dying it again he'll sit in the bathroom with you

sometimes it takes a long time dying your hair, especially if you like to do prints on your hair because you're tired of your extensions falling out all the time :(

and the entire time he's sitting there keeping you company looking at you like this :D

he even helps you pick out which color you should do next when you can't decide!

he gets all giddy when you sit down and make kandi bracelets together <3 and then gift him the one you made and he gives you the one he made, so now you're wearing bracelets the other made!

★ Alejandro...

your style was definitely something new to him, due to the great war of emos vs punks in '08 in Mexico he assumed you were what he described a 'colorful emo', until you corrected him

he really likes it actually, he's seen how you manage to coordinate your outfits and even cut, dye and style your own hair, talk about being resourceful!

when your hair is freshly dyed, you'll wash it and go to sleep with it slightly damp, the next morning you wake up to find your pillow stained, it used to scare him real bad when you had it dyed red and he assumed the stain on the pillow was blood

★ Rudy...

he loves learning about what you're into, your interests are now his!!

he's also tried styling you before and he actually managed to do a pretty good job! you asked him how he did it and he mentioned he's seen you coordinate your outfits and so he was able to pick up off that

on his days off, he loves spending them with you and taking you to all the stores that have deals on their bundles so you can get a ton or new hair clips and silly accessories you end up trying on Rudy only to take a 0.5 pic of

and vice versa ^^ he loves taking pics of you in your outfits, in fact, on his phone lock screen he has you with your best outfit yet posing as his wallpaper, just to be smug he likes leaving his phone face up on the table just so that he can see that picture of you when a message lights up his screen

★ Phillip Graves...

won't ever ask you to "tone it down", it's your style and he thinks you should proudly wear it, you look unique and he personally loves it

he will definitely glare at anyone who scoffs or says a rude remark about you, especially if the area you live in is known to be more conservative, he loves seeing the look on people's faces when they see you walk past

sometimes his shadows like to tease him when they notice him wearing the bracelet you made for him, they keep saying it looks like some little kid made it but he quickly states that you made it for him

i can just imagine the whiplash when his playlist goes from his average dad rock/country music to your liked songs invading his phone when on shuffle, he might bop to it tho but won't ever admit it

★ Makarov...

he's told you multiple times he can just take you to get your hair professionally done, there is no need for you to buy cheap box dye for your hair but you like it better this way

this way you can add your own unique and personal touch to it that you love, and no professional hairstylist will be able to do it how you like it, he gives in and stops insisting after you remind him that every time

but he definitely loves your creative diy and style, he just wanted to make sure you weren't staining the bathroom towels with your box dye because you were too shy to ask him to take you to the hair salon but that's not the case :)

and he treasures the bracelets you gift him more than he does the expensive watches and jewelry he buys for himself

★ Keegan...

yk how kandi bracelets can say crazy stuff on them sometimes?

yeah so, the first time he noticed your bracelets and read some of the words you've arranged on there he was flabbergasted to say the least

you put diabolical phrases on his kandi bracelets when you make some for him, and when you put them on for him you make sure the words are upside down so HE doesn't notice it but the person who's in front of him will if they glance at it

it isn't until later when he takes them off that he notices they have sexual phrases, your favorite one for him to wear is one that says "suck me off"

★ König...

it took him a while to understand your texting whenever he peeked at your laptop when you left it open, he didn't really consider himself to be behind on trends until now even if it wasn't anything new but it was to him

he also doesn't know what half the references the words on your kandi bracelets mean either but he rolls with it anyways, you've probably told him before but you ramble on so much that he can only remember a handful of stuff you say

one of his favorite moments of the day are when he arrives home and you're just on your laptop scrolling and vibing to music, you even get up and dance to it inviting him to join you even if he's terrible at it but hey, at least you're having fun together :)

★ Horangi...

he knows how much you love thrifting for new clothes so he likes finding good thrift shops you can go crazy in and then show him the new outfits you put together with them, he also likes surprising you with brand/label clothes and items

you often feel guilty bc you know how expensive those brands can get but he insists on it, he loves you showing your colors and taking you out

he's even dyed his hair colors to match with you! you can't tell me he isn't a little into the alternative side as well, he's definitely expanded his style since he met you

you two even have your matching jewelry for almost every occasion that you've handmade when out on dates, like those places that are for couples to book so they can diy stuff together (if ykyk bc i forgot what they're called)

★ Nikto...

i can just imagine the first time you shuffled up to him and extended your hand to open it and he sees a colorful little bracelet there

he tilted his head, confused what you were offering to him, oh a bracelet? that little thing? it doesn't look like something he'd wear himself but... since you made it he slips it on, good thing the cord is elastic and stretchy therefore he can pull it through his burly, big hand

he shrugs but on the inside he feels his heart beat a little faster, later he forgets to take it off or you slip a bracelet in his duffel bag when he leaves another member will notice the colored kandi bracelet and ask about it

he's not in the slightest bit embarrassed to say it was you, no amount of teasing will make him take it off

[leeknow-thoughts]

𝅄  ׅ⊹ ۪ ꣑୧ dance of the sugarplum fairy

𝝑𝝔 l.mh x f!reader

𝝑𝝔 synopsis : Minho believes in fact over fiction. He's a scientist. It's practically in his blood. You're as much of a scientist as he is, hell, a better one than him at that. Yet, you still find wonder in the holidays. While you find wonder in presents and twinkling lights. Minho finds wonder in you. Could a confession gone wrong end up going right for him? Could you reciprocate his feelings that he's been pushing down for years and years?

𝝑𝝔 warnings : chemistry professor!minho, chemistry professor!reader, f!reader, mutual pining, christmas in a non-religious way, crying (in a sappy way), jisung! cameo, tooth rotting fluff, smut got mixed in with my fluff??, no clear dynamics, but minho is mommy (sorry guys act fucking surprised), mommy!kink, shower sex, p in v (unprotected, pls don't do this!!), pet names, pls lmk if I missed any warnings!!

𝝑𝝔 note from the author ! : Calliope once again indulges in soft!minho and doesn't apologize for it >_< I hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday season and that all who celebrate Christmas get exactly what they wanted!! :3

You're as reactive as Fluorine, and Minho wishes he didn't think of you chemically the way he does. He wishes he didn't immediately think of you when he thought of work and his experiments and the fucking teaching position he held. He wishes he could just think of you for you and he could go fuck off for all he cares - having a crush on his coworker.

And you're humming along to the song playing over the radio - some Clario song, he only knows who that is because you love her music. Honestly, he thinks you like music more than you like chemistry - so why did you choose to do this for a living?

You surely weren't a bad singer - Minho had heard you sing, it puts the harked herald angels to shame if he does say so - and you certainly were pretty enough to be famous.

Pretty was an understatement, you were the most devine creation to walk this earth. There's no way in his mind that he can conceptualize that you breathe the same oxygen as him - to him it was a privilege that he got to see you at all.

You were sought after, every fucking college in the nation wants you to work for them, yet you stay here. It wasn't like the place you work at is bad, it's MIT for Christ's sake, but Harvard has been asking for you for years.

He's almost offended by it, colleges treating you and all your brilliance like a tradeable Pokémon card.

Speaking of Pokémon, you're watching it on your phone as you finish up a lab report. How you can listen to music and watch a show and write a detailed report baffles Minho, but he doesn't question you because you're you, and he's the utter fool in love with you.

"You're spacing out Minho," your voice graces his ears, fuck, was he staring at you? "You look like you need a coffee, let's go get a cup, I'll pay."

You smile that sweet smile and talk in your sweet voice any longer and he's sure he's going to go insane. You're letting your hair down and it falls just right, framing your face perfectly. You had curled it that morning, and worn a perfume that smells like autumn.

He knows it's ridiculously foolish to consider something a chance that is nothing but stolen glances and blush stained cheeks and private thoughts. He can't help it.

"I think Jisung needs to start letting you get some sleep, you're zoning out so much," you hum with such concern, and he crumbles.

He feels almost dirty. Dirty for the thoughts he has of you. Dirty for the reason he isn't getting much sleep. Thinking about you in ways that would terrify a Catholic, or hell, even an atheist.

"'t's not Jisung," he slurs his words together.

They become a wet mix of vowels and articulations when he's talking to you. He hopes he doesn't sound this fucking dumb when he is teaching.

"Maybe you're sick," you tilt your head.

It's a habit you have, tilting your head when you make a statement. He finds it endearing. It was one of the first things about you that he perceived as such.

"'m fine, promise," he brushes off, "'nd I don' need any coffee."

"Well, you better wake up before the festival," you sigh, and he hates to think he let you down.

The festival, fuck, that is today. Each year the college throws a winter festival for the students, a lot of sororities and fraternities set up booths and the cafeteria gets turned upside down with decorations. The faculty's Secret Santa too, shit, he hasn't wrapped his gift. He really doesn't hate the festival or the idea of it, it keeps him young. He just doesn't know if he is gonna be able to stay around you any longer.

"Who did you get for Secret Santa?" you ask, taking a seat at the table, returning to your lab reports.

"Jus' Lix," he hates how drunk he sounds, "what about you? You always go above and beyond in the gift department."

He would never lie to you, you do go above and beyond with gifts. Each year, you go all out, spending a ridiculous amount of time and effort when it comes to the gifts you buy for people.

"Can't say unfortunately," you whisper, "or else it wouldn't be a secret."

You give him a smile that makes his stomach do a flip. "But I did get you something," you perk up.

You walk over to your bag and pull out a wrapped parcel, and carefully hand it over to him. "Thought you'd like it, took forever for it to ship over from overseas."

Minho examines the neatly wrapped box, wrapped in pink wrapping paper with a pink bow tied on top of the box. "Thank you," he sounds breathless.

He opens it carefully, and is met with a white box. He pulls the lid off and pulls out the cloth that sits on the bottom of the box. Revealing a white lab coat. The fabric is crisp and ironed. In the corner the text 'Dr. Minho Lee, PhD' is embroidered in black. Underneath the lettering is another embroidered patch. Instead of his name though, it's his three cats. Each of the cats looks identical to their real counterparts. "Sorry if it's stupid, I-" you apologize, "I just- I dunno-"

Stupid? It's the most thoughtful gift he has gotten in a long time. It comes from your heart, how could it be stupid.

You're the most beautiful and thoughtful person he's ever met. I love you, loved you for so long, he thinks to himself. He's so moved he almost feels like crying.

"Minho," you're quiet, stunned into silence.

He just realizes how his mouth has betrayed his mind, and his legs are moving with a panic.

The air is so damn dense as he sprints down the hall from the lab. The white fluorescent lights taunt him with their hum as he dashes away. Away from you, away from the chance that was all in his head.

He is gripping at the tie around his neck. He sees no comfort in the double doors out of the science lab, he is running without reason.

He breaks through the double doors and is soaked almost instantly. The snow is heavy and it patters against his body.

His legs stop moving, and he just stands there. In the snow. Terribly cold and terribly wet. He could curse God, but he doesn't believe in Him.

The doors behind him open and close. Doom blooms in his rapidly rising and falling chest. "Minho," it's you again, "Minho, you'll catch a cold."

His legs are frozen through. He couldn't move if there were a bear chasing him. He can't speak either. He's rendered silent. "Minho, it's about fucking time you confessed, b-because I-I l-love you too."

He can suddenly find the strength to face you.

When he does, the first thing he notices is your face. Mascara has soaked your cheeks, tear stains evident. "Y-huh? Wh-why are you c-crying?"

"Because I fucking love you," you sound weak- Minho never heard your voice sound so scared, "a-and you love me too? Did you mean it? You love me too?"

You're equally as soaked by the snow as he is. Your arms are crossed over your chest. He moves before he thinks, there really is nothing to think.

Hypothesis : you want him to kiss you. And according to the scientific method, he must test his hypothesis.

He's putting one foot in front of the other and moving to you. He wastes no time, simply cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss.

Sparks fly like shown in movies, his lips feel tingly and he can feel his heartbeat in every bone of his body.

Your lips are even softer than he imagined. Soft and molding against his own in ways that make him dizzy.

Like throwing a block of lithium into a pond, he feels like he may explode. Every atom in his body is undergoing a chain reaction that is so right he would never stop it.

"Love you," he's mumbling against your lips, "loved you for so long. You're everything I've ever wanted."

Tears brim his lashes, they nearly fall, but he is too elated to cry. "Minho," your voice is muffled by the sloppy kisses you're placing on his lips. You let out a groan and Minho's composure crumbles.

"Always been you," you hum, "since I met you, no one else."

All he had known until now had been decomposed and resynthesized. Like a chemical equation. He hates that he still thinks of you chemically.

Yet, he'd count every atom in your body so he could find out why you're so you. He's tear apart the heavens and the earth and chemically rearrange them just to see you smile.

Your bodies are melting together, forming a mixture of desperation, love, and lust. His hands are gripping every inch of your soft flesh available.

"Minho- mhm- take m-me home," you whimper into his mouth.

He kisses you one last time. He knows he will have this life, and the next to kiss you, he's in no rush.

His eyes finally open again, and he swears he has never seen a more beautiful sight. Your makeup is running down your face, and your lips are kiss bitten. Your body is pressed against his, and your hands are cupping his jaw. "H-home?" He stutters like a little kid.

"Your house," you grin, and he swears there's a mischievous glint in your eyes, "unless you don't wanna see me naked?"

If his jaw hadn't been on the floor before, it definitely was now. "God," he groans, "c'mon."

He's pulling you along with him, in the pouring snow, to his apartment. "If I catch a cold because of you, Lee Minho," you vaguely threaten.

"Then I'll nurse you back to health," he immediately replies.

You're both placing one foot in front of the other at a fast pace. When he sees his apartment around the corner, his heart thumps rapidly in his chest.

He doesn't struggle with the keys even though his hands are shaking beyond reasonable doubt. The warmth and comfort from his home is nothing compared to that which he gets from you.

He's stepping inside and pulling you in with him before slamming the door closed. A sudden fear rises in his chest, and any semblance of what to do next faded from his mind.

You notice this, you notice everything. "You okay?" you press your body against him.

You're both soaked from head to toe in cold water, yet you're so warm against him. "I-I?" he's stunned, like a dear in headlights.

You try and fail to hide the disappointment in your tone when you say, "do you not want t-"

He doesn't even leg you finish the sentence, "-I do. I do. I do. I-It's just not supposed to hap-happen like this."

"Please explain?"

"I - I have pictured, I've thought about us- us doing this, and I-I feel like I'm doing it wrong," you search his eyes for a clue as to what he means, "I mean-I just thought it would be so much more, romantic. N-not the confession, the- I just want to make it perfect for you."

"And how would you do that?"

"With rose petals and red wine and candles and-"

You shut him up with a kiss that is broken all too soon for Minho's preference, "you're such a dork, oh my god," you sigh playfully and hit his chest lightly, "I don't want roses or red wine, or candles. Minho, I want you. That's it."

"I-I," he stutters and can feel his cheeks heating up, "w-we should hop in the shower?"

"Excellent idea," you smirk.

Minho takes your hand in his and leads you to his bathroom, "sorry for the mess," he apologizes but knows that you won't mind.

He takes his eyes off you for only a moment to turn on the warm water, and when he turns back to you, you're halfway undressed. He swears he's never seen anything as beautiful as you.

You with your shirt and skirt in a heap on the floor, the only thing covering you is your underwear. Black cotton panties with lace hemmed on the side and a matching black bra.

You're reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra when he speaks up, "let me."

You smile at him and turn around, Minho's lips ghost down the side of your neck while his hands busy themselves, taking off your bra. He kisses down the back of your neck and your body shudders against his own.

You eagerly flip around and press your lips against his own. Now it's your hands that are pulling at his soaked shirt. You break the kiss but only for a moment, only so you can take off his shirt.

"Mhm," you moan into his mouth and Minho's grabbing at your sides like a madman.

His fingers hook under your panties and pull them down your legs.

And he finally gets a good look at your most sacred parts. They're more beautiful than his mind has ever painted them to be. Your breasts are soft to his touch, not too big nor too small. And your cunt, it looks tastier than a Sunday dinner in his eyes. His eyes rake down your happy trail that connects to your neatly trimmed bush and he wants to kiss it. He wants to kiss every inch of your skin.

He pulls down his boxers with his pants, and his semi-hard cock aches to be touched, to be inside you. You take his hand and step under the stream of water. He follows.

He'd follow you anywhere.

Hot water brings life to his cold skin. He's wrapping his arms around you, and his lips push against your own. "Where's the scar from?" you mumble the question between kisses.

"Had surgery wh-when I was a kid," he only stumbles over his words because your hand wraps around his cock and starts to slowly pump him.

He's so sensitive it hurts. Hurts all over. His body writhes at its own accord. "Your cock is so fucking pretty," you hum.

The words are filthy, but they sound as holy as the Pope's because they're said by you. "Baby- I-" you're so good at making him feel good.

Had you done this with someone else? Had you jerked them off in their shower? Had you ever brought another person this much pleasure?

Jealously pools in his chest at the idea of you with anyone that isn't him. "W-why are you so good at this? I-I just, please, wanna be the last. Can't handle the idea o-of you doing this to anyone but me," he confesses.

His sudden confession makes you falter and he tries to read the expression on your face, "last time I did this was before I met you, there's never been anyone since I met you. You were always gonna be it for me."

He almost sinks to his knees he feels so stupid. "D-do you want me to prep you?"

"There's no need, I promise," you smile at him.

You flip around, your body is pressed against his shower wall, the warm water hits his back and he swears he's never been more comfortable in his whole life.

He holds his cock in his hands and lines it up at your entrance. "You ready?" He can't help but sound a little cocky.

"God, Minho, just put it in," you whine.

His knees falter when he finally presses inside you, your walls are warm, inviting. You were right, you didn't need any prep.

"Oh, God," he groans even though he only has his tip in, "fuck, don't know how long I'm gonna last."

"Don't worry," you hum, a sharp squeak leaves your mouth when he stills all the way inside you.

He's buried so far in his cock is pressed up against your cervix. A shiver runs through his body when he finally thrusts inside you. You're tight and warm and so soft.

He's desperate, with every thrust of his hips he is losing every drop of his composure.

"Harder," you beg, "fuck me like you mean it."

His hips slam against your own, and you let out cries of pleasure as your body convulses against his own.

"Love you," you repeat the words like a mantra, they tumble from your lips with every thrust of his hips.

His hand wraps around your body and finds your clit. He would die if he didn't make you cum first. "Ah, jagi," he moans.

"Ah, Min- mama," you don't even realize what you're saying.

Mama? That was new, but he wouldn't protest. Not to you. Not in a million lifetimes.

"Mama, hmm?" Minho whimpers, "you wanna call me that?"

"Mhm," you nod your head furiously, "love you so much!"

How he loves you too.

His hand glides down your body and finds your swollen clit, he rubs it tenderly as his hips stutter in their movements. "Mama!" you squeal, "gonna cum!"

Minho can't warn you before he cums. He swears on everything he knows, this was the best sex he's ever had. His body convulses against yours and all that can be heard is the water hitting the shower and the both of your debauched breaths.

"Love you," you whisper.

Minho places a kiss on your spine, "I love you so much more, jagi. Merry Christmas."

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM WHEN HARRY MET SALLY *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

i've been doing a lot of thinking, and the thing is, i love you.

i love that you get cold when it's 71 degrees out.

i love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich.

i love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like i'm nuts.

i love that after i spend the day with you, i can still smell your perfume on my clothes.

i love that you are the last person i want to talk to before i go to sleep at night.

i came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.

i'll have what she's having.

would you like to have dinner?

i thought you didn't believe men and women could be friends.

when did i say that?

i mean, come on, who the hell are we kidding?

most women at one time or another have faked it.

they haven't faked it with me.

that's right. i forgot. you're a man.

what was that supposed to mean?

it is so nice when you can sit with someone and not have to talk.

marriages don't break up on account of infidelity. it's just a symptom that something else is wrong.

you realize of course that we could never be friends.

men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.

that's not true.

i have a number of men friends and there is no sex involved.

you only think you do.

they all want to have sex with you.

no man can be friends with a woman that he finds attractive.

i guess we're not going to be friends then.

you were the only person i knew in new york.

there are two kinds of women: high maintenance and low maintenance.

which one am i?

you're the worst kind.

you're high maintenance but you think you're low maintenance.

i just want it the way i want it.

you look like a normal person, but actually you are the angel of death.

don't you have a dark side?

when i buy a new book, i read the last page first.

if you could take him back now, would you?

why didn't he want to marry me?

what's the matter with me?

you're challenging.

i'm too structured. i'm completely closed off.

i drove him away.

how do you expect me to respond to this?

i'm leaving.

i don't have to take this crap from you.

what the hell does that have to do with anything?

are you finished now?

can i say something?

i'm sorry.

everybody thinks they have good taste and a sense of humor but they couldn't possibly all have good taste.

that is just like you.

you say things like that, and you make it impossible for me to hate you.

at least i got the apartment.

the first time we met, we hated each other.

we were friends for a long time.

it only took three months.

you will never have to be out there again.

i'm not going to tell you that.

i miss her.

you know what i miss? i miss the idea of him.

when did this happen?

you don't bounce back from that right away.

doesn't what i said mean anything for you?

i hate you, [name]. i really hate you.

what can i get you?

no one has ever quoted me back to me before.

you know, i'm so glad i never got involved with you.

i am not your consolation prize.

i wrote that.

you're going to have to try and find a way of not expressing every feeling that you have, every moment that you have them.

[marcell-arts]

Hey, little songbird

Viago de Riva & Rook, Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook | T | Fluff/Drama/Comedy

When it comes to poisons, Rook trusts no one more than Viago de Riva. Surely he can find out what's wrong with her, before its too late.

---

Or, Rook is pregnant, and Viago is the first to find out.

"Maybe we should just give up," Rook said hopelessly, about a week into their strict regime. She was sitting by the balcony, where Viago insisted she get some fresh air. It was a balmy Summer day, and the sea breeze was lovely, but she was wishing she were anywhere but here. It was getting lonely without her friends, and only an increasingly frustrating Viago for company.

"No, Rook, we are not giving up," he said flatly, not even looking up from where he was annotating her reaction to the last antidote. Thankfully, it was mild this time, but still showed little improvement to her health. "You did not kill Elven gods, vanquish the Blight and save the world, only to die to this bizarre poison." 

She sighed and rocked backwards. "It's been a week already though! How can a poison's symptoms last for this long without killing me?" 

He hummed. "Some effects can last weeks from point of contact," he replied, "Although admittedly, it is strange you are seeing no improvement at all, and no deterioration. One of these ought to have done something." He looked up. "Are you sure you don't have any more symptoms? Anything different?"

"No," she said sullenly, with the petulance of a child, "I still feel nauseous and light-headed every morning. And I still have no energy most of the day." She flung the book she had on her lap across the room. It bounced sadly on the bed.

He sighed and put down his quill. "Rook. You know I am just trying to help." 

"...I know that," she said quietly. She turned to face him fully, suddenly emotional. "Of course I know that. I trust you. I know you're doing everything you can. But I just wanted…" She exhaled in frustration. "I wanted everything to be normal again! I just wanted a break from it all. From saving the world! And now I'm stuck here, and I can't even enjoy a holiday with my friends in the sun! It's just not—" 

"Not fair," Viago finished understandingly, "I know. It's not. You deserve it more than anyone." 

To both their horror, she started crying. Fat tears filled her eyes and spilled uncontrollably down her face. She sniffled loudly and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand angrily. "Maker!" she huffed, "Why am I—I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm getting emotional." 

Viago got up to lend her his handkerchief. While he had never been good at handling women in hysterics, his ongoing relationship with Teia had made him generally more sensitive to their moods. He patted her shoulder a little awkwardly. 

"It's fine," he said quietly, "I know. It's a frustrating situation." But the miserable sight of her had something stirred uncomfortable in his gut.

It wasn't surprising she was frustrated—but it was surprising that she showed it, he thought. Even as a child, she had been good at putting up a positive front. Of course, she trusted him enough to not hide her emotions, but she never liked to worry him if she could help it. To not be able to handle her feelings now… was this also a symptom?

He racked his brain to think of a poison that could cause increased emotional outbursts. It was a bizarre side-effect, but not out of the realm of possibility. Though what would the poisoner be trying to attempt with this? Unless… was it not poison at all?

He glanced at her, blowing her nose loudly into silk he would probably never touch again. If it wasn't poison, then perhaps this was an ailment of some kind. A sickness of the mind? Or a disease of the body? A condition that caused nausea, dizziness, lethargy, and proneness to emotional—

His face went white. His fingers on her shoulder tightened uncontrollably. 

"Ow! Viago, what are you doing?" she winced, shaking herself from his grip. She looked up to see his head bowed, and a fine sheen of sweat on his neck. "...Viago? Are you alright?" 

He wasn't sure what he was going to say. 

"Viago?" There was concern in her voice. 

Viago shakily moved to sit on the armchair opposite her. His hair had fallen forward, shielding his eyes.

"Viago, you're scaring me. What is it?" she whispered. "Am I… dying?" 

"Rook…" his voice was unnervingly calm, but the wild eyes that met hers were not. Piercing blue and wide with fear. "Are you… could you possibly be…" He wet his lips nervously. "...Are you with child?" 

Read the rest on ao3

[tackykachowch]

Okay, here it goes. So, there's been this one thing that I was thinking about for quite a while. Almost a month, actually. Yes-yes, you guessed it, it's about s2 again. BUT!! With a twist. Let me show you what I mean

S2 introduced us to the (terrible) Vander's "apology" letter, a(n awful) flashback in The Last Drop, and the main element of our tonight's analysis - a (horrific) True Reason™️ for Vander and Silco's split up. In it we can see Silco throwing a molotov at enforcers and that led to F*licia dying. This enraged Vander and he tried to kill Silco. And what's wrong with that, you ask? Well, that was what I was asking myself as well. Because no matter how hard I thought about it I couldn't find a valid reason Why this feels wrong to me. So I went "Welp. Fine. Some things I just don't personally vibe with" but THEN. It Finally Hit Me. The thing that bothers me about this "reason" the most is the thematic dissonance.

Let's start from the very start (again). In season 1 ep2 Silco tells Deckard that "there's a monster inside all of us". See? This is a key phrase here. "There IS a monster inside all of us" meaning that no matter who you are, a hero or a villain or something in-between, there's ALREADY a living monster inside you. Let's take a look at a couple of examples. Vander let his monster out for a long time, hence why he became "The Hound of the Underground", but it didn't bother anyone since he was "the good guy" beating "the bad guys" up. Jinx showed her monster a little since she was young, and we can see it in how she was trying to make a working bomb with needles in it, but nobody paid attention to it since none of them worked. Deckard's monster was out and proud, but everyone was mocking him because he was weak. Mel let her monster take over her thoughts when she wanted to make Piltover her greatest creation no matter the price, even when the price was the lives of countless Zaunites. I think you get the picture. But why then Silco, the character who introduced us to this theme Himself, couldn't have one when he was young? What is the purpose of making him completely innocent? To make us sympathize with him more? Well, that's certainly a cheap trick, because people who wanted to emphasize with him already did so since season 1, and those who didn't probably won't do this even after the flashback. "Corrupted innocence" is not a bad trope, but like I showed with previous examples, it doesn't really mesh well with Arcane's world and other main characters. So, why not make it so Silco started to slowly let his monster come out to the surface, but Vander was so terrified of it that he decided to kill it no matter what it took? Because remember, the way Vander tried to kill Silco was EXTREMELY violent. It is very likely that he didn't want to take any chances with what he wanted to do.

Well that's all good and sound, you can say, but something isn't quite right here. Isn't the season 1 finale's title "The monster you created"? Why, you're completely right, my dear friend who is the other part of me I let to speak. But the thing is, these two themes coexist with each other, and moreover, they CAN'T exist without each other. There Is a monster inside all of us, ever since we're born really, but as we grow up and experience new things and meet new people more of these monsters can be created, or it can fuel the existing monster to become bigger and bigger (which still counts as creating tbf). Let's look back to the examples I provided earlier. Jinx was a little violent when she was a child, but then she experienced betrayal, grief, resentment etc, and they became her monsters as well, finally fusing into one in season 1's finale. Deckard's monster required only a little more power to become really terrifying. But there are a couple of characters who behaved themselves differently with their monsters. Because even tho there is a monster inside us, but like Victor said: "There's always a choice". You can love and nurture the monster, encourage it to become bigger and bigger, or you can try to ignore it, to seal it deep within yourself, until it finally bursts out, or you can accept it, live with it at peace and not let it influence you at the same time. That's precisely what Silco, Vander and Mel did, exactly in this order. And that's what makes the story all the richer and interesting, because characters deal with the same situation very differently.

So after all of this bunch of text I can finally and confidently say: s2's explanation for Vander and Silco's falling out is complete bullocks. Not only it cheapens the conflict between them itself, but also robs Silco and the story overall of their complexity and separates them from one of the main themes introduced in season 1. With that, dear audience, I bow out. Have a good night

[cloudyskydreams]

Yooo I really like that pregnancy ask and I wanted to suggest a what if! Pure angst and drama if you're up to it.

What if the pregnancy didn't go well near the end because S/O's magic is not very high (to begin with! monsters need both parents iirc to have a health about of magic to make a monster.) A couple of days after the baby bone is born, child protective services (the Canadian version of it.) have to take them to their father stating that the mother is in a coma and is unlikely to recover.

((What a way to start the day. Getting a knock on the door only to find a stranger hold a baby that they were so sure it wasn't theirs. AND their s/o is probably going to die because their SOUL magic was sucked up dry to make the baby. Said baby bones looks a bit unhealthy too because they developed without their pappa's magic and is weakly crying.))

((You can decide of s/o recovers or not.))

hhhhhh you guys need to be movie directors or something because the pure plot and drama being thrown at me recently.

S/O recovers because I like that route better having a free reign relationship with your child only to have the possibility of that taken away when your comatosed ex wakes up.

Holy fuck these turned out longer than I expected so I'm just doing 3 if you wanted a different character feel free to request again! Also the holidays are NOT being kind to me so my updates are probably gonna be wack as I deal with the shitshow I call a family hope you guys enjoy and happy holidays!

Undertale:

Sans: Sees the baby bones and kind of zones out as shock runs through his body. Then he hears the word coma and zones back in. "what?" he has them repeat their entire spiel and his soul stops for a second when he hears what happened. He hesitantly accepts the babybones and cradles him to his chest gently.He's not ready for any of this and his world is collapsing around him as he finishes the conversation with CPS. Once they're gone he takes the babybones inside and simply stares at him for a bit as he rocks him back in forth Infront of the door he hasn't moved two steps from. The baby is whining and looking at him is like looking at an exact replica of himself as a babybones. He takes a few deep breaths and chuckles which turn into a full body laugh which turn into sobs as he cradles the baby to his chest. Why didnt he trust you? He still loved you even though he was convinced you had cheated a part of him desperately hoping he was wrong but now that he knows he was it's devastating. He looks for monster food that would be suitable for a babybones hoping to soothe his cry's and get his bones looking healthier. The entire time he's shaking as he rummages through the cabinets. Finds something akin to applesauce and spoonfeeds the little guy. Goes out and picks up a bunch of stuff (good, toys,clothes ect.)when Papyrus gets home. The first night he can't sleep and simply stays awake watching the babybones all night. He vows he's going to be the best dad ever while staring at his baby boys sleeping face a rush of paternal protectiveness rushing over him. He does a good job at taking care of the baby as he has experience since he had to basically raise Papyrus. He visits you once and the guilt destroys him so badly he can't visit you again. It had been a few months when he received a call. Surprise surprise it's you on the other end having just woken up and wanting to see your child immediately. Sans is more than happy to comply and gets to the hospital as soon as he can with the baby who's looking much healthier. Hesitates outside the doorway as he cradles your guys son to his chest. Possibilities and what ifs running through his head as anxiety starts to simmer. When he enters the room you look so relieved and happy to see him which happily surprises him till he realizes you're probably excited to see your baby. He hands the child over and suddenly your crying, the baby's crying, he's crying, all of y'all crying. He apologizes profusely before you can say anything and says he should have believed you how wrong he was and how sorry he is you had to go through everything alone and his grateful he is to see you again. He understands if you don't forgive him but don't expect to be rid of him because he's absolutely sticking around in his son's life.

Edge:Honestly when he sees the child and hears what CPS has to say he thinks he's having a nightmare. He's dreamt of similar situations where your baby actually turned out to be his nothing quiet like this but it's similar enough he's really thinking he's still asleep. Takes the child and thanks the CPS people for their time before going back inside. Trys to soothe the baby's cry's and rocks him gently in his arms. Checks the clock to make sure he has enough time to get to his next appointment in the day and yeah he's got a good bit, wait.... you can't read time in your dreams. He looks back at the clock and gently sets the baby down on the couch as he does the equivalent of pinching himself. Fuck fuck wait he's not dreaming. A flood of cold numbers rushes over him as he remembers what CPS said... He gently scoops the baby back up and shelves his oncoming mental breakdown as he stares down at his son. When Red gets home Edge recruits him as a babysitter (his thought process being he raised me he can watch a baby for an hour or so (red was absolutely stressed tf out))as he runs out to grab supplies and sort himself out. By sort himself out I mean destroying a chunk of a forest with his magic to workout all his anger and devastation. He trys his best to take care of the babybones his brother surprisingly giving good advice every now and then while he figures out how to be a dad. He's extremely gentle with the child and speaks on the most soothing fatherly tone to the little baby. He visits you in the hospitals bi weekly leaving little messages of memorable moments with the baby and some pictures. A few months goes by and one day he receives a call. It's a very frantic you on the other end and he can't help the immense amount of relief he feels as he hears your voice begging him to see your child. He brings the babybones to the hospital and stays quiet as he watches you two cuddling. He doesn't speak up until you thank him for watching the babybones. Tells you there's nothing to thank him for he was doing his job as a father and then it's quiet for a bit more before he hesitantly approaches and bows his head. He apologizes for his actions, for not trusting you, for everything you had to deal with alone. He's not expecting you to forgive him he wouldn't forgive himself but he does want to be apart of the child's life and immediately says so making sure you're aware of his intentions. Most likely to take you to court for custody of you refuse to let him father his child.

Stretch:Was woken up by the knock and answered the door still half asleep. Hears the story, takes the kid, thanks them and closes the door. It takes him like five whole minutes until he's like wait what the fuck. Holds the baby Infront of him by the armpits and looks at his mini lookalike with horror. Holy fucking shit he was wrong? He's a dad?? YOU'RE IN A COMA?? He gets lightheaded for a second and sits down on the couch with the crying baby in his arms. He hesitantly rocks the babybones not really sure what he's doing and immediately calls Blue. He's shaking as he's on the phone with his brother who says he's on the way. When Blue gets there he shows Stretch which foods the baby can eat and how to care for it. Stretch appreciates the help and kind of throws himself into caring for the child instead of thinking about the fact you're in a coma. He's sleeping on a beanbag chair in the nursery and wakes up as soon as the baby starts crying. Every waking moment is spent caring and playing with the babybones. Sometimes late at night he thinks about you and everything he's lost and missed out on but you've given him the best gift he could have ever asked for, a son. He visits you in the hospital occasionally leaving your favorite flower and pictures of the baby he's taken. Surprise surprise a month later when he gets a call and you're alive desperate to see you're baby. He brings the child and is grateful to see you awake when he hands him over. He immediately apologizes he tells you how wonderful his son is and how much he loves him and begs you to let him be apart of the child's life. He understands if you don't want him back as much as he misses you he fucked up he wasn't there and you almost died because he wasn't. He just loves his kid man he will be there for him and you if you let him.