#this is over 2 years old im gonna be sick

[x-xphantomime]

get silly with it

[blitzyn]

shut up

childe x m!reader

request: none

a/n -> im sick and tired of winter WHERE IS SUMMER. help i wrote some of this in public so i had to stop myself from acting out some of the motions just to figure out how to write it lmao. guys i kinda made him a little mean i just got a little carried away oopsies. anyways one more non req and ill work on reqs i hope

wc -> 3.8k

cw -> very dubcon, hate sex, a lil bit of blood, anal sex, spit as lube, not a lot of prep, degradation, manhandling, throat fucking, asphyxiation, reader is a masochist, mean dom childe, spitting (in ur mouth like once), chokehold, prone bone position for like 2 seconds lmao, brief descriptions of fighting, reader offs someone cuz he felt like it kinda, it starts sorta abrupt tbh lol, not beta read

Childe fucking hated you. This was old news—absolutely anyone who had the barest idea who he was knew that. Everyone within a twenty meter radius could hear him arguing about something, and it never seemed to be about the same thing more than once. There always seemed to be something the two of you nitpicked about each other, throwing it out into the open which, more often than not, led to a fight with no clear winner.

There wasn’t anything anyone could do about it since the two of you were Harbingers. You were ranked tenth after Signora’s death and The Balladeer’s desertion, just behind Childe who was in ninth. But that didn’t stop you from riling him up relentlessly, even finding some type of enjoyment from his anger because you knew it wasn’t particularly common to see. Really, there wasn’t much of a power difference between the two of you other than the fact that you were less experienced.

As such, you were often assigned to missions together—if assigned meant that you simply joined him when you didn’t have anything important to do, much to his obvious displeasure.

This time, you followed him towards a hideout hidden between large rocks. It was simple, and you preferred that it wasn’t so easily accessible, but you supposed that hiding it in plain sight was acceptable for now.

“I don’t like how easy it is to find this place,” you commented, taking in your surroundings as if you were impressed by how large the area was compared to the small cave entrance. “It’s so obvious.”

Childe only offered you a grunt in acknowledgement, making his way past a few scattered materials on the floor. This wasn’t a facility that the Fatui used as much as before, but some machines were still operational and functioning.

“Ignoring people when they’re talking to you is rude, Tartaglia,” you chided, but you couldn’t care less that he wasn’t responding. “Besides, it’s not like you disagree with me. You wouldn’t want a poor, helpless child accidentally stumbling across this place while they’re playing a game.”

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, and you could see him grit his teeth when he noticed the smug expression on your face. “Nobody’s gonna find the entrance. It’s been around for years and there hasn’t been a trespasser.”

“Really?” You hummed, nodding slowly to yourself. “If you say so.”

He eyed you warily, instantly skeptical of how quick you were to accept his statement. But that wasn’t important right now—he needed to retrieve some documents and collect money from a few debtors.

“Just… Just stay here. Don’t touch anything,” he instructed, unnerved by how you obediently sat on a rickety chair and watched him expectantly.

“Yessir,” you replied with a playful tone in your voice, crossing your arms over your chest comfortably.

He silently stared at you for a few moments. “What are you planning?” He blurted out, annoyed with the eyebrow you raised in question. “You don’t like listening to me.”

You rolled your eyes at his accusation. “I don’t really favor getting chewed out by whoever needs those papers, so hurry up and get what you need. I’d rather talk to the debtors, anyways.”

He didn’t move from his spot for a few more moments before hesitantly making his way toward an isolated room, seemingly accepting your response. You chuckled through your nose at his reluctance as you swirled your finger around, creating a small rabbit made out of Cryo. It was quiet and unassuming as it silently hopped around before you sent it out of the room, searching for any valuable items worth keeping as you waited.

You leaned back in boredom, shutting your eyes to focus on keeping the rabbit's form. You could feel a faint hint of interest radiating through you from your creation, cringing slightly at the smell of metal before you relaxed again. The rabbit was mid-search when an arrow whizzed past it, nicking its back. Quickly, it fled, leaving a trail of Cryo. The hunter cursed loudly and chased after it, but it wasn't long before it made it to its destination.

Curious, you released your focus on the rabbit as you stood up to pick up whatever it found. You looked up when the hunter suddenly walked through the cave entrance, slightly surprised to know that they hadn't stopped trying to go after your rabbit. The two of you stared at each other before you spoke up in mild disinterest.

"Can I help you?" You questioned, inspecting your find once again. It was shiny and had intricate designs on it, but ultimately worthless.

"Uh... Uh, yes! Yes, you can," they said after a moment, scoping the area in search of their nonexistent rabbit. "Have you seen a white rabbit run through here? Small, quick, and leaving some sort of trail behind it," they described eagerly, taking a few steps forward.

"I'm afraid you can't come in here," you said, raising a hand to stop them in their tracks. You analyzed them for a moment, taking in their appearance. They couldn't have been older than fifteen, with shaggy brown hair and tanned skin.

"Then why are you in here?" They countered stubbornly, crossing their arms. It seemed they forgot all about their hunt in favor of digging into your business.

"That's none of your concern," you replied, ignoring their questioning gaze above your shoulder. "If you don't leave now, I'll have to resort to force."

You bristled a little when you saw them roll their eyes. Too stubborn for their own good, apparently. "Yeah? Well, I'm the chief's kid. What's a weird-looking guy like you gonna do to me?"

You frowned, visibly offended. You stared at them for a moment before raising your dominant hand again, this time letting an icicle form on the tip of your middle finger before flicking it directly at them. In the blink of an eye, they went down with a loud thud. "Kill you," you replied to the body.

You walked up to them and lifted their head by their hair, examining the wound on their forehead with a hum. Blood leaked in copious amounts down their face, and you couldn't stop the grimace when some landed on your foot.

"Oh, shit," you hissed under your breath when you caught a better look at them. You wondered why they seemed so vaguely familiar to you when the realization suddenly hit you-the chief was one of the debtors. You pursed your lips before standing up with a shrug, placing a hand on your chin to ponder different ways to dispose of the body without tarnishing the Fatui's name even further. "I suppose I could just toss them in a lake? Or lure in a wild animal to eat them? Burning's too obvious..."

"What the fuck did you just do?" You heard Childe curse from behind you. You turned around to face him, eyebrow twitching in interest when you noticed his normally void eyes alight with fury. Honestly, though, you didn't quite understand why he seemed so upset. Maybe it was because of how transactions with the debtor may not go as smoothly as he wanted, or the fact that the person you killed was still technically a child.

"Someone found the entrance," you shrugged, unbothered by his reaction. "We don't want anyone finding important information about the Fatui, right? So I killed them. I told you it was easy to spot." You rolled your eyes like it was the most obvious thing ever, which only served to anger him. You tried to make your way past him deeper into the facility in search of something interesting to take when a sudden blur slammed your body into a wall. You let out a pained grunt, instinctively wrapping your fingers around the wrist where he pinned you down by your throat.

You knew he was ruthless when he needed to be, but you weren't given a chance to see it with your own eyes up until now. He was far from gentle, holding your delicate neck with such ferocity it made your skin tingle. It was exhilarating.

"Like hell they just conveniently found the entrance," he spat, his voice low as he glared deep into your watering eyes. "You deliberately lured them in here, didn't you? And for what? Because you were bored?" He refused to slacken the hold around your throat, internally finding that he preferred how you looked when you couldn't breathe.

"You—cough—You're much the s-same, Tartaglia," you strained out, trying to furiously blink away your tears. "Don't pretend you don't crave vi-violence, too."

You could see him grit his teeth just before he tossed you to the floor, watching you cough and regain your breath with disdain in his eyes. "No. Don't compare me to a fucking psychopath like you. I don't kill kids just because I feel like it!"

"To-may-to, to-mah-to," you groaned, rubbing your sore skin. You could still feel his hand around your throat, his grip burned into your flesh in a way that sent a familiar heat through your groin. He took a second to examine your body before zeroing in on the growing bulge between your legs, disbelief written on his expression.

"There's no damn way," he muttered to himself as if trying to convince himself you weren't aroused by him strangling you. With a growl, he stepped forward and harshly pressed a foot on your crotch, merciless with the amount of pressure he used. He watched in disgust as your hips jerked in response, frowning deeply at the pained moan you let out. "You're seriously turned on?"

"If it wasn't obvious—" You were unceremoniously cut off by a swift kick to your jaw, accidentally biting down on your tongue. You tasted the metallic tang of your own blood that originated from your mouth and your nose, wiping it away quickly. Your cock only throbbed with an increased fervor in your pants that strained for release against the fabric.

"Shut the fuck up," he snarled, staring down at you for a few moments, deciding what to do with you now that he had this newfound information in his hands.

"What's gotten you so upset?" You teased him, obviously not taking your situation seriously. You felt a pleasurable chill run down your spine at the fierce look he gave you, sitting up a bit in anticipation when you saw his hand stray down toward his pants, roughly undoing them.

"You just can't shut your mouth, can you?" He hissed, leaning forward a bit to grab a handful of your hair. He yanked you closer, forcing you onto your knees as he pressed the tip of his flaccid cock against your waiting tongue. "Fine, then. I'll shut it for you."

You hummed at the salty taste of his skin, raising your hands up to hold onto the swell of his muscular thighs. He groaned quietly when you dragged your tongue along a prominent vein on the underside of the shaft, looking up at him through your lashes. You let out a garbled moan when he forced you all the way down to the base, seemingly satisfied with the way you gagged a little.

Your nose was buried within his pubic hair as your throat tightened and spasmed, feeling yourself beginning to drool as the thick strands of saliva seeped out of the corners of your lips. You could hardly breathe, but you loved it. You loved the way he tugged on your scalp, starting to move his hips back and forth. You tried to contribute as much as you could, but the way you could feel his cock hardening sent a pleasant ache through your jaw.

"Fucking hell... You're not fit to be a Harbinger," he spat, holding you still as he reached down to swipe a bit of the blood from your nose to messily wipe it on your cheek. You couldn't see what he was doing, but the patterned swipes made it clear what he was writing.

S, L, U, T.

The word sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. You could feel your cock twitch in your pants, leaking a profuse amount of precum that served to stain the fabric. You let out a moan and slipped a hand underneath your clothes, jerking yourself off shamelessly.

He let out a breathy scoff at the sight, but he couldn't help the way his dick throbbed when your throat squeezed around him. "You're too good at this," he groaned, gradually moving his hips faster until he was fucking your face. "You don't belong in the Fatui. You're better off at a goddamn whorehouse."

He relished in the sound of your chokes and gags, finding that he preferred this much more than your voice. He let out a heavy sigh and shut his eyes, tilting his head back in ecstasy as he lost himself in the sensations. He was unaware of how you shifted your hand lower, using your precum as a subpar replacement for lube to push two of your fingers in your hole. You weren't in any particular rush as you leisurely pumped them in and out of you, adding in the wet sounds to your strained moans and ragged breaths. You were brought back to your senses when you heard him bark out a mocking laugh, squinting up at him through the tears that accumulated along your lashes.

"You're fucking pathetic," he muttered lowly, almost to himself, but you knew it was directed at you. "Is this—shit—all it took? You just needed a dick shoved down your throat, huh? Should've known you were such a whore," he demeaned, and you could only whine in response. Suddenly, he leaned a bit forward to press the sole of his shoe onto your aching cock, watching intently at the way you choked in surprise. "Maybe the rest of us should get a turn with you? Turn you into our little fucktoy? Our good-for-nothing cumdump?"

A grin made its way onto his pale face, turned on with the amount of control he had over you. His left hand slid lower, maintaining a firm grip on the junction between the back of your head and neck as his other one moved up to pinch your nostrils shut. He thrust harder, faster, shuffling closer when you tried to tilt your head away. He ignored your muffled protests and focused solely on getting himself off, letting out satisfied groans that you weren't fully there to appreciate.

It wasn't until you could hear a high-pitched ringing did he finally cum, shooting his load down your throat without a care for whether or not you could properly swallow it. He held himself there for a moment longer before he pulled himself away with a harsh shove to your body. You coughed and panted hard, taking a moment to regain your composure before looking back up at him, eager for more.

"Still not satisfied?" He questioned rhetorically. You both knew you weren't done yet, not when you found out how he could get when you pushed his buttons just the right way. "Stupid question, huh?" He huffed a laugh through his nose before roughly kicking you onto your stomach, dropping to his knees not a moment later. He haphazardly tugged your pants and underwear down in one go, ignoring the pained hiss you made when you felt yourself sandwiching your drooling cock between your abdomen and the floor. He spread your ass apart to spit on your asshole, shoving a finger inside you for good measure before jerking himself off using some of his saliva.

"Tartaglia, please—hurry," you whined, looking over your shoulder to meet his gaze. It was satisfying to see you in such a pitiful state, but the sound of your voice, although hoarse and raw, annoyed him.

"Be quiet or I'll leave you here like this," he snapped, giving your asscheek a quick slap before positioning himself over your hole. He rubbed the tip of it against your skin for a moment before pushing himself inside, groaning loudly at the feeling of you clamping down on him so perfectly.

It fucking hurt; after all, you only used two meager fingers to prepare yourself, and even then, you hadn't done much. It burned like he was tearing you apart but in the best damn way. The pain of being stretched out so mercilessly only mixed in with the insatiable fire in your groin, shooting jolts of electricity up your spine so intense you nearly came on the spot.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Tartaglia, please, you're so—!" You cut yourself off with a moan when he suddenly slammed himself down all the way, ramming the head of his cock against your sensitive prostate.

"I said shut up!" He demanded, pressing his hips down to grind against you. He wasn't as deep as he could go in this position, but he still managed to fill you up just right. You groaned when he leaned down, pinning you to the ground with his body weight as an arm snaked around the front of your throat, pressing it against you firm enough to restrict some of your airflow.

Instinctively, you raised a hand to grab at his forearm, digging your nails into the scarred skin in a futile attempt to get him to ease up. You could hear every sound that left his lips, every labored breath that brushed the shell of your ear. It didn't take him long to start moving, pulling out until only the tip remained before slamming back into you mercilessly. You could feel every inch and vein with each drag of his cock, your body jolting alongside his harsh thrusts, grinding your dick up and down on the ground.

"God... you're so damn tight," he muttered, picking up the pace. A low moan escaped his throat when he pressed against your prostate just right, ignoring your fleeting struggle.

It was hard to breathe. You could feel him everywhere around you all at once, and it didn't help that he fucked you hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs. Your moans and whines were strained and hoarse, clawing at his arm, but you knew you didn't really want him off. Your body ached at his rough handling as wet slaps echoed through the abandoned facility, briefly wondering if anyone outside could hear, but you could hardly maintain your train of thought long enough for it to become a concern. He fucked you fast and rough, hips slamming against your ass hard enough to sting, but he didn't find it in himself to care.

"Tar-Tartaglia! Slow...—!" You tried to plead, beginning to find everything overwhelming when you cut yourself off with a squeal. He quickly shifted himself, leaning back to hold your throat with his hands as he pulled, forcing your back to arch uncomfortably.

"No," he replied, tilting his upper half over you just enough to spit in your gaping mouth. He felt you tighten in response as he relaxed his hold the slightest bit, feeling you swallow his saliva eagerly. "You wanted this. So you're gonna fucking take it."

The heat in your belly intensified to an unbearable degree, and with the way he practically filled up every crevice of your hole, you weren't sure you were going to last much longer. With one hand on your throat, he moved his other one down to spread one of your asscheeks to intently watch his cock move in and out of you. He could feel every twitch and shudder you made, and it satisfied him to know just how easy you were to break down despite your initial resistance.

"Fuck... I can feel you," he groaned, yanking your head back a bit to get you to look at him. "You're about to cum, huh?"

It was hard to find the right words to reply when he fucked every thought out of your head, but the panic in your eyes made it clear that you didn't want him to stop so suddenly. And although he wanted to see you beg like the whore you were, he needed to finish this quickly. He still had a job to do, after all.

"You're lucky I still need to collect some money," he growled, glaring at you with familiar disdain. "Otherwise I would've left you like this for hours."

With renewed vigor, he removed his hand from your throat to roughly push your face down by the back of your head, tugging your hips up to bury himself deeper inside your ass. You cried out in ecstasy as your eyes rolled back, making an attempt to withhold your orgasm when he wrapped his fingers around your throbbing cock, jerking you off in time with his punishing thrusts, but to no avail. Barely a moment later, you came with a loud moan, cumming so hard it left you lightheaded and dizzy.

He chased after his own release, giving you a few more rough thrusts before he stilled, burying himself as deep as he could go inside you. You could feel his thick cock throbbing as he filled you up with his cum, shuddering at the warmth before you slumped back down to the ground. He remained still for a moment longer, catching his breath while he watched you tremble. With a sigh, he pulled out, grimacing a little at the sight of his dick slick with fluids, but he tucked it back in his pants regardless.

"Get up. We have to hide the body and get to the chief before anyone finds out you killed his kid," he said impatiently, walking towards the hunter to inspect it.

"Just... Just bury them, or something," you suggested, taking a moment to calm down before pulling your pants up. Finding a reflective surface, you summoned a bit of your Cryo and melted it with your body heat to wipe away the crusted blood on your face.

"Eugh... I can feel your cum," you found the energy to complain, turning to face Childe with annoyance written on your face. The audacity.

"Shut up and let's go. We're already behind schedule after your bullshit." He scowled, picking up the body, already having decided what to do with it. At least it wasn't your problem anymore.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say," you said, quickly fixing your appearance. If it weren't for the slight limp in your gait, nobody would be able to tell he just fucked you within an inch of your life. Perks of being a Harbinger, you suppose.

cross-posted on ao3

[soamericn]

𝜗𝜚 𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐓𝐋𝐄

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ ‘ truth, dare, spin bottles you know how to ball, i know aristotle. ‘

𝜗𝜚… previous chapter - next chapter

𝜗𝜚… summary , ( f!verstappen!y/n x lando norris ) y/n is the younger sister of world champion max verstappen and an author known for her young adult romance novels despite never being in a relationship herself. lando norris is a formula one driver and is secretly an old friend and a fan of her books since 2020.

𝜗𝜚… faceclaim , brooke flecca

𝜗𝜚… triggers , none I don't think

𝜗𝜚… authors note , OKAY OKAY SO EXPLANATION AND APOLOGY TIME. it has been SO long since chapter 2 and im so sorry school got so much and I couldn't do it but im back and its summer and expect chapters and new fics more regularly!!!

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ masterlist

𝜗𝜚 ˖ ࣪₊˚ post austrian grand prix interview - lando norris

𝜗𝜚˖ ࣪₊˚ yourusername posted

liked by charlottessine, alexalbon, laurenasherauthor and 987,764 others

yourusername miami next!! p1 lando 🤨

view comments

user54 y/n supporting lando instead of her actual brother well never not be funny 😭🙏

user32 she’s one of us 🙌

maxverstappen but guess who’s still winning

bsfusername ugh marry me 😫

yourusername i thought we already were??

mclaren bestseller AND our lucky charm what else can she do?

yourusername I cry over taylor swift occasionally 😁

user87 how you have never had a boyfriend is the biggest mystery of the world 🤯

user23 NO ACTUALLY SHES GLOWING

landonorris my cheerleader 🫶

yourusername i thought you were mine? 🤭

maxverstappen you guys make me SICK

redbull and you’ll be in our garage in miami right..? RIGHT?!

𝜗𝜚˖ ࣪₊˚ text messages with lando 🫶

the tv projected the track flashing between cameras, she picked at her nail beds, turning them into a nice shade of red. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as if she was scared it would run away. 

 the last name norris shined at the top of the leaderboard as the laps went catching up to fifty-seven. he was gonna do it, her boy was gonna it. nobody was sure if it was the gap between max and him or the miami humidity making everyone sweat. 

she’d done a silent prayer in her head, she needed this for him. he deserved it more than anyone else. the papaya livery passed the line once again, the red bull following soon after. The gap was closing, now 6.3 seconds, the time imprinted in her mind. the visual on him up top was tattooed into her memories. 

fifty-five lap. 

he was doing what nobody thought he could, and she was there to see it. she wished she could see his face through the helmet, what would he look like? would he have that big grin on his face that brightened a room, a smirk that was filled with confidence she only dreamed of having or was he so focused that he stared blankly his sight only the black track  

he was on a mission. 

one he’d been wanting to complete the last five years. 

fifty-six lap.

she was embraced with a realization, a realization that her daydream was playing out right in front of her. no words nor thoughts could express how proud she already was of him. there was no doubt in her eyes he’d get here at some point.

she held her hands over her mouth in an anxious prayer position. she hadn’t noticed the camera panning to her, her eyes glued onto the tv. a small text flashed onto an orange background y/n l/n, author. it had missed some three words after author and she hated how much she wanted that.

fifty-seven lap. 

the lap that seemed to last a lifetime.

each turn felt hours long, though she knew deep down that the gap couldn't be closed in one lap. her boy had finally done it, and max couldn’t take it from him. despite this, worry built in her throat, scared that the thirty-three redbull would miraculously close the gap out of nowhere, stealing the one thing he had ever wanted.

the chequered flag waved, everyone rose from their seats, anticipating the long-awaited moment. familiar livery passes over the finish line and lando norris has won the miami grand prix. 

she screamed and cheered hugging the nearest engineer to her, breathing heavily as if she couldn’t believe what had just happened. the garage rushed the barriers waiting for their golden boy to jump out of his car. she wasn’t as close to the front as she had hoped, being squished by many papaya uniforms. She watched as he sprinted to them, to her, jumping into the crowd bearing the same colors on his race suit, hoisted onto the shoulders of his team.

she looked at him and saw the biggest smile she had ever seen break out on his face, matching her own. as soon as he was let down, they locked eyes, and it looked like he was about to cry. she closed the space between them, wrapping him in a hug.  

she stood on her tippy toes, wrapping her arms around his neck, his slung comfortably around her waist squeezing her as if he was scared she’d disappear. “I knew you could do it,” she whispered in his ear, her simple words only meant for him to hear.

a small “thank you” was all that was said in response.

before he pulled away, she placed a delicate kiss on his cheek, the pink gloss that coated her lips staining his face unable to be wiped away before he made his way to the cooldown room. she held her hands in front of her chest finally letting herself breath, a soft smile tattooed on her face as she watched him go. 

never in her life would she declare herself a religious individual–she’d never set a foot in a church before–but for the first time she felt as if her prayers were answered. 

she stayed still for a moment, watching as people rushed to get the best view, staring at the podium; the top step that would soon have landos name written all over it. she wanted to cherish this. she wanted to soak it up and let it stick to her memory like honey.

a posh british accent startled her out of her thoughts, “you should probably start walking over to the podium if you wanna see him properly.” she looked behind her and then looked up, it was george. his sharp features were unmistakable, no description strong enough to truly convey his presence. 

“yeah, you’re right.” she said, oddly nervous. she had talked to george plenty of times in the past, and she’d even dared to call them friends, maybe it was the adrenaline finally washing over her, or the fear that anything could push her out of this dream and she’d wake up in her floral sheets, alone.

he followed behind her as they made their way through the crowd, pushing people before they made it to the front looking up at the podium through the many fences. she pushed her dress down as the wind blew through the humid air, what felt like hours passing before charles took his spot on the third step.

the cheers for him were loud but faded quickly, they all knew who they were there to see waiting for him to take his spot on the top step, where he always belonged.

she hoped that once he stepped up it would feel like a place he didn’t even know he was homesick for. she wanted to feel as if he belonged there, because she knew he did. 

she watched as max stepped up through her tear-blurred vision. she didn’t like how much this meant to her. it was like she’d won, instead of lando. she hated how attached she had gotten, she hated the idea he didn’t feel the same. 

the mclaren driver walked up with the confidence of a man who had done this all before, but with the shock of achieving his childhood dream, it was hard not to be emotional.

lando walked up, clad in his orange suit, with curls she wished to run her hands through, pink kiss mark still on his cheek. she’d stained him as he had stained her body, mind, and soul.

the british national anthem had begun to ring, familiar in her ears, though she was only looking at him as he’d looked up to the sky. his face glistened in the sun, his eyes shut and at peace. 

it wasn’t until the trophies were being handed out that she had let the tears fall. they streamed down her rosy cheeks like rain droplets on a rose petal. 

he’d held the trophy in front of him in disbelief taking a deep breath, though she was the only one to notice the clear rise and fall of his chest. max was the first one to pop his champagne, immediately attacking lando with the bubbly liquid. lando smacked his bottle onto the ground with his iconic pop, a geyser of  alcohol spurting up into the air. 

a few moments after the podium sitters all attempted to spray one another, a now-drenched lando took a sip from the bottle before setting it down, finding her eyes in a sea of thousands. 

they always seemed to find each other, especially when she figured he’d be too preoccupied to look for someone as little as her. she didn’t realize how much she mattered to him. her lips turning upward into a small soft smile reserved for him.

he walked off the podium and she assumed he needed to do his post-race interviews, leaving her wondering what words he’d used to describe his joy.

Instead of leaving for the media pen he made his way to the crowd, heading directly for her, he had some interruptions from fans and drivers alike, but he continued towards her. 

“are you okay?” the concern in her voice was evident, she was his rock, his stability, the thing that held everything together when things got crazy. despite her having nothing together herself.

his calloused, rough-to-the-touch fingers contrasting her own as he held her lightly, like he was afraid she’d break under his touch.

“can we get away from all this?” he asked, it was unlike him, he loved the crowds and he loved the excitement they brought to the paddock but here he was softly holding her hand asking to be alone with her. it warmed her heart at the thought. the thought he wanted to spend a minute of his celebration with her.

they’d walked beside one another through the crowd making their way through. they ended up back in the mclaren garage in his driver's room. she’d been there before a couple times, mainly to play mario party despite her disdain for the game (mostly because she wasn't very good at it). this time, though, it felt more intimate. more meaningful.

“lando, are you alright?” she asked once more, her confusion and worry only growing, this was so unlike him pulling them away from a crowd, staying as silent as he was. his excitement from the win and meeting one of his many goals was still evident on his face but from the rocking on his feet and the biting of the inside of his cheek, she could tell he was nervous. 

they’d been quite close, and despite once making fun of lando for his height or lack thereof, she was now looking up at him, something he never let her forget.

he nodded, though he still was chewing on the inside of his cheek. “are you sure? you're not being yourself.” the tension in the room built as the silence between them grew, air heavy with unresolved feelings and questions of ‘what are we?’.

“I can't take it anymore.” was all lando said before he kissed her. one second his rough hand was caressing her cheek, and the next his lips were on hers. she’d gasped softly, before relaxing into it. this was the last thing she expected from him. they’d always been close, and even after all these years of not seeing one another, they had come back like nothing had changed.

she was still his good luck charm. 

 they melded together like pieces of a puzzle, moving in-sync. her arms around his neck, his hand on her cheek, his other arm still holding her gently by the waist. he smelt heavily of champagne, tyre rubber, and gasoline. and thought it wasn't the most appealing smell, it was so him and she couldn’t get enough of it.

it hadn’t been her first kiss, but it might’ve been the only one that ever mattered. she wrote in kiss scenes over and over again, never finding the right words when it came time to type them out on the page. thinking back, none of them could have ever compared to the shock and contentness she was feeling.

they pulled away from each other, his lips shining with remnants of her lip gloss, he let both hands rest on her waist, holding her close. he sported a grin on his face, “guess i’m going through my goal to-do list today.”

“ i was on your to-do list?” she asked, tilting her head with a furrowed brow. he began to giggle at the implication of the sentence, her mouth slightly agape as she realized what she had said as well. “you’re a child.” her exasperation was clear as day, though it didn’t stopped him from laughing..

They stilled for a moment before bursting into laughter, both elated with the outcome of the day “yes, you’re on my to-do list.” 

she lightly shoved him, though she remained in his arms, not wanting to move, afraid if she did she’d never be able to go back. “shut up.” she responded playfully resting her head on his chest, closing her eyes as she let out a soft laugh of joy, finally where she wanted to be. 

𝜗𝜚… tags , @whitcferrari @c-losur3 @lclitaa @forurforeverwinter @stinkyjax @littlexscarletxwitch @spideybv28 @ijustgomessitupx @sweetrclief @aadu2173 @chezmardybum

[hennyjwrites]

Rio trapping his wife again

Y’all already had 5 kids. All boys. You gave up a long time ago on having a little girl but Rio hadn’t. Your youngest was almost a year old and for some reason Rio thought that gave him the green light to have another.

“Christopher im gonna punch you if you don’t leave me alone.” You mumbled as he kissed on your neck. He had told you earlier that night. that he wanted to try for another baby. Your sons were spending the night with his grandma upon her request and that gave Rio the perfect opportunity.

“Gimme just one more.” He begged, sucking slightly on your sweet spot.

You tried to resist him, you really did. But a few more begs, traveling fingers, and a few more kisses, ended up with you fucking him. All night.

He was so good that by the end of the night, he had you begging for him to give you another baby.

That would end up being his routine. After you gave him the green light, He made sure to cum in at least once a day, to ensure he would get his daddy’s girl

A few months later, after getting sick every morning for over a week, and become nauseous to every smell, you went to the doctor. Even though you recognized the symptoms, surprise surprise! Your pregnant.

Of course Rio took care of you your entire pregnancy. Held your hair if you sick, massaged your feet, talked to the baby everyday. Only it wasn’t just him, it was all your sons too. They cared for you and their youngest sibling just like Rio did.

Rio felt this pregnancy was different. He just knew that you were having a baby girl. And boy was he right and wrong at the same time.

By the time you were 5 months you were as large as a house. You brought it up at your doctors appointment and weren’t you surprised.

“There’s baby number 1.” The doctor said showing you where the first baby sat. “And there’s baby number 2.” She moved the mouse over a little bit more. “And then there’s baby number 3!”

Both yours and Rios mouths dropped when she announced you were having triplets. The doctor asked did you want to know the genders and you and Rio both said yes.

“It seems that your having 3 identical girls!” Congratulations mom and dad!” The doctor cheered before giving you some privacy.

Rio stood and gave you the biggest hug and kiss in the world, with his eyes filled with tears. “You heard that beautiful? Three little girls.” He held you for what seemed like eternity in joy.

When you got home and announced it to your sons, the amount of joy that was through the house could blow the roof off. All throughout your pregnancy they all helped you pick out clothes, shoes, and toys all for their little sisters

3 months later and you went into early labor. Your labor lasted for 32 hours, with you screaming, crying, and even staying calm at some point. When you were finally able to push it took around 30 minutes to get each baby out.

Rio stood next to the bed holding his first daughter, on his right and his second daughter in his left. You held your third daughter from the bed. They looked more like you than him. They had the perfect shade of brown with your beautiful eyes, but they took his nose. Each girl was born with a head full of hair.

He couldn’t wait until they started to develop into their own person. He wanted to see would they take after you or him. It was his favorite parts of watching his babies grow up.

“Thank you.” Rio whispered. “You gave me 3 more beautiful kids. I love you more than you’ll ever know baby.” He leaned down and kissed your lips. When he pulled back he bit his lip. “2 more and we’re done.” He laughed, hoping you would agree.

You scoffed, before looking at your babies. “These 3 are going to run you down, not even including the other 5. your not gonna want anymore.”

You both laughed and waited for your sons to come and meet their new baby sisters.

[dr-spectre]

honestly the only thing i wish now since team past won is that we don't get a great turf war game.

A more past based aesthetic sounds inherently cooler for a game no matter what people say.

I think i was being a little too harsh and mean towards Team Past and I was riding the high of the Grand Fest....

At the end of the day, what makes Splatoon's world so special is that it's world follows our time, a year passes in our world, a year passes over there. Stopping the timeline would be a bad idea and I think the developers know better. I have faith in them.

I dont think we're gonna get a great turf war game because Splatoon 4 was most likely already in pre-production before the Grand Fest, and they are just choosing what aesthetic to wrap the game in. They probably have a bunch of storylines planned out too and now they can get to work on the next game. That's just how game development works, especially Nintendo ones where gameplay is first and story is second.

The results of the final Splatfest of each game do make an impact but not THAT big of an impact. Callie vs. Marie decided who was gonna play the villain role in the next hero mode as they already placed down the set up for that story line in the songs Tide Goes Out and Bomb Rush Blush, as well as the Splatfest dialogue creating tension between the two.

Marie won so the developers gave Callie some angst, and she strolled down to Octo Canyon, said to good ol' Octavio "Hey I wanna be evil and stuff." And Octavio was like, "aight sick yo. But you gotta wear these hypnotic shades first tho." And Callie was like "COOL! :D"

Chaos vs. Order impacted what the next game was gonna look like aesthetic wise, and even then it's not as extreme as a lot of people envisioned. Splatsville is Inkopolis but basically... a little bit more chaotic and clearly not as wealthy of a city as Inkopolis. Deep Cut's aesthetics and personality were based on the theme of chaos, we would have probably gotten a three person Idol group regardless but what team won in Splatoon 2 impacted what they were gonna look like. The rest of Splatoon 3 is just regular ol' Splatoon. It's not a crazy Mad Max chaotic land like what some were expecting and that Inkopolis was gonna be up in smoke.

And, of course, the losing team was yet again the central theme of the villain, this time, the idea of Order itself and even then its different from how Callie vs. Marie played out. Marina becomes Marina Agitando at the start of the story to get it out of the way and to subvert expectations. And then the real villain, Overlorder takes centre stage.

I dont think we're gonna see the whole "losing team becomes evil" thing because its a tired old trope and it created so much just.... bullshit in the community, I'm gonna be so real. Like you know this already and my stances on Hypno Callie and what people say about her but... I digress!!

I wanna end off my rambles by saying that the best part of Team Past winning, is that Callie and Marie got to win TOGETHER! It feels like the perfect cap to their arcs and it feels... good.... you know? It just, makes me happy that these two girls are just finally happy and are on each other's wavelengths so well. They even show that in Blushing Tide but ive already gushed about that song.

I feel like thematically Team Past/Squid Sisters winning feels.... perfect? It feels... right? I guess? Starting off in darkness and hate, fighting each other, coming together after being reminded of the good times they've had, healing their broken bond, finally winning... as a team...

I think im taking the loss pretty well LMAO! I mean I was on the winning team of Chaos vs. Order so I'm perfectly fine with coming in second place.

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Then & Now (M, cold)

Hiii, hope you like A LOT of hurt followed by 2-3 sentences of comfort lmao. This is Greyson fic - Grey is sick on a day he and Reed are supposed to have a date, and he's sure Reed is going to be angry with him because Trauma(TM). It's told in a flashback sort of format which I really enjoyed because I love writing blurbs of colds at different times in life lol. I hope you guys like it, please let me know what ya think, good, bad, or otherwise :)

CW: Male snz, cold, pneumonia mention, coughing, contagion mention, lots and lots of whump lmao. A little over 4K words under the cut.

Then & Now

Now

“Morning, Chef.”

“Huh-! HhITSZHH-ue!”

Elijah turned towards Greyson, who was doubled over into his hoodie sleeve, and gave him a sympathetic grimace. “Cooks finally pulled you under, hmm?”

“Ugh, like way fuckin’ under,” Greyson muttered, rubbing his eye and sucking in through his nose. “I feel like ass.”

“Sorry, dude,” Elijah said, tossing his counterpart a box of tissues. “Sucks.”

Greyson caught the box and pulled out a few just in time. “HITSZHZH-uhh!” This one, he managed to catch in the handful of tissues. He wiped his nose and shrugged. “Yeah,” he said, tossing the used tissues. “Mbostly because I was supposed to have a date tonight.”

Elijah smirked at his friend, who was pushing past the GM into their shared office. The two of them sat in unison. “Do you guys still call them dates? You’ve been official for, like, six months.”

“It’s our six-month anniversary,” Greyson said, his voice flattened by congestion. “We were going to do EMP.”

“Awww, now I’m depressed,” Elijah said. “Also, why didn’t you tell me earlier you were going to Eleven Madison? I still know people there.”

“So does Reed,” Greyson said, massaging his temple. “That’s why we were goigg. Fuck, mby fuckin’ head is pounding. Do we have any -?”

Elijah placed the ibuprofen in front of the chef before he could ask, along with a bottle of cough syrup and a decongestant. “You know we have it all,” he said, pushing an old cup of water across the desk for Greyson to swallow his arsenal of pills. “And fair enough. Well that fuckin’ sucks, dude, I’m sorry. Hey, at least you can leave early, right? Matt’s closing?”

“Yeah,” Greyson said, unwrapping a cough drop and popping it in his mouth. “I’ll head out once the rush is over. I still have to text Reee – hh...hhNTSHH-ue! HGTSHH-uhh!” Greyson doubled over, sneezed into his arm, and groaned. “I’mb gonna kill the guys when they get in,” he said, mostly to himself.

“Don’t do that,” Elijah said, placing a hand on Greyson’s shoulder on his way out of the office. “Then you’ll have to stay all night.”

Greyson huffed out a laugh and pulled out his phone. He clicked on his conversation with Reed, sighing. He did not want to have this conversation.

Greyson

9:31AM

hey babe. gonna have to cancel tonight, the cooks infected me w their plague :( im rly sorry.

The chef set his phone on the desk, prepared to either be ghosted or gaslit – two of Collin’s favorite pastimes whenever Greyson had had to cancel their plans during their relationship – and was shocked when the phone buzzed with a text almost immediately. He was almost afraid to look at his boyfriend’s response.

Reed

9:32AM

Oh, baby don’t be sorry!! what time are you off? I’ll pick you up and take you home :) we can do a sick day little date night instead!

Greyson stared at the phone, stunned. He couldn’t help it; he read the message again, then out loud said, “What the fuck?”

Then – Ten Years Ago

“Chef?”

The Executive Chef looked up from his paperwork at Greyson and sighed. “What is it, Abbott?”

“I, um – hh! HTSHH-uh! HGXTSH-ue! Snf. Umb, I just wanted to see if it was okay if I… left a little early today?” Greyson asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His chef raised his eyebrows and put his clipboard down. Oh, no, Greyson thought.

“Leave...early? And leave your clean up and prep to whom, exactly? Me?” The Executive Chef huffed out a laugh. “That’s rich, Abbott. Why the fuck would you need to leave early?”

“I…” Greyson started, but his voice gave out on the single syllable. He attempted to clear his throat. “I just… I really feel like shit? I was hoping I could, like… sleep it off, I guess. I mbean, I wouldn’t want to get anyone else sigck.” Greyson felt a cough bubbling to the surface; he tried to quell it, to no avail. The younger man collapsed into a coughing fit that felt like it lasted a lifetime.

The Chef remained unmoved. “My guys,” he said, placing a hand on his chest as Greyson attempted to compose himself, “don’t get sick, Abbott. And if they do, I don’t fucking hear about it. Understand? Because I really don’t give a shit. If you’re here, you’re here. If you decide to leave early,” he shrugged, uncaring, “then you leave for good. And Abbott, if you try to get a job after walking out of my kitchen, I promise you I will make it impossible. I know you’ve only been here a couple months, but here’s what you need to learn: put your head down and do your fucking job, and you can work anywhere in the world after this. Be a whiny piece of shit who tries to walk out on his shift, and you’ll be working at McDonald’s for the rest of you life. Got it?”

Greyson, too shocked to rebut, just bobbed his head up and down.

“Let me hear you say it,” the Chef said. Greyson cleared his throat.

“Yes, Chef,” he said. The Chef nodded.

“Now get the fuck out of my office.”

Now

“Elijah. Look at this text.”

The GM looked up slowly from the iPad where he was going over reservations for the evening. “...Why?” he asked, taking the phone from Greyson’s hand.

“Just look. Tell mbe that’s ndot weird,” Greyson said, crossing his arms over his chest. Elijah looked down, confused, and read the text. He pinched his eyebrows together just a little, and read it again. “See? Isn’t that weird?”

“Greyson…” Elijah said, handing the phone back. “That’s not weird.”

“Seriously?” Greyson asked, reading the text yet again. “It’s bizarre. He’s ndot even a little mad? C’mon. That’s weird.”

“He’s being sweet,” Elijah explained, slowly, as though he were talking to a toddler. “Did you want him to be mad? Because that’s bizarre.”

“Ndo I don’t want him to be mad. I jus – HTSZHH-ue! HRRSHH!” Greyson wrenched to the side to sneeze, which sent him into a fit of hacking coughs. “I just figured he’d want to, like, yell at mbe or something. For canceling,” Greyson finished, his voice strained against another cough. Elijah didn’t respond, not at first, and instead pressed a hand onto the chef’s forehead.

“I think you’re sicker than we thought, because you’re acting fucking delusional,” he said as Greyson slapped his hand away. “Greyson, normal people don’t yell at each other for getting sick, or having to cancel a plan. That’s, like, really twisted.”

Greyson rolled his eyes. “It’s ndot twisted, Lij you fuckin’ drama queen,” he said, then held up a finger. “Onesec – hh! Hh...hnn.” Greyson sniffled, a let out a little irritated cough. “Lost it.”

“Go back to the kitchen,” Elijah said, pointing towards the swinging doors. “Sit down. Rest. Let your medicine kick in. I don’t want people seeing this -” he gestured to Greyson, as if to allude to his entire being – “when they walk past the restaurant. Alright? Text your boyfriend something nice. Not something unhinged.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Greyson muttered, turning toward the kitchen, his phone still open to the conversation with Reed. He turned towards Elijah again before pushing through the kitchen doors. “I still say that this is the unhinged thing.”

“Go to therapy, Greyson,” Elijah said, not looking up from the iPad. Greyson rolled his eyes, pushed into the kitchen, and regarded his phone once again.

Greyson

10:07AM

thanks, babe. it’s ok, I can take care of myself. it wont be a long day, ill just grab some nyquil omw home and sleep it off. ill reschedule our rezo too, don’t worry about that. im really sorry again for canceling. if I could taste the food id still go lol.

Figuring that sounded at least relatively normal, Greyson hit send. He sat down at his desk once again and placed his head in his hands. No way he’s not pissed, Greyson thought, and he really believed it. In all his years of dating, he’d never met anyone who would respond that way; they’d at least have a snippy remark about the last-minute nature of the cancellation.

Greyson’s phone pinged once again, and he couldn’t help but grab it right away to assess the damage.

Reed

10:08AM

honey, please don’t apologize, seriously. youre sick, it happens, its no biggie :) I already moved the reservation to next week but if we need to ill move it again. james at emp said to tell you feel better btw.

Greyson blinked, dumbstruck. He started typing without thinking.

Greyson

10:10AM

you REALLY arent mad? seriously?

Reed

10:10AM

im really not mad. who gets mad at someone for being sick…? is someone at work mad at you? am I supposed to be mad..? lol

Greyson

10:11AM

I mean its a last minute cancellation. id understand if u were mad.

Reed

10:11AM

welllll….im not. is that ok? haha

Reed

10:15AM

grey…? you believe me, right?

Reed

10:21AM

greyson..?

Then – Seven Years Ago

He was moving through molasses.

Greyson placed a sluggish hand to his own forehead – you can’t check yourself for a fever, dumbass – and blinked painfully. He’d made it to work, he’d made it through the day, and he’d made it back home, against all odds. Now, he was stuck on his couch, unable to even crawl to the bathroom for a thermometer.

It had all compounded on him, was his guess. The endless fourteen hour days for the better part of two years at his thankless sous chef job. The shitty Chicago-suburbs apartment with no heat, where he froze for the few hours a week he slept. The near-constant drinking. Sure, he was only twenty-five, but what was it they said about this industry? It ages you in dog years. Yeah, that was it.

“Hh-! Hh...ITSZHH-ue! HTSHHH-ue!” Greyson sneezed helplessly into the blanket he’d wrapped around himself, and groaned. This was not what he’d imagined when he moved here from Minnesota. He’d thought it would be glamorous, working as a sous chef at a high-end hotel in a big city. He thought he’d have friends, or a girlfriend, or something. Instead, he was trapped on his couch, benched by a sinus infection and seasonal depression that seemed to last the whole year round. Fuck this, Greyson thought. He couldn’t get off the couch, but he could reach his phone; Greyson pulled up Indeed and changed his search parameters.

Actively searching for work. Location: Any.

Now

“Um… Chef? What’s, uh… what’s going on?”

Greyson paused for a moment, a crate of spoiled food held on his shoulder. He turned towards Matt, keen to answer, but instead held the crate tighter and wrenched to the side. “HRTTSHH-uh!”

“Bless you,” Matt said, an automatic reaction. Greyson nodded, turned towards the dumpster, and dumped the food in before beginning the cycle anew: pick up crate. Turn to sneeze. Dump old food. Matt wasn’t sure if he should help his boss, or go inside for backup.

He chose the former, picking a crate filled to the brim with rotten tomatoes off the ground and hoisting it into the trash. “You gonna tell me what’s up?” he asked as the two of them continued gathering and tossing.

Greyson sighed, pulled a hand down his face, and shook his head. “I thingk Reed and I are over,” he said, voice soft and throaty. Matt’s eyebrows shot up.

“What? Seriously? What did you do?” Matt asked, prompting a stuffy laugh from his boss.

“I just don’t thingk it’s going to work,” Greyson said, shrugging. “I… I don’t want to, like, play gambes. I can’t do that again, ndot after Collin.”

“Chef,” Matt said as he gathered and tossed the last milk crate, “what are you talking about? Reed is, like, the most straight-shooting guy I’ve ever met. How is he playing games?”

Greyson, left without anything to occupy his hands, just shrugged and pulled out his phone. He handed it to Matt without explanation, and the sous quickly read through the text conversation Greyson and Reed had going. Matt furrowed his brow.

“I don’t get it,” he said, handing the phone back. “He wants to take care of you, what’s the problem with that?”

“He doesn’t want to take care of me, he wants to have the upper hand,” Greyson explained, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and sitting on the step just outside the back door. “Want one?”

“Sure,” Matt said, sitting beside his boss. “I mean, you shouldn’t be smoking if you’re -”

“HTSHH! Hh-! ITZSHH-ue!” Greyson turned into his elbow, taking a long moment to gather himself before handing Matt his cigarette.

“-sick,” Matt finished. The older man shrugged, and Matt plucked the lighter out of Greyson’s hand to light both of them up, not daring to push his boss any closer to the edge. For a moment, they smoked in silence, only Greyson’s sniffles and coughs interrupting the quiet.

“Boss,” Matt said, finally, “I think you need to talk to Reed.”

“I did,” Greyson said, stubbing out his cigarette. “You saw.”

“No, I mean actually talk to him,” Matt said. The two of them stood, looking at each other – a face-off without the malice. Matt continued. “Not ignore his texts and clean out the walk-in.”

Greyson scoffed. “Matt, just because you have sombe fairy-tale love story doesn’t mbean everyone else does, too. Okay? If it’s over between me and Reed, it’s fine. I’mb better off alone, anywaa – hh! Hh… Hhhii-!” Greyson stood with his elbow poised at his face, stuck in pre-sneeze agony for what seemed like an eternity. While he was incapacitated, Matt took his phone and typed out a message that his boss couldn’t see. Finally, Greyson lowered his arm and sucked in, fruitlessly, through his nose. “The fugck are you doigg?” he asked, snatching his phone back from his sous.

“If you’re not going to talk to Reed,” Matt shrugged, unapologetic, “I will.”

Greyson looked down at his phone, which buzzed twice in his hand. Reed’s face popped up on the screen. Call from: reed <3

Then – Three Years Ago

“HTSHH! Huh! ETZSHH-ue! HRTTSHH-ue!”

“Bless, bless, bless you. Allergies?” Collin asked, not looking up from his phone. Greyson sniffled in vain, and coughed painfully.

“Ndot exactly,” he croaked from the doorway to Collin’s living room. “Baby, do you thingk you could drive mbe to urdent care, actually?”

Collin looked up and slowly raised an eyebrow. “For what?” he asked, obviously annoyed. Greyson swallowed as best he could and placed a hand on his throat.

“I thingk… I mbight have strep. Or bronchitis, or sombething. I, uh… I’ve had a fever for like. A week.” Greyson had to stop to close his eyes and grab onto the door frame, a sordid attempt to keep from hitting the floor like a rotten sack of potatoes. Collin rolled his eyes.

“You’re such a drama queen. You seemed fine when you came over last night.”

“You were asleep whend I came over,” Greyson said, his eyes still closed. “Did you ndot notice that I haven’t been over in like five days?”

Collin shrugged. “I mean, yeah, but I figured you were busy with work. You’re always busy with work,” he said, the venom in his voice making clear that he wanted to fight.

Greyson, physically incapable of fighting at that moment, just slid slowly to the ground and nodded. “Yeah. You’re right,” he said. “Ndow I’m paying the price. Please, baby. Can you please just take me? I… I really don’t feel well.”

It was pathetic. He knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself; he was fairly sure he was moments from passing out. Collin turned and made himself comfier on the couch.

“I’ll call you an uber,” he said, pressing some buttons on his phone. “You barely make time for me, and now you’re asking me to be your chauffeur? Please, Greyson.” He showed his ailing boyfriend the phone. “He’ll be out front in five minutes. Better make your way down.”

“Okay,” Greyson said, pulling himself slowly to his feet. “Thangk you.”

Collin didn’t say a word as Greyson let himself out of the apartment. He made it downstairs, and into the uber, and into the waiting room at urgent care. He made it out by himself, too, with a laundry list of prognoses – strep, sinus infection, walking pneumonia – and a handful of prescriptions. When he texted Collin later to fill him in, his boyfriend didn’t text back.

Greyson fell asleep on his shower floor and awoke to freezing water pounding on him, and a courier pounding on his door. When he toweled off and answered it, chicken soup from the local bodega and a note that read feel better -c sat at his feet. Greyson breathed a sigh of relief; at least he had been forgiven.

Now

Reed had dated plenty of men is his thirty-five years of life, and had found that there were two general categories when it came to sick men: there was the Baby, and there was the Don’t Look at Me.

Greyson though, an enigma since the moment they met, seemed to fall into a third category, a category that was, to Reed, yet undiscovered: the You Hate Me.

Reed was good with the first two categories; the Don’t Look at Me, you left medicine outside their room and texted them funny memes. The Baby, you laid in bed with them and spoon-fed them soup. Easy. Understandable. Truthfully, this was one of his favorite things about men: they were easy to crack. He figured Greyson would likely fall into the Baby category, which was fine by him – there was nothing he’d like more than to look after an ailing Greyson, to be honest. This third category he seemed to embody, though, was not something Reed knew what to do with.

“He didn’t answer when I called him,” Reed said into the phone receiver. “I just want to know what’s going on, I mean, did I say something wrong?”

On the other end of the line, Elijah sighed. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. This is just… it’s just Greyson being Greyson.”

Reed wasn’t about to take this lying down. “Hey, are you guys super busy tonight? I mean, I don’t want to be that boyfriend, but, like, can I come get him? We really need to talk, and if what Matt said is true he probably shouldn’t be, like, working anyway, right?”

While Elijah paused, Reed pulled the phone away from his ear and once again re-read the text Matt had sent from Greyson’s phone: hey reed, it’s matt. grey is sick as hell, so DO NOT take any of the crazy weird shit he says seriously, k? his temperature needs to lower by like 5 degrees before you do this, but u guys need to actually talk. he’s being stupid.

“Please,” Reed heard Elijah’s tinny voice on the other end and put the phone back to his ear. “Please, come and collect him. I’m begging.”

Reed stood from the couch and grabbed his keys. “Give me twenty minutes. I’m on my way.”

Then – Two Years Ago

“Heyyy, baby, cand I buy you a dringk?”

The girl leaned back, her face marked by disgust. “No, thanks. Save your money and get yourself some NyQuil,” she said, disappearing into the crowd. Greyson huffed out a sigh and coughed into his hand – a long, crackling sound that made the other bar patrons inch their chairs away.

“She’s right, you know,” the bartender – Skip, Greyson had learned his name was a few weeks back when he had started coming in every night – said, filling Greyson’s shot glass yet again. “You need to go home.”

“And yet you pour mbe another drink,” Greyson said, knocking back the shot. “The duality of mban. NGTXSH! HTSHH! Huh-! HRRSHH-ue!” Greyson covered his mouth lazily with one hand, wiped it on his pants, hand held the glass up to indicate ‘another’.

“Bless you,” Skip said, not pouring the shot. “Greyson, seriously: go home. You sound fucking awful.”

“Are you cutting mbe off?” Greyson asked, his rheumy eyes meeting Skip’s over the bartop. “Because unless you are, I’mb staying.” He coughed again, into his elbow; the cough was quickly becoming a problem. He’d had a cold two weeks ago; the symptoms had been mild, but the cough had hung around. When he caught whatever-the-fuck this was two days ago, the cough had turned from an annoyance to a pressing issue; he should go home. He should go to the doctor, he should take a day off, he should, he should, he should.

But he wouldn’t. He would stay, and he would drink until he was kicked out, then he’d pass out on the train and not make it home to sleep. He’d go to work at seven AM and stay until midnight and do it all again.

“I’m not kicking you out,” Skip sighed. “I’m just saying… you should take care of yourself.”

Greyson blinked slowly. He could feel his lungs, heavy with fluid, gearing up to cough again; his head, pounding in spite or because of the alcohol; his heart crushed into a million, Collin-sized pieces. Take care of yourself. It felt impossible, when you’d never been shown how.

“This is mbe taking care of myself,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll have another.”

Now

Greyson rested his head on a case of lettuce in the corner of the walk-in. He knew he should be continuing his madness of cleaning, but he’d accidentally sat down on his fifth trip into the refrigerator, and now he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get up again.

Fucking Reed, Greyson thought as he allowed the cold salad box to sate the fever he had burning in his brain. Why can’t he just be up front with me? If you’re mad just say it, don’t fucking torture me.

Perhaps deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous; Matt and Elijah were most likely correct. The simplest answer – that Reed truly was just a good guy – was probably the right one. But he just couldn’t get out of his mind all the times he’d reached out, needed help and asked for it, and been shot down. He certainly couldn’t allow himself to believe that the person he was dating was truly good; he knew he’d never deserve that.

“Greyson?”

Speaking of Reed, that sounded a lot like him – was Greyson hearing things? Had he, in his fever-addled state, conjured a hallucination of his boyfriend to have a fight with? Bizarre, Grey, he thought to himself. That’s really fucking bizarre.

“Grey? Elijah said you were in here but I don’t – oh!”

Either this was a really crazy hallucination, or that really was Reed standing over him, in the walk-in. Greyson blinked hard, then blinked again, and suddenly Reed was on the ground next to him.

“Babe...it’s really cold in here. Do you think we can, um, leave?”

Greyson furrowed his eyebrows together. “Leave… and go where?” he asked, his voice cracking. “I have to… work. What are you doigg heeee...HRTSHH-ue! Huh -! HTSHH! NTSHH! IGXTSH!” Greyson attempted to stifle over and over, until Reed gently took his hand and pulled it away from his face.

“That has to hurt,” Reed said, his voice quiet and calm. “You can just… sneeze, you know. Like, regular.”

“Tryigg ndot to get you,” Greyson croaked, his eyes glazing over once again. “Youbettermov – HRRETSZCHH-ue! ITSZZHH-ue! Fuck – NGTSHHZ-ue!” Greyson sneezed into his lap, then coughed until his lungs felt sore. Reed didn’t move; he came closer and rubbed Greyson’s back.

“Bless you, baby,” Reed said, eventually.

“Thangks. Sorry,” Greyson murmured, pushing his hair out of his face and turning to look at Reed. “Why are you here?” he asked, levity out the window.

Reed let out a little laugh. “Umm, why do you think?” he asked. “You’ve been ignoring me since this morning. I got worried, since Matt said you were super sick – no lie detected, by the way, you sound truly awful –”

“Sorry,” Greyson said again, wiping under his nose. “I kndow, it’s gross.”

“Please, Grey,” Reed said, taking both sides of his boyfriend’s face in his hands and looking him in the eye. “Please. Stop apologizing. It’s okay to be sick. I don’t understand why you think I’m angry at you. I’m not.”

Greyson swallowed, painfully, and gave a little nod. “Okay,” he said, finally.

“Okay,” Reed repeated. “Anyway. I called Elijah. He said to come and collect you.”

At this, Greyson couldn’t help but cough out a laugh. “Collect mbe?” he asked. Reed smiled a little.

“Yeah,” he said. “His words, not mine.”

They both laughed, softly at first, then ramping up to near-hysteria. They only stopped when Greyson started coughing again and couldn’t seem to stop.

“Let’s go get you some water,” Reed said, helping his boyfriend to his shaky feet. Greyson allowed himself to be pulled out of the walk-in, and given a bottle of water that was sitting on his prep station. Greyson drank until the fit subsided, then regarded Reed once again.

“So… you really aren’t mbad?” he asked, rubbing his goosebumped arms up and down. Reed shook his head and shrugged off his windbreaker. He draped it over Greyson’s shoulders.

“I’m really not mad,” he insisted. Greyson nodded, seemingly satiated. Reed sighed through his nose and slipped his arms around the chef.

“Life’s done a number on you, huh?” he asked, quietly enough that it could’ve just been to himself. Greyson huffed out a sad little laugh.

“Like you wouldn’t believe, baby,” he murmured, pressing his hot head into Reed’s hair. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

[viathecloset]

Taehyung and jungkook's relationship is overlooked by 90% of the fandom solely because they are so controlled by the narrative of the fandom/company that they cannot quite accept that anything outside is even a remote possibility. Ive been more of a quiet observer for years now [my sister's an army since 2015] and I've seen the boys, moreover I know how marketing and kpop works. It's quite evident if u observe close enough of the pattern on how this group of seven guys who genuinely love music is marketed you would understand to what extent you're being brainwashed. Im not talking about this like a conspiracy theorist. It's quite simple and right infront of you. Yall refuse to accept it that's all.

1. There are a certain set of stories that are made to be told by them, over and over again. Even if it disturbs them or they are bored. E.g: 2018 disbandment story, vmin dumpling incident, jikook rain fight/tokyo trip, mind you there are many things that happend between people who lived together for 10+ yrs but if it cuts the flow of events you are made to believe happened you aren't gonna hear from it, ever.

2. Like stories there are dynamics that each pair is supposed to portray Taegi as annoying/annoyed duo, taejin/jikook as flirty HS boyfriends, namseok/taekook the awkward old friends and no matter how much the relationships change or evolve you won't see it cuz again, it won't FIT the narrative that has already been shown.

3. Like relationships there are characteristics that thankfully some members chose to break out of during their solo era: hoseok always being sunshine and loud ( he's quite serious and very dedicated infact ), jungkook being that muscle dude who only knows how to follow his Hyungs ( he's very independent and has a lot of targets he wants to achieve individually, he's very thoughtful and organized) and Taehyung being WEIRD and weak ( he's extremely intelligent and super strong he's strategic and disciplined)

4. This brings us to the whole Taekook narrative, the fact that they've been seen so much during solo era yet people had the audacity to still call them distant and awkward solely cuz it wasn't via company but through Taehyung's ig or jungkook mentioning him in interviews etc. I think it's needless to say they aren't comfortable being touchy and showy on camera for content, hell if they were to shoot everytime Taehyung and jungkook hangout there would he enough CONTENT till 2067. They're supportive of eo and have a very big shared friend circle, when jungkook went missing for almost 2 months we got to know Taehyung was the one he was with.

5. The thing is everyone [ including my own sister ] thinks that Taehyung is being desperate or such whenever he mentions Taehyung cuz a. Yall have actually led jokers run so fucking rampant that everytime the man mentions him actually doing something you're ready to throw him under the bus and call him a liar or such. b. Im not saying jungkook isn't close to anyone else but when he isn't working or shooting content and just wants to be himself the one you saw him most was around Taehyung and yes it matters. In the name of hating shippers yall have not only dissed the quite frankly PRIVATE bond they seem to share but went as far as dissing Taehyung himself cuz of the extreme level of manipulation yall are under.

Ik imma find armys [jikookers ]under this sooner or later calling me names but to be honest I'm sick and tired of yall dissing very real people and their very real human relationships solely based off the content yall are made to believe is 100% candid. Go touch grass, get friends, go date, don't obsess over them for a while then come back and try seeing it from a neutral perspective.

[myconidwitch]

EVERYONE, PLEASE HELP ME CONSTRUCT THE NOELLE RAIL LINE OVER HERE:

i need it so that i have safer ways of transporting my soup, and can also transport myself outside of my region (which, for those of you who don't know, has a spell on it which forbids anybody outside of it to know important things about it like location and stuff, which is a problem because normally the only way to get in is teleportation, but i can't do that if i don't know where the destination of the teleportation is located)

myconid witch wizardblr lore:

noelle merianda was the name of a human girl in a town called fand'quer. she had a father whom she loved deeply. one day, her father fell extremely ill. upon finding out about this, noelle immediately tried to find a way to cure him of his illness. she tried medication after medication, but nothing worked. she became so desperate, that she started learning witchcraft, specifically magic soup, in order to heal him. she eventually found a recipe that would work, and attempted to make it. before noelle could finish this stew, her mother found out about it, and was not very pleased. noelle's town has a bit of a history with witches, and upon finding out her daughter was practicing witchcraft, her mother threw noelle out of the house, against the father's wishes. the only thing she was allowed to bring with her was the large pot she used to attempt to make the soup. noelle had to run into the bog near her village, unless she wanted to be executed for witchcraft. she found the tower of a long dead wizard, where she sought refuge. noelle began studying wizardry in that tower, so that she could protect herself against whoever was inside that bog. after spending about 10 years in that tower, eldritch fungi began enveloping her body, slowly replacing it with eldritch flesh. noelle made a decision to never practice witchcraft ever again, due to it being the reason she lost everything. after about 2 more years, she became a full fledged myconid due to all the eldritch fungi, which gave her the ability to talk with sentient mushrooms. noelle started making friends with a lot of sentient mushrooms by keeping them company and making food for them, while the sentient mushrooms in turn searched for ingredients for food. during one of their searches, noelle's favorite mushroom became sick, similar to her father, and she knew what needed to be done. she wiped the layers upon layers of dust off the old pot, and started making magic soup. she used every bit of knowledge she had about magic soup to be able to heal that mushroom. this time however, nothing got in the way, and she was able to heal them. after this, she began learning as much as she could about magic soup, having regained her love for it.

gonna keep adding other stuff onto this post as time goes on

at 150 followers i'll draw my mutuals, well at least the ones i've interacted with

↑ ok so to be more specific, since im absolutely NEVER going to get the drawing finished if i draw an actual character (i'd get demotivated before even starting lol) im gonna just have to draw something that symbolises the mutuals.

oh also the drawings will all be on one paper and be stacked on top of this absolute MONSTER of a pinned post

[smallestdogswilldie]

ok you know what makes me sad. as like a former self proclaimed misandrist man hater that would cry and scream about how much it sucks to live in a mans world etc etc etc put estrogen in the water fountains (was never a terf. yall can still die)

for anyone who is still… like that… how can you live in that hatred and misery every day. are women paid less yes are we denied reporductive care by old fart men who are going senile and some by some middle aged women yes. are men statistically like responsible for almost all violent crime and child crimes yes. the more you focus on this shit JUST TO GET MAD ? No ACTION? your fucking soul will get torn apart. genuienly whats the fucking point of just sitting in a circle and hating men. its such a stupid fucking “personality trait” to GENUINELY hate all men sorry babe but you are self harming your soul is shriveling. im sorry please cope. i dated a “””bi””” man because i “hated straight men” for 2 1/2 years…

tldr i hated “masculine” men so much i ended up in a loveless touch deprived relationship with a man who wouldnt touch me because he was actually gay (didnt feel the need to tell me this for 2 1/2 years..) nothing wrong with that but you see where my hatred of MASCULINITY landed me. in a relationship that was about to kill me from stress trying to figure out why i was untouchable because i chose the most feminine man in the midwest to date. hitting myself with sticks in the forest hoping someone would come kill me all because i refused to date a straight man. SWORE never to date a straight man. then i fucking did and hes normal. are they all? not at all. maybe i got lucky but im sorry. girls who are attracted to men but hate them genuinely just are in a cycle of not knowing how to pick them or of unresolved trauma. its on you to fix that. are they going to say sorry? no 😂 so YOU fix it because we all have to.

are the majority of straight cis men uneducated, rude, bigoted and kind of stupid? yes! literally yes. if you feel some type of way or anger towards men because of trauma i ABSOLUTELY understand. but we still gonna need a therapist tho girl. i cant even feel bad if you don’t address your issues and spew hatred at half the population for no other reason than to hear your own voice, and making no effort to heal yourself.

i like to believe, ground breaking statement here, that some straight men are actually great fucking people with manners and decorum and emotional intelligence. do you have to risk it to find them? yes. is it worth it? yeah. 1000000x over. there is beauty in TRUSTING SOMEONE. if they hurt you? ok ouch! do whatever has to be done to keep loving. you cannot shut yourself behind reinforced fucking bars because 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 men hurt you. easier said than done yes esp if you have trauma. do you have no desire to HEAL????? and become full of love again???? stop w the bullshit. like actually its tired childish and im going to say it its pessimistic, annoying and posionous. keep that shit to yourself until you resolve that shit. or dont and shut the fuck up!!!

some of us are trying to keep faith which you clearly have lost. and its a sick, stinky attitude to have. keep it to yourself because it makes anyone with a healthy relationship and attraction to men feel like a wet blanket. like sorry that happened to you and you havnt put any effort into healing and that you are seething with hate. its not my problem. survive like the rest of us and for your heart health, literally get help before you have a heart attack or get ulcers.

[bubblessunshinehoney]

Big Fan (part3)

chapter 3: where you go on a date....?

don't be shy, reblog, comment, like!

Enjoy, Cloudy

not beta read, english is not my first language. all mistakes are my own

tw: none,bad timing, petnames, bucky is a warning

serie masterlist

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3

If you don't want to miss any udpate, go follow my sideblog: @cloudysideblog

🥰🌷

This time, no business dinner, no café closing, Bucky decided he was going to invite you for a real date. He was done waiting for his turn.

Since your last encounter, you both texted each other almost all day, sometimes during the night. You even called him, saying it will be easier than typing.

Everything was going smoothly, too smoothly to Bucky liking, but he tried to let his pessimist voice in the closet.

From Y/N

So … I looked over my agenda, im free all weekend, so whenever you can, I’m down for the restaurant.

Did you realise it was a date? Bucky started to overthink and imagine you were just being friendly, not flirting with him, maybe he was to blind…maybe you were not interest.

From Y/N

I was even thinking…what about doing brunch on Saturday then go on a little walk and maybe…well we can see where that lead us? If you’re free of course… 😉

He smiled, the entire day together? Gosh, did he deserve to be this lucky.

From Bucky

This sounds amazing, I’m free all Saturday, going overboard on Sunday. JBB

You giggled; it was cute that he always ended his texts with JBB.

From Bucky

May I come and get you? If you’re not afraid of motorbikes.

“You have to say yes, that’s like super-hot”, interfered your best friend.

“Can you not read my texts?” You said in a fake annoyed ton.

From Y/N

Sounds even better! Let me text you my address… say around 10am?

“Well, finally you’re getting somewhere?” chimed Sam.

“Can you not read my texts?”

Bucky glared at Sam who was just smiling at him, innocently.

Saturday

You were up since 6am, absolutely panicking. You were going to spend most of your day with Bucky, if last night you were impatient, right now, you wonder if it will not be easier to call him to say you were sick. Like if your best friend was in your head, she sent you a text:

“No, you’re not sick, it’s gonna be a good day. It’s your turn, love. Your time to live what you write about for all these years. Go leave your romantic novel. You got this!”

You smiled, grateful for her words.

An incoming call, Bucky, you anserwed:

“Yes?”

“Hi, it’s me, I mean bucky…I’m a bit early, but the weather is so nice I thought… we could take the longer way to enjoy the ride? Is…is that okay?”

“More than okay, let me just put my shoes on and I’ll be right here.”

“Okay, doll, see ya!”

“B---bye”

Did he just call me doll?

You shook your head and put your shoes and jacket on. Running down the stairs, you were meet with a nice view. Bucky was leaning on his bike, arms crossed, biceps bulging, and he looked…ravishing.

“Hey cowboy!” you cheered.

He chuckled and walked to you. “Hey there, doll…is that okay if I call you that? I just realise after the phone that…”

You shut him off with your hand on his left arm. “It’s totally okay, I’m just not use to have a nickname, old fashion one, use for me from a guy.”

“Cowboy is also new to me”, he smiled sheepishly, taking your hand carefully from his left arm, that’s when you realise.

“Oh sorry! I didn’t…I mean, tell me if your left arm is a no touch zone…okay?”

He kissed your hand. “For now, I prefer not. “

He led you to the bike and handed you a helmet. But before you could put it on, he’s phone ranged and he looked at it, cursing.

“What now ?...really…fuck now is not the time and you know it. Can…of course…but fuck Sam…yeah, you’ll make it up to her.”

He hung up and looked at you with the most puppy eyes you’ve ever seen.

“I’m so sorry doll…, but…duty is calling, I have to go early, the target has moved faster and…”

“I get it, go save the world and yes, Sam must make it to me” you smiled, a bit disappointed. “I really was looking for our day.”

“So do I…gosh, Y/N, I wish I could stay here right now.”

He held your hands and you came closer to him.

“Come back fast, okay? We can have maybe… brunch at my place, I make the most perfect banana pancakes.”

He cupped your cheek with his right hand, stroking your cheekbone. “I’ll do my best; I’ll text you when I’m on my way back.”

You nodded, putting your hand on his chest. “Be safe, cowboy.”

“I will, I have a reason to come back now.” With that he kissed your forehead and left without looking back.

When he was out of sight, you called your best friend.

“My life is a fucking joke…”

If you don't want to miss any udpate go follow my sidebloge: @cloudysideblog

update of this fic, every monday (at least i will try)

[raging-feminism]

Hello, I am a 13 year old girl living in 2023, I’ve always been passionate about feminism and equality. I honestly just want everyone to get along, but I know that’s not happening, so I’d just like to use this blog as a way sexism has affected me as a girl in society now, thank you.

Ever since I was little gender norms have been pushed down my throat, I’ve been bullied all my life, and sometimes it would end in violence towards me. If a boy were to hit me, shove me, grope me, harass me, constantly call me slurs, online bully me, etc, I was told it was just boys being boys, and that they liked me. Whenever I would say anything to anyone I would be called a snitch, or a prude. A nagger. Love that for me! I’ve always wondered how boys harassing me every day of my life, calling my the r slur and a lesbo, telling me I should slit my wrists, saying I deserved to be raped for the way I dressed or the way I talked, was just boys being boys.

I remember when I was 8 years old, there was this one kid that would not leave me alone, I was in 3rd grade at the time. Everytime we had partner work it would be “Boys, pick a girl to work with.” He always chose me, it was 3rd grade, we all were and still are young, there were a bunch of blocks in a bin in the back of the classroom. He would sit me behind a table and throw blocks at me while I did his work. I didn’t tell the teacher for 4 months, when I told her the response I got was “He must like you! Isn’t that adorable?” I still remember the way she looked at me in awe, after I literally came to her crying with bruises all over my legs and arms.

2 nights ago, my parents had a Christmas party. They wouldn’t let me stay in my room, but I have severe anxiety and panic disorder, and find it hard to be around people. I was kinda just sitting on my couch the whole time. My neighbors son is 10 years old. He kept sitting down on the couch with me, which was awkward and scary for me, but I didn’t do anything because it was just a normal human interaction I can barely handle. He kept getting closer, eventually he just kept groping my tits. I kept asking him to stop but he wouldn’t so I just got up and hung out with my friends and some other random kids and neighbors, everyone got really energetic and it made me anxious, so I left again. At this point my neighbor had groped me about 7 times that night, he came up to me on the couch and started humping my leg, I kept moving but he just kept getting up on my knee and humping me. I get he’s 10, but it’s nasty. I told my dad, his response? He laughed and said “isn’t he a fucking rizzler? Gonna get all the girls when he’s older, lighten up. He doesn’t mean anything by it.” When I get really anxious I get physically sick, I threw up in the bathroom and stayed there until our neighbors left. I love my neighbors, the mom and two daughters are so sweet, and I don’t want to hate the son, but I do. The dad is a genuine criminal and is on the run from the police at the moment, I’ll probably get into that and what he’s done to me in another post. This is all im writing for now. If you read this, thank you. Please be honest, am I overreacting?

[starkdirewolflove]

The Wheel of Time thoughts

Im really loving season 2 so far, it’s much faster paced than season 1 and we’re digging into the characters emotions and motivations more. (I haven’t read the books so this is show only).

The last episode was brilliant and had so much going on but that was really Egwene’s episode like episode 3 was Nynaeve’s episode. Watching Egwene go through so much physical and mental torture was tough but as Loial said there is steel beneath the sweet exterior and she will survive this. There are also so many of her friends planning to rescue her: Loial wants to break her out of the kennels, Nynaeve and Elayne are working out how to remove the collar and won’t leave without her, Perrin is close by with Aviendha planning to rescue his friends from the Seanchan which will include Egwene once he knows she’s there and Rand will be on his way as soon as he has his meeting with the Amyrlin Seat. One of the scenes between Egwene and Renna I found interesting was after she got Egwene to use the One Power to burn down the tree she seemed so excited and happy like they really bonded so when she told Egwene she deserved a drink but Egwene fell back in agony because she wanted to attack Renna again, her face just dropped. Like she thought they were friends now and when that didn’t happen that’s when she turned physically violent for the first time, Renna said Egwene can’t hurt her but I think Egwene’s rejection in that moment hurt and that’s when she stopped trying to “cultivate a friendship.” There is going to be such a showdown between those two when Egwene gets rid of the collar and can fight back.

Lanfear/Selene has been an interesting new addition to the cast, I knew from the first sneak peek of her scene with Rand when she tells him if he wants something to take it that she was gonna be evil/a villain but she’s a brilliant villain. Love her calling Ishamael “Ishy” and banishing him from Rand’s dreams and the way she won Liandrin over to her side instead of Ishamael. Lanfear is definitely a femme fatale and is gonna stir things up with both sides.

Liandrin seems close to unraveling now. I think she knows it’s only a matter of time before her true nature is revealed, when she said Elayne was a complication she knew her plan was fucked but she couldn’t back down. Selling Nynaeve and Egwene to the Seanchan she could’ve explained their absence by saying Nynaeve left because of what happened to her in The Arches and Egwene went with her because she was so grief stricken when she thought Nynaeve died that she didn’t want to lose her again, but having the Daughter-Heir of Andor go missing too is one lie too many. All it takes is someone to send word to the Queen asking when her daughter is coming back to the White Tower and there’ll be an uproar. We also found out a bit more about Liandrin’s backstory from Lanfear and why she hates men so much, her life sounds pretty fucked up like and then her reward for swearing to the dark was that her son gets to live but as Lanfear said “this isn’t life.” He’s sick, bedridden, too old and can’t even speak and Liandrin couldn’t watch as Lanfear mercy killed him to “set her free.” I actually gasped when I saw Liandrin at the gathering of Aes Sedai in Cairhien because it’s all gonna blow up next week with her being in the same place as Rand, Mat, Min and Moiraine as well as the two Brown Ajah Verin and Yasicca being onto her now. She looked really panicked when she was trying to find out why the Amyrlin was in Cairhien with 14 Aes Sedai.

Moiraine has been through the ringer this season, she’s trying to cope with being Stilled and having an existential crisis that everything she has been doing for the last 20 years has been wrong and only helped the Dark instead of defeating it. Like that is some heavy burdens, but I think she has being going about things so wrong this season by keeping everyone at arms length and pushing away people who care about her. I know she’s trying to protect Lan because she thinks she’s going to die in this fight against the Dark and she doesn’t want him to feel her death through the bond and end up like Stepin but she should trust him more than she has this season, he’s been her best friend for 20 years, always has her back and would literally die for her, I hope they have a proper reunion next week. There seems to be a thaw with Moiraine and her family after she apologised for how she’s been treating them, like her nephew adores her and her sister still loves her even though there’s some unresolved issues between them but they’re still going to support her even if they don’t know what’s going on. Moiraine has obviously been in contact with Siuan since there was a letter with her seal on the writing desk. It was like a scene from some Victorian romance drama watching Moiraine drafting letters to “my dearest Siuan” and then throwing them away because she can’t explain herself properly, then her sister comes in and says “The Amyrlin Seat is her with fourteen Aes Sedai and she’s demanding an audience with you.” Lol that was brilliant, Moiraine’s face was a picture of shock and surprise, can’t wait to see what happens with them next week.

Lan The Man, he’s done following orders and is taking action to protect Moiraine whether she wants him to or not. He’s been tagging along with Alanna and her warders as if they have him on suicide watch but he’s been figuring out his next move in the fight against the dark and how best to help Moiraine. I can’t believe that Alanna, Maksim and Ihvon actually thought Lan was a dark friend but their confrontation helped move things along. Alanna translated the prophecy about Lanfear, Lan found out where the Amyrlin was and got them to go with him to get her for Moiraine but he also had to tell them about Rand being the Dragon Reborn. I loved that Lan showed up at the end just outside of Cairhien to stop Rand from leaving so now everyone can share information and make a plan to fight back against Ishamael and the Seanchan.

[pesterquestrewritten]

Sorry if this is an inappropriate question to ask, but why do you want to rewrite pesterquest? Was there anything wrong with its original version, or are you just doing this for fun?

brain is a Lil Loopy rn so please excuse if this answer is semi incoherent - recovering from ankle surgery rn.

im gonna try to not harp on the original pesterquest as a project/talk about my percieved issues with it. from what I understand about the work environment where it was developed, it was hell -- poor communication, tiny budgets, little overall direction. plus every artist/writer involved was likely busy with other things at the same time (for example finishing the development of Hiveswap Act 2). they had so much going against them, and... it sorts shows in the final work, which isn't their fault. the original PQ team was passionate and cared and like. the absolutely last thing i want to do is disrespect them.

(generally also stating for the record that calling the original PQ "trash" or "replaced" is like. not good vibes. please don't do this if you're trying to enjoy PQR -- the last thing the original postcanon team needs is more harassment.)

anyway.

pqr is fanfiction, fundamentally.

i started making pqr because in september i was sick with covid, i wanted to learn renpy, and i wanted to study homestuck more. i wanted to figure out what made PQ tick, literally, figuratively, all of the above.

plus i really wanted to write a different story arc for mspar.

i also really love the side characters in Homestuck, and wish they all got more time to shine. the pqr prologue including a set of Spades Slick sprites just for a brief encounter i think helps establish what i want to do with the like. raw potential of the premise of a Homestuck visual novel.

damara is the other big thing -- i've wanted to make a story with her in it work for ages. (if anyone remembers the old MEGIDO hades mod, that was my first big public attempt. she was gonna be the protagonist, breaking out of scratch's mansion. turns out coding in renpy is WAY easier LMAO)

like. the plan wasn't even initially to have the prologue be a full damara route? i just let the writing take me where it wanted to take me. it's been deeply fun and cathartic.

the prologue's "bad end" has some incredibly intimate themes of like. inevitability, and worrying you've let everyone you love down, and i showed it to a college friend who i hadn't spoken to for ages and she set a screenshot from it as her background.

like. to me. that's pqr. that's why i make it.

pqr is the laundry room ending of rose's route, a deeply personal look into my own fears and anxieties as an author reflected back through this girl's circumstances. pqr is also the retcon ending of rose's route, a wildly stupid and indulgent romp through my own past fanfiction for a silly gag that people seemed to really love.

pqr is about dave and myself looking for a place to stay simultaneously -- pqr is about jade leaving prospit, and how i was adding to that part of the game in real-time as i dropped out of college, changing both of our destinies to something unexpected but hopefully better, at the same time.

pqr is also a silly extended sleepover scene. it's just fun to see them interact.

pqr is an excuse to turn over corners of homestuck and see if we can't peek behind them. what was it like for roxy, to think she lost joey and then find rose's meteor barely a year later? of course she'd think it's impossible for her to succeed as a mother. pqr is about finding empathy for yourself for your own mistakes, reflected back at you through homestuck characters.

because really, isn't that what we're all here for?

pqr is me coming back to my last long-abandoned attempt at an act 5 rewrite. pqr is an excuse to watch my girlfriend grow in confidence and style as she makes all the endcards and incidental art (except for joey route pt 2, but THAT was an excuse to work with a NEW friend!!!!!!!)

pqr is a friendship simulator that i am winning by having an incredibly supportive and collaborative group of friends in the dev thread who are cheering me on with every segment of text i post, friends who will hop in vc to check out the newest segment. friends like @dare0451 who literally yesterday rendered out some new audio to upgrade the June route to be even more fucking amazing and terrifying than it already was, AND DARE HASN'T EVEN PLAYED IT????? IT'S LITERALLY JUST. IT'S FRIENDSHIP MAN. PQR IS FRIENDSHIP

what the hell was this question again.

oh right.

yeah it's been fun basically. that's why i do it lol

[oddvanilla]

kinda pray for monkeypox not becoming a big deal

like our world going NUTS we dont need it too THO very often i think about how everythinh that happens is part of future's history and it makes me kinda less paranoid because people been thorught worse and it wont be a big deal for anyone

ALSO GOT REALLY OFFENDED BY THE APPLICATION THAT CPVID MADE PEOPLE STRUGGLE WITH ASKING FOR KETCHUP for me it qasnt covid i swear i jusy became insane and now try to get more like a human

YESSS YOU GET ITTT!!! LIKE I JUST HOPE ITS NOT TRUE. THE WORLD HEALTH ORGANISATION IS ALREADY FINDING CURES TO IT OR SOMETHING LIKE OMG PLS GO BACK TO FINDING A CURE FOR CANCER LIKE MONKEY POX WONT GET THAAAT BAD....right

(upcoming yap session put Ur seat belts on)

I often think about how back then it was way worse. Like ah yes, I'm a Victorian child born into a lower class family and I'm forced to labour all my life living in the streets of London or something. Of course, you don't have food or water or any source of hygiene to begin with. The worst part is..water quality was so bad back then that if you don't have drinking water; people just drink beer instead.

Imagine your 6 year old daughter working her life off mining in a cave with starvation since yesterday and you have to just give her MORE beer to fill her stomach 😭 like oh GOD that's miserable..

and after all that, im surprised the diseases we get now are more "dangerous" than back then. Mind you, people in the 1800s or 1700s had like NO technology to even think of finding a cure. Like damn you didn't even invent a microscope YET. <- I'll educate you a bit about history..the first microscope as a CONCEPT was made by a Dutch man named Zacharias Janssen all the way back in 1590!!! But the first MODERN microscope that we know nowadays with all the different lenses and even coloured was in 1774. That's like almost 2 centuries later...and incase you haven't focused in your 7th grade science class, the first atomic theory was in 1804. If you understand where I'm going with this, we humans are slow as HELLL.

I'm mentioning all of this saying dude...you're telling me people back then had some deadly diseases, couldn't cure it, DIED on streets, and didnt even GET quarantine.

LIKE NO OLIVIA YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE A WIFE IN THE 1800s. NOT ONLY WILL YOU GET YOUR RIGHTS TAKEN AWAY BUT YOURE ALSO GONNA GET BORN, MARRIED AT 7 YEARS OLD TO THE PRINCE OF FRANCE, GET A DEADLY VIRUS AND DIE BY 12. MUST BE SOO NICE TO BE A WIFE IN THE 1800s CAUSE YOURE BORN IN THE WRONG GENERATION...right?? ❤️

Talking about generation...which I bet everyone is sick of me talking about..but like dude would our generation survive if we just got a time machine to the 17th century. Although I dont believe in the evolution theory because we are NOT monkeys but I believe over time humans learn new skills, which changes their life styles therefore their bodies change too because every creature adapts. Cool!!

You ever see those articles about how nowadays we stay on our phone all day and that'll make our bodies lazy and not used to work blah blah blah,, at first I was gonna say if we go back to the time the Spanish flu for example started we would PROBABLY survive because we have better education, better immune systems due to actual healthcare and we could definitely survive with just common sense. Like wtf?? I'm NOT going to visit by rat filled basement bare foot..

HOWEVER compare the average human who sits on bed all day scrolling and laughing at a glowy rectangular shaped decide called a phone...we would not last a day without internet...at least I know I wouldn't 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

So like...think about it. Why is corona so dangerous?? It's only borderline to older diseases. Or maybe it's the other way around. Corona itself is DEADLY, but it's just the situation and life style we have today that makes me wonder why it's harmless. Like cough cough I got covid oh no!!! I can just stay in my home all day.. like you get what I mean?? I'm sure you would just get back to work if you were unfortunately lower class victorian child and had covid..and dying probably gives you more peace than working a lifetime for 10 cents..

So that's it!!! Silly lil rant about Victorian children, diseases, Humans Adapting, science and history, and of course generations. MY ALL TIME FAVOURITE TOPICS TO TALK ABOUT!!!

[i-am-a-l0st-gh0st]

★Masterlist★

- Albedo

Underneath the Stars- "I heard you talking in your sleep."-\

Brainrot- Fluff

-Scara

im scum, im waste, im what you want- 'I thought I told you not to smile at other men.'

Part 2

Part 3

What am I gonna do- "Why are you asking me such stupid questions?"

Hold me closer and I'll hold back- "Same old heart with the same old tricks, hold me closer and I’ll hold back"

He says everything I need to hear- And its like i couldn't ask for anything better

If im dead to you why are at the wake?- Cursing my name, wishing I'd stayed

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater- and if may just take your breath away

-Alhaitham

A soulmate who wasn't meant to be- 'Was our relationship just a joke to you...?'

All the stars aligned- "And what name should I put?"

When I'm not with you think of me always- "Everything is alright just hold on tight, that's because I'm a god old fashioned lover boy"

In front of all your stupid friends- "If you kissed me would it be just like i dreamed?"

Brainrot

When I'd fight you used to tell me I was brave- “Cause I loved you, I swear I love you… Till my dying day…”

-Kaeya

One last time- 'Can you just kiss me? One last time? That's all I ask...'

I'll do anything you ask of me- My fingers pressed until their sore

-Tighnari

Wandering in the woods- "It's alright Collei, they should be okay. You did good."

-Xiao

Falling asleep on him- 'He was rarely shown affection and was very unsure what do to when he received it.'

Drunk under a street light- "But I knew you, dancing in your Levis drunk under a street light"-

You said you love me exactly the way I am- "Guess I must be satisfactory you said you love me exactly the way I am"

Show me how you care- Show me how you smile

Meet me at our spot- Baby, are you coming for the ride?

Childe

In your arms tonight-. 'You hadn't been hugged by anyone like this in years, so of course some tears were shed.'

Hey I miss your stupid face- Get back to my place, I need you. It hurts so much to wait

I never meant to hurt you though- I pushed a lot back but I can't forget it

Neuvillette

But I didn't need to be stronger I needed to be saved- You wanted nothing more than to hold him

And that's why I love fall- I love you y/n don't you forget that

With eyes as dead as mine- "Oh, what a blessing to meet someone like you."

Could you ever imagine where our lives could be- Luckily you saw something in me, something I couldn’t see

Ayato

But now he's playing with your head- "God will you stop being so clingy!"

They never know what you know- "It's not that simple but they won't seem to notice"

All the leaves are brown- And the sky is grey

Kaveh

All this over a kiss- "You're Y/N, my Fiance!"

Clung on tightly, like parentheses- "And every sentence that a spoke began and ended with ellipsis"

I wanna be your favourite boy- "I wanna be the one who makes your day, the one you think about as you lie awake"

Why don't you love me anymore?- But you say I don't know how to love

Lyney

I don't know what to do without you- "Please, I'm still the same lyney you fell in love with"

Please hold me close to you- Baby flatline still time to do it too

And i thought you might be mine- In a small world, on an exceptionally rainy Tuesday night

Feeling sick of myself- Guess I'll try to be someone else (trans masc reader)

The breathing exercises hurt- They don't do fuck all

I'll Hide My Chest...- And i'll figure out a way to get us out of here

No alarms and no surprises-Such a pretty house And such a pretty garden

Wait by the door like I'm just a kid- And watch you tolerate it.

Boys don't cry- I would say i'm sorry, if thought that it would change your mind.

I should be over all the butterflies- Im still into you

Secrets i have held in my heart- are harder to hide than I thought

Part 1

Part 2

I'm cutting people out again- I hope to see their faces when I pursue. Haunting you…

I'll hide my chest- And I'll figure out a way to get us out of here.

Wriothesley

Yeah, you made it all alright- Those words were for you and for you alone

Why do I myself dream like this?- "But perhaps its just my stupid hea in the end

We fell in love in October- That's why I love fall

They say it's such a shame, I turned out this way- "The red means I love you."

We listen to a lot of true crime- But it's alright, she'll be fine

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Breaking my back just know your name- Well, some body told me, that you have a boyfriend.

Make sure nobody sees you leave- Tell your friends you're out for a run

Heizou

I can't stop you putting roots in my dream land- Despite being a detective many things about you were still a mystery that he could never figure out.

Thoma

Sweet tea in the summer- "Sweet tea in the summer, cross my heart won't tell no other"

You know i wanna be your light- In darkness, How you find me just in time to tell me what I needed to hear.

Kazuha

I don't deserve you, you deserve the world- Every time that i miss you I feel the way you hurt

Diluc

Oh what a blessing to meet someone like you- "With eyes as dead as mine"

Just know that if you hide, it doesn't go away- When you get out of bed don't end up stranded

It's always been just him and me together- So I'll bet all I have on

Just one more tear to cry- One tear drop from my eye

Multi

Coming out as Non-binary

You and me, always forever- Fremient, Lyney, Alhaitham

Gaming

If you're lost you can look and find me- Time after Time

You're just another picture to burn- There's no time for tears

Arlecchino

Date rambles-

My kinda girl- Im down on my hands and knees begging you please baby

[r-edacted]

If I see one more dumb cunt complain that Gandhi isn't in clone high season 2 I'm gonna kill someone. The creators almost got SUED because if the depiction of Gandhi in the show, what makes you think they would bring him back??? So the show can get canceled again?? Gandhi is funny yes but demanding he comes back when they literally cant is a level of entitlement i could only see coming from cartoon fans. People asking for Gandhi to come back are annoying asf.

Also I like the design of the news clones! Theyre suppose to exaggerate the bright neon part of 2023! Why would you assume the new clones would have the same style as the old clones in 2003? They're suppose to stick out from the original cast on exception is Topher bus

And this is ALL based off of two episodes! Im so sick of these fucking nostalgia freaks having a seizure whenever a media they like changes over time especially in clone highs case where it's been 20 YEARS. Get a grip please.