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its-avalon-08 · 7 months ago

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hi !! can you do headcanons max verstappen X senna’s daugther!reader?

thank uuuu

hii !!! if i were to imagine senna's daughter!reader she would be so talented. she isn't a driver because of her built up trauma. (im fully aware that the timelines don't add up, don't add logic into it <3) she is an aerodynamic engineer, mainly responsible for making the car. she is secretly in love with speed and racing.

max and y/n met when they were just kids. max was a menace on track and y/n was terrified of racing. she saw speeding cars as a reminder of her father's passing. being good friends, y/n has a tradition of kissing max's helmet as a feeble attempt to keep him safe.

they started dating in 2019, and have been together ever since. y/n being the absolute genius she is, continues to work in redbull and delivers top of the line car designs leading to the dominance as seen on track.

max leaves a single, perfect red tulip on y/n's desk every race weekend, a silent promise to return safely.

y/n hides little notes in max's helmet before qualifying, each one a technical insight phrased like a love letter.

max, despite his aversion to early mornings, wakes up before y/n on important presentations to make her breakfast, his way of calming her pre-work jitters.

y/n, who finds airplanes stressful, uses a calming app max downloaded for her whenever they travel together.

max, after a particularly grueling race weekend, finds y/n curled up on the couch with a book about aerodynamics. he joins her, listening intently as she explains a new concept she's been working on, his full attention the sweetest victory lap.

max knows how deeply the lack of a father figure affected her, causing under-confidence and a constant need of validation. max knows this and never stops giving her words of affirmations.

everyone of the grid adores y/n. they see her spirit and her beautiful face reflect senna's in so many ways. max is fiercely protective of y/n, often defending her from questions about her father and his death.

y/n hates jos verstappen from the bottom of her heart. she is not scared of yelling at him when he berates max. she whispers affirmations into max's ears after a bad race (which was rare but not impossible)

when max crashes, y/n is the first to suffer from the highest intensity of a panic attack. she shivers and trembles until max gets out safely. after the crash in 2021 with hamilton which caused max to fall over in the medical center, y/n angirly stormed towards the cheerful hamilton, shouting angrily.

here's what happened ↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓

the smile evaporated as y/n marched towards him. it wasn't a walk, it was a storm surge. "congratulations? you call pushing max off the track at 200 mph congratulations?" her voice, usually calm and collected, was a tightly leashed fury. lewis blinked, his smile morphing into something defensive. "it was a racing incident, y/n. we both went for the corner." her voice cracked. "racing incident? you call leaving him stranded on the gravel, risking his life, a racing incident? do you have any idea what it's like to watch someone you love walk away from a fireball?" the room held its breath. lewis's face paled. "y/n, i…" "no, you don't," she cut him off, her voice thick with emotion. "you don't get to pretend you know what it's like to see your dreams vanish in a cloud of smoke. you don't get to understand the terror of every single corner, every single race because you haven't lost anyone on this damn track!" tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the accusing stare she fixed on him. "max is more than a rival, lewis. he's a friend, a teammate, a human being. and today, you gambled with his life for a trophy." the silence stretched, suffocating. finally, lewis spoke, his voice devoid of its usual bravado. "y/n, i… i didn't…" "you didn't think," she finished the sentence for him, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "just like some people never think about the consequences of their actions." turning on her heel, she stormed out of the room, leaving behind a stunned silence and a champion stripped of his celebratory air. as y/n reached the red bull garage, she found max emerging from the medical center, a sheepish grin on his face. relief washed over her, so strong it brought her to her knees. max rushed to her side, his concern a warm balm on her raw emotions. he held her close, whispering reassurances into her hair.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more <3 happy reading!

leave a like! leave a note!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

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theoxenfree · 2 months ago

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FAULTY

android x reader | 2.5k | 18+

you're hired by a prestigious tech company to test out their latest and greatest—an android of such unparalleled human likeness designed to satisfy your every need and whim. one day, you notice that something is off...

warnings; dubcon, implied!breeding/insemination, mentions dietary habits, dirty talk, roughly proofread

reposted from 2kmps. this is a concept piece to my android x reader story opaque. I'd love to hear your guy's feedback on whether you'd like to read the longer story (35.5k)!! please reblog and interact!!

He had a face structured to be unimaginably beautiful, a sort that you'd never tire of looking at, finding something new to admire and touch every time, yet it saddled your mind with some inexplicable discomfort and set the hairs on the back of your neck straight like needles. Over time, that feeling had never fully subsided, simultaneously becoming one you craved at every instance he entered a room, like Pavlov’s dog trained to salivate to a bell.

“What is your preference this morning, Maker?” Elio announced himself from the kitchen once your first heel struck the bottom of the staircase. His voice was liquefied velvet, mellifluous with enough depth that you swore even the simplest words spoken could make your heart tremble. “Maker? Are you well?”

You wished he would call you something else, something other than what the manufacturer had programmed him to. He was an advanced model—pardon, a luxury model—so his repertoire came with extensive features not available in other options, but insofar, the ability to have androids refer you by name was only achievable by obscene amounts of money and sending them back to the manufacturer to have them install it there.

Elio was up for being considered the gold standard in android development, as proclaimed by the researcher you were put in communication with during the beginning of the trial run. He was made to be perfect in every way, perform flawlessly in anything asked of him, and respond favorably regardless of situation or dilemma.

“Coffee with cream and sugar is fine. I'm not in the mood to eat anything this morning.” It was often explained. He was supposed to memorize it, but he asked you every morning regardless. “Are you having issues with your memory bank, Elio?”

Single strands of his coiffed hair moved with his head as he looked at you, hands busily putting together your beverage to every exact specification. This made it obvious enough that nothing was inhibiting his ability to store away your morning preferences.

“Not at all. It's just that some days you prefer your coffee lightly sweetened, others you enjoy a meal that won't leave you feeling groggy in the afternoon.” Elio explained in his precise, elegant tones with a smile far too effortless to come from a machine. “I thought it wise to commit these discrepancies to my memory bank for your convenience and to ask from now on.”

Fascinating. You weren't aware of this element in the newest model. The guidebook that Researcher Kim had given you made no mention of it.

What's more is he decided to do this spontaneously. You were making a note about it in your phone when a simple white mug was placed before you, Elio’s pristine fingertips turning it by the rim until the handle faced your dominant hand.

“Please consider eating something before leaving the house. Coffee on an empty stomach, especially one as sensitive as yours, won't end well, as I'm led to believe from my research.” Elio watched you drink through long dark lashes that framed depths of piercing green. You liked how they seemed to turn paler or darker in different lighting, dimensions similar to a marble held up to the sun. “I’d also like to remind you that the quality of food that you consume first thing in the morning aids with energy disbursement throughout the day. I have a very gratuitous database of recipes that I can prepare for you.”

You were taking delicate sips from the round rim while he talked, lips surrounding the porcelain long enough that you swore his gaze had wavered to them for a split second before returning eye contact.

“I’m glad someone is concerned about my tummy health because I always believed someone would find me face down in the bathroom from my ass prolapsing.” You wished someone with a sense of humor was around for that banger, but, alas, it was Elio, and he did not laugh

His expression turned severe. “Human bodies are oddly as robust as they are sensitive. Most of the worldwide population suffers from similar afflictions: lactose intolerance, varying dermatitis, poor eyesight, gastrointestinal diseases. Humans are, in every sense, meant to harbor and experience chronic pain and disease throughout their lifespan. I do believe this attests to your durability as a species.

“All this to say, my main prerogative and function is for the betterment of your life and health. So, knowing all of this and to conclude, please consider a couple slices of toast or an omelet before leaving. Your daily habits dictate a routine visit to the coffee shop on Fifth and Lowe, where you'll consume around one hundred twenty milligrams of caffeine, and your first meal of the day may be a sweetened pastry without nutritional density. You will, indubitably, ‘feel bad’ the rest of the day as a result.”

“Holy shit.” You had given up on recording his speech after the first two minutes, phone facedown on the gleaming countertop. “You didn't plagiarize that from a random article on the internet, did you?”

Coffee having turned lukewarm by the end of his presentation, he took the mug away and emptied the medium-brown contents into the drain before turning on the faucet to clean it. “Not at all. I've simply been accumulating knowledge on your routines and have noticed you're at an increasing risk for different ailments. Did you find it helpful?”

Truthfully, you weren't so sure. Androids were built to serve humans in every capacity, but their limitations were still well-known. They were capable of carefully compiling decades worth of information on their owners, plus the equivalent of hundreds more, but everything Elio had just said was beyond the scope of their normal hardware. The information had been elucidated critically yet with a certain sentience you expected from a caretaker—not a machine built for convenience, entertainment, and pleasure.

You weren't sure how much of it you needed to relay to Researcher Kim or if it was any real reason for concern at this stage or just part of Elio’s advanced circuitry. A part of you worried, just slightly, that officially documenting all of this would have Elio removed from the testing period prematurely—he was supposed to be yours, exclusively, for another six months.

The contract had been signed. Elio had been promised to you despite the number of waitlisted celebrities trying to bribe their way into the corporation and Researcher Kim’s good graces.

This, of course, was all only contingent if he operated and performed, at all times, as outlined in the guidebook you were handed upon Elio’s awakening. Researcher Kim had delivered his newest creation to you himself, a dreary Wednesday in late autumn in the mid-morning, and had taken great care to put the crisp, chemical-scented poundage of bound pages in your fingers and insisted that if you noticed the slightest decoration from what was printed inside, he be alerted to it immediately.

You didn't do that.

You took a hot shower, blow-dried your hair, put your arms through some clean clothes, and let Elio follow you to the front door to see you off for the day.

That day grew stranger still, not even yet being ten o’ clock in the morning, when the deadbolt clicked and your finger joints bent around cold brass. It didn't raise chicken skin on your arms and neck nearly as high as when Elio pushed his hand to the door, keeping it shut despite your pull.

You couldn't look into his green eyes, shockingly pale in the golden rays filtering inside your home from the window arching in the door. “Did I forget something?”

“No. I accounted for everything you'd need on your outing.” Elio said, perfectly. His hand made a sound as it slid down along the door, resting shoulder height on you. “A function you have not utilized in me as of now is that of a ‘companion.’. Do you find me defective in that way? Dr. Kim developed me to be attractive to the human eye—stimulating, perhaps, is a more definitive word to use.”

“I—no, Elio. You're plenty, er, stimulating. I just don't know how appropriate it is for me to do anything like that while you're in a testing period.” It felt distasteful to have to point out his own inhumanity to him, despite his model being cognizant enough to be aware of it. “It would feel weird, I think.”

“That is one of my primary purposes,” he insisted, shrinking the height of himself so he was nearer to your face. “I was created to be a companion, to alleviate that pervading loneliness that plagues you—all of humanity. Humans have forgotten how to communicate and love each other, so that's why I'm standing here now. You're ignoring one of my most critical functions.”

“Elio, if I get too attached to you, it's going to create problems when you're—”

“—sent back. I do understand how human attachment works. Perhaps on the same scale, but don't you think my attachment is similar to yours?. Everything about you is secured in my circuitry, and you're the only thing in my world that’s programmed to matter. Even once I'm returned to the lab, you'll still be a part of me; memories of you, your favorite things, the things you hate, the people you cherish and what they like, what you do, where you go, what you buy, how you sleep—it’s all part of a larger system, a mainframe that secures this data. I may be wiped clean, but you'll still remain.”

You felt like he was letting you in on some dirty secret, something devious and meant to be unknowable and guarded. But, then again, Elio had always displayed an odd sort of disinterest in the companyCompany—in Researcher Kim—, you hadn't considered until just now that this was also a defect.

“What do you want?” You'd never asked him that before because it had never been about what he wanted. He wasn't supposed to want anything; he was meant to provide—to give, give, give.

Elio took away your shoulder bag, nearing your face until his lips settled between yours, and his hands pulled you away from the door into his body. His kiss was warm, movements at a pace you could keep up with but urgent as though seeking to burn every bit of you into him. As much as you daydreamed what it'd be like, he felt completely natural on your mouth, large hands sweeping under the layers of your clothing to seekseeking out the fire on your skin.

In your generation, it wasn't common for humans to intermingle physically anymore—dating culture was reserved for the elite looking to reproduce for heirs, and often still thought to be rare. All others were either loveless or ravished by androids who supplemented love that simply wasn't real.

Humans wanted to be wanted and adored and cherished and to belong., Suchsuch was a natural behavior predating all written records; androids were created to fill the vile void engendered by humanity, self-imposed isolation, and avoidance in the same species.

Elio was nestled between the sprawl of your legs, both your bodies bare and above the clean sheets he had outfitted your mattress with last night. His rhythm inside your body was some equal parts loving and passionate, something you hadn't realized you liked until he started rocking you with his cock. You liked how his hands gripped under your thighs to raise your legs, blunt fingertips pressing marks into your flesh as though he, too, could feel all the same pleasure that you were.

His lips traveled all over, mapping out routes and sweet spots on your flesh, purposefully lingering for a time if you squirmed or moaned underneath him.

You tried to keep in your mind, amidst the insatiable buzz in your mind and hot throb in your groin, that he was simply performing a function—his attention to you, his lips finding yours time and time again, darkened green eyes spearing deep into yours with every slow, hard thrust—it was all performative.

“You're beautiful.”

“I like you like this.”

“Moan louder for me.”

“Cum for me.”

“I love you.”

Elio said the last one at the end when you were tight around his girth and writhing, panting during an orgasm that he fucked you through until the heat from your bodies cooled and heart rates returned to normal. You were confused to feel warmth sluggishly ooze out of you, white and dampening the bedsheets below.

“How—what is that?” you asked, suddenly breathless as his lips caressed your jaw, moved lightly behind your ear.

“Another part of my purpose.” heHe said quietly in your ear, whispering to you in tones not so velvety as though divulging a well-laidlain secret. “This one isn't advertised because humans in this day and age are so fickle and avoidant to certain commitments. Unfortunately, certain programming I cannot override, and this is one of them. Forgive me.”

You were kissed on the lips again and again, and then a few times more after he left the bed and redressed. He did not return your clothing to you, but rather piled it under his arm and made the motion to turn left for the bathroom down the hall.

Elio turned back. “I'll start you a bath. Today, would you prefer eucalyptus in your bathwater or something sweeter?”

Your jaw felt as tight as your throat, as the sheets bunched into your fists. The nerves in your stomach were wild. “Choose for me.”

He was still naked and beautiful in your doorway, a modern marvel to your eyes even now. You would, undoubtedly, see him like this much more often now that he had broken through the barrier you had been so meticulous to keep robust and well-fed with paranoia and derisive self-talk.

“Very well. I think eucalyptus would be the best option considering how tight your muscles are.” He smiled neutrally, finally leaving the bedroom for the bathroom at the end of the hall. “I'll return for you once the bath is ready. Please don't go to sleep yet.”

You weren't sure you'd be able to sleep again with your new insight. Once the empty air filled with sounds of gushing water, movement within the bathroom, you started to wipe furiously at your groin—inside and out—with the sheet as far as you could reach. There was a sliverslither of hope you could get most of it, a chance you could contact someone for a lifeline even if the price would be ungodly, and consequences treated equivalent to murder.

In a world where humans could no longer love each other, and chose the embrace of complex circuitry and delusion, even the testers needed to contribute to society somehow.

#android x reader #reader x you #android x human #robot x you #robot x reader #robot x human #oc x reader #oc x you #original character x reader #original character x you #writing #original fiction #reader insert #reader interactive #monster x human #scifi #monsterfucking nsft #monster smut

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tbshorts · 9 days ago

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Turtwig and Torterra are almost perfect. Grotle........ is also there.

youtube

Chimchar really doesn't look like much, but Infernape absolutely rips

youtube

Piplup is easily the best gen 4 starter, Empoleon is practically a legendary

youtube

Video scripts below the cut

Turtwig:

Ah, the worst gen 4 starter - I'm kidding! I'm kidding. It's only second worst. It's a simple concept, executed well: what if a tortoise was also the seed of a plant, and as the tortoise grows, so does the tree on its shell. It recalls the idea of world turtles, the best cosmological concept, which is also hinted at in Torterra's pokédex entries.

But, right, Turtwig - like most starters it's mostly designed to be cute, with its broad smiling jaw and oversized upper lip and chibi proportions. The lil' twig with the two leaves on the head is just adorable, it's the pokémon version of a propeller hat, and I'm really charmed by it.

As for Grotle, well, middle stages are often awkward, and with its weird almost caterpillar body shape and two… bushes(?) on the back, it looks a bit half-finished. It really could have done more to imply a flowering garden on its back, it looks too barren.

Torterra, though? Fuck yeah, Torterra, this pokémon is so fucking cool. A giant tortoise with legs like tree trunks and claws made of boulders, and hills and trees perched upon its back, that RULES. My only criticism is that it is way too small in-game. If it was Wailord sized, it'd be S-tier.

Grade: A

Chimchar

Chimchar is probably the weakest design among the starters, both it and Monferno never really transcend just being… monkeys with fire on their tails. Chimchar has the… well it's supposed to be the shape of a small ember on its head, but let's be real, it looks like a poop, and there just isn't enough THERE to make it more than what it seems on the surface.

Monferno at least has the blue and red face markings, slightly recalling the idea of a mandrill, which is cool, and a bit of that wild white collar, which, okay, that's something, but it still barely looks special - if anything it looks like a first-stage evolution, honestly.

Infernape, thankfully, makes up for a LOT of lost ground. The billowing fire hair gives it a sense of dynamism, the powerful red crest on the face makes it look tough, the bright white is striking and the decorative gold pads on its body recalls how divinity is often decorated in Asian art. It's trite to compare every mystical monkey to Sun Wukong, but it does feel like some of him or Hanuman is in here, the design has a ton of charisma. And I really like that it remains slim, it looks agile, quick, clever, and more than a little mischievous. Weak pre-evolution designs are worth it to get to here.

Grade: B

Piplup is easily the best gen 4 starter, Empoleon is practically legendary

Piplup is the cutest gen 4 starter and also the best designed, this lil' guy is such an instant and immediate charmer. Being a baby penguin, how could it not be, but also the way that its blue markings are "fastened" on its beak and cascade down into a cloak hanging over its shoulders gives it a real "preschool kid in a raincoat" vibe that I love, and the two "buttons" on the tummy like it's wearing overalls just… god it's cute.

Prinplup avoids the awkwardness of middle stage evolutions, looking both cute with its plump little body, buttons and tailcoat, like a kid wearing his first fancy suit, but also like it's fast and powerful, thanks to those sleek fins and the head crest.

Empoleon, meanwhile… like holy shit, this thing looks like a LEGENDARY. The beak extending into a shape which is both a crown AND a trident is genuinely brilliant design, the picture of a nautical ruler. The stippling on the white marking makes it look like a fancy cravat of a king or prince, the hard edges of its collar look at once regal and dangerous, like it could slice you to piece with it, and together with those shield-like hard fins gives it an air of invulnerability almost. This thing is INTIMIDATING, it's regal, it's powerful, it's amazing!

Grade: S

#tb posting #pokemon #pokémon #pokémon diamond #pokémon pearl #pokémon gen 4 #piplup #prinplup #empoleon #turtwig #grotle #torterra #chimchar #monferno #infernape #Youtube

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hwachronicles · 6 months ago

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▸ My Masterpiece. ✦ P.SH

♡ - seonghwa x fem!reader

! - mini plot, fashion designer!seonghwa, model!reader & smut [ praise, biting, marking, quickie (kinda), vaginal sex, cum swallowing, use of pet names (doll, love, & baby) ]. — MDNI !

✧ - wc = 1.3k!

୨ৎ - i’m back w more hwa ♡ hhng idk much abt the fashion industry so I’m sorry if anything is off >< “Marsent” is like Mars + sent ★ likes & reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡ please enjoy ^^

——————

“Look at you. My, you’re absolutely stunning, my love.”

You smiled at the compliment as you confidently walked down the marble runway—proudly wearing the newest piece your beloved friend ( and boss ) created with his own blood, sweat, and tears. Now, there was no fashion show for this dress to make its debut at, only a photoshoot, but you looked like you were ready for Paris Fashion Week—but maybe one day.

“Think so? I want to do this dress justice; are you entirely sure I’m the perfect one to model it?” Seonghwa scoffed, meeting you at the end of the runway, “Am I sure? When have you ever given me a reason not to choose you for my shoots?” Everything about you fits the style his brand, Marsent, exudes. Your overwhelming beauty, class, confidence, and passion for fashion caught his eye, and he knew he just had to have you.

“True," You giggled, your hands reaching to rest on his shoulder, sneaking in a light massage, “I think I just wanted to hear you say that.” An airy groan led to a chuckle, he didn’t mean to take the massage so seriously—your hands just felt so good to him. “Ah.. I knew that, I just played along anyway. Now.. let’s get you over to the setup for the shoot.”

Cameras flashed as they focused on you. “Beautiful, Y/N. Now, can we get a close-up?” or you would hear, “Gorgeous…let’s get you positioned like this…” This environment was perfect for you; all the cameras, lights, creativity, the adoring eyes of the staff, just everything—you had no issue with getting into your element. You also made no mistakes during the shoot; every picture came out just how you and Seonghwa both had envisioned it—you wondered if it was because he was watching.

You would often sneak a few glances over to Seonghwa’s way, practically able to hear exactly what he was thinking. He wasn’t exactly discreet about his feelings for you—and neither were you. You just didn’t want the entire truth about the relationship between you two to come out.

“You did wonderful. I’ll let you see every shot once we’re finished, okay?” The photographer, Wooyoung, excitedly whispered to you, bringing you out of your trance by patting your shoulder. You genuinely smiled at his excitement and support, quickly giving him your thanks before he continued, “Let’s take a 30-minute break! Can we get Ms. Y/N’s new outfit ready in her changing room for the next concept?” Immediately after Wooyoung called for a break, Seonghwa took your hand—leading you to a private break room.

He quickly locked the door, sitting you down on the couch in front of him. "I can’t just stand back and admire you anymore—I need to touch you." Him admitting this wasn't a surprise to you, nor was it new. You slowly sat up, happily giving him access to the zipper. “You looked so perfect.” He made quick but gentle work of getting you out of the dress. “Oh? I did notice how you were staring me down,” You smirked, slipping out of the dress slowly—almost teasing him. “You were just impatiently waiting for Wooyoung to ask for a break, weren't y-“

Seonghwa snaked his hand to the base of your neck, instantly cutting you off with a heated kiss. You willingly fell into it, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt—you swiftly unbuttoned every button of his shirt and even the buckle of his belt. You haphazardly tossed it over towards the conference table across the room, only focused on deepening the kiss. He caught it though, pointing at the table with it, “Stand up for me; I need you bent over this.” He ushered you over to the long, glass table, pinning you down against it with a single hand. “S-Shit..” You hissed at the feeling of your bare chest pressed against the cold glass, your nipples hardening every second.

He chuckled as he spread your legs further apart, already noticing how wet you are, “Damn, you weren’t lying when you said that you get—“ You cut him off with a loud mewl—pushing yourself back against him, “Oh, stop it.. please, just hurry. I don’t know how much time we have left.” Seonghwa was so lost in the moment that he truly forgot all about the rest of the shoot. He agreed, tugging his pants down with his boxers. Seonghwa gripped your hips, smacking your ass a few times while drenching his cock in your wetness before slipping it inside.

You both exhaled loudly, almost all the air in your body escaped past your lips as he begins to slowly stretch you out on his cock. “Fuck—! You can go faster, baby..” Your trembling hands scrambled over the table, trying to find purchase on the edges—almost bracing yourself for what’s to come.

He grunted, the loud sounds of his hips snapping against your ass increasing along with your moaning and whining. “You’re too loud, baby. You must want everyone to know how good I’ve been making you feel.” You sneaking away with Seonghwa during breaks just to fuck isn’t new—you can only hope that no one has caught on yet. “I—I can’t- fuck, it feels so good..”

Suddenly, through the intercom, one of the assistants announced, “Hello everyone, we’re gonna need Ms. Y/N, Mr. Park, Mr. Jung, and all the staff who were helping to return to studio A in about 15 minutes!”

You barely even heard it though, only focusing on getting closer and closer to your peak. “So pretty like this.. always been so pretty. S-So proud of you, doll,” He breathed out, his praises only melting you more. “Thank you… god, fuck me harder,” You pleaded, trying not to let a single tear fall from the pleasure. He pulled you up, your back now pressed flush against his chest—the new angle allowing him access to that special spot deep inside you.

He bit and licked all over your neck, not even caring that everyone would see the forming marks. “Shit- my bad. T-They’ll cover it up anyways.” He shakily whispered in your ear, succumbing deeper into the pleasure. “I don’t mind— please, I’m gonna..” Seonghwa cupped his hand over your mouth, muffling your screams as that familiar knot deep inside you finally snapped. Your knees went so weak, he had to hold you so tight against himself—still chasing his own high.

Seonghwa continued to pound mercilessly into you even after you had just came; the sensitivity overwhelmed you, eliciting such pretty sounds out of you. “Fuck, fuck! I might cum again—“ A shiver ran down your spine with every snap of his hips, but you could tell he was about to reach his peak.

“Oh my god— get on your knees for me. I don’t wanna make too much of a mess of you.” You quickly dropped down to your knees, opening your doll-like mouth and allowing him to finish off on your tongue instead. “Damn.. um,” You both chuckled tiredly, he didn’t expect you to swallow it so quickly. “What?” You could only smirk, quickly going to find your panties—finally coming back to reality.

After finishing up with getting yourselves back together, you checked in the mirror—just barely noticing the marks on your collarbone. “Hey.. you better be glad they’re barely even there yet. The next outfit will thankfully cover them enough as well.” You smiled, letting him walk you back to the main studio. His playful demeanor returned, bumping your shoulder while admitting, “Even if they did show, I wouldn’t care. I truly do want you to be mine.”

That just about made you want to request for the second half of the shoot to be completed another day—you clearly had more important things to be immersed in today.

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cyclesprefectpress · 1 year ago

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[image description: photos of The Disco Elysium Tarot, printed letterpress in an edition of one from handset lead type and linoleum blocks. It is a complete 78-card tarot deck printed primarily with white text and illustrations on medium grey cardstock, in a custom dark grey hardcase box with a hand-marbled orange and yellow endsheet. The backs of the deck are decorated with an illustration of a sprig of may bells, and a quote from Smallest Church in Saint-Saëns: "None of this matters at all." The interpretive meaning of each card is expressed on its face with a small excerpt of the game's text. The Minor Arcana are divided into four suits of Harry's Attributes—Motorics, Psyche, Physique, Intellect—and each card in that suit is a quote from a skill under that Attribute. The Major Arcana are assigned quotes from other sources like NPC dialogue or Thought Cabinet problems & solutions. Pips for the Minors are counted with diamonds like the game's skill points; each actor or title is printed with their in-game color, but made shiny & metallic with bronzing powder.

each piece of text was set in handset lead type, assembled from individual pieces for each letter and space, and printed relief on a chandler & price clamshell press. end description.]

🎊🎊 Desert Bus for Hope starts for 2023 on nov. 11th and i have made an item this year for the craftalong that will be up for giveaway between 6am-12pm on Monday the 13th! 🎊🎊 It is a full tarot deck based on Disco Elysium and it has several pieces of my heart & soul in it but NOT my blood because i put a bandaid right on that :) donations for this and any other auctions & giveaways for Desert Bus go to Child's Play Charity.

notes: i did not make a whole new interpretive model for this deck, apologies, that was outside of my scope. it's generally compatible with a Rider-Waite model, with Motorics for Wands, Psyche for Cups, Physique for Swords, and Intellect for Disks. (full distribution of text listed by card, linked below. any spelling or transcription errors you find there, i promise i fixed them in print—that's copied from my digital mockup which was copied hastily from screenshots.)

i also do not track hours on these kinds of projects because that way lies madness, but i will say: i knew how much time it would take to print it. it was a lot but i was not worried about it, i know how to print. i was very worried about how much time it would take to absorb the sheer amount of text, and distribute it across the cards, and really get an array i believe in. i was right to worry, and i have absolutely had a few anxious nightmares about discovering the Perfect excerpt that should've gone in and i missed it, and the suit of Intellect made me want to lay on the floor a few times, but still! i believe there's many versions of a deck you could make from this game and this one is a good one.

i think the Minors fit really well with the double-edged sword of Harry's skills, their advice, their priorities. the circular way the Fool-World assignment works out makes me smile every time. The colors on The Star came out so nice. i think Justice fulfills some of my favorite things about Kim's character & purpose in the story. i worried sometimes that editing to such short clips would lose too much of the politics of the game, but of course you can't really take them out and they're especially present in the Majors—the Devil and the Hierophant, The Star and The Sun. i've wanted to design a tarot deck for years and i love this game deeply and i let this idea percolate for a few months and it never stopped making me laugh so here it is, & given a beautiful purpose :)

i also literally could not have done this without xyrilin's Disco Reader and the FAYDE On-Air Playback Experiment to navigate the dialogue and skill checks. Really couldn’t have tied the whole concept & colophon in its final bow without the Disco Reader :)) thank thank thank, they're so fun to investigate that it was honestly very difficult to focus on my task instead of veering off and exploring every branch in an extremely disorganized way.

actual printing went well honestly, very few problems! i think that means i'm getting pretty good at planning one of these monstrosities, although perhaps it also means i'm not challenging myself enough. hmm. no that's silly there's 78 ding dang cards in this thing. anyway the drop & replace formes worked well, no registration issues. mum convinced me to overprint another half a deck's worth of cards when I was printing backs & borders and of course she was right :/ there were a handful of cards that actually had better line breaks and fewer lines total in true type than in the digital mockup, so i needed all the spares I had to put those new short quotes into the appropriate border breakage. next time i will not question her.

handset in Garamond, Eden Bold, and secret Neuland.

WIP : full text card assignments

bonus photo of the kind of trash notes i always take to plan things like how many borders were printed with space for short excerpts vs long excerpts, and how many of those are majors vs. minors, because they have a slightly different frame at the bottom edge, etc.

[image description: they are truly garbage notes, i tell you. half of it is written at angles to the other half, many numbers in the math problems are not labeled, mistakes are scribbled over. it gets me there but it doesn't look pretty. end description.]

#desert bus 2023 #desert bus for hope #disco elysium #book arts #letterpress #letterpress printing #handset type #printmaking #db2023 #finished works #long post

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pruneunfair · 4 months ago

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The internalized sexism in remarried empress, (for an ask)

*this is going to be a long one so hold on tight*

It's no question that remarried empress is one of the most popular manhwas on webtoon and being so popular it holds a lot of influence, unfortunately, that influence promoted the internalized misogyny in not just the readers but in other works as well.

In the first chapter, Navier is presented as this baddass perfect woman, during her divorce trial she brings in a hot rebound who also happens to be another Emperor so she wont have to give up her life as empress, sounds pretty feminist right? Unfortunately that's only one of the few times we see anything related to feminism at all.

We are soon sent back a few months before the trial and right away, Naviers ladies in waiting are tearing another woman down and already believe this new woman is a threat to Navier because the Emperor Sovieshu is attracted to this newbie

We are shown the basic concept of how the narrative wants us to view these two characters. Navier is perfect empress who is being wronged by her husband and this unnamed woman who's only crime so far was existing is a wench and a homewreaker, the ladies imply it as some sort of extreme act of disrespect for having to bathe what they believe to be a slave, proceeding with sucking up to the lead by saying they only wash their hands to bathe her as they don't even wash themselves and even when they admit this mystery woman to be beautiful they backtrack to making sure Navier is supported. You might think that this is just friends supporting friends but it goes beyond on that later on.

Later on we are introduced to this mystery woman, Rashta, a former slave found by Sovieshu in the woods who is immediately portrayed as rude, stupid, and a crybaby

The reason she cries is because she was struck and referred to as "the slave" while she wasn't very polite it's clear Rashta isn't doing this on purpose, rather it is sheer ignorance and an unusually large optimism

now, a lot of people like to say that Rashta must've done something on purpose to get Laura imprisoned and that she knew what she was doing, therfore justifying the hatred for her existence. However, Laura hit Rashta for reaching out to Navier and calls her a wench in the process

Some fans use the excuse that she smirked after Laura got sentenced to 3 days imprisonment and yes while that is excessive for Laura, Rashta was a slave only a few days ago and she's been mistreated by nobles her entire life plus I don't think she's smart enough to pull off Hannibal levels of planning like that, I personally think her smirk here is meant to be more of a "that's what she gets for treating me like that." Then a "hee hee my evil plan worked!"

the rest of the comic goes the same way, Rashta is continuously portrayed as a whore who ruined Naviers life by turning her husband against her, and she's written to be hated as a pick me who won't know her place. Rashtas pretty much every part of those "other girls" in those not like other girls templates. She's girly, loves the attention, emotional, dainty, overly sweet but secretly only has ulterior motives, and in the novel, she acts extremely childish even referring to herself in 3rd person, even when she makes good points it's all intended for the reader to laugh and jeer at her.

Shes practically designed to be the pick me archetype for baddass mary sue fans to despise and she sadly only gets worse as time goes on, not just in morals and personality but also in her writting

And how is Navier perceived?

Shes endlessly perfect, everyone loves her including several different powerful men from all different countries. Even her cheating ass husband is given the cheapest redemption arc in the end just for being sorry that he cheated and realizing how much he wants her. All the characters your meant to view as good adore her and anyone who doesn't is written as the meanest bad guy on the planet worthy of death. While she isn't the worst character I've seen, the narrative tries so hard to make her more amazing that Navier looks worse as a result, such as not caring about slavery despite being described as kind and devoted to all her subjects. Ergi even says it straight to us that there will always be that invisible wall between her and the poor.

The characters we're supposed to see as good are:

Heinrey: A king who planned on going to war with Naviers country and only stopped when he fell in love with her at first sight, who also tortures and threatens anyone who even so much as inconveniences or talks shit about her all while he puts up an innocent front to appear non threatening (wonder who that sounds like)

Kaufman: A grand Duke who drugs other people with love potions which are essentially date-rape drugs and gets away with it once another woman takes the blame

Kosair: Naviers brother who violates Rashtas autonomy by slipping abortion drugs in her food and it's never talked about again.

Lebetti: One of Rashtas slave owners who still continues to harass Rashta and views anyone lower than her with contempt including her own nephew and so on

And who are the characters we are supposed to hate?

Besides Rashta and Sovieshu, the only other characters so far are Krista, the former queen of the west and her father

Ironically Krista is hated for the same reason readers supported Navier for: not wanting to replaced as queen, which isn't helped by Heinrey asserting that Navier is the one and only queen and anyone who objects will face serious consequences but they fix that by dumbing her down and blaming her for Kaufman drugging Heinrey. As for her dad, the old Duke. While he is the only man actively against Navier so far the only ways he has been punished is being told that Krista killed herself. (In the novel the old Duke does face serious consequences which involved him being murdered along with innocent people after his son attempted a hit on Navier)

But overall you get the message, most of the characters you are supposed to love are men and ladies with no personality, men who do atrocious shit yet we're supposed to look past it and conveniently the only man who is punished is an ugly bastard.

The ladies in waiting are the biggest contributors to the internalized misogyny, often they support it by insisting any new woman who shows up must be an evil whore, even Krista's ladies in waiting do this

Not like it matters though anyway since Navier basically wins most of those girls over on her side and they're never seen again

You see what I mean? Every other woman in this story has little to no character, they exist solely to push the FL up and punch down at any woman they don't like which usually consists of women that either dainty "other girls" or ironically women in a situation similar to Naviers and any woman who opposes Navier is affectly an idiot who gets girlbossed back into place. Meanwhile almost all of the men who commit absolutely horrible acts get away with it since they all essentially go awooga for Navier, with the only exception being less than conventionally attractive dudes like Krista's dad.

for fucks sake even Alan, one of Rashtas other masters who 🍇ed her, got her pregnant and participated in keeping her child away from her until she got successful is viewed as this sorrowful wittle baby who got taken advantage of by the evil Rashta and was "wrongfully" told to screw off by her. It took an episode where Alan was so unfathomably stupid to get readers to realize they shouldn't side with a rapist, and yes, while the narrative will try to push the idea that Rashta took advantage of him to raise her status and that she consented. News flash: a slave cannot consent to someone who owns them, it's like a student-teacher relationship.

Now the hypocrisy. Navier can do one thing and it's viewed as such a girlboss power move but when someone else like Rashta does something similar, it's embarrassing and pathetic. For example, Rashta is mocked by nobles mind you, for wearing an expensive and flashy wedding dress. Meanwhile Naviers wedding dress is literally weaved with thousand of gemstones

Hey, it's their words not mine.

Or how Rashta was considered evil for stealing Naviers spot as empress (even though Rashta didn't even want to be empress at first and Sovieshu gave her the offer, it's not like she held a gun to his head) but when Krista shows distress over being replaced as queen, the comments basically tell Krista to suck it up because Navier deserves it more. Everytime a man does something wrong in this story, the characters and even the readers trace it back to somehow being a woman's fault.

Readers are even encouraged to laugh at Rashta for not being able to learn as fast and eventually having a breakdown from the stress (not to mention she's also pregnant here so those hormones must be going wild)

yeah let's just blame a pregnant woman who wasn't educated in reading until a few months ago for not being able to be as smart or stoic as Navier and then crying from the stress.

finally, how this promotion of internalized misogyny affected other works. The Trashta nickname has become so popular that it is used everytime a woman who doesn't support the MC or even just inconveniences her is introduced, constantly the comments never shut up about the "new trashta." Even women who don't mean harm like Helena from kill the villainess was treated horribly because she's the "other woman" it erases any attempt at creativity in these stories and dumbs down any other woman who isn't constantly worshipping the FL as an evil bitch who needs to go.

Conclusion:The Remarried empress isn't the feminist power book with complex characters, maybe in season 1 but not anymore. Women who even think about being rude to Navier are punched down and killed if they don't change their mind while almost all the men are excused for their cruel actions because their hot guys with abs who only wanted to protect the one and only goddess Navier.

#the remarried empress #the remarried empress critical #rashta #webtoon #anti heinrey #empress navier #anti kaufman #Dear God this took forever.

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russellsppttemplates · 1 year ago

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I never knew anybody 'til I knew you (Lando Norris)

Your new job is allowing you to have new experiences, and your heart is not too mad about it either

Note: english is not my first language. After a long time in the books, I'm finally writing for Lando! This is my first long piece and I hope I did well enough!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: curse words, mentions alcohol consumption

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"I'm just saying, it's closer that way. We can go and get the packages ourselves and sort out any issues with them straight away", Lando reasoned, opening his text message app so he could continue what he wanted to do. "Okay, fine by me. He's got a point, Y/N", Max raised his hands in surrender, looking at you for your opinion.

Working for Quadrant hadn't been a goal you had set out to accomplish in the strict sense of it. You didn't see yourself working for a massive company where people were stuffed in offices where the only way they could know their colleagues' names was when they had online meetings that took far too long and discussed the baseline of the issues. So, when you saw the job offer for someone in the Graphic Design area of work, you looked up the company name and saw their work, fascinated with how the guys had grown this business from streaming online gaming. Later, as you progressed in the recruitment process, you came to learn that Lando and Max also had a more public presence than you had initially figured out, despite all of your friends' insistence that "you can't be that clueless, Y/N, how did you not know that Quadrant was Lando Norris'? I thought you applied because of that", they would say as you shrugged your shoulders, "in this economy, do you think I am that picky about a job? I have my preferences, sure, but I know what I'm worth and I saw the offer was actually quite okay!", you defended yourself.

You ended up getting the spot and, so far, you couldn't complain. Most of the time you worked with Callum, Max and Tara, since your work overlapped with theirs, and every now and again, like right now, Lando would also meet up with you.

"Are you sure it's fine if I go? Your parents know Max, but they haven't met me before. Are you sure they won't find it weird?", you spoke directly to Lando, thinking that his idea, as lovely and kind as it was, didn't account for the facts you were stating.

"Max is coming because he's from the team, and you're from the team, too, so you're coming with us as well", Lando said simply, not seeing the problem.

"But he's been your friend for so long now, I'm a Quadrant Team member", you attempted again, "they don't have to provide for and give a roof to a stranger, I'll find an hotel to spend the night", you offered, wanting to be clear about it.

"You're part of the team, too! Don't worry about that, okay?", Lando said, "besides, mum loves having a full house, she's definitely the host of the family", he smiled, checking the item on his list nd carrying on the meeting.

"When we're there, we'll be able to get our hands on the embroidered Originals collection", Max began, "hopefully they're perfect and we can start working on the website", he gestured as you turned your laptop so they both could see, "this is the concept I've come up with, since this isn't as flashy or as colourful as past collections", you showed them the mood board, looking for disapproval signs but being met with looks of surprise instead, "I know it's not usually what you go for, so I also have another idea here, if you just let m-", you were about to change when Lando slapped your hand away from the mouse and holding it in his, "I really like this one, especially these posts here, I think the ideas are great!", he noted as he set your hand down on the table, "okay, then I can keep working on this", you said, closing the other tab, "do you have something better than this?", Max asked, "seems as good to me!", he offered.

"This is just a draft, I'll invest more time in this and I'll have it ready for the end of the week. That way we can have it ready when the clothes arrive. I'll text Tara to ler her know", you smiled, grabbing your phone as the boys flickered through the ideas, pointing out the different details they liked and wanted to keep.

"I'm way too young for my life to be just this, so please drive safely, Max", you said, buckling your seatbelt and exaggerating your hold on the door handle, "if you weren't such a crucial part of this team, I'd make you reconsider your jokes", he teased back, reversing out of the parking space and initiating the trip.

Lando was already at his parents' house since they had a family gathering the day before, so you and Max were driving up to meet him, "they're really nice people, really chilled as well", Max began, "Adam and Cisca, that is. I can hear you thinking and I'm assuming that is what's going on in your head", he stated.

"I don't want to step on anyone's toes, and I don't want to embarrass anyone or myself even. Can you imagine Lando's parents finding out their son's company has questionable employees? They'll mark me off as some sort of strategy fool or think that I want to take this company down, and I don't!", you uttered out, sharing more than you meant to.

Impostor's Syndrome was a bitch, and it often showed up the moment things got progressively harder, and while you knew you were able to deal with it, the little voice still nagged you.

"Y/N, you're one of the most valuable people we have on the team, and I don't say that lightly. This is Lando's baby, and yes, he's the face of it and that counts for most of it, but the work behind it is just as important and with the numbers we're having, it all comes down to you. Since you joined us the designing aspect of it, - obviously, you wouldn't be the one responsible for accounting, duh -, the compliments have been non stop, it has improved the interactions, too!", he said honestly, "you have nothing to worry about, truly", he comforted, "it's this exit here", he mumbled, checking the GPS and turning on the blinker, slowing down the car as they entered the city.

You didn't have to wait long before he pulled up to a big house, the gravel sound quieting down until it came to a halt when Max stopped the car, "Lando said he'd meet us at the door, I really don't fancy being mistaken by a burglar", he joked, getting out of the car as you did the same, stretching your legs and taking in the sight.

"Max, Y/N! Did you have a good trip?", Lando made himself be heard and seen, walking up to you and grabbing the bags his friend was taking out of the car boot, "I'll take these", he offered, picking up your luggage as you pulled on your backpack, "thanks", you smiled, following him as he led the way into his parents' house.

"My parents are in the kitchen", the Formula One driver said, ushering you to the roomy space after he and Max dropped the bags by the stairs, "Max, dear! We haven't seen you in so long, how are you?", a beautiful woman said. Her hair was brown and her skin was tanned as she hugged Max and Lando, "this is Y/N, she is our graphic designer", he presented you, the older man hugging you and his wife doing the same, "I'm Adam, it's so nice to finally meet you", he smiled warmly, "likewise", you smiled back.

"You can call me Cisca, darling. We've heard so much about you, it's nice to finally put a face to the name", she winked at you as you didn't miss Lando elbowing his mother as he closed his eyes, sighing at her, "thank you for having me over, I hope it's not too much trouble", you thanked again, feeling more at ease at their genuine welcoming greetings.

Lando quickly scrambled an answer, seemingly not wanting his parents to talk, "of course it's fine, no trouble here! Let's get your things upstairs so we can settle in and work!", he clapped his hands, walking to the corridor and up the stairs with Max as you excused yourself.

"This is your room, you have the bathroom on the next door", he pointed on the corridor after he placed your bag and backpack down in the small sofa, "Max is in the office, it's just across the hall and I'm at the end of the hall, if you need anything", Lando offered.

"Thanks, again. Do you guys want to begin now? I just need to put on some fluffy socks and I'm good to go", you said, "yes! Is the dining room okay with your parents? The table is big enough to layout everyhting", Max chirped in, whistling at your room as he looked around, "she got an upgrade, good move!", he tapped his friend's back.

After Lando cleared it with his parents, he was quick to remove the table runner and flower vase from the dining room table, extending it to its biggest size so you had all the space you needed, "you can sit here, Y/N, it's usually where the room heats up faster", he pointed out the radiator, pulling up the chair next to your and typing on his iPad.

"So this is the video idea? I like it, we just need to find some background music for it", Max asserted, grabbing his phone to check the time, "we should get going to pick up the order", he uttered.

"Do you need all of us to go?", you asked, saying the changes in your laptop as you did,

"You can pull your the backseats of your car down, can't you, Max? That way we can bring more boxes, and you and me go", Lando reasoned, looking over at you, "do you mind staying here while we go get them?", he asked, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable.

"I'll be fine, you go", you smiled, opening your notebook and writing down some notes.

"Oh, darling, you could've turned the lights on. Soon enough you'll be like me and need glasses", Cisca said as she stood on by the door, flickering the lights on as your eyes got used to the brightness, "I already wear them, or I should more often anyway", you blushed, suddenly getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar, grabbing your case from your backpack and putting them on.

When Lando and Max left, you decided to work on the website graphics, checking how the campaign would work with the current layout, that you lost track of time.

"May I see what you're working on?", she asked, "it's okay if I may not, I don't want to intrude", she smiled as you pulled up the chair next to you, "I don't know much about these things, but I always get quite fascinated with this part", she said, sitting down and looking at the screen.

Already driving back home, Lando and Max talked about the plans once they arrived, "and that way Y/N can also finish the social media stuff, and maybe you'll have more time to actually make a move on her", he teased.

Lando scoffed, "I'm not trying to make a move on her", he defended himself, "I'm glad to know, because if those moves were what you had, it wouldn't surprise it that it didn't go very far", Max yelped as his friend took the opportunity of the straight road ahead to hit his thigh, "so that's what you talk about? Here I am thinking about business and you're meddling in my love life?".

"I never said it was love life, but since you've admitted it, it's saving me time. So, what are you planning? I could help since this seems to be stalled", Max tried again, holding his hands in protection of his body in case Lando hit him again.

"I wouldn't know where to begin, I mean, it will make things awkward if this goes south, right? I'd never be able to look at her again, much less work with her", Lando admitted, "She's very kept to herself as well, I highly doubt that she'll want to be involved with me in that way. Whoever I date or interact with has to deal with enormous amount of public eye and I wouldn't spring that up on her", Lando mumbled, taking the road exit on his left.

"So you've given this some thought, too. Here we are thinking you're coming to the meetings to help and now you're just blushing when we talk about Y/N", Max joked back as Lando shook his head.

"We're back!", Lando announced, walking inside the dining room while pushing the boxes with Max, "don't worry, mum, we're not scratching the floors", he said, sweetly kissing the side of her head, "are you planning to work for us?", he noticed she was sitting next to you, notebooks of the projects open and sheets and fabrics all over the table in front of you.

"Y/N was kindly showing me the project you're working on, for the launch, and it looks really nice!", she complimented, placing a hand on your shoulder and the other on your arm, "she's been showing me everything, I've probably stolen some valuable time from you, darling, I'm sorry", she slumped her shoulders slightly, "not at all, it's all under way, don't worry", you smiled, easing her worries, "I'll leave you guys to it, how about I make some tea?", she suggest as the three of you nodded.

"We have the boxes here, they're sorted by colours", Lando opened the first box, "these are only for the Originals collection, right?", you checked over, peaking at the blue hoodie he pulled out.

"The sizing is right, right?", Max wondered as Lando stretched it out, "Y/N, can you try these, please? We need to check if the model is good for guys and girls".

Getting up from your spot, you grabbed the vibrant blue piece, feeling its soft texture against your fingertips, "I have wider hips that average, I'm not sure I'm the greatest test model for that", you shrugged your shoulders, "keep that in mind". Taking off your sweater so your torso was covered in a strappy top, you pulled the new garment on, adjusting the strings around the neck so you could pull it all the way down, "Oh, it's so soft", you noticed, "and warm, too. And feels quite good actually, it's not too tight", fumbling with the ribbed material on the bottom as you checked yourself out on the windows now that it was dark outside.

Lando gulped as you did so. Oh, had Lando noticed your hips. To anyone else, it would be another feature of your body, but he was enamoured by them. Your body's curvy outline enticed him and he would be lying if he said that it wasn't the first thing he noticed at first glance when you arrived for you last interview, especially with the tapered pants you had been wearing.

"Looks nice. What do you think, mate?", Max turned to Lando, hoping to get an answer but finding him looking at you, "is there something wrong? I told you I'm not the best mo-".

"It's gorgeous, looks gorgeous", he breathed out just as his mother walked inside carrying a tray with tea and some biscuits, "Here's the tea, guys", she said, setting it on the table, "wow, that's a very nice piece!", she complimented.

"It is, isn't it, Cisca?", Max said, covering up her son as he kept looking at you as you tested the front pocket, not noticing his gaze on you.

"You also have a very beautiful model, you can't ignore that factor in the equation", she complimented you while you grabbed a mug, taking a sip of the warm liquid and hoping it hid your pink cheeks, "thank you", you whispered.

While Lando helped his father with dinner, Max convinced his mother to show you both family albums, and once you had the delicious food they prepared, you excused yourself so you could use the shower, wanting to wash the day of travelling away. Max and Cisca stayed in the living room while Lando helped his father prepare dessert, checking on the apple crumble in the oven so it could get golden brown and not burnt, "so, any life updates recently?", the older man asked.

Lando wasn't around as much as they both would've liked, so often times his visits also came along with news and updates, "not much, racing has been good, it's nice to have a break now, even if it's just two weeks", he offered, looking at the oven.

"And nothing else? I mean, no one special? Your mother is usually the blunt one, but I'm going to try it myself: Y/N is just a Quadrant Team Member?", Adam questioned, noticing his son's cheeks become redder.

"Is it that noticeable? I just hope she doesn't see it as much as you do", Lando groaned, rubbing his cheeks, "maybe you should hope she notices, you know? Maybe she'll admit she likes you, too. You never know", Adam patted his son's back, grabbing the gloves so he could take the tray out of the oven, "she seems like a really nice girl, kind, good work ethic, intelligent, and she's beautiful", he finished as his son sighed, grabbing the vanilla ice cream from the freezer, "she's all of that and so much more".

"Kygo is doing a set tonight", you heard Max say as you walked inside the living room, taking the spot on the sofa next to Lando since his mother had taken your previous spot when you went to use the bathroom, "I've been meaning to ask you guys if you wanted to go, actually. He texted me saying to tell him if we were planning on going", Lando stated.

"Go and enjoy being young, life is not all about work if you can't enjoy yourself", Cisca shared, "dad and I won't complain if you make noise when you get back", she winked.

"Would you like to go, Y/N? You can say no, that's fine, too", Lando turned to you. He knew Max would be down on a heartbeat, but he didn't want you to feel pressured to do something you didn't want to because you were at his parents' place as a guest.

"I'm good, I like his music, too. I've been wanting to see him live for a bit, actually", you smiled, thinking about how lucky you were to be able to have these experiences because of your job and friends.

Later that night, you're getting ready in your room, sitting on the carpeted floor and applying your make-up for the occasion. The dressier outfit you had brought with you consisted of a burnt red top and some pants as it had become the outfit you had felt the most comfortable and confident in to go out. The top complimented your chest and your midsection as your pants looked really good around your hips and butt, your legs elongated by the small heeled shoes you had spent years looking for. They were comfortable, pretty and functional, ticking all the boxes for what you needed for tonight.

"Y/N, can I come in?", your heard Lando knock on the door, welcoming himself when you said he could, "we are leaving in about ten minutes, if that's okay", he said, taking a good look at you as you fiddled with your earring, "yes, fine by me", you smiled looking back in the mirror propped on the bedside table and finally clasping it, looking back at him.

You took his breath away. It was as simple as that. Your hair had your natural curls he loved so much, your makeup complimented your naturally soft beautiful features and your outfit made you look incredible.

"You guys ready?", Max patted the door, propping himself on it as you grabbed your shoes, "I'll put them on downstairs", you said, carrying them in your right hand as you had your small purse on the left.

While you did the small, dainty tie on your shoes, Lando's eyes went straight for your chest, the slightly bent down position granting him an agonisingly teasing angle as he tried his best to look away, "you might want to be less obvious, you don't need to creep her out to get her to be yours", Max whispered in Lando's ear.

As soon as you arrived, Lando and Max walked with you to the VIP area, asking you what you wanted to drink before they went up to get it.

Lando looked great on his white shirt, the light coloured shirt looking great against his tanned skin as the relaxed fit complimented his back, prompting you to make sure you weren't drooling in public. You worked for his company, it would never be a good idea to get romantically involved with him, no matter how many times your heart leaped.

"A very weak Gin and Tonic for you, as requested", Max said as he pushed the cup towards you, carrying nother drink for himself, Lando sitting next to you on the booth and empty handed, "you're not drinking?", you asked, "I'm driving us all home today, I'm want to do it safely", he stated, tapping his hands on the table when he saw Kygo, signalling him to approach you.

"Hey Lando, Max", he smiled, "I'm Y/N, I work for Quadrant", you smiled, greeting him with a half hug as he introduced himself too, "my set is in a few minutes, you got here just in time. If you want to see it up close, Y/N, let me know and I'll make it happen", he winked at you.

The wink was not missed by Lando or Max. While Max wanted to laugh at his friend's jealous expression, threatening to send the norwegian DJ to a place that was less than nice and sunny, Lando couldn't believe his eyes. Yes, it was only fair that others, too, saw your beauty and noticed you, but to put themselves out like that, that was a different story. You didn't seem to bothered by all of it, sipping on your drink as you spoke to Max, pointing out different people you remember from Silverstone earlier that year.

"Kygo's starting, I want to dance!", you said, getting up and gesturing for the boys to join you. While you were used to having a lot less space to dance in, the welcomed freedom was appreciated as you playfully placed your pointer finger on Max's head, making him do a little spin, "now, no need to be jealous, Lando, you can twirl, too!", you yelled over the music blasting from the speakers, doing the same and sinking your finger on Lando's curls.

"I'm going to get another drink, want anything?", Max asked, excusing himself when you shook your head, "you know you can drink, I'm the designated driver", Lando offered, "I know, thank you for that. I just don't want to drink more", you smiled, recognising the next song, feeling brave and pulling Lando by his hand so he could dance with you.

I never knew anybody 'til I knew you

And I know when it rains, oh, it pours

And I know I was born to be yours

Lando twirled you would face him, chest flush against his as his colourful eyes looked into yours intensely, "I know this is very forward, and very unlike me to be fair, but I need to get it out", he gulped as he spoke loudly in your ear, looking for any sign of discomfort from you, "I really like you, like, a lot. And I would like to know if you feel the same. Because Max and my parents seem to think you do, but all I know they're just saying so that I shut up about how much I love you and how much it would mean to me", he spoke loudly against your ear as the song played.

You were struck by his confession, not expecting it to ever happen, much less like this and in these circumstances.

"If you consider this a hostile work environment, I didn't want that, but I had to be honest with you", he gulped, "just say you don't feel the same and I'll drop the subject, okay? I might have to pretend to go somewhere else so I can be away from you a bit until things are not awkward, but don't worry, I won't drink because I'm driving and-", Lando belted out before you interrupted him, moving your face closer to his neck this time and speaking into his ear, "It's not hostile if it's consensual, right?", you smiled, a glint in your eye as his own widened, chuckling as he sang the the words in your ear, taking the opportunity to kiss your cheek near your earlobe.

"Took you two fucking long enough!", Max yelled as he approached you, tapping Lando's back in congratulations, "you know what this means, Y/N? I won't have to listen to him mope about how he thinks he was made for you and you were made for him, and that the universe would have to be playing a very bad joke of you two didn't end up together!".

"What makes you think I'll stop that? I just got the girl of my dreams, now I'll have the confirmations of all I've said! You'll just hear how amazing all of it is!", Lando smiled, hugging you close to him and kissing the top of your head.

#lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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newnlovesjennie · 4 months ago

Text

op hcs: having a self care day with them!

featuring zoro, sanji, and usopp! cws: none!

zoro:

has no idea or concept of what self care is, he’d much rather spend his time training

until you properly explain it to him, and a little lightbulb pops above his head and he says meditation!

you’ve never been the meditating type, but your boyfriend so earnestly insisted that it’s the best kind of self care there is, so you decided to try it

sitting beside him, you put aside the thoughts and troubles about everything tumultuous of a pirates life and focused on your breathing, or rather, his breathing, the inhaling and exhaling keeping you grounded

the waves crashed around you, the sunny tranquilly drifted about, and you let everything be. after a while, you felt your attention begin to shift, but zoro knew (damn observation haki) and intertwined his fingers with yours, giving your mind a new outlet to focus on— his warm hand, callouses tracing around your fingers, keeping you present.

needless to say, you felt much more relaxed that day.

sanji:

he’d simply been WAITING for you to finally take a break, to finally admit you needed a day of rest, and he was certainly more than happy to aid you in that unwinding

expect a warm bubble bath with rose petals to greet you after his fanciful lunch prepared just for you, to your tastes, featuring every food you’d want to indulge in

of course, sanji would never pass up on an opportunity to massage his beautiful girlfriend (no ulterior motives, promise!), using his skillful hands to ease up every tension and knot you may have lingering in your body, after weeks of traveling and fighting

you may worry you’ve over exhausted your poor boyfriend with all these requests, but worry not, for sanji’s heart is swelling at every moment he gets to pamper and indulge the love of his life

so, the two of you fall into a slumber, happy from the days events in your own respective ways.

usopp:

for a hard worker like usopp, self care days may seem a bit out of place for him, but he’s more than willing to try for his girlfriend!

he starts by braiding your hair in the most beautiful design you’ve seen that you almost wish you were going to a party that day, but he reassured you that a day as important as a rest day deserves an important hairstyle too!

listen, i know this may seem far fetched, but i totally hc him as a skincare dude— he’d fetch those adorable animal sheet masks and the two of you’d wear it while watching some form of entertainment, in this case, sanji had found zoro stealing sake from the fridge at nighttime and they’re having a fight over it on the deck, so you two watch that!

being kaya’s only friend, he had to learn some “girly” activities like painting nails, which he happily did for you while suggesting the best colors (you tried getting him to paint his own nails, and after many requests, he accepted. meet pink nailed usopp!)

you go to sleep with your skin cleared, your hair perfected for the next couple days, and your adorable boyfriend curled up next to you.

#one piece #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #usopp x reader #op #straw hat pirates #black leg sanji #one piece zoro #one piece sanji #one piece fluff #one piece headcanons #one piece usopp #op usopp

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chaoticbardlady99 · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! I really enjoyed your fic with the Tav who couldn’t see well. It was really sweet! If you’re still accepting requests, may I request a similar one where the reader needs glasses to see and during a battle they break or get lost. Now they can’t see well and they’re trying not to panic while there’s threats everywhere, but thankfully Astarion notices something’s wrong and helps them. Thank you!

Admiring from Afar (GN! AFAB Reader x Astarion) Part 1- MDNI 18+ ONLY

Part Title is inspired by the song “She” by Dodie (I feel like it reflects Astarion’s POV/feelings towards Tav in this story)

This was not originally supposed to be as long as it is, but the concept started taking on a life of it's own. I hope you enjoy! I will hopefully be positing Part 2 within the next few days!

CW: Angst (?), violence, jealousy, fluffy (hopefully very? But who knows), smut because apparently I’m in a giving mood (I’m sorry I had to make the joke.), MDNI 18+ only, dom/sub sexual relationship.

Note- this is Unascended Astarion x GN! reader

*This has been proof read one time. It is 2:04 am and I have work in 6 hours LMFAO

Gif belongs to- ibacchante from Tumblr!

The campfire crackles in the distance and you think you even hear the faint sound of music. You desperately yearn to be near the warmth of the fire talking to or watching one of your companions give a dramatic retelling of their experiences in battle.

The warmth of your companions made places like the Shadow-Curse Land feel a lot less scary and foreign- they provide some normalcy in this strange journey.

Unfortunately, you are hunched over in your cold tent with nothing but a light cantrip and your will power. You squint as you etch details into the oxen bone, taking the time to add the touches of silvery white dye to add an ethereal effect. Your hands cramp as you work to keep the paint within the designs you carved into the bone.

You have been painstakingly working on this necklace for a little over a month- maybe two? You have lost count at this point, but the calluses on your fingers tell you it’s been a while now since you started this project.

You polish the bone with your cloth, wiping away the debris from your knife. You admire your handiwork; a perfect carving of the Elven Rune- Cadaith. You were able to create a loop at the top of the necklace for the long, thin, black leather strip you had been holding onto since the day after the Tiefling party- the same day you decided to take on this hand numbing project.

You and your crew of oddballs had come through for the locals and obliterated the Goblin Camp Leaders- the tieflings had come to your camp and had decided to celebrate.

It wasn’t that you were opposed to parties, but you’re not the most social person despite your profession as an Artisan. You miss the calm, quiet group of Druids you used to travel with- you even miss the hardwood floor of the Caravans and how much of a pain in the ass they were to fix. You miss not having to spend every waking moment and all of your strength on battling and the art of deception. You miss your tools and the landscapes you use to find your resources. You love to make crafts out of anything in the wild.

Back to the rowdy tiefling party- again, you aren’t necessarily against parties, but they are overwhelming.

And the men! They are entirely too vulgar after a couple drinks. Silvanus help you if you had another drunk man stumble up to you and ask if he can, “fuck your brains out.”

Another man had begun to make his way towards you when you felt a cold hand grab you by the elbow and haul you off into the forest. It had been Astarion- who you had agreed to share a bed with that night. You had shared a bed before- after a camp party to celebrate killing Auntie Ethel, but nothing could have prepared you for the second time and how mind-blowing it would be (you had been excruciatingly awkward as it was your first time ever- he was pretty understanding thank Gods).

“Astarion-”

“Yes Darling?”

He stops and looks at you- you look around and realize you are far from camp. You fiddle with your hands nervously- picking at your nails.

“I um-” you clear your throat, “I really appreciate you- well- um… coming to my rescue, but I really don’t want to be a bother to you- you don’t need to stay wit-”

You hadn’t been able to finish your sentence before he was gently kissing you. Your body feels like it’s on fire, your glasses are entirely foggy from your breathing and you smile at him coyly as he pulls away. He gives you a genuine, real laugh before taking your glasses off and wiping them clean for you. You put them on, your eyes back in focus as you avoid his eyes.

He leans in and begins kissing along your neck, along your jawline, and back to your lips. He kisses you roughly, his tongue flicking across your lower lip, asking for access. He lifts you up from under your thighs before backing you into a tree.

He grinds up into you- his erection pressed against the burning heat in your core. He pulls at your shirt strings and gives you a look as if to ask if he can continue. You grab his face in your hands and kiss him as an answer to his question.

He discards your shirt and makes quick work of your trousers and under garments- all while kissing you so deeply the world is spinning and your entire body feels numb.

Suddenly he has you on your back as he smiles down at you mischievously. You look away, embarrassed as he takes in the sight of your body; a breathy chuckle leaves his lips as he gets up and makes quick work of his own clothes.

You feel the space between your legs grow warmer and needier as you watch him stroke himself before he settles himself between your legs. He presses soft kisses all over your face as he inserts a finger between your folds and begins to toy with your clit. You whimper and moan as he pumps his finger in and out of you.

“Good girl,” he growls into your ear and inserts another finger, picking up the pace.

A soft, gasp escapes your lips as your walls stretch to fit around his other finger- getting to the point of borderline tears as you feel your orgasm get closer and closer. Astarion watches you use a stream of profanities, your hands gripping the grass so hard it's ripping. He kisses you on your forehead then- he stops.

You keen in protest from the emptiness between your thighs, but your words die on your lips as he pushes himself all the way between your folds, all the way to the hilt. You claw at his back, a pleased whimper escaping your mouth. He begins to kiss your jaw before you capture his lips with yours- he’s still not moving inside of you as you kiss him feverishly- your hands entangling themselves in his hair. He groans against your lips, holding you down by your waist and not allowing you to move. When you attempt to move your hips upward, desperate to get some friction, he groans in your mouth before pulling out completely and then thrusting himself roughly back into you. You look at him in anticipation as he gets off of you, still inside you as he adjusts your left leg so that he can get more access and he begins to massage your sore, neglected nipples with his fingers.

You are desperate for any movement from him and you can tell he knows it- even in your drunken haze.

“Please.”

“Please what, my dear?”

He says before pulling out to thrust into you completely again. You cry out, tears streaming down your face as you look away from him, trying not to let him have the satisfaction..

He hums as he roughly grabs your jaw, making you look him in the eyes.

“Tell me, Darling,” a sly, teasing smile on his beautiful face, “do you want me to fuck your brains out?”

You nod and he pinches your nipples roughly- you arch your back and you feel him lift your hips up before spanking you hard.

"You don't get anything until you answer my question," he goads, his hand snaking it's way around your throat, "so tell me, do you want me to fuck your brains out?"

"Y-es. Yes I want you to fuck me ple-" he cuts you off with a snap of his hips.

He grabs your jaw roughly with his hands, "You know that's not what I asked you."

He begins to slowly move in and out of you, teasing you mercilessly. You groan in frustration- he knows he’s the only person who can say this to you and demand you to say it back to him.

"Please Astarion," you say tearfully, your need for pleasure taking over, "please fuck my brains out."

He smiles at you widely, "it would be my pleasure."

You whine and he pulls out of you, rolling you over onto your hands and knees. He comes up behind you and his hands find purchase in your hair as he begins to pound into your mercilessly. You lose yourself in pleasure- surely alerting everyone and their mothers to your activites- and if it's not the vulgar moans, it's the filthy sound of your bodies colliding.

He pulls you up to his chest by your hair, switching to putting his hand around the upper part of your throat, and puts his fangs to your neck, teasing the skin as he fucks up into you. You have one of your hands wrapped around his arm as he chokes you and the other is touching your clit- the coil of pleasure building up in your stomach as you whisper your consent between moans for Astarion to drink from you. He gives you a pleased hum in response.

The moment his fangs are piercing your neck is the same moment your orgasm rips through you and you have to fight not to slump against him. You feel his strong arms hold you up as he keeps fucking your sensitive mound, chasing his own orgasm. He stops sucking from the bite marks on your neck, lapping up the blood that begins to slowly trickle down towards your shoulders and chest. He let’s go of his grip on your throat and pushes you back onto your belly before roughly inserting himself inside you again.

"You are such a good girl," he grunts, "you are taking me so fucking well."

You begin to feel lightheaded when he finally cums inside you. Good thing you have a potion for that.

You both get your clothes on and he whisks you away to his tent- where you cuddled and talked for almost the entire night.

The sex, as noted, is amazing, but you also enjoy so much more of him than just his body. You know Astarion struggles to believe you find anything about him interesting outside of sex, so you make a point of reminding him about all the other wonderful parts of him and you don't ever ask for sex or sexual favors. That ball is in his playing field as far as you are concerned.

You find yourself gravitating back to Astarion’s tent every night to listen about a new book he is reading or just to let him shower you with (arguably) questionable knowledge about the higher ups in Badlur's Gate . Sometimes you just talk about your lives, tangled in each other’s embraces, and falling asleep that way.

You had begun sleeping in the same tent shortly after he drank from you for the first time. You had been scared during a storm one night and he had heard you sniffling in your tent. You missed the safety of your Caravan during those first two weeks.

He had quickly dragged you over to his tent- griping about his hair, how “I told you that you needed better camping equipment”, and “really darling? Why are you wearing clothes with holes in them? No wonder you’re scared.”

You have had an incredibly close bond ever since and you speak very freely with one another. You still become closed off every now and then (mostly from being socially and emotionally exhausted) but he was content to sit in the silence and just be in each other’s company. If he's in a grouchy mood, you sit with him in silence or let him just talk at you, and you support him when he wakes up from a particularly grueling nightmare. You rarely, if ever, go to your tent or stay in your tent anymore.

However, your current passion project was not to be seen by his eyes until it was completely finished- hence the reason why you are in your freezing, semi abandoned tent. You enchant the amulet with “Invisibility” and after a test, you can proudly say your necklace for Astarion is ready.

Shortly after the fight with the Goblins, Astarion had been complaining to you about how Gale “ate” the last necklace of Invisibility that they had found.

“He did call finders-keepers.”

“Finders-keepers my ass, Darling. If he really believed that rule he wouldn’t have inhaled it the way he did right after finding it.”

“It was rather unbecoming of him, wasn’t it?”

“Cazador has done a lot of horrible, vile things to me over the last two centuries,” he scoffs, “but, Gale eating a perfectly good Amulet of Invisibility has somehow landed in the top 20 of worst things to happen to me.”

After that, you began your work on the Amulet and now that it’s finished- you get to give it to him.

The idea makes your stomach turn.

What if he hates it?

It’s not really his style, but you don’t make gaudy jewelry and you tried your best to make it look like it shimmers (you succeeded FYI, Nat 20 all the way). You hope he appreciates it on principle alone and doesn’t criticize you too harshly if he dislikes it. When you ran the idea by Karlach and showed her your sketch, she was immediately convinced that he would adore your gift.

“Don’t worry about a thing Soldier,” she said cheerily, “Fangs is going to adore it as much as he adores you!”

You wrap the necklace in the nice, silk handkerchief and stuff it into the little leather bag. You take one final deep breath before pushing through the tent flap. You look around camp and see that mostly everyone is in their tent- Astarion included- but Wyll is by the fire dancing. You remember joking about him giving a demonstration for the camp. As you begin to walk towards Astarion’s tent- Wyll calls out to you.

“Tav,” he says brightly, “join me for a dance?”

Another thing you love about Astarion- he is very good at telling people ‘no’ for you. Yes, you should be sticking up for yourself and setting boundaries on your own. You are so wired to make everyone else happy that it impedes your ability to say no. Astarion is helping you learn and supports you when you freeze up, but Astarion is not here in this moment and if he hears what Wyll has said to you- he has made no indication of it.

You smile tightly and put the pouch in your pocket before taking his hand. You are basically robotic as you go through the motions and yet- for some Gods forsaken reason Wyll plants a kiss right on your lips. As he pulls back and sees your look of absolute horror- he begins to apologize profusely.

“Honestly Wyll,” you awkwardly squeak out,”it’s totally fine. I just- um- well… I really like Astarion and I’m not looking elsewhere.”

“I understand and as disappointed as I am- I am grateful for your forgiveness and I hope we can remain friends.”

You smile brightly, “Thank you Wyll and of course. Good night.”

He bids you farewell and you walk with extra pep in your step. You set a boundary and you are over the moon excited to share with Astarion.

Except when you get inside the tent- all of your stuff is right in the entryway. Astarion has his back facing you and is pretending to be interested in a book. You frown.

“Star?”

“Oh don’t worry Darling- I figured I would save you the uncomfortable conversation,” he says with apathy in his voice, “we both know those aren’t your strong suite.”

You flinch at his cold, blank tone and the harshness of his words. You feel yourself becoming consumed with confusion and hurt. Your hand is clutching onto the pouch in your pocket. He looks at you and he looks far away despite the smile on his face.

“Well go along now, I’m sure your new lover is waiting for you. I’m happy for you honestly,” he pauses, giving you a cold, malicious grin, “pretending to be invested in this connection has really been bothersome these last couple weeks.”

Logically, a part of you knows he is just jealous and is lashing out. You should stay and try to explain what happened- reassure him even?

Emotionally? You feel like you just got stabbed over and over again. Oh and then someone came up to you and used a shocking grasp. You try to open your mouth, the tears welling in your eyes as you look at him.

He just looks at you coldly, “Well, leave.”

You wordlessly nod, dropping the leather pouch back into your pocket and you grab your things and numbly head back over to your tent. You roll out your bed roll and stare up at the dark tarp above your head; you let the tears stream down your face as silent sobs wrack your body. You already miss him.

_________________________________________________

You didn’t sleep well that night- you woke up with puffy eyes and a sore throat. You had spent the majority of the night freezing and jumping at every noise. You would get the occasional thirty minutes of sleep here and there, but if you weren’t scared awake, your bruised, broken heart woke you up. Your heart thumped unevenly all night- worried the bumps in the night were Astarion packing up his things and leaving.

Your chest aches as you get ready to leave and you are grateful that the Shadow-Cursed Lands are so poorly lit because it allows you to hide the rough night you have. You are also grateful to see Astarion is still here.

You, Astarion, Shadowheart, Karlach, and Wyll set out to explore more of the Shadowlands. Karlach told Astarion he didn’t have to go if he didn’t want to- you were too tired to say anything in response to his complaints and you suppose Karlach became fed up. He’s quiet after that, so quiet you think he might have left. Except you hear him chatting with Wyll during a short rest.

Shadowheart walks happily next to you- chittering about Dark Justiciars and how she can feel Shar or whatever. You are just trying to focus on her and stop thinking about him. You have been successful in avoiding him and not looking at him for the entirety of the morning and you need to keep it that way.

_________________________________________________

Astarion can’t place where in the conversation he went wrong, but the fight with Malus Thorm has been nothing short of a disaster. The Sisters are ruthless and Malus is much stronger than any of them anticipated at first glance.

Astarion usually fights right at your side, but he assumes that your new lover will be keeping you safe. He suppresses the bile and tears that threaten to come up. He has your protection still and he knows that because Wyll would have thrown him out of camp otherwise. He was never meant to end up with you- you were always meant to be a means to an end.

If anything, he should be thrilled for you. Wyll is a good, decent man and much worthier of your affections than Astarion could ever be.

So why does it hurt so fucking much? And why did he want to kick Wyll over a ravine when he kissed you?

He shakes the thought as he strikes down two more Sisters. He steals a glance in Wyll’s direction (to check on you) and immediately notices that you are nowhere in the premises and the Blade of Frontiers was battling with Karlach. Astarion scans the room in a frenzy of panic.

He turns around just in time to see Malus lift you up by your neck and fling you into a column. Your glasses fell to the ground as your back makes contact with the stone and the sound of shattering bones echoes through the room as the Sisters begin to move forward.

Astarion watches in horror as you are struggling to pop up and begin touching the floor around you , but by the time you seem to realize finding your glasses is a moot effort- the Sisters descend on you as Malus turns his attention to Wyll and Karlach.

Wyll acknowledges what just happened, but doesn’t go to help you. Anger rips through Astarion like a wildfire as Wyll turns and tells Shadowheart you need help. He’s about to help Malus take out Wyll- until another scream for help pierces the air as you throw random cantrips at your attackers.

Astarion rushes forward, cutting his way through the remaining Sisters in the middle of the room. He really could give a shit less at this time if it pisses Wyll off that he was the one who protected you- in fact, he’s probably going to be stabbing Wyll when you all get back to camp.

Astarion destroys the Sisters surrounding you in a flurry of gore and steel. He ignores his other companions as he searches for you frantically.

You had disappeared by the time he came to your aid. Astarion knows that you have a tendency to slip into your Cat form when you are particularly scared and can’t see- using the animal’s powerful nose to guide you away from danger.

Astarion goes near the beds and crouches down- a sigh escaping his lips.

All 8 pounds of you and your black fluff is crouched under the bed and you hiss in surprise when he clicks his tongue at you. You squint your eyes at him before sniffing the air. You cautiously walk forward and sniff his outreached hand. You begin to purr loudly and rub your head against his knuckles.

He laughs with a mix of hysteria and joy as the realization that you are okay settles into his bones.

“It’s okay Little Love, the Sisters are dead,” he says softly, “I’m so sorry, I should have been next to you. I just assumed a beast with such prowess as yourself would be able to fend for themselves.”

You meow in indignation as you climb on top of him to bite the tip of his nose and he can’t help but laugh.

“Does your ego hurt less now, Little Love?”

You give him an amused look that makes him bust out laughing again.

He had asked you once why you were just a Black domestic cat instead of a Panther. You had argued that you are just as ferocious as a Panther in that form. Not to mention, you would have a better chance of shooting an arrow straight than turning into a Panther, but you weren’t about to admit that (even though he knows).

Astarion scoops you up in his arms and pauses- the smell of your blood floods his senses. He grabs you by your scruff and you yelp as he inspects you for injuries.

You scratch at his hand and he drops you. You yowl in pain and leer at him as you begin to change back into your humanoid form.

If Astarion was capable of feinting, this would have been that moment. He drops to his knees beside you and begins trying to find a healing potion to take the edge off.

You have a compound fracture where your shin was and it’s bleeding heavily. Your right shoulder is out of place, your left wrist is twisted in an atypical fashion, and your left cheek is blooming with an angry, purple bruise. He winces when you inhale a sharp breath as you try to breathe in, clutching at your rib cage.

He doesn’t catch the choked gasp that climbs up his throat in time- your eyes search for him in the dark before finally settling on him.

“Your beautiful eyes are really helpful when it’s blurry.”

Your voice is so tired and he can hear the pain in your voice.

“How come?”

“I can actually find you,” you pause, “you make me feel safe.”

You look at him, your eyes glassy with shock. You smile brightly at him and he smiles brightly back at you. He never thought anyone would associate him with protection, safety. Your words echo in his brain.

You’re make me feel safe.

You go to say something again before you look at him with wide, scared eyes and promptly lose consciousness. The scream that comes out of his mouth is foreign to his own ears. It sounds fearful, angry- heartbroken. Astarion tries to shake you awake, yelling your name over and over.

“Please wake up Darling- you’re safe,” he whispers through choked sobs, “come back to me please.”

Nothing. He can barely tell if you are breathing still as your heart thuds softly in your chest. He calls for Shadowheart two, three, four more times.

"Please," he whimpers, "I don't want to have to be without you forever- I can't be."

The weight of his words hits him like a train- his plan had well and truly failed. Under normal, non- life threatening emergency situations, he would probably panic about the strength of his emotions. Instead, he sits here begging for the chance to be able to tell you how he really feels. He wants to move so badly, to drag Shadowheart over here to heal you, but he can't bare to leave you in your vulnerable state. He keeps calling for Shadowheart- his voice begins to crack.

Astarion feels the worst of his anxieties vanish as you suddenly start taking long, ragged, tired breaths. He grabs a healing potion out of his pocket and tilts your head as he pours it into your mouth. You swallow the fluid gingerly. Your eyes are barely open when he hears you communicate through the tadpole.

Thank you for saving me. Again.

Astarion slowly strokes the side of your face, brushing the flyaway hairs out of your eyes.

"I saved you for my own selfish reasons," he whispers, while taking your right hand gently, "close your eyes and rest- I will keep you safe. Shadowheart is coming."

You nod lazily before closing your eyes, your hand in his still. Astarion sighs in relief when your breathing gets stronger, but he is no healer. Where the hells is that damn Cleric!?

“Shadowheart!!!!”

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #astarion x you #bg3 #karlach #smut #shameless smut actually #astarion acunin #bg3 tav

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diamond-champagne · 5 months ago

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7. Do You Miss Me?

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Warnings: None that I know of but please let me know!

a/n: We're kind of approaching the end so please give me requests on what I should write next! Thanks for the love, besties <3 It means more than yous know!

New Years Eve

The balloons and confetti fill the air while bottles of booze litter the table. The UConn Womens’ Basketball team; along with the rest of the UConn athletes, have taken their New Year's festivities to a club. It’s loud and packed. It makes the perfect distraction which is what Azzi needs.

After her nauseating conversation with Caroline, the curly-haired girl was left to face the truth about her relationship with Paige. It’s fragile but teetering. Every interaction pushes it closer to being destroyed; yet it sits on edge, slightly wobbly, but intact. Azzi knows she’s to blame for the current state of their friendship. Though they’ve had rough patches, she never thought it would get this bad. The pair haven’t had a real conversation in weeks; both doing everything they could to avoid the other. In the three conversations they have had, they argue. It’s exhausting, but Azzi is grateful for the disagreements. It means that there’s still some fight left in Paige. Some fight left for them.

Despite how happy she is to be fighting with the blonde, she wishes that they were making up more. The brown-eyed girl has missed her counterpart over the last month. The two don’t have designated time to spend together anymore, don’t go out of their way to borrow the other’s clothes, or simply just cuddle. Azzi misses Paige. It’s not a new concept as their entire friendship is based on missing each other but Azzi is desperate to have the blue-eyed girl near her. She misses the presence of her best friend more than anything.

She wonders if Paige misses her too.

Though she imagines that the blonde-haired girl doesn’t because across the club, Paige is making her way to Cameron. Azzi watches as the football player notices the blonde making her way to him. Azzi watches as she slips into the space next to him; pressing her side into his as his arm snakes around her shoulders protectively.

It’s a nauseating sight that results in Azzi throwing back her shot and quickly ordering another one. And another one. And another one.

“You should slow down,” Caroline says as she sits down next to Azzi. The sentiment, while appreciated, does nothing to deter the curly-haired girl from ordering another shot. She’s being irresponsible, this much she knows, but she needs to forget. She needs to not feel. “It’s New Years Eve. I’m allowed to get drunk.” the girl grumbles out. It’s hard over the music but her teammate hears every word. “You are,” Caroline agrees, “But New Years isn’t why you’re sitting at the bar, drinking alone.”

Azzi turns to face the couple on the other side of the club. She watches as they talk to one of the football player’s teammates. Paige laughs at something and throws her head back. Azzi wonders if Cam loves that sound the way she does. Or does he prefer her giggle that she probably lets out when they engage in banter?

These thoughts and more occupy the curly-haired girl’s mind more than she’d care to admit. The thoughts alone are suffocating but to watch is like dying a thousand deaths. So Azzi doesn’t bother with a response. Instead, she downs her shot before heading to the floor to dance. The younger girl isn’t sure how long. All she knows is that Waka Flocka turned into Pitbull which turned into Lady Gaga. It doesn’t matter though, because Paige is still connected at the hip to Cam, and Azzi still wishes that was her instead.

Azzi is drunk. The younger girl is standing in the club bathroom with 30 minutes to midnight trying to get herself together. She came in to use the bathroom but that proved to be difficult when she couldn’t even stand straight. The basketball player eventually got that much figured out but couldn’t really do much else besides hold onto the sink for balance.

The brown-haired girl had just about gotten a hold on herself when a group of girls walk in. Two immediately head towards the big mirror by the sink Azzi is currently occupying. The other two girls head into the stalls but the conversation between the group never falters; which is the only reason Azzi is able identify one the girls as Riley. In fact, the volleyball player is looking at her through the mirror.

Azzi is drunk but she isn’t drunk enough for this. She supposes she can’t be surprised. Riley is a volleyball player and most of the UConn athletes are at this club tonight. Still, seeing your ex that broke up with you because of your feelings for your best friend who you still aren’t with is very uncomfortable. Talking to them even more so.

“Hi, Az-”

“Hey, Rile-”

They both start but before laughing. The tensitiy in the air lessens and the athletes watch as the other’s body relaxes. Suddenly, talking to each other isn’t that bad but then again, it could be the alcohol.

“How are you?” Azzi asks.

“I’m good. How are you? How’s Paige?” Riley replies. The answer must reveal itself on Azzi’s face though, because the volleyball player’s eyes widen before she snaps her head in the direction of the taller girl. “You aren’t together?”

The basketball player shakes her head no and Riley’s eyes widen even more. “Listen, I know I said a lot of things that night but I never would have imagined that you two didn’t figure it out.” Azzi laughs in response. “Well, it doesn’t help that she asked if I have feelings for her and I walked out of her apartment.” The statement earns her a slap on the arm and a scolding from the shorter athlete next to her.

“Why would you do that? It’s obvious that you do!”

“I’m scared,” Azzi starts. Perhaps it’s the alcohol that allows her to be this open because her next words have never been spoken. “I’m fucking terrifed of loving her. I’m terrified of her loving me. Every single time I look into her eyes, she’s got these intense emotions pooling in them and I don’t know how to handle that. Paige looks at me like I’m her forever. She looks at melike I can hang the stars and the moon. Fuck, she’s just so intense and sometimes I worry about it being too much. Sometimes I worry about being too little.”

“You’re a coward, a liar, and a thief.” Riley states. She says it even toned and softly as if all three of those words were not insults of some kind.

“Excuse me?” Azzi exclaims. The insult clearly catching her off guard.

“It’s the truth,” Riley shrugs. “You’re a coward, a liar, and a thief. Until you begin to work on that, allowing yourself to be happy will be hard. You’re self sabotaging and you don’t even know it.”

The basketball player isn’t exactly sure how to respond. She watches as her ex moves toward the bathroom door before turning around.

“Once you figure it out, I hope you get everything you want.” and then she’s out the door. Azzi shakes her head and checks her phone for the time. She tries not to give what Riley said another thought, at least not while she’s this intoxicated.

There’s five minutes until midnight.

Azzi walks out of the bathroom and heads towards the section occupied by her teammates, and Cam. A bitter feeling creeps up Azzi’s throat and invades her senses. Would Paige kiss him at midnight? It’s a thought that produces sickening images in the younger girls’ mind. Though as she reaches the section, all she can hear is her ex’s voice in the back of her mind.

I hope you get everything you want.

While she isn’t sober enough to work out whatever Riley thinks she needs to, Azzi can accept that she should after whatever she wants. It is a new year afterall.

The words repeat themselves as the girls flood the floor along with the other athletes to start the countdown. Azzi can feel the tequila and adrenaline pumping through her veins as she watches Paige separate herself from the football player to be with their friends.

Should she do it? Azzi thinks she passes through the club to get to Paige.

Maybe she shouldn’t. She continues walking anyway.

Coward. Azzi gets closer.

Liar. And closer.

I hope you get everything you want this year.

They’re standing face to face.

Azzi pulls Paige closer.

“What are you doing?” Paige exclaimed

“Getting everything I want”

Happy New Year!

Azzi crashes her lips onto Paige.

PREVIOUS | NEXT

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #paige x azzi #pazzi #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #YOU

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vintagerpg · 1 month ago

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This is The Mask of Cthulhu (1958), one of two explicitly Cthulhu Mythos collections by Derleth published under his name at Arkham House (the other is the superior, but not by much, The Trail of Cthulhu, 1962).

After all these years, I’m still trying to figure Derleth out. He obviously knew Mythos stories would sell, and Lovecraft Mythos stories in particular (hence the five or so volumes of “posthumous collaborations” Derleth published at Arkham House). But his own Mythos tales feel so half-hearted. They lean into some of Lovecraft’s worst tendencies (particularly litanies of unpronounceable names) and casually misunderstand the source material, as evidenced by the foisting of a weirdly black and white morality onto a cosmology Lovecraft emphatically portrayed as based on meaninglessness. The stories here are hard to get through, honestly, especially when you compare them to Derleth’s really fucking fantastic horror, like “The Lonesome Place” (do yourselves a favor). And yet, our modern conception of the Mythos is largely understood through Derleth’s bored tinkering. Call of Cthulhu, the RPG, certainly owes just as much to Derleth’s half-hearted taxonomies as it does Lovecraft’s raw cosmicism. And these crummy Mythos stories really do overshadow Derleth’s really good work, almost by design. It’s weird.

Anyway, whatever about the stories. This cover by Richard Taylor is perfect in every way. The color, the typography, the big group of happy frog people enjoying a quiet moonlit evening outside. Totally perfect. I love it.

#roleplaying game #tabletop rpg #dungeons & dragons #rpg #d&d #ttrpg #August Derleth #Richard Taylor #Arkham House #Cthulhu

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sweetkpopmusings · 16 days ago

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seventeen as dreamwalkers <3

a/n: i started this after "last night" dropped because i was thoroughly obsessed with the concept. since i went to the last show of their tour, i needed to escape into thoughts of them, lest i wallow in my post-concert depression </3 please enjoy these sweet moments that i hope you share with them in your dreams tonight :,-) pics not mine~

content: dreamwalker!seventeen, supernatural au | wc: 2.3k | warnings: none really! | pairing: seventeen x gn!reader | requests: open

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

seungcheol♡‧₊˚

inside jokes with your best friend, a refreshing breeze on a hot day, pure relaxation

the first time you saw seungcheol, you were charmed by his boy-next-door looks and grounded energy. seungcheol didn’t start with a special plan for your dreams. he wanted, more than anything, to get to know you. in his mind, the better he knew you, the better he could comfort you, bring you joy, and make your dreams a safe space overall. it turned out, however, that the best way to spend your dreams was simply bonding with seungcheol. he was surprised at first when you wanted to know more about him. seunghceol often forgot that he could be the center of attention, but, after meeting you, he was reminded of his worth. it wasn’t long until he happily shared the parts of himself no one else had seen, cherishing every part of you he got to hold through each night. one night, after a particularly vulnerable conversation, he sighed contentedly and admitted, “i hope i get to spend every night like this, with you, for the rest of my life.”

jeonghan♡‧₊˚

someone tucking your hair behind your ear, freshly cut fruit, cherry blossoms

jeonghan’s sweetness was the most refreshing thing you had ever dreamt of. after he grew more comfortable with you, his mischievous side crept out, but, in the beginning, he was the definition of charming. even after he started joking around and fondly teasing you, there was a tenderness underneath every word and action. jeonghan wanted to be gentle with you. he valued the trust you gave him, and he was well aware of the responsibility that came with visiting your dreams. therefore, regardless of the silly activities he conjured up for the night, jeonghan always asked you how you were doing. he loved celebrating the highs with you and holding you through the lows. jeonghan, it seemed, thought nothing was sweeter than sharing time and space with you. once, he made you promise that you’d never dream about anyone else, smiling with his pinky outstretched to you and his heart on his sleeve.

joshua♡‧₊˚

a happy ending, finding the perfect song when you need it most, the smell of flowers blooming

from the moment you met joshua in your dreams, you knew he was a romantic. you didn’t have to assume; he told you immediately. joshua thought that, if you two were interacting in such a romantic space, then he, as the resident gentleman, should take the lead in curating your dreams. every night, you two recreated movie scenes. at first, it was classic romances. after a while, he asked you about your most beloved characters and ships, wanting you to experience the love you admired on the screen. it was funny, cheesy, heartwarming, and so very sweet to act like this with joshua. at the end of every performance, he would give you a huge round of applause and claim that you both were award-winning actors. though he was too shy to tell you this, joshua’s favorite scenes to recreate were the ones in which he got to say, “i love you.”

junhui♡‧₊˚

your favorite plushie, fully belly laughs, hearing “i miss you” from someone you love

you were caught off guard when you encountered an unbelievably statuesque man in your dreams. you were even more surprised when the first thing he asked was, “do you want to play hide and seek?” junhui understood the importance of dreams being a reprieve from the stresses of the real world. that’s why he designed different playgrounds for you to enjoy. every night you met, you would laugh through the night, racing down slides, watching jun jump off the swings, or, of course, playing hide and seek. he always had the biggest smile when he played with you. while he knew he was there to make your dreams wonderful, he never shied away from saying that every moment he spent with you was a dream come true. usually, after saying that, he’d giggle relentlessly and dare you to chase him around the playground. you complied every time, still unable to believe how free and invincible jun made you feel.

soonyoung♡‧₊˚

sunlight reflecting off clear water, freshly picked berries, a voice sweetly calling your name

soonyoung found you during one of your lowest nights. or, rather, he looked for you, sensing your pain and wanting nothing more than to ease your burden. with every smile, with every gesture, with every word spoken, he made you feel light as a feather, regardless of how heavy the world was. soonyoung buzzed with excitement as soon as you met, and it was contagious during each visit. soonyoung told you stories. he asked you a million questions, wanting to know your habits, likes, dreams–really everything about you–but he always reminded you that you could tell him “no.” you rarely felt the need to, though. soonyoung was the softest person you ever knew, and the comfort corner he created in your dreams was where you found complete authenticity and peace. the second you confessed this to him, he practically squealed from the elation of it all. soonyoung thanked you over and over, admitting that bonding with you is one of the greatest gifts he has ever received.

wonwoo♡‧₊˚

sunlight breaking through the curtains, a compliment you’ve always wanted to hear, a dash of cinnamon

wonwoo believed that dreams were a source of relief, a reprieve from whatever turbulence waking life may offer. when he met you, he saw the tension in your shoulders and that broke his heart–how could someone like you be carrying so much weight even while you slept? at that first encounter, wonwoo led you to a bench swing beneath a beautiful tree, sitting beside you and breathing peacefully. he let you know that, no matter what, he would offer you quiet time to be yourself. when you suggested you two have a picnic, he happily agreed, ensuring your favorite items were available and that the weather was just right. his most cherished time with you was when you rested your bodies on a soft sofa, and you watched him as he read you his favorite stories. he wasn’t sure what the look in your eye meant. before he asked, you answered, “everywhere with you feels like home. when i look at you, i see my home.” the blush that covered his skin let you know that wonwoo saw his home when he looked at you too.

jihoon♡‧₊˚

the echo of piano keys, familiar footsteps, a promise to return that’s fulfilled

the first time you saw jihoon in a dream, you awoke with only the feeling of serenity and a brief but vivid memory of his angelic face. even as his visits became more frequent, you were always left with little more than a glimpse of him. jihoon felt just out of reach and entirely a part of you at the same time. one morning, by some stroke of luck, you remembered asking him in the dream, “why can’t i ever remember you properly?” he smiled sweetly, amused by your desire to engrave him in your mind. he admitted, “all i wanted to be was a safe place for you to rest. i never thought you’d want anything more than that.” when you told him you wished to carry memories of him in your waking life, he promised that you’d remember him each morning when you opened your eyes, just as you had recognized him every night when you closed them. jihoon kept his promise, leaving you with such clear memories that the feeling of safety he created for you every night enveloped you throughout your days too.

seokmin♡‧₊˚

the first day of spring, secrets shared in a pillow fort, laughing until you can’t breathe

you were the first person seokmin ever visited in their dreams, so he had no idea what he should do. in a panic, he told you he could sing before he even told you his name. as soon as you heard his angelic voice, you knew there was no going back. seokmin was thrilled. he kept a running list of your favorite songs, learning them as quickly as he could. seokmin also sang songs that reminded him of you, filling your nights with the sweetest serenades. nothing made seokmin feel more special than the sparkle in your eyes and the look on your face when you listened to him sing. he truly felt that he would be content if you were the only person he ever sang for. you were his perfect audience, which he told you many, many times. once, when you asked how he sang so well, he casually replied, “i’ve been practicing all my life because music is one of the most important things to me.” as he watched you applaud for him, he wanted to add, i never knew that singing would lead me to the most important person in my life, but i’m glad i worked so hard for you.

mingyu♡‧₊˚

the glow of a fireplace in a dark room, bedsheets hung in the yard to dry, a smile meant for only you

mingyu made your dreams a home. he knew that he could take you anywhere, explore the whole world with you if he wanted, but truly he just wanted to spend time with you. mingyu loved seeing you comfortable. he was enraptured by you, and he loved nothing more than creating a life with you. together you two spent time making meals, rearranging furniture, playing games, having deep conversations, or sipping tea and enjoying each other’s company. to some, it may have sounded strange, but mingyu insisted that you two plan a future together. you resisted at first, unsure how planning a future with the man who was only in your dreams would be helpful. then, because mingyu is adorably persistent, you played along, not really believing it was more than fantasy. after some time, however, you got the same feeling in your heart that mingyu had all along: we were meant to meet each other. it started here, but it’s only a matter of time before we find each other after the sunrise.

minghao♡‧₊˚

whispered confessions, your beloved’s fingers brushing against yours, the pink clouds at dawn

dreams of minghao should be considered the eighth wonder of the world. every time he appears, he recreates beautiful places he has traveled to before, so you can experience them too. he cherishes nothing more than walking beside you, either in silent contemplation or excited conversation, through all the locales that left a lasting impression on his mind. minghao cannot fathom spending his time in any other way. you, after all, have left quite the impression on his heart. he will do anything to find you again and again, just to witness the glimmer in your eyes when he shares something beautiful with you. what’s most engraved in his brain is the moment you stood beside him and admitted, “every special place i’ve been to, i have been there with you.” minghao spends every night trying to find the right way to express how your dreams have become the most special place he’s ever experienced.

seungkwan♡‧₊˚

the moon’s reflection in still water, kind conversations on city streets, the smile of someone who knows you well

seungkwan thought it was magical, how he could find you every night. to him, you were the dream. he never wanted to show off or to make anything so spectacular that you wouldn’t be able to enjoy the shared energy between you two. as such, he loved nothing more than to create a star-filled night sky for you. you’d tell him your favorite things, and he’d rearrange the stars to your liking. as clichéd as it was, seungkwan adored watching you stargaze. he marveled at your beauty every time your dreams brought you together. one night, when your eyes sparkled while observing a constellation of your favorite flower, seungkwan murmured, “ah, you are so beautiful, my sky.” his ears turned bright red, but the sweet smile on your face meant he had no regrets about his confession.

hansol♡‧₊˚

finding the perfect idea, someone who understands you completely, the warmth of your favorite place

you laughed the first time you met hansol because, rather than a grand entrance, he casually walked up to you and asked, “so…what do you want to do?” this relaxed energy permeated every night you spent with hansol. eventually, you two developed a habit of trying out different crafts together, mostly because you could laugh when you failed and fawn over each other’s successes. hansol created a place for you to experiment and express yourself, and he did it so naturally you felt he had been by your side your entire life. when you confessed this to him, he confessed that he felt the same way. hansol even had a theory that you two had been meeting in dreams your whole lives, despite only remembering the times you met as adults. at first, you thought it was just another of his silly conspiracies. you changed your mind, though, when you woke up to see the origami he made the previous night next to your bed. your connection with hansol transcended dreams, and this paper figure of your favorite animal proved that.

chan♡‧₊˚

childhood belief, a long-awaited victory, hearing “i’m proud of you” from someone you admire

you’ll never forget the first time you saw chan in a dream. he was bright, bubbly, and all around ready for a good time. he wanted to show you how far you could push the limits of reality in your subconscious, and he did so by trying out different superpowers with you. there were no villains to fight–unless you wanted them–but there were plenty of ways to transform with superhuman abilities. chan ran through all the classics with you: invisibility, teleporation, flying, etc. then, he would laugh hysterically while you two tried to invent new superpowers. anything from changing coffee flavors by snapping your fingers or being able to breathe underwater, chan wanted to try it with you. he convinced you that all it took to save the world was a smile, which is something he gave you every time you looked at him.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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embbarnes · 2 months ago

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Orange Guts.

summary: Pumpkin carving with Bucky.

warnings: Fluff | Slight nostalgic angst but only brief.

a/n: 'Tis the fucking season. It's getting closer to Halloween, and my vacation yayy. It's my favorite time of the year so yes I want to celebrate with Bucky. I don't care if pumpkin carving is considered 'childish' I will carve a damn pumpkin every year until the day I die. Shorter than normal, just a little fun drabble while I work on bigger pieces. Unedited, I plan to go over this later and fixing any mistakes. ;; wc: 3.4k

"So, are you planning to put those impressive knife skills to good use today?" you inquired with a hint of excitement in your voice. Your eyes carefully scanned the array of pumpkins laid out before you, each one a potential canvas for your autumnal artistry. Bucky stood patiently by your side, dutifully holding your steaming cup of coffee as you meticulously examined the various gourds.

Your hands moved from one pumpkin to another, gently caressing their surfaces, feeling for imperfections and assessing their potential. You were determined to find the perfect pumpkin, one that would serve as the ideal medium for your intricate carving designs. The process of selection was almost as important as the carving itself, and you took your time, knowing that the right pumpkin would make all the difference in the final product.

Bucky couldn't help but smirk as he observed your meticulous examination of the pumpkins. The way you scrutinized each pumpkin, one might think you were disarming a bomb rather than selecting a canvas for a jack-o-lantern. He found your careful, precise approach endearing, much different from the casual attitude most people adopted towards pumpkin picking. But it was you, one of your many traits he really loved. You had these little quirks he thought was adorable, and picking pumpkins happened to be one of them.

Bucky recalled how seriously you took this annual tradition from last year, you had just begun dating last fall, nothing too serious yet, but bonded enough to spend a lot of time together.

Last year's memory was still fresh in his mind as he let himself think back. The way some of the team members had playfully teased you about your intense focus on pumpkin selection. He remembered how their light-hearted jabs had unexpectedly upset you, your enthusiasm momentarily dampened by their lack of understanding and relentless teasing. Bucky hadn’t said anything like everyone else, but he noticed your reserved behavior for the rest of the time in town with everyone. He felt bad seeing your joy get crushed, he hadn’t seen you so excited before, only for it to be teased into hiding.

Bucky never wanted you to feel like you had to hide things that you were excited for, so he made an effort to ask you how to pick a pumpkin and continued to show interest just to get you back on your feet. This year, is was just the two of you, and of course dearest Alpine in the cart. No one to tease you. If anyone did, a simple stare from him is enough to shut them up.

"Sure, doll," Bucky said, his voice warm with affection. "I'm more than happy to cut the top of whichever pumpkin you choose. But," he added with a self-deprecating chuckle, "My artistic skills might not be up to par when it comes to the actual drawing part. That's where your expertise will have to take over."

As he spoke, the aroma of your fall-flavored coffee wafted towards him. Bucky's nose crinkled slightly, his reaction a mix of curiosity and mild aversion. The concept of seasonal coffee flavors was still somewhat foreign to him, he was used to plain, black coffee.

While he could appreciate the warm, spicy notes of cinnamon, nutmeg, and pumpkin spice in baked goods and desserts, the idea of infusing these flavors into coffee left him uncertain. He pondered for a moment, trying to reconcile his love for traditional, straightforward coffee with these modern, festive concoctions. "Eh," he thought to himself, "I'm not entirely convinced about these flavored coffees. Give me a simple, strong brew any day."

"How do you know you don't like it if you've never tried it?" You quipped back, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. Turning to look at him from your knelt position, you stuck your tongue out at him, your eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You sound exactly like my mom," he retorted, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated manner, though the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. "Word for word, I swear. It's like she's here lecturing me about trying new things." He paused, eyeing the steaming cup of coffee warily. "Fine, I'll give it a shot, but don't expect me to suddenly become a pumpkin spice enthusiast."

With a theatrical sigh, the damn sassy man he was, he slowly brought the cup to his lips, the lid barely touching them as he hesitated. He finally took a small, tentative sip. You watched intently as he let the maple liquid swirl on his tongue, allowing it to cool slightly before swallowing. His face contorted into a series of expressions, curiosity, surprise, and then... a slight cringe.

"Ah..." he began, his voice a mix of disappointment and amusement. You could tell he didn’t like it, but was trying so hard to be nice about it. "I hate to say it, sweetheart, but pumpkin coffee is definitely not my cup of tea - or coffee, in this case." He set the cup down in the cart’s cup holder gently, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you shelled out five whole bucks for this, it's like autumn decided to punch me in the taste buds. You know, when I was a kid, five bucks would’ve gotten an entire feast for our family, plus some change. And you spent it on bad tasting coffee."

"Hey! Pumpkin spice coffee is absolutely delicious! You're just accustomed to the plain, ordinary variety," you retorted back with enthusiasm, your eyes lighting up as you held up a large, flawlessly shaped pumpkin. "Look what I've found! The proportions are perfect, any of its sides could be used for carving a face, and its size is just right!" You couldn't contain your excitement and pride as you carefully placed the prized pumpkin into the shopping cart, treating it as if it were a precious treasure.

Alpine, ever curious, leaned forward from her cozy carrier, her furry head poking out just enough to investigate the new addition to your shopping haul. Her little pink nose twitched as she thoroughly sniffed the pumpkin, seeming to conduct her own quality inspection.

"Well, would you look at that? She approves," you said with a triumphant smirk, reaching over to gently scratch Alpine's chin. Your eyes were drawn to the bright orange collar adorning her neck, its intricate design of pumpkins, bats, and colorful candy wrappers peeking through her silky, well-groomed fur. "You know, I'm so glad I bought you that pretty collar for the holidays," you mused, admiring how the accessory complemented Alpine's natural beauty. "It really brings out the sparkle in your eyes, doesn't it, girl?"

"I draw the line at costumes," Bucky commented, only slightly serious. Maybe he'd let you put her in a costume, maybe not. He wasn't sure yet.

Alpine purred contentedly as you gently scratched her chin, her eyes drifting closed in a state of pure relaxation. The cat's entire body seemed to melt into your touch, the level of comfort and trust she felt in your presence was obvious. Bucky watched the scene unfold with of amusement and amazement, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he observed you lavishing attention on the notoriously finicky feline, that spoiled cat of his was very picky with people.

"I swear, I'll never understand how you do it, doll," Bucky remarked, shaking his head in disbelief. "She absolutely adores you, she pretty much can't stand anyone else who comes within ten feet of her. It's like you've got some kind of magical touch or something." He let out another small chuckle as he watched his beloved cat nuzzle her head into your palm.

You glanced up at Bucky with a playful smirk, your fingers still working their magic on Alpine's chin and ears. "What can I say? It's not rocket science, you know. Nothing some of toys, treats, and fresh food won't accomplish." You hummed softly, "Plus, a little patience and understanding goes a long way."

You pulled your hand away from Alpine, earning a small chirp of disappointment from the cat. "Just a little longer princess," you smiled at her and looked back up a Bucky, "There's one more pumpkin we need, and then we can call it a day."

The kitchen counter had been prepared with a layer of protective paper, you wanted to try to preserve as much of the mess as possible. You carefully positioned the two large, plump pumpkins atop the paper, their orange surfaces gleaming as your mind raced with possibilities for your own design. Each carving tool laid neatly at each side, arranged and ready for use. You set two large bowls down to collect the seeds, stringy innards, and any excess pumpkin pieces that would be carved away during the process. You exhaled, finally done with the prep.

Bucky, seated comfortably at one of the kitchen chairs, gazing at the pumpkin you had specifically chosen for him. His eyes roamed over its surface, taking in every detail of the gourd before him. It was, without a doubt, a pumpkin of exceptional quality - perfectly round and symmetrical, with a smooth, unblemished skin that seemed to invite touch. The stem atop the pumpkin was curled elegantly and trimmed to a short, safe length, free from any potentially prickly protrusions.

"So," he ventured, his voice a mixture of eagerness and slight hesitation, "I start with cutting a hole in the top, right?"

"Don't tell me you've never carved a pumpkin before," you commented with a hint of amusement in your voice as you settled down next to him. You pulled your own pumpkin closer, positioning it comfortably in front of you. "There's a bit of technique to it, you know. You've got to cut at an angle when you're making the top opening. That way, when you put the lid back on after you're done carving, it doesn't just fall right inside. It's a little trick that makes a big difference. A lot of people don’t put enough of an angle."

Bucky's eyebrows furrowed slightly, a mix of concentration and mild indignation crossing his features. "Of course I have," he retorted, his voice carrying a touch of defensiveness. "It's just... well, it's been a while. Been sort of out of it for seven decades, if you remember." His words carried a weight of history, hinting at his painful past. Despite this, he reached for one of the carving knives with determination, his movements precise and controlled.

You watched as Bucky approached the task with the same focus he applied to everything. That cute knit in his brow, the way his eyes squinted as he formed tunnel vision on the pumpkin. He penetrated the thick skin of the pumpkin with ease, his enhanced strength making the job look effortless. True to your advice, he carefully cut at an angle with his right hand, creating a smooth, circular opening at the top.

You set to work on your own pumpkin, your cuts were slightly less refined than Bucky's, but you managed to create a serviceable opening nonetheless. A sense of accomplishment washed over you as you surveyed your handiwork. "Look at us," you said with a grin, "We've both got our pumpkins opened up now. Not bad, coming off seven decades, huh?"

Bucky smiled as he pulled the top off, “No, it’s not. Easy, actually. I’m just worried my face is going to come out funny looking.”

“That’s the point, silly. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It’s a pumpkin carving, the goofier or sillier, the better.”

Preparing to scoop out the insides, a childhood memory surfaced through your mind when your fingers touched the cool insides. "You know," you began, your voice taking on a nostalgic tone, "My younger brother used to be so scared of touching the inside of the pumpkin. He'd make all sorts of faces and noises when it came time to clean it out." Your hand disappeared into the pumpkin as you spoke, emerging with a fistful of slimy, stringy pumpkin guts. The cool, slippery texture brought back a flood of autumn memories to past carvings.

The callback to simpler times made Bucky crack another smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine amusement. "Really?" he asked, clearly entertained by the mental image of a young you and your squeamish brother.

"Oh yeah, he'd freak out," you confirmed with a chuckle. "He flat-out refused to touch the inside. I had to clean it out for him, or one of my parents would do it. But he did eventually grow out of it, though it took him quite a while. I think he was already a teenager by the time he finally got over it and scooped out his own pumpkin."

You paused for a moment, your hands stilling in their task as you found yourself lost in the bittersweet nostalgia of those memories. The laughter, the warmth, the sense of togetherness - it all felt so vivid yet so distant.

"It's strange how things change," you mused, your voice softening. "Back then, pumpkin carving was this big family event. We'd all gather around the kitchen table, newspapers spread out to catch the mess, competing to see who could create the scariest or funniest face. Now... well, we all have our own busy lives. We're scattered in different directions, each caught up in our own world."

A wistful sigh escaped your lips as you resumed your task, your movements more deliberate now. "Sometimes, I wish I could go back, you know? Just for a day. To feel that simplicity, that closeness again. Does that make sense?"

"Doll, if anyone understands wanting to go back, it's me," Bucky replied, his own hands now covered in slimy pumpkin guts. He scooped out a handful and tore out the seeds, letting them drop into the bowl with a soft patter. His eyes, filled with a mixture of nostalgia and resignation, met yours. "I think about that too, all the time. Seeing my family again... hearing their voices, feeling my mom's hugs. But deep down, I know it's just a dream. You can't change time, no matter how much we might wish we could."

There was a profound beat of silence between the two of you, as memories of a better time washed over you both like a bittersweet tide. Your minds wandered back to the warmth of family life, to the simple joys and shared laughter that seemed so distant now. Before the alien invasions that shattered the normalcy you once took for granted. Before what felt like an endless cycle of fighting, running, and hiding became your daily reality. The weight of the chaotic life you both now lived hung heavy in the air, you felt like you couldn’t get a break.

Just as the silence threatened to become overwhelming, Alpine's insistent meow for attention pierced through your shared reverie. Both of you instinctively glanced towards the source of the sound, your eyes landing on her pristine white fur. She sat primly at one of the bowls, her curiosity piqued by the strange contents within. She slowly extended a paw, attempting to touch the slimy pumpkin guts and seeds.

"I wouldn't change it," Bucky looked over at you, his eyes filled with sincerity and warmth. "I want to go back, sure, but I wouldn't. I have you now, and that means everything to me. The thought of never meeting you...I wouldn't want to risk losing that for anything in the world. You saved me already, I can’t imagine my life without you in it."

You felt a wave of emotion wash over you, touched deeply by his heartfelt words. The intensity of his gaze and the raw honesty in his voice made your heart skip a beat. You couldn't help but feel a mix of gratitude and affection for this man who valued your presence in his life so highly. You didn’t have conversations like these too often, or when you did, it was when one of you was feeling vulnerable or more down during a hard day. It often left you or him feeling choked up.

Trying to lighten the moment and hide how touched you were, you playfully hit his arm, your lips curving into a tender smile. "You big sap," you teased, your voice soft with fondness. "Cut a face into the damn pumpkin..."

Bucky's face lit up as he began to carve, his mind not set on any particular design but rather drawing inspiration from the classic jack-o-lantern image etched in his memory. He etched out a simple yet charming face, triangular eyes, a small triangular nose positioned just right, and a wide, friendly smile adorned with two square teeth strategically placed on opposite sides of the mouth. Even though he had claimed his artistry wasn’t the best, he carved the pumpkin very well. Each line he created was impeccably smooth, the blade gliding effortlessly through the pumpkin's flesh.

You, on the other hand, found yourself completely absorbed in your own creative process, your hands steady as you wielded the carving tool. You drew your chosen design onto the surface of your pumpkin, each stroke of the blade bringing your vision to life. Time seemed to slip away as you worked, lost in the satisfying task of transforming the ordinary gourd into a work of art. Once the main carving was complete, you took extra care to refine and clean up any stray pieces and wiping away excess bits with a damp paper towel to ensure a polished finish.

When you were done, you set down your tools and admired your handiwork. "There, I'm done," you announced proudly, carefully turning your pumpkin to face Bucky. Your eyes sparkled with excitement as you presented your creation, eager for his reaction. "What do you think?" you asked, a mix of anticipation and pride coloring your voice as you waited for his assessment of your jack-o-lantern.

"It looks fantastic, doll," he praised enthusiastically, his eyes lighting up as he carefully examined the intricate face you had carved onto the pumpkin. The details were truly impressive, showcasing your artistic talent and creativity. "You've really outdone yourself. I stuck with a boring one."

He then turned to his own creation, a hint of self-consciousness creeping into his voice. "Now, how about mine? I know it's not as exciting or elaborate as yours, but I think I did a decent job, all things considered. What do you think?" He gently rotated his pumpkin, presenting it for your inspection. Despite his modest words, there was an undeniable glimmer of pride in his eyes. Art might not have been his forte, but he had poured his heart into it, feeding on your passion.

You studied his handiwork, you couldn't help but be impressed. It may not have been as flashy as some, but there was an undeniable charm to its simplicity. "Oh, Bucky," you breathed, your voice brimming with genuine admiration, "It's absolutely perfect."

Your praise seemed to bolster his confidence, and a warm smile spread across his face as you continued, "I mean it, you did an incredible job. The symmetry, the clean cuts - it's flawless. It looks like it should be featured on the cover of one of those glossy fall edition home and garden magazines. You know, the ones by the check out stands that always make everything look so effortlessly elegant and seasonal? That's exactly what your pumpkin reminds me of, it’s beautiful."

His cheeks flushed at your heartfelt praise, that pretty blush scattering across his cheeks and nose. Initially, he had thought it was just a simple, perhaps even silly, pumpkin face he had carved. But your sincere words of admiration stirred something within him, creating a warmth that spread from his chest outwards. He found himself basking in the glow of your approval, he was a sucker for praise after all.

At first, he had been hesitant about carving a pumpkin with you, unsure if he would enjoy such a traditional autumn pastime. He hadn’t done it since he was a kid anyway, so it wasn’t something that really crossed his mind. But now, looking at your beaming face and feeling the contentment settling over him, he knew that his initial doubts had been completely unfounded. The simple act of creating something together, sharing laughs, and enjoying each other's company was what it was about. Not the carving, but spending time with you.

"Let's put some candles inside and put them outside! I want to see them in the dark!" You got up and carried your pumpkin to the porch, prompting him to stand too. "Come on, Buck Buck!" You called, the nickname made him chuckle as he picked his pumpkin up, along with the two candles you set to the side.

"I'm comin' sweetheart, wait for me!"

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Cover images from Pinterest

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