#what an absolutely dreadful combination of things!

[sp3akfromtheart]

what's fun about me is that im actually primarily an oc artist, rather than a fan artist, but I am incapable of liking things normally when I really like them, so do I have files upon files on fanart? yes. are they for ONLY THREE FANDOMS???? ALSO YES.

[thethingything]

our current dilema is that the pain from our wisdom tooth keeps getting so bad we have to take pain meds (like it keeps hitting an 8/10 for several hours at a time. we can't not take pain meds) but the only pain meds that touch it have a warning on them saying not to take them for more than 3 days in a row, and we have at least another month of dealing with this, so I don't really know what to do.

the warning is because they're opioids and can cause addiction but I don't actually know how bad the risk is because everything seems to treat it like opioids are the worst thing ever and should be avoided at all costs and you'll get addicted if you so much as glance at them.

either way, my options are to either keep taking them and just accept that risk, or deal with being in so much pain I can't function. even with taking the pain meds I can tell we're a lot more irritable and short tempered and probably just insufferable to be around honestly and I hate the fact that pain causes this, but once again we've got to deal with this for over a month and we've also got to deal with the anxiety over what the treatment for it is going to actually involve.

I've had to deal with medical trauma stuff I didn't even know about until like yesterday when Lucy suggested it might be part of why I feel so shit, and I've had multiple panic attacks per day and constantly feel way more anxious than usual and I get the feeling we're just gonnaa have to put up with this for the next month and I don't know how the fuck I'm meant to cope with any of this

[fairene]

passenger princess / ln4

established relationship lando norris x fem!reader

no use of y/n, as always.

in which the weekend takes a twist, and all you want is a baby.

prompt⋯ hi! first of all, i absolutely ADORE your writing. i’ve been reading all of your stuff for the past few days!! second, i was scrolling on pinterest and i rediscovered the lando daddy bracelet pic. that combined with THE dutch gp pic made me be down even worse for him. with that i request a fic with an established reader x lando relationship. that’s set during the weekend of the 2024 dutch gp. where he wears the bracelet over the course of the weekend and it gets you(? or me? idk how to phrase that) really worked up, and after he wins they fuck while he’s still wearing it. and it’s like the most rough feral sex known to mankind. but at the end you want him to come in you and he’s like “oh you wanna make me a daddy”. like yes it is a slight breeding kink but it’s more of the idea of the bracelet and how he definitely knew what he was doing when he wore it (in the fic and irl too tbh). that’s the general idea but feel free to put your own spin on it!! i am incredibly down bad for him and that photo did something to me. ty 🤗🧡

a/n ⋯ yeah tbh i got no excuse for this one chat...like...how could i not resist a breeding kink...i know y'all want it too. but for real--- thank you anon for being patient. i had a lot of fun writing this in between doing work. writing is an escape for me. thank you to all for the continued support, and i'll be continuing to get through asks as time moves along. comment below to be added to my taglist, or comment in general! i love replying to all of them as much as i can.

warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, choking, p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, breeding kink, impregnation, teasing, possessiveness, jealousy, creampie, begging, mating press-- allat shit tbh. if i miss a warning, let me know.

wc ⋯ 8.5k (unedited.)

things had begun to be different between you and lando. you couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when the gears shifted, the stars aligned, though you only cared how good it made you feel with him. 

but he knew. he knew exactly when.

you’d been dating lando for two years now. it was two years of pure bliss— the exciting lifestyle that you’ve craved, the love and care, the passion that you shared with him was exquisitely yours. he is yours. and you are his.

that morning in the paddock he was speaking to max, chattering about the post collision from hungaroring. they seemed to make up in due time, finding it easier to call one another “brother’s” again, despite the damages done to their cars and the media in an uproar about their impish, punitive behaviors. you didn’t spare any glance towards the comments made about it, knowing that lando had been in a rough shape that weekend. 

you played with penelope, p, as they were talking, squatted on the ground with colored pens in your hand. kelly loomed behind, on her phone, thankful enough that you could occupy her for the time being. you had no issue entertaining her. you loved being around children…most of the time. 

“this one?” you held out the red pen for p, as she was pointing to with a bashful look. she was shy– especially around you, given your ethereal, wanderlust nature. you carried yourself in such an elegant way that could facilitate a ray of sunlight through the most tepid storms. 

she nodded and you handed it to her. she latched her smaller hand around it, coloring in the rb20 from her sketchbook. your hand fell beneath your chin as you watched her carefully color inside the lines, dreading falling out of it. you smiled as she did, the dress you wore crinkling fashionably around your thighs. 

p flashed the page at you nervously, awaiting her input. your eyes glowed, sparkles falling onto the page as you scanned it. she really did do a good job.

“beautiful, p!” you commented, your palm splaying over her upper back. “you’re really good at this, you know?”

a shade of red filled her cheeks, warming her skin. you hadn’t meant to embarrass her, nor make her nervous. 

“do you want to color one with me?” you asked her, pointing to the pages in the book. she hesitated for a moment, as if she didn’t hear you properly, but ended up nodding with the same excitement that she did when she’d see max on the podium. “you pick. something…pretty.”

the gears were turning in her head as she flipped through the pages, trying to find the perfect one for you and her to work on. you, on the other hand, were focused on how her brows scrunched together as she furiously searched through her booklet. it was cute the way she perceived things. she was a cutie. it made you think about your own future, what you wanted. 

what you wanted,

your eyes drifted from the carpeted floors inside the hospitality room, to the shoes that he wore, and up his black jeans to the papaya livery he sported for the day. you lingered on the expanse of his chest, the tan skin peaking through the v-neck of his unbuttoned collar. your mouth watered instinctively, thinking about how lucky you were to have a man like lando love you so deeply.

as you glanced further up towards his chin, the unshaved rigid surface that sparked electricity over your body, you found him already looking down at you. he wasn’t even paying attention to max at this point, already giving you all of his attention and you didn’t even need to ask. 

you gave him a smile, covering your lips afterward to stifle your giggle, and turned back to p once she tapped you that she’d found a picture for the two of you to color.

“mate?”

lando was lost in a daze staring at you. gawking at your figure, the dress you decided to wear. it was a denim colored sheath that you’d twin with alexandra with. she’d wear the gia dress in a pomegranate hue, whereas you took the navy. 

lando’s hand was cupped against his chin, rubbing over his stubble, keen on watching how you interacted with p. 

your relationship had progressed further than he’s ever gotten to before in his life. he was at a point where he knew he didn’t want anyone else, to explore someone else’s body the way he did yours. he knew you, inside and out, and he didn’t think another connection was even fathomable. 

you appeared to be so gentle with her, taking the time to listen to what she wanted you to do, how to color, maneuver the pens. there would be no outside the line coloring on her watch, that was for sure. 

he found himself smiling bright. 

do you want kids? 

he knew that he did. he always knew that. but he’d never broach the subject to you directly. your relationship with him was secure, but was it eligible to be taken to the next level? would you be frightened by his sudden urge to create a life with you? a product of him, and the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen?

“yeah? sorry.” lando looked back towards max. but it was too late, and max was looking over his shoulder towards you and p.

when he looked back towards lando, he threw his hands up in defense. max rolled his eyes. “don’t know why you haven’t proposed to her yet. what’re you waiting for?” 

lando bristled. he waited a moment to answer, wondering the same fucking thing. what was he waiting on? the perfect time, perhaps. summer break was rapidly approaching, and he certainly had a ring picked out. 

the papaya clad driver pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos, settled on the right one, and handed it to max. the other driver took it, zooming in, not that he needed to. 

“when?”

lando shrugged. “summer break. greece, maybe.” 

max cheered, slapping his hand over his mouth in shock. “you’re serious, mate?” lando nodded. max pulled him in for a hug, slapping him over the back. he couldn’t be happier for his best friend in this moment, starting to jump up and down. lando settled him down and slid his phone back into his pocket. 

“keep it quiet. i want her to be surprised.” 

max made a motion of a lock and key. “surprised about what?” 

lando felt giddy.

you hadn’t been paying much attention to what lando nor max were chittering about. you’d been so hyper focused on coloring with p, that you were absent minded of the conversation behind you. 

p had picked out a cartoon illustration of max and lando smiling towards the viewer. you’d thought it was an adorable choice, and it showed that p was more aware than what she led on to be. she, of course, started coloring in max. with his neutrally blonde hair, redbull cap, she was fast working. 

but then she shoved the book towards you, politely anyways, and pointed at lando, who was yet to be colored in. 

“my turn?” she nodded her head, handing you the orange marker. 

you grinned, carefully coloring in the lines of the drawing before p took a deep breath. “are you and lando married?” 

the question had you freeze momentarily, taken back by her question. “no, p, we’re not.” 

you continued to color, whilst she continued to question. “why not?”

“because he hasn’t asked me.”

“why don’t you ask him?” 

“i’m not sure that’s what he wants.”

p raised a brow. she looked towards lando and max, giggling together like school girls, then back to you and your focused coloring.

she handed you a brown marker for lando’s curls. “i think you should.”

now it was your turn to be inquisitive, “really, now?”

she nodded her head without hesitating. “then you’d be my aunt!” she giggled. 

you colored in lando’s curls, carefully, diligently, thinking of how they felt beneath your fingertips. your breath hitched thinking about the thought of him proposing, wondering if he had ever even thought about it. you knew what your answer would be. it wouldn’t even take a beat of your heart to give him in answer, if he chose to ask. if he chose you. 

with one final stripe of a black marker, your drawing of lando had been finished. you stood up, and so did p. 

“are you going to have babies?”

“p!” you gasped, mouth dropping. “that’s none of your business, young lady.” 

she laughed, twirling around. “what? that’s what mama says happens when you love someone.” confident, wasn’t she? “do you love lando?”

“of course i do, p.”

she gasped.

“is there a baby in there right now?!” she seemed concerned, becoming so bold as to touch your stomach. it was a little higher than where your womb sat beneath your skin, but close enough. 

you shook your head. “no, honey. i am not having a baby right now.” 

she looked disappointed. taking her hand back, she crossed them over her chest. 

“penelope, what are you going on about?” kelly finally chimed in, rubbing p’s back with her hand. 

“nothing.” 

but it wasn’t nothing.

lando appeared behind you, a hand on your lower back. you leaned into him, recognizing his touch, and you got a brief wave of panic wondering if he heard your conversation with p. 

“p,” lando said over your shoulder. she looked up. “do you still have your bracelet making kit?” 

she nodded again, though you weren’t quite sure what he’d need it for. you guessed you’d find out eventually, because lando uttered, “it’s a secret, sorry baby.”

and he followed p to her small table, pulling out the kit from her backpack. she had taken lando’s hand to guide him, and you watched fondly. 

too fondly, you thought, and knew you were in deep shit.

the morning of the dutch grand prix had you biting at the corners of your fingernails with anticipation. the summer break you had spent with lando was more than you could imagine— filled with delicious foods, sunny weather, morning swims, and of course, the sex. with more free time that lando had, he was utterly obsessed with you. he worshiped the ground you walked on, and it made you feel like more than the queen you deserved to be. 

in the paddock you stood, shifting on your feet, anxiously fiddling with your purse once your fingernails sufficed. lily joined at your side, ethereal with her effortless beauty, and she nudged you with her elbow. “you look nervous,” she gave a short laugh.

you scoffed but joined in on her antics. “do i?” you certainly did. lily raised her brows to inquire further of your apparent distress. 

relenting, you couldn’t resist her. there was no reason to— you were both practically attached at the hip. ever since oscar had been signed to mclaren, the two of you were inseparable. the famous mclaren WAGs. 

your relationship with lando had been going on for two years now. sure, you’d had some rocky slopes to climb with the schedule of his career and the development of your own; that’s the thing about relationships though, isn’t it? that no matter what hill you’d have to climb, you’d find one another on the other side. the two of you wanted to make it work, so there was no obsolete universe in which you’d never find each other. 

“he needs this, lils.” you practically sighed, finally gaining the courage to look her in the eye. she looked at you with the same softness that a mother would, or a best friend that you could count on. 

“you know he’ll do well.” oh, don’t you know it. lando, whilst on vacation, never took a moment’s worth of rest. he wanted this just as much as you did for him, a second career win. it was all that you could think about the moment you stepped off the plane before him in zandvoort. it was going to happen. you had a feeling. 

and a good one at that. 

qualifying swept by in a flash. the saturday afternoon was a clean sweep for your boyfriend in the front row. you couldn’t be more proud of him. when he was finished with his interviews and taking his leave with his half removed fireguard, you launched at him.

flinging your arms around his neck, he gripped onto your waist and thighs like his life depended on it. it did. your nose found the sweat against the column of his neck, inhaling deeply. you melted into him.

lando felt the same. with his forehead burrowing into the hair on your scalp, he let out a deep breath that he’d been holding since he got out of the car. 

“missed my sweet girl,” he breathed, the sweat and perspiration heating the hairs on your head. you sighed softly, relaxing into him as he held you tighter. 

you broke away from him, setting yourself on the ground. you stood happily in front of him, rocking on your heels and playing with the hem of the black, sponser-ridden firesuit. 

“‘m so fucking proud, lan. pole? pole on the first race back?” you were in shellshock, overjoyed disbelief. 

he raised a hand to cup your face before he’d be whisked away. the bracelet on his wrist caught your eye, one that he must’ve put on once he stepped out of the car. the friendship letter bracelet read loudly to you, it letters all capitalized. 

‘daddy’

you gripped his hand, observing the ornament. you raised a brow. is this the bracelet he had made with p? 

lando let out a short laugh. “like it?” 

you flushed, staring down at the small, dainty thing. it had you shifting on your feet, ideas and fantasies running wild through your pillage of a mind. “maybe.” you hummed, stroking the beads with your index finger. 

“wore it for you.” 

the statement had you standing up straight. “really now?” lando nodded. 

and before he was whisked away, he whispered into your ear, “don’t get any ideas, baby. i know that look.” 

you were rendered speechless, and by the time you managed to open your mouth, he had already left through the door. 

the following day was race day. you were dressed flawlessly, curating perfection with your outfits to match the same prestige that lando had with his fans. also, you enjoyed feeling pretty. looking pretty, as lando would often say to you. he didn’t forget this morning either, arriving to the paddock with you in tow, hand wrapped tightly with yours.

as he took selfie after selfie, signed hat after hat, he didn’t forget to remind you, “you look beautiful,” that always brought a smile to your face, a blush fanning your cheeks. 

when the two of you made it inside of mclaren’s hospitality, you were greeted by both lily and oscar. you gave her a warming hug, and she returned it with the same affirmation. when you separated, she danced on her tip-toes. lando and oscar side stepped toward the tea and coffee station, chatting amongst themselves. 

“wow!” you were confused, raising a brow. “front row for him, hmm? told you, had nothing to worry about.” 

you rolled your eyes, still holding anxieties for the race. you were always concerned going into a weekend. no matter how many grand prix’s you’ve attended, seen lando come out safe and sound, you still picked at the skin of your fingertips. anxious habits die hard. 

lando’s managers came in alongside oscar’s beckoning both mclaren drivers to follow them to get ready for the race. lando found you instantly, his hands finding the handles on your hips, squeezing inward. you tensed at the action, wondering what had him on such edge. 

you spun, hands running from his chest up to his neck, his cheeks. you cupped his face in your hands, sheepishly smiling. 

“you’ll win this for me?”

he scoffed, “always.” 

you smiled harder—if that was possible— and connected your lips with his. he returned your kiss, diving deep into your mouth. he held you close by your lower back, as if this was the last time that he’d ever kiss you. he sought to deepen your kiss by the clacking of your teeth, his tongue incessantly searching the inside of your mouth. 

you separated yourself, still holding onto his cheeks. lando dipped his forehead against yours, seeking another kiss, but you pulled away. “go. they’re waiting for you.” 

“don’t care.” 

you flushed, allowing him one last peck before you patted his cheek. “seriously. go.” 

he chuckled to himself, kissing the top of your head, uttering a soft “i love you,” before being swept away. 

“i love you too.” you mouthed, returning your attention back to lily. she was in awe of how you and lando behaved, carving such a rugged, playful boy into a man of posture and mannerisms that were only reflected by your good nature. 

“what?”

“nothing…” she looked away.

“lily.” 

“you’ve got that man on a leash,” she broke into a fit of giggles. you looked back to where they were walking out. lando had been looking for you, then at you. he gave a wave, you returned it, then looked back at lily. 

“i prefer the term ‘free-roaming.’” 

the race was coming to an end with a single lap left. lando led the race with a twenty-two second lead, and your hands were clasped tightly together with your headset on. you listened carefully to his radio messages, sassy and revving, and had your eyes locked onto the screen in front of you. with lily by your side, the two of you were anxiously awaiting the end.

your face suddenly appeared on screen, displaying your glistening eyes, perfectly done makeup and hair. a chic smile grew on your cheeks. you turned towards the camera man and allotted a small wave. your name appeared under the screen, lando norris’ partner. 

god…

was there anything more prideful than that?

surely there was, but it didn’t matter to you. you were there to support your boyfriend, lando, your lando, and it was more than enough to see that you were recognized as that. 

the checkered flag appeared and lando was on the headline for crossing. you had to clutch your heart, hoping to grip it from the inside out to slow its beating, and it didn’t cease when his mcl38 zipped past the flag. 

there was an eruption of cheers throughout the garage and you were swarmed with love by the fellow mechanics and lily, too, who was happy for you to witness such a grand victory. a more than well earned victory. 

a second one in the books for him. you couldn’t have been happier. 

the podium gathering didn’t take long, and you managed to be at the front of the barricade, shoved forward by the team. you stood there, graceful and beautiful as he always saw you, and you were the loudest to clap and cheer as he walked out from the cool down room. 

“your winner, lando norris…!” and you couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks, the camera picking up your emotional feedback on the big screen. his eyes caught to it from the bannister, stepping up onto the tallest podium, and found you right at the front. his heart melted, dripped a red hot flame that burned for you. to see you there for him, emotional above all, solidified his feelings. what he wanted in his future. 

you. you above anything else. you above racing, his career, his everything. he had nothing if you weren’t by his side. 

he took off his pirelli hat and let the national anthem play. the camera panned away from you then to zak brown. you swayed gently to the anthem, lost in your own world of loving him. you saw him through clear glasses, though he was always your rose. there was nothing more that you wanted in the future than to be with him. you and lando. 

after his attributed champagne pop, the crowd dissipated from the pit lane and you engaged in conversations with different women, friends, and coworkers of mclaren. you were jovial with your presence, engaged as much as you could be, though your thoughts kept tracing back to him. lando, lando, lando. 

you ended your evening in conversations with the ferrari women— alexandra, rebecca, and one of charles’ friends, marta. you’re a recent acquaintance, meeting her only just a few moments ago. she was noticeably pregnant, and you wondered if that was just the recurring theme of the day. 

“how far along are you?” rebecca chimed in. 

“about twenty weeks, i think.” she smiled, holding her bump and leaning back into one of her heels to get a more comfortable angle. 

“half way there! are you excited?” you asked her, sipping your sparkling water. 

“of course,” she grimaced, though there was joy behind her eyes. “it can be hard, but it’s worth it. always worth it to see my husband with my daughter, and now it’ll be brand new with this babe.” 

you gave her a heart-warming smile. 

“they kick every so often—” she grimaced again, reeling her face into a tight knot. “like right now. do you want to feel?” she was looking at you. it took you a second to understand that she was referring to you, but you jumped at the opportunity.

“are you sure…?” 

marta nodded. “put your hand here,” she placed your hand on her right side. you waited a moment before there was a small lurch beneath your palm. you looked up at her in pure disbelief, marveled by such a feeling. you wondered what it’d feel like to feel your own baby kick. 

“so…” alexandra leered mischievously, “do you plan on having children? with lando?” 

is everyone asking that today?

you stood up straight, embarrassed by the question, and brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. “for sure. there’s no one else i want. whenever the time is right.” 

“he’d be such a good dad.” alexandra added, and you couldn’t agree more.

“you should’ve seen him earlier with penelope—” the girls were reeling at your story. “making bracelets with her. almost tripped over my own dress,” you covered your mouth to laugh, attempting to keep your voice down.

“someone has baby fever.” marta commented. 

“ugh,” rebecca groaned. “you two are picturesque. alex and i were just talking about it.” 

“oh?” you wished to know more by their insinuation. it wasn’t often that you listened to anything about you or lando’s relationship. half of the time it was negative comments from fans across social media, and you didn’t want the other half to get to your head. you knew you were lucky as is, the least you could do was stay humble. 

“ohhhh most definitely.” alexandra nodded. “you’ve been together for what— ever? we’re waiting for an engagement post.” 

you were floored. it has been a good amount of time. “so am i,” it came as a laugh. you wondered if lando thought about it. if the thought ever crossed his mind— the possibility of you becoming his wife. 

it did. 

he was watching you. he’d been done with his interviews for a good ten minutes now, but he was gripped by the scene unfolding before him. he had distracted himself by glancing at his phone, pretending to be scrolling through notifications. but he was staring. hard. 

your hand was so tender-loving as it grazed marta’s baby bump. you looked up at her with a graceful smile, asking her important questions about her pregnancy. why were you so interested? 

fuck, he hoped the answer he wanted was what you were thinking. 

you, pregnant in your floral dresses, pleated gowns, traipsing around the halls of your joint home. barefoot, glowing, effervescent. he could see it now. the vision coming to life, coming to fruition from just a mere fantasy. he felt his dick twitch in his pants, his groin running hot.

he overheard the conversation, too. 

“do you plan on having children? with lando?” 

for sure. there’s no one else i’d want. 

fuuuuck. lando had to turn around, attempting to calm himself down. his entire body was aflame, an eternal gloss of bliss for wanting you. needing you. he needed to feel you. your touch. your skin beneath him, the way you curl effortlessly against the shape of his body.

yeah, he’s fucked. 

after a few calming deep breaths, he was at least presentable. with his calmed down cock, he immediately made a beeline in your direction. he wanted—no, needed to get his hands around you as soon as possible. it was a world-ending feeling that suffocated him, gripped him by the throat. 

you heard him approach before you saw him. lando’s hands were warm around your hips as he pulled you close. you felt the outline of his cock in his pants as he jut his hips forward. you turned your head over your shoulder, glancing up at him. 

his nose found a home in the curve of your neck. you giggled when you felt his stubble tickle your skin, a hand coming instinctively to hold the side of his face tight against your skin. he breathed soundly against you, finding eternal peace of mind plastered against your body.

“it was nice seeing you alex, rebecca.” you began to bid your farewells. “marta, it was a pleasure to meet you.” marta leaned in for a hug, which pulled you away from the warmth of lando’s body. you felt like a snail ripped from its shell— hollow, cold. 

“the same for you,” pregnancy looked good on her. though, you can’t recall the last time you’ve seen her without a baby blooming inside her. “if you ever need advice…alex has my number.” 

you blushed, feeling lando’s hand around your lower belly tense. “thank you. i’ll be in touch.” you glance towards rebecca and alexandra, following lando’s pace back to the car.

lando’s eyes were hot as they drilled holes into the side of your head. you could feel it, though you weren’t even looking at him. “i can feel your urge to talk, lan.” 

he laughed, holding your hand tight in his. “no. no, it’s nothing.” 

you stopped dead in your tracks, pulling your hand from his, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“okay, okay,” he apologized, taking your hand back into his own, bringing it to his lips to kiss. his lips were warm and wet against your skin. your breath hitched.

“well, go on, then.” 

“this is the congratulations i get? damn, baby, you’re rugged.” 

you shoved his face away, beginning to walk back to the car once more. “you know i’m proud. don’t be silly, now.” 

“i know, i know,” there was a brief silence. “you can show me in other ways.” 

“lando!” you gasped, and he broke into a fit of laughter. “dirty bastard.” you mumbled. 

“what was that, baby?” 

“nothing. nothing. just like what you wanted to tell me, i guess.” two can play at this game. you heard him scoff, but ultimately relent. 

“alright, alright. i just…” he became shy with the tone of his voice. you could recognize it instantly. “heard your conversation with the girls, is all.” 

you attempted your best effort to still your facial expressions from annoyance, shock, embarrassment, and all of the fucking above. 

 “you heard…all of it?” 

“the gist.” 

you tried to cover your face to shield yourself from the world. god, that was your fucking nightmare. you hadn’t ever even touched upon a subject like that with him before. and now he had heard it from you talking to your girlfriends? oh, you just felt like the worst girlfriend in the world right now. 

“fuck. i didn’t mean to—” 

“no, baby,” he opened the car door for you to slip into the passenger seat. you stepped in, gripping his forearm to sit down. 

when he climbed in himself and turned over the engine, you shifted to face him. before you could even open your mouth to speak, he cut you off. 

“i want kids, too, you know. with you.” 

“oh.” a weight lifted from your shoulders in that moment, and then you felt utterly stupid for thinking that he would’ve reacted badly. this is your lando you’re talking to. a man you can share anything with. “you do?” 

he looked flabbergasted. “you’re joking, right?”

you shot your hands up in defense. “i don’t know! children aren’t exactly…temporary. i just— i didn’t know if you thought of me—”

“you’re permanent, love.” his hand wrapped around your thigh as he pulled out of the driver’s lot, whipping past the fans that were keen on snapping a picture of him. 

though you’ve known that, deep down, it still hit you like the first time he told you that he loved you. a jaw-dropping epiphany that had been right in front of you the whole time. you’d been short-sighted, enjoying every moment that you had with him, and had become unknowing about the future you’ve been perpetuating with him.

you covered his hand with your own, playing with the bracelets around his wrist. the charm bracelet ‘daddy’ dangled between your fingers, rolling the beads over and over again. 

“you’d make a good daddy, wouldn’t you?” you said the words under your breath, but even he could hear them like you’d shouted them in his face. he tightened his grip around your thigh.

“don’t say things like that,” he shook his head, eyes locked on the road ahead. 

the air became heavy between you two. when wasn’t it? not only did passion run through your veins, but heinous desire breathed life to your souls. 

“why?” you stroked the top of his hand with your nails. “you heard what i said to the girls.” his head lolled against the back rest. “what’s different now?” 

you felt the car accelerate. it vibrated the cushion you were nestled atop of, sending shockwaves through your cunt.

“driving me fucking nuts, darling.” 

you knew you were. it was the secret to your relationship— the two of you understanding what made you tick. seethe with lust until there was no other option for you to climb him like a tree.

it didn’t take long before he reached the hotel, pulling up to the front. you were getting your things to get up, but he was lost on his phone, pretending to be busy. “coming?” you asked.

“pfft—” you could see him roll his eyes through the rearview mirror. “i wish. give me a second.” you couldn’t help but huff to yourself under your breath, stepping out of the car with your heels clinking to the ground.

 with your purse over your shoulder you stepped up onto the curb, but was distracted by a small voice echoing over your shoulder. 

down the sidewalk was a mother and a stroller. you smirked lowly, taking only the few steps it’d take to reach the mother and child. 

“oh my gosh,” you squealed. the mother was taken back, but by your demeanor and eyes on her baby, she returned a smile. by her pink bonnet and bunny swath, you knew she was the cutest thing you’d ever laid eyes on. “she is just the cutest thing!” 

“thank you,” the woman said.

“she looks just like her mama,” you heard lando’s car door open, most definitely within earshot. “don’t you, sweet thing? yes you do!” you cooed at the baby, who erupted in a fit of louder giggles and mumbles. 

the mother was flushed, but happy. “you’re too kind. you’re good with children? do you have any of your own?” 

jackpot..!!

you clutched your purse as you stood up straight. you played into your theatrics, “oh gosh, i wish! my husband and i have been trying for ages, but he’s just so busy with work…” 

the woman tsked with disappointment for you. “you’d make a beautiful mother,” 

“you think so?” 

she nodded her affirmation. 

“that’s so sweet of you.” you were really milking this scene, especially that you knew lando was listening. 

“is that your husband there?” she pointed to over your shoulder. and there he was, your husband, watching the two of you from behind the ajar car door. 

“mmm, yes, it is.” you offered a cordial wave to him. he stuck two fingers up for a lazy wave, waiting for you to return to him. “i should go. it was a pleasure, ma’am. your baby is adorable.”

she nodded a thanks, and you took your sweet time walking back to the car. you could hear lando tapping the windshield incessantly. before his head dipped down back into the car he called, “get back in.” 

you…admit, you were confused. brows furrowed, you opened the passenger side door and bent down, “why—?”

“get in the car,” your name was a rumble in his chest. you still didn’t know what he was doing nor going, and your stubborn self wouldn’t settle for a verbal answer.

you took too long for him. gripping your arm, he pulled you into the passenger seat, and you landed on your ass with a ‘thump’. 

he fired up the engine again and pulled out of the traffic circle of the hotel. he radiated with heat— you could feel it from where you sat. “where are we going?” 

he didn’t answer you. 

you crossed your arms and legs, looking out the window. the area was unknown to you, but lando always seemed like he knew where he was going. 

it took only a minute for him to pull into an empty level of a parking garage, dimly lit with only one overhead light at the entrance of the ramp. he put the car in park. 

“what are we—”

you couldn’t finish your sentence until you were on his lap, hands gripping your waist so tightly that you had to gasp for air. 

“husband?” 

oh

oh…!

well, this was a change you welcomed with open arms. 

he lowered the seat back until you were straddled atop of him, fingers aimlessly toiling with the zipper of his jeans. 

“don’t know what you’re—”

he snapped upward, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “baby,” he breathed, and you shivered. “what do you want?”

your hips naturally moved back and forth against his own, dress hiked well above your stomach. his hand snaked between your legs, feeling the wet patch in your underwear. he hummed when you didn’t reply, flicking his finger upward to graze your clit. 

you mewled. 

“what was that?”

your hand twisted around the hem of his shirt. you were already breathless, clenching around nothing except the sound of his words. 

“tell me,” he muttered, staring up at your disheveled state. he made quick work of sliding your panties to the side, massaging the folds of your cunt between his fingers. you continued your writhing against him. 

“want you,” was what you managed to breathe out, hips rutting against his palm. he tsked, but allowed you this moment. a moment for him to bask in the way that you move your hips, writhe against his clothed cock that was egregiously hardening by the second and each amount of pressure you applied. 

he slid his fingers in and out of you with ultra maneuvering, in and out, all around. he was a mastermind when it came to feeling you up, exploring you both on the outside, and the in. you were in heaven, ultimately, when he curled his fingers so deeply upon thrusting them. your cunt tightened so viciously around him that he groaned, his head falling back and his hardened cock thrusting upward. to no avail, his dick was strained against the cloth of his pants.

“fuck,” he cussed, curling his fingers over and over again. your body began to shiver, and only began to fall from grace when his thumb traced against your clit. stimulation grew hotter and hotter, until you let out a piercing moan from the depths of your throat. he angled his fingers differently, making you squirm.

“lando!” you breathed, feeling your climax creeping up on you faster than you could even blink. your core tightened, a coil of veracious flames churning around each other manifesting a slew of energy that released sparks from your nerves. your folds were inflamed, puffy, beating hot that you couldn’t think straight. lando was touching you with his other hand anywhere that he could reach. he palmed your breasts through your dress, twisted a nipple to earn a delicious squeal. 

“come on, sweet thing,” he encouraged you with that stupid lopsided smile of his, you were looking down on him, sweat beading at his forehead, pupils blown dark and wide. his hand that was groping your breast moved upward, threading around the column of your throat. “show daddy what you’re made of.” 

his hand tightened, and you felt the coil snap. he continued to pump his fingers in and out, maneuvering so perfectly, hitting that exact spot with precision. 

he knew you came when your eyes rolled back into your head, legs quivering around his waist. god, you’re a sexy thing. 

his hand loosened from around your neck, dropping to your chest, fiddling with the van cleef necklace he had gifted you. it reeked of possession, marking you as his with the “l.n.” initials engraved on the back of the golden surface.

the moment of bliss passed before he was pulling the zipped down from your dress and throwing it from over your head. your panties were next, though the fabric was thin as is. there you were, bare and glistening, before your so-called ‘husband’ as you had worded it. he wouldn’t forget it, a spark igniting within him that was lit by the phrase leaving your tongue. he didn’t think that it would affect him so much—

but it did. 

he made quick work of his own pants, shoving them down to his knees beneath you, breathless and needy. 

you gripped the hem of his shirt. he lifted his arms to hasten the process, and the shirt went to the back seat. with his skin exposed, you couldn’t help but run your hands along his tan, toned chest. it made you dripping wet, though he was barely touching you now. 

with your skin atop of his, carnage was sure to ensue. he took a drag of his fingers against your wet cunt and brought it to his lips. he sucked on them, releasing with a ‘pop.’ your mouth hung open in anticipation for what he was going to do next. he always kept you on your toes. 

but this…this is not what you expected. 

he took a ring from his index finger, plated in silver, and slid it onto your ring finger on your left hand. the wedding finger. 

it stuck to your sweaty palm, sure enough to not slip off. 

“let’s make it official then, pretty girl.” 

you sat upon him astonished, looking down at the adornment that he had given to you. it dazzled on your finger. 

“if you’re my wife, what does that make me?”

the words trembled from your lips, thighs tightening around his own. you could feel his dick sprung to life against your backside. “my husband.” 

“good, baby, you learn fast.” 

you gulped, finally taking a look at him from his propped upright position. he was downright smitten with you, guzzling everything about you inside of him. you were his, so much fucking so, that he was going to ruin you. and he didn’t even feel bad for wanting it. 

“my husband…” you repeated, lowering your face down to meet his own. he smelled so good—a mix of sweat and his cologne. 

his hand tangled into your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail to meet your eye level. 

“makes me fucking crazy when y’say it…” 

you knew that was the truth. you’d known the minute you sat down in the car. his demeanor had changed, shifted to something darker that you didn’t quite understand. it was insane enough as is that you’d discovered so many things about him within a short period of time. 

“husband, daddy…what’s the difference?” you cooed, kissing up and down his neck. he groaned, landing a smack on your ass that had you giggling. 

“‘ll just make you a mommy if you keep throwin’ that word ‘round.” 

you grinned ear to ear. against his cheek, you took a deep breath in, before letting go. 

“daddy.” 

if you’ve ever made a good decision in your life, this has to be the best. a switch flipped. gears started to turn in his head. the spark plug burst into flames. 

you were his undoer,

the key to his shackled restraint,

the sun to his universe.

it was always you. you’d been right in front of him for the past two years. two years to get to this point. two years for the woman he loved most in this world to be sucking his neck whispering ‘daddy’ into his ear. 

lando sat upright in the seat. with a hand at the back of your head, he forced eye contact with you. this was different. this look. you could feel it in your heart, your folds, as they began to beat synchronously. life with him was euphoria, and sex had been the serendipitous release for both of you. 

but seeking the future together?

heaven incarnate.

despite being locked inside such a tight space, lando managed to swap your position with a suave move. you were on your back, shocked by his carnal rampage, as he hooked your legs upward. your toes scathed the ceiling of the car, pressed deep into the metal chassis. 

“kiss me,” you demanded with the breath that you could take. he didn’t waste a second, leaning down to your lips and capturing you with the most breathtaking press that he could muster. his tongue and your own fought for dominance over one another; you lost, quickly, unable to match his revered pace. 

he wanted to eat you from top to bottom. devour your insides, carry you with him every day of his life. you would be his, one way or another, and he didn’t care how it was. 

lucky enough, you were more than willing to be his bride, his lover, his person. 

because he was yours. 

then he was inside of you. braving the treachery of your tight walls, he hissed when the tip of his cock slipped through your folds. you’d been dripping on the leather seat. 

“fuck, baby…” his head fell to the crevice of your neck and collarbone. 

“oh my goddd…” the moan you both let out was terribly lewd, grotesque, even, with how he didn’t start a pace. you both savored this sweet moment of lust, passion, and a figurative toast to a lifelong commitment to fucking one another. 

with each thrust he took, he aimed to make a statement. deeper and deeper he penetrated you, his cock crafted of divine measure with how he quartered your g-spot. 

you could never stay still beneath him. it had him on edge the way you squirmed. dare say it was one of the most favorite things about you, though the list would be never-ending. you shiver from pleasure, leaning into him as your cunt squelches beneath you. 

echoes of moans bounce off the interior of the car, whilst a smile of greed and possession conceives on his own cheeks. the angle he has you at is deeper than any that you’ve had before— it left no room for noncommittal nature, no room for you to complain about wanting him closer, more, more, more. 

“y’feel me here?” his hand rest on your lower belly, your womb, as he applied pressure. you do feel him there. the indent of his cock is poignant, bulging out from the skin. 

“mhm…!” you whine, trying to keep your mouth shut from the onslaught of moans pouring out. 

his attention turned to your tits as he swallowed a nipple whole with his tongue, sucking feverishly at the sensitive bud. it had you weak, dribbling to puddy. 

he could only think about how you’d look pregnant. swollen tits, round belly, glowing with his child. 

“this what you wanted?” he grunted, his pace quickening. you were too dumb to speak, a droplet of drool leaking from your mouth. “hm? fuck you—fuck, fill you up?” 

your back arched at the sentence, not knowing that his words could have such an arousing effect on you. this arousal was different. the way you clench around him was different. your actions spoke a lot louder than your words. 

“yeah? i can feel you, darling.” sounds of skin slapping and your hoarse voice could only be heard. he fucked you so good, treated you even better. fuck it, you’d rather be pregnant than anything else. 

“please, please…” you didn’t know what you were pleading for, in truth— he was already fucking you like he’d been in a rut. 

“yeah? that what you want? want a baby?” 

your head nodded furiously up and down, tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks. lando bent down to kiss them away, followed by a capturing of your lips. he swallowed your breaths, your moans. he trailed kisses down the column of your throat; your collarbones, breasts, nipples, nothing went untouched by his mouth. 

“god…these…” he muttered against your tits, voice sending shockwaves through your body. “imagine how big they’d be.” he managed to chuckle to himself. “swollen and beautiful,” he kissed the top of your abdomen. 

“lando…”

his head shot up from his daze. 

“the time is right. please, please—” your words seemed to hit him like a truck. the foreplay had turned reality, and he was more than ready to lurch into fate. 

“what, pretty girl?”

your face flushed, biting your lip. “give me a baby, need it—lan, need it so bad.” your hand found the back of his neck, tugging on the strands of his hair. 

he tsked, his pace evening out to a level throttle. your lips formed a sweet pout, and he stroked your chin with his index finger. “give you?” he mocked. “oh, don’t think that’s how we ask, do we?”

“lan…please, please, can i have your baby? need it so bad lando, need it…” you swallowed your breath. “daddy…wanna make you a daddy…please.” 

it was more than enough for him. “atta girl.” he grunted, deepening his lackluster thrusts into thrilling rides on his cock. “y’learn fast…kids ‘r gonna be so smart.” 

“yes, yes! so good, lan.” you heaved, the heat in your cunt finding a boiling point, and he felt it by how tight you became around him. 

“go on, baby, take it. be a good girl and take it all.” you’d do anything to hear your lando call you a good girl. it had been more than enough to send you over the edge into a spiraling orgasm that had slick seeping around his cock. your vision whitened, and you could only see the shadow of your ‘husband’ through the light. 

with sloppy thrusts, lando came with ease. he didn’t pull out urgently, letting his cum soak inside of you. he peppered kisses along your ankles, your calves, and let them fall to the seat. 

out of breath, your chests rose and fell at a rapid pace. lando’s forehead connected with your own, and through the haze of post-sex, he smiled at you. 

you smiled back. the two of you broke into a laugh. 

“fuckin’ knew that was gonna happen today.” he commented lazily into your chest. a hand of yours threaded through his brown curls. 

“your mastermind plan to babytrap me.” 

he raised a brow. “did you plan on leaving?”

you gave him a knowing look. “not in the slightest.” 

he became embarrassed and sheepish as he hid his face into your ribs. “no chance of it, now.” 

you chuckled, flexing your fingers to see the ring still there. “i want a real proposal, by the way.” 

his head shot up. “what? this wasn’t good enough?”

you palmed his face with one hand, and tugged the back of his curled head with the other. “bastard.” 

it only took you two ten minutes to get your clothes back on from such a leisurely excursion from the empty parking garage. covered in his spit, sweat, and cum, you didn’t feel….dirty. 

when he finally pulled up to the valet and opened the door for you, you stepped out as graciously as possible. though your hair was a tangled mess— you tried your best. lucky enough it was late enough to where minimal paparazzi were gathered. thank god. 

you shifted on your feet, shimmying the dress down, but lando came to your rescue. he pulled the dress down where it was crumpled at the back, caught between the hem of your soaked underwear. 

“that was a rental, wasn’t it?” you pointed out, looking over your shoulder.

“they should auction it.” 

you spun around and laughed in his face, gagged by the ego he has. “you have a big head.” 

“need all that room for you.” 

“cheesy.” 

lando’s eyes lit up— though exhausted from the day and your antics, the sun still rose for him— “almost forgot—” he reached into his pocket whilst you waited patiently. 

he pulled out a bracelet.

a friendship bracelet. 

“thought it suited you.” he put it around your wrist, and you analyzed it clearly. in white, capitalized letters it read:

“MOMMY”

“you really had this thing planned.” you were impressed. 

he shifted on his heels, throwing his hands up as if saying ‘what can i say?’ “p thinks you’re pregnant now.” 

you gasped. “lando!” 

“i mean…hopefully.” he winked as you fiddled with the jewelry, still not bothering to take off the ring from your finger. 

“well…” you brought a finger to your lips, thinking, “we have to be certain, don’t we?” 

lando was catching your drift as you walked backwards towards the entrance of the hotel, luring him in with your charisma. “perhaps…”

“so…we need to try again.” he wasn’t going to argue with that. “and again.” or that. “and again, for good measure.” 

“you’re gonna kill me, baby.” he whined, chasing you up the steps. you squealed, running forward. inside the elevator you two went, clicking the floor for your room. 

after further inspection, lando’s brows furrowed after he glanced over you. “what?” 

he covered his mouth to shield his devious smile. 

“what, lando?” 

he coughed to hide his amusement, but it was a very bad act. “you’re…”

“what?” 

“you’re dripping.”

you looked down at your thighs and saw the glistening reflection of his cum seeping out of you. fuck. maybe the first time was the charm, but you hoped it wasn’t. 

you really hoped it wasn’t. 

tags ; @landoslutmeout@basicallyric@mybluesoul1@toriiez@customsbyjcg-blog@sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch

[thatdeadaquarius]

About your language brainrot. I see your "Reader's writing can't match tyvat's long and flowery writing" and bring you "Tyvat isn't used to books over 50 pages long so a short story to the Reader is a whole dictionary to tyvat readers".

Seriously, have you seen how thin the books are? They don't wrote novels, they write short chapters formatted in the way really old stories are. As in, summarizing all the events down into one smooth story then adding a few quotes. Fanfiction writers are insane. They will willingly sit down and write hundreds of words at a time. To them, a proper modern day story of maybe, oh 10k words or so, would probably be like the Oddessy itself.

If we were to combine the two headcanons. It would end up as many historians being intimidated by this insanely long written scripture in the language of the forgotten.

I'm going to take this a step further and say that if the creator asked some people to proofread their things, it would establish a hiarchy of who is able to actually finish the book the creator read and who isn't.

NOW THIS, THIS IS MY FUCKING JAMMMM

I'm so sorry this is so old!! u probably all know this by this point that I've really slowed down as the year has gone on, but I graduated university and then got my first job so its been pretty crazy!

Sun: Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: dash of all the book/nerds of Genshin, heavy on Sumeru?

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Cussing, 16+ Mature Audiences, Spoliers for Sumeru Archon Quests/Scaramouche, & Trigger Warnings: mention of shipping/characters shipping themselves with you.

Comment if any missed, please.

☆

FULL STOP.

THE AKADEMIYA, FONTAINE RESEARCH INSTITUTE, HAVE BEEN WAITTTINNGGGG ON YOUR ASS LMAO

You fall from the fucking sky like a 5 star, or pop out of the Irminsul or whatever

and immediately are mobbed by scholars. LMAO jkjk (not really, bc that's what it’d feel like)

can you even imagine the dread older stories(”the classics” to them), that was instilled in the poor students around Teyvat??

id like to think ur works are the most preserved over the thousands of years of Teyvat archeologists excavating them, in comparison to other authors (teyvat just likes you more, suck it William Shakespeare)

also, bc I cant resist language differences/world building I'm sorryyyy 😭 😭

the vocab of Genshin lang vs. ours, has significantly less vocabulary like their actual dictionary is 1/3 the size of ours type of energy

(Omfg all ur fanfics being considered like insanely long realistic romantic classics or tragedies like Jane Austen-level, and only the richest and biggest play companies put on plays about ur stories bc the script goes on for hours)

(ur plays only get put on for rlly big events bc of this, like Lantern Rite or like a Summer/Winter festival/your birthday, which is, yes, an international holiday)

dude the sheer power move of anything you’ve written being essentially “Journey of the West” to them, like Damnnn.

endless like adaptations, plays, Teyvat-short stories condensing it, (THEIR OWN FANFICTION ABOUT UR STORIES)

the power is, in fact, going to your head every time another scholar both deflates at how long ur stuff is, but also lights up bc they get to read it

speaking of scholars… you know who snatched you up first. you know. you don’t even need to read the next line.

Alhaitham.

sneaky bastard he is, absolutely manipulated, mansplained (and manwhored bc he knows he’s handsome, cheeky little shit) his way into getting you to sit down with him and interview you about both translating other classics, your own, giving your own analysis of others works and ur own, and picking ur brain apart of how/why you wrote urs, etc. its fucking endless,

Kaveh had to come rescue you bc u were starving to death after getting stuck with the Haravatat scholar in his office for nearly 7 hours of interrogation discussion about literature

and Alhaitham wasn't even nearly done, he’d informed you as you left that he already had another appointment for later conversation scheduled (how?? you don't even know ur own schedule??? you have a schedule???) and was looking forward to more of your “creative and enlightening input” :)))

(you’re never going to escape him, not even Nahida herself can save you from his stubborn ass)

On another note, Xingqiu is quaking when you agree to autograph his copy of your stories (of which he has all hard covers of the first edition translations)

Zhongli/Rex Lapis is known for having a near-lifelong passion for searching for your works specifically, and learning how to translate them better into Teyvatian vernacular

like the same way he can absolutely speak on Rex Lapis facts/rocks/adepti info, is the same confidence he speaks about knowing ur work lol

(yes he did also ask for several autographs and another sit-down talk about the works, tho a lot more sneaky then Alhaitham bc he just casually gets u guys into it during dinner)

Barbatos/Venti has written some of the most famous songs based on your stuff, he has his favorites too,

but he always claims the best songs are any that have been written in the story, like either when a character sings something, or there are like quotes from songs ur fanfics are based on lol

(he also demanded to hear what they actually sound like from you, yes, you have to sing them for him lol)

Venti also can surprisingly drunkenly ramble the entirety of at least one of ur stories, like, word for word lmao

(Diluc gave in and did give him a drink on the house for that one, just once, Venti doesn’t remember it lol)

(I forgot to mention, u guys still speak the same language, just like, different versions of it)

ur works being one of the few things all the Archons can freely talk about with each other, like it’s neutral ground bc they’re all fangirling about it lmao

Furina and Neuvillette have had like,, fierce debates over the decades about character dynamics and the general drama of ur stories, they’ve gotten into it enough they’ve stopped talking to each other for a couple days a few times lol

Albedo, Sucrose, Kokomi, Yae Miko, Ei, Raiden, have read every single work they’re gotten their hands on in Teyvat (it took them like a literal year or longer)

Albedo drew you fanart for every single story, bc he’s hyperfixated on everything related to you ngl,

Kokomi had commissioned smaller pocket versions of ur works (which later got popular thanks to Yae Miko) both the OG and the Teyvat shortened versions

THE HARBINGERS ARE THE MOST DOWN BAD LMAO

Childe has literally tried to recreate battle scenes from ur works lmao

and gets especially riled up about fighting someone who resembles any characters from them (esp villains, what a cutie)

You cannot fathom the amount of research throughout Teyvat that has been secretly or indirectly funded by Pantalone/Tsaritsa

from the experts to analyze them, to funding play companies to act them out, to actually excavating places to get more of ur stuff unearthed

(the Harbingers absolutely are the first group of people that got to read several of ur stories first bc of this, like the world’s most exclusive secret book club lol)

Scaramouche used to clown on Childe all the time about how he was too impatient to even “sit down and read the King’s classics”, and he was downright insufferable when he found out about Tartaglia’s habit of recreating battle scenes/that being what motivated him to fight sometimes lol

that being said, Wanderer surprisingly never forgot ur stories.

Even when his memories were wiped for a bit, he found comfort in these fantastical epics still sticking around, even when his old names did not

(he mayyyy or mayyy nottt have secretly namedhimselfafteroneofthetragicprotagonistsherelatesto- )

oh btw, Nahida also found joy and comfort in ur stories when she was trapped, they also helped her literally grow as a person bc she had ur stories to help her sort of process the world/what life was like outside of her dreaming prison 🥺💔❤️‍🩹

◇

OMFG

ANYWAY FULL TONE SHIFT LMFAO-

the ABSOLUTE SPIRAL-RED-STRING-CONSPIRACY-THEORY-BOARD ENERGY IF THIS WAS A BLUNT LANGUAGE AU LMAOOOO

like specifically how Teyvatians like to give all the context ever thru their words, but older deities/beings like you just do simple phrases that can have deeper meanings (whereas teyvat just explains all the meanings behind their words)

STOP there’s like an official display at the Akademiya and Fontaine Institute of red string theory boards 😭😭 (look what you’ve done to themmm LMAO)

for like every story of urs, INCLUDING THE FANFICS STOP

IMAGINE THE SHIPPING WARS IF U EVER WROTE ONE THAT WASNT EXPLICIT OR LIKE ONE OF THE MAIN ROMANTIC INTERESTS HAD CHEMISTRY WITH OTHER CHARACTERS HAHAHAHAA

that's actually what Akademiya scholars argue about the most viciously, it’s like politics you can’t just bring up ships from ur stories casually in regular convos 💀

(poor Cyno has to deal with a shipping war once a year bc someone always makes the mistake of reading ur work for the first time (without being told to not talk to others abt ships lol) and it starts an all out brawl in the cafeteria every time LMAO)

Also yes.

Cyno is a fanboy.

(he has read Creator x Reader-insert fanfiction.)

(As have most of the characters mentioned, and those not lol)

…

(I'm gonna make a whole Creator x reader fanfic post one day i stg lmao)

☆

an iced coffee? for me?? :0

ok but real talk…

wtf do you guys wanna see for new years!!

i didn't do a inktober/october days thingy bc i felt too unprepared (and bc id wanted to post that 1000+ followers eldritch au for Halloween)

but now i kinda wanna, at least for a few days :o

ill post a poll in a minute, so check it out!! but still, please feel free to comment some ideas here! :)

Safe Travels Deafening Dreamer,

💀♒

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[feverdreamjohnny]

"Why There Will Never Be a Peeb Adventures" otherwise known as "The Peeb Adventures Pre-Mortem"

Since 2020, I've made a good chunk of games. Hell, even though I've been doing this for 10 years to date, the majority of my progress as a creative began over the course of this 4 year period.

Out of all the games I've made - or otherwise had a hand in - there is only one that's apparently struck a chord so deeply with people that to this day I still get messages and comments asking when it will come out.

The title of this post already explains the whole deal so I'm not gonna be dramatic about it right here. As per usual, I will instead get heart-clutchingly dramatic about the subject by the end of this story.

I felt the idea of a "Pre-Mortem" might be a fun way to talk about games that will never be finished. Maybe I'll make more of these down the line for other old games, who knows.

"The Incredibly True Origins of Peeb Adventures" or "Wow! I Hate It!"

Peeb Adventures began as a gift game for my long-time friend Aaron. It was simple, mostly functioning as a fun little gag that stemmed from a 3D model I made of a character he doodled during a drawpile session. I gave Peeb a grapple hook just because I wanted to experiment with swinging mechanics and felt the gag gift was a great space to toy around in without having to actually ask myself how on earth I'd want to structure a game around a grappling hook. Foreshadowing!

Eventually, the gag gift did that classic thing all developers have experienced before where your game spirals out of control and grows into a hideous monster, and what started as a fairly abstract grappling toy convergently evolved into that dreaded state we call a "3D Mascot Platformer."

I made a very short demo in the summer of 2020. It went absolutely nowhere, and after an idol of mine caught wind and asked to play it (before sending about 3 paragraphs of feedback suggesting how to improve what was, in my view, a trainwreck of baby blocks stacked on top of eachother), I shelved the project.

"The Absolutely Tremendulous HPS1 Adventure of Peeb" or "My Friend Jam Suggested I Revive the Project and So I Did"

Shortly after Peeb was shelved for the first time, I joined a community of game developers called Haunted PS1. For those not in the know, HPS1 was essentially the nexus point for "retro horror games" in the indie sphere, and a lot of the resulting deluge (non-perjorative) on itch.io can find its roots in this community.

HPS1 was a good place. Lots of nice, talented people willing to tolerate the kind of mindless riffing I often do in voice calls, anyway. I made a decent chunk of friends there, some of which I'm still quite close to, even today.

HPS1 has this tradition called the HPS1 Demo Disc that began in 2020, and with the year coming to its end, there was talk of a new one set to arrive in spring 2021.

Unlike the first demodisc, however, 2021's disc required you to submit a game in-progress to a panel of judges. They'd then give their yay-or-nay, and you were either in or out.

One day, I was musing over the fact that I didn't really have anything to submit so I would likely have to sit out of 2021's disc. My friend, Jam, who you might know as the developer of the Heilwald Loophole (or Beton Brutal) suggested I consider reviving Peeb Adventures as my submission to the demo disc.

Why did I follow through on this? I don't know. It's funny to think a scenario this simple was the launch point for my career.

Over the next 6 months, I worked on turning the absolutely horrendous gag game into... Something still kinda trite but at least playable. I had some help from my longtime teammate drurylain, my longtime friend Aaron (the creator of Peeb's original design), and my longtime spiritual uncle Tim, and with our powers combined... A new kind of demo experience where you don't do anything of particular note besides swinging around was born.

Also quite important: the very same drawpile session that spawned Peeb also spawned Orbo, who would also make his own appearance in Peeb Adventures as a recurring side character (since I felt like Peeb needed a friend).

"Go! Incredible Friendship Unites in the Gameosphere! Peeb and Orbo are Born!" or "Peeb Adventures: Coming Never"

So the demo for Peeb Adventures was finished early March 2021, and the demo disc went live on itch.io on the 25th of the month.

The demo disc then proceeded to do a backflip and pick up a LOT of traction online. Which then meant Peeb itself was catching little bits of the traction in its mouth and smacking its lips.

I went from "guy who makes games for nobody" to "guy who makes games for that one very specific brand of teen on twitter who loves the object head show", and I was riding high.

Fanart poured in. People showed a lot of love. I was dazzled by it all, really.

Despite the love for the game and the potential on hand, progress was stagnant. My group of friends and I all got together in a google doc and wrote an entire planning bible for the game. Game mechanics, story beats, twists and turns, the whole thing. Despite having the structure lined up, I had other ambitions and began working on a multiplayer deathmatch game that quickly overtook my work schedule.

Peeb sat on the backburner, but at the time I still wanted to finish it one day. My main excuse was "well, I just need more money! If I'm going to work on this game it's gonna need more than one fulltime person and I can't just ask people to work for free!" That excuse worked on me for a while.

"I Don't Think I Want to Play With You Anymore Peeb!" or "There's Such a Thing as Too Much Love"

A while had passed at this point. My ambitions hadn't just grown, they'd completely shifted. Before long, I found myself working on yet another demo for the 2022 HPS1 Demo Disc, "The Spectral Mall."

Nowhere, MI wasn't just some random toy for me, but the culmination of all my love into one game. Despite its silly demeanor, the game was a product of a lot of pain, and even now I still desperately want to finish it. Except I have to make money to live, so... Oops!

Anyhow, there was a shift in demeanor for me during 2022. You have Peeb, a game that I made on a whim as kind of a joke with friends, and you have Nowhere, MI, a game that meant the world to me during really dark times.

And you know what? There were a lot of people that wanted Peeb. People that never stopped asking me about it.

I realized while working on Nowhere that I didn't really know what I would even do if I ever had the chance to work on the full Peeb Adventures. Not only did I find the nagging kind of annoying, Peeb was also something I couldn't really... Wrap my head around?

It occurred to me that Peeb wasn't really "my" game anymore, it was "his" game. The old Johnny.

I'd changed a lot since the game had come out in early 2021. In a year and a half my world got flipped upside down, and... I don't know, Nowhere was way more reflective of who I was now. Sure the humor was still pretty asinine, but there was a shift. It was hard to picture the "Peeb Adventures" people were actually looking forward to when my own sensibilities had drifted so far.

When the Nowhere demo came out along with Spectral Mall, it did... Alright? People liked it, but it wasn't the same as Peeb's release. Hell, even in Nowhere's release there were people pushing it aside to ask the same question they'd been asking every week leading up to it. "When is Peeb Adventures coming out?"

"Goodbye Peeb!"

It was increasingly harder and harder to not look back at Peeb and kind of hate it. It was rough in every respect, and yet it whenever I met people who'd heard of me online, they always cited Peeb Adventures.

Strangers continue to ask me when it's coming out. On rare occasion I'll get someone asking about Nowhere and I'll feel a bit excited anyone else cares about that game besides me and maybe my friends, but most of the time people just ask about Peeb.

To finally answer this question I've been asked for nearly 4 years: There will probably never be a Peeb Adventures.

"Goodbye Johnny."

I like to believe one of the reasons people are attracted to my body of work is because I make games to reach out to other people. That's probably not the real reason, but it's nice to play pretend and imagine your work has more significance than just "ha ha boner."

I put a lot of myself in my games and I rarely hold back, even if an idea is insanely stupid or strange. The result usually becomes something more like a scrapbook than a game.

It's hard to try and expand on a game like Peeb when the Johnny who made it isn't really with us anymore. If I worked on Peeb now, you'd get some kind of irregular frankenstein that'd never be as exciting as the original vision was.

By the time I get around to Nowhere again, am I still going to be this Johnny? Or will the next Johnny look back at Nowhere the same way I look at Peeb now? Who knows.

Anyway, look forward to more games from me and my friends. Even if it's not Peeb Adventures, it'll still be us.

[trustmypoison]

SVT helping a partner with chronic pain/fatigue

Requested? Yes!

Genre: Comfort

A/N: I received two requests, one for chronic pain and one for chronic fatigue. I feel that these kind of go hand in hand, if only because pain can lead to fatigue or vice versa, so I’ve combined these requests to avoid too much repetition between posts. 

A/N #2: I grouped members by specific aspects for this one. That’s not to say that any of them wouldn’t do any or all of the items listed (plus more), but they’re grouped by what I think they're most suited for or would do naturally, regardless of your condition.

Helps you stay active - Seungcheol, Woozi, Seungkwan, Chan

This list kind of started as the gym rat line, but I thought better of it, so hear me out. These guys strike me as ones that really enjoy being physically active, albeit in different ways. When you tell him the doctor recommends regular exercise but you just can't bring yourself to do it, his immediate response is, “I’ll do it with you, baby.” He’ll go to the gym with you and stick with you through whatever workout you’re feeling up to today, even if it’s not quite what his workout would usually look like. He’ll ask you to go to the park to play a sport casually with lots of breaks in between, if only to reframe it as something fun rather than exercise. He might even try to teach you some choreography, not with the goal of you really learning it or being good at it, but to find some stress-free, lower-impact ways to move your body. 

Helps you find ways to get quality sleep - Hoshi, Wonwoo, Vernon

You might think one of these things doesn't belong, but I have yet another ‘hear me out’ (I’m full of them!!!). Wonwoo and Vernon both seem to value sleep and having a regular routine around it. They’ll find ways to help you relax - be it a hot shower before bed, some light reading (Wonwoo’s voice reading to you, hello??), or things like heating pads or special pillows to make sleep something that is more likely to happen for you. Now, I think Hoshi needs those things just as much as you do, if only because he needs the opportunity to recharge. Those little habits make it easier to sleep and get restorative rest. 

Helps you manage symptoms - Joshua, Mingyu, Minghao

When you tell him that your doctor recommends cutting or limiting certain things from your diet, he’s totally on board and will absolutely do it with you. The processed foods stop appearing on the grocery list. The sugary dessert after dinner is replaced by a big bowl of fresh fruit. The caffeinated drinks are replaced by non-caffeinated options or different fun substitutes entirely. He’ll never deny any of those things for you if you’re really craving them, but if eliminating and trying new things might help you then he’ll have your back. He’s also got the heating pads, massages, and pain meds on lock for when a good diet just doesn’t cut it. 

Helps you manage stress - Jeonghan, Jun, DK

He sees the cycle. You get stressed with work, school, family life, whatever. On the heels of that stress is fatigue, quickly followed by pain. He’ll do all the things mentioned above when the fatigue and pain is unavoidable, but he really likes to do things that help manage the stress to begin with. The chores are done so you don't have to dread them all day for when you get home. He’s helping you stay active, if only to work off that stress before it consumes you. He’s packing your lunch so you can get a few extra minutes of sleep or just simply take your time getting ready for the day. It’s the little things that you might not even notice he does all the time, but when you remember you needed to do something and find that it’s already been done, you get a moment to sigh in relief and just rest. 

[bluberryfields]

"I want a proper apology."

The dramatic “apology dance”

In the entirety of Season 2, I think the “apology dance” scene is pretty close to my favorite.

The way Crowley walks in like he’s entering a stage in a packed theater.

The way Azi clearly sees him coming and fusses himself up to look extra focused on his work and not at all excited about Crowley’s return.

Crowley, noticing that Azi has yet to look at him, ramps up the drama by:

Whipping off his glasses (taking off his armor)

Response from Azi? Clears his throat and focuses harder on his work.

Time for Level 2 Drama, it seems.

Stalking over to the table (no sauntering here)

Tossing the glasses down (looks casual but absolutely isn’t)

Ringing that little bell (like a ceremonial gong signaling “this is fucking happening”)

Walking back into the rotunda where he has maximum visibility (also maximum vulnerability)

Azi now has no choice but to react, which he does by slowly looking up and over at Crowley, who looks like the human-shaped embodiment of dread.

Finally announcing “I’m back” like the bitchy customer who just yesterday had declared they were never shopping here again

I mean, wow. Amazing. Glorious.

Not to be outcunted, Azi just casually turns back to his work and practically hums, “Yes. I can see that.”

Damn, Aziraphale, did you take lessons in passive aggression from my mother?

Now Crowley groans in a way that I felt to my core and asks, “Do you want a big, ‘I think I said the wrong thing,’ sort of an apology, or can we take that as said?”

He averts his eyes until the last second because this probably feels more demeaning than begging Azi not to do his magic act at Warlock’s birthday part.

Still turned away, Azi replies in a tone that is a mix of hurt and guilt that makes me think this has been coming for awhile. "I'd like the apology actually." I bet you would, Angel.

Back to Crowley, he pauses to assess his options, takes a deep breath, and says the magic words: “You were right.” Also looks like he almost says something else but either doesn’t know what to say or doesn’t want to say it.

Oh wow, so convincing. Bravo.

Finally, Azi puts down his glasses and his work and turns to address Crowley. He is not happy.

“Not good enough. I want a proper apology.” Also, side note, but Michael Sheen’s voice here is just…yum.

Before Azi can finish, Crowley is so quick to reject this idea. “No.” with a shake of the head.

You're not winning this battle, Crowley, and you know it.

“With the little dance.” Azi’s voice perks up and his eyes brighten at the hope this will happen. Seize that opportunity!

Again, Crowley barely let’s the word “dance” come out before he tries to shut it down. “I don’t do the dance.” Nope, no sir, not this demon.

Oh no, now Azi’s anger joins the hurt and guilt for a vicious trifecta. “I did the ‘I was wrong’ dance in 1650, 1793, 1941…” each date being spat out with increasing amounts of venom.

Oh Crowley, you brought this on yourself, girl.

This non-apology combined with his “I'm sorry. I apologize. Whatever I said, I didn’t mean it. Work with me, I’m apologizing here. Yes? Good. Get in the car.” and I can see why Azi reacts to this the way he does.

Crowley knows he’s beaten and concedes with a “Fine!” that feels the very opposite of the word.

Okay so before the “proper apology” can begin, Azi gets up from his chair, straightens his waistcoat, and stands with his hands grasped in front of him like a proper gentleman. A properly petty gentleman.

Then the main attraction! Crowley, looking completely stone-faced, does “the little dance.”

It’s wonderful. He looks so silly and childish and graceful and mature. And god, that deep knee bend at the end? Amazing.

Also amazing is Crowley’s face when he says "Kay?” while bobbing his head and eyebrows back like a sassy rooster? *chef’s kiss*

For Azi’s part, god it is just a delicious mix of polite poker face and barely concealed thirst. I see your eyes scanning Crowley, drinking in that thin, dark Duke. That little dance will live in his head forever.

And that’s the signal to go back to normal! Crowley regains control and Azi falls back into the supporting role.

Long-term relationships are hard, yo.

[empress-simps]

A Gryffindor's Grief

Pairing: James Potter x Fem! Slytherin! Reader

CW: Reader's family and language

Genre: Angst

Masterlist

Note: My first ever marauders fic! Kinda nervous to post this ngl… I'm still thinking if I should make a second part. I want to hear what you guys think about this! Requests are open! Photos used are from Pinterest! Credits to the owner!

It was forbidden love, really.

Those little moments of not-so-accidental touches, stealing glances, and discreet smiles sent each other's way were your means of communicating with each other.

James Fleamont Potter, a Gryffindor boy that was absolutely smitten with You; Slytherin's Princess.

An odd combination that would only lead to chaos.

Being one of the sacred twenty-eight wizarding families meant that you command power and respect from everyone you meet— intentionally or unintentionally. The idea about blood purity, power, and influence was already in your mind as soon as you were able to grasp things your toddler brain could handle.

You were taught to only mingle with pure-blood families, people who could be useful and loyal to you, and those with power, influence, and wealth. Your family’s distaste for muggles and muggleborns were also ingrained into your mind, as if they programmed you to believe what they believed in. It wasn’t that hard, after all you were surrounded by rich witches and wizards who are blood supremacists.

For someone who grew up with those ideals and values, you thought it was right. Although, your belief came tumbling down the longer you spend time at Hogwarts and got to know James Potter and the rest of the Marauders.

James, he made you feel alive.

It felt as if he was the breath of fresh air that you never knew you needed. Away from that suffocating Malfoy Manor, the scrutinizing gazes of your family, and away from rich pure blood problems. Being with him felt exhilarating, he was the buzz in your life. James brought so much joy into your dark, lavish, and empty lifestyle.

It was quite funny, picturing him as your knight in shining armor, whisking you away from your pretty, gold cage.

"Malfoy!" Evan Rosier, a pure-blooded Slytherin raised his hand in your direction, motioning you to come over and sit beside him during breakfast in the great hall. Cold eyes like Lucius Malfoy's travelled in his direction, a questioning brow raised.

"Rosier, you are being too loud." She commented, walking, and sitting next to him before greeting the person beside him, Regulus Black.

"Good morning, Regulus."

"Good morning, Y/n."

Barty Crouch Jr. looked up from his meal and snickered at the both of you. "Good morning, Mum and Dad." He teased, greeting you both as Evan laughed along with the other Slytherins near them. Heck even Severus has a small smirk planted on his face. "If you wish to make your family line extinct, then please feel free to continue with your remarks, Crouch."

He smirked, putting his hands up in mock surrender "Just kidding, Y/n. Geez. Rough summer, I suppose?"

You felt your lips press into a thin line, an obvious answer to the question; It was horrendous.

Evan’s laughter slowly dies, he shakes his head, “Give her a break mate, she just got the biggest news of her life during summer. Isn’t that right Y/n-“

“Shut your mouth Rosier if you do not want to be hexed into next month.” Her empty threat really doesn’t do damage to Evan, he just shrugged, taking it as a warning that you’re not in the mood for jokes.

Your father, Abraxas Malfoy and older brother, Lucius Malfoy made a huge decision for your future. Hearing rumors here and there about their Slytherin Princess being romantically involved with a blood traitor in Gryffindor enraged your father, Abraxas. That will certainly not do, they will not sit idly and watch as the Malfoy name be... tainted with those rumors.

You remember how you felt dread entering your system, fighting the urge to run and throw up as you mustered up a façade, “Those are just baseless rumors, a plot to ruin my image in school." You held your head high, praying they do not see the truth.

Abraxas stared at you, his daughter, with a monotone expression. "Your brother and I do not care whether those ridiculous rumors are true or not." Lucius nods, agreeing. What a lie. You know your family well enough to not believe what comes out of their mouths in situations like this.

"We do not care if you had relations with the boy, even though it is rumored that he is a blood traitor, you knew well enough not to fool around with mudbloods. Well done, Y/n. Perhaps you could change his views, get him to join our cause.” Lucius looked at you. You could press your lips into a thin line, trying to find an answer.

 “That tactless boy's role is to only be a bed warmer for you, remember that Y/n." Your father stood from the chair he sat in the drawing room. Slowly walking towards you. “Although, I suppose it ends now. I heard Lady Walburga Black is looking for a potential bride to their heir, Regulus Black.”

After a week, it was official; You are to be wedded to Regulus Black, your friend, Sirius’ brother.

You could not do anything about the arrangement, what fight would you have put up? A young girl like you, who does not have any power, influence, and wealth could only suck it up and accept.

How you wish it was James you were betrothed to.

“James, you came.” You breathed out, seeing him take off the invisibility cloak. The moonlight in the astronomy tower complimented his features, he offered a small smile sitting beside you.

The stakes were high, you were sure underlings of your brother (and possibly father) in the school have their eyes trained to you as you enter another year in Hogwarts. You would need to find new ways to meet up with your lover. Regulus’ eyes discreetly looked towards James, who is undeniably looking at you.

“Wouldn’t want for my girl to be alone, you know?”

He joked, intertwining his finger with you, a second nature to the both of you. Squeezing his hand, you softly looked at him. “I missed you, pothead.” He leaned towards your face, kissing you on the forehead. One of the things he does that never fails to make you feel flustered. “I missed you too, love.” You rolled her eyes, slightly shoving him playfully, “Stop being sappy, Pothead.”

“You secretly like it, love. You can’t lie to me.” He grinned, although the last sentence made you tense up. James shot you a concerned look, noticing your body language. “Something wrong, love?” You were torn, deciding on whether you tell him about the engagement rather than keeping quiet and leaving him in the dark about your current situation.

“I got engaged.” Before you could even stop yourself, the words flew out of your mouth. Shit. It wasn’t how she planned to tell him. The light atmosphere suddenly became dark and heavy. You can feel James turn rigid, freezing up as he muttered. “So, it was true, huh?” He scoffed bitterly, hurt overtaking his features. “James…” You gently called, carefully placing a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, turning his body away from you.

She tried to ignore the hurt she felt, pushing it down as she understood why James was acting this way.  “Sirius told me.” He choked out, still not looking at you. James really does know you well, answering the question you haven’t even voiced out yet. The slight tremble in his voice made your heart crack. You bit your lip, of course Sirius found out; he was still a Black after all.

“I love you, James. I really do.”

You spoke to him, you raised your hand, about to put a hand on his back that was still facing you but deciding against it before it touched him. Your hands faltering before dropping down to your sides. He shakes his head violently, his curly locks getting messier than they already were.

“Don’t… Don’t say it like that, love.” He pleaded, slowly turning to face you again, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Don’t say it like you’re about to leave me. This. Us.” He croaked; you felt his large hands placed on top of yours. He brought it up to his lips, kissing the knuckles.

“James…” You managed to utter out, voice getting caught at the throat.

James knew he was acting like a child, but damn- he never thought it could hurt this much. He pictured both of you marrying each other, living in a large house with a big backyard because he insisted it will be great for when you have kids. Merlin, he even imagined about 3 or 4 kids looking like the perfect mix of you both, running out and about with their names already carefully thought out.

out. He daydreamed that the both of you grow old, watching you tell stories to your grandkids about their grandfather’s mischief during your years at Hogwarts.

“I have to, James.” She chokes out, tears spilling onto her cheeks. Those four little words made James’ little bubble of happiness burst with just a bat of an eye.

“Don’t… don’t do this to me, love.” He pleaded; he even went down onto his knees as he saw you standing up from your place beside him. Poor James, luckily it was only you, the moon, and the walls of the Astronomy Tower watched him become a wreck.

“I love you, please remember that you will always have my heart, James. I wish you find happiness.” The part ‘without me’ was unsaid but was heard. It took a lot of courage, strength, and self-control not to fall apart. Deep down, you wanted James to say the same to you, proclaiming his love again for the last time you’ll be together.

“I love you Y/n, so much. No one will ever make me feel the way you did. I’ll find a way; a way for us to be happy together. I swear on my life.” He promised, looking at you straight in the eye. You could only close your eyes before smiling at him, trying to blink the tears away. Stars, you hoped James really does find a way.

“Goodbye, Potter.” She turns, walking away.

Maybe Slytherins and Gryffindors really aren’t meant to be together.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Of Romance and Play Practice

@wolfstarbingo2024 - square: nerdy Remus - rating: G - no warnings - word count: 974 - based on @probs-reading's HC - AO3 link

To this day, Remus still couldn't figure out how they all were friends. They took up vastly different social circles. Like a smaller version of the Breakfast Club, he, Sirius, James, and Peter were as opposite as could be. James was the school basketball star, cheerleaders constantly hanging off his elbows (much to his boyfriend, Regulus's, disgust). Peter ran the yearbook, and was never seen without a notebook and a camera. Remus, of course, was the textbook definition of a nerd: he was the president of Chess Club, and took more AP classes than all of his friend combined. And Sirius....Sirius was perfect.

Sirius was the star of the theater program, having finally figured out how to put his dramatics to good use. He lived for the stage, and the audience ate him up no matter what his role. Of course, Remus ate him up, too. Or at least, he wanted to.

They'd all been friends since elementary school. Perhaps that was why they were able to stay close, no matter their differences. But Remus's crush on Sirius had developed quite recently, and for some reason, he couldn't shake it.

Perhaps it was the way Sirius oozed confidence. His smile was absolutely contagious and it made Remus literally weak at the knees, often times he had to sit down after Sirius grinned at him. Maybe it was the way he felt safe with Sirius. Though they loved to tease each other, Sirius never judged him when it mattered, and they'd been friends for so long, they knew each other as well as they knew themselves.

Of course, it helped that Sirius was fit as fuck.

But that wasn't it. It was...Remus couldn't help but feel warm when he looked at him. It was a bit disgusting, really.

But one night, when Sirius asked him to help run lines for the new play he was a part of, Remus agreed, because he wanted to help. He figured eventually, this crush would go away, so he should just continue spending time with Sirius like normal, acting like nothing was different. But when he read the name of the play, he froze.

"Erm...Romeo and Juliet?" he asked Sirius, who was sat on his bed, shucking his leather jacket and making himself comfortable.

"Mmm," he hummed noncommittally. "Good thing McKinnon's as flaming as I am, or I'd be dreading the kiss," he grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

And of course. Of course, Sirius needed him to practice running lines for the most romantic play in the fucking universe. What else?

"Alright," he murmured, sitting nervously on the edge of his own bed, as far from Sirius as possible. "Erm, what scene?"

"Let's start..." Sirius flipped through the script, stopping at a page and pointing. "There. I'm having trouble with the emotion, to be honest. If you could just read for McKinnon, that'd be amazing."

But Remus's stomach flipped as he looked over the script, recognizing the scene. The fucking balcony scene?

"Erm, alright," he nodded, trying to pull himself together. "How camest thou hither- er - tell me, and wherefore? Erm, the orchard walls are high and hard to climb, and the place death, considering who thou art, of any of my, erm, kinsmen find thee here," he recited disjointedly.

Sirius chuckled and responded fluidly, "With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls. For stony limits cannot hold love out." His eyes were wide, genuine, and Remus became entranced as he listened. "And what love can do, that dares love attempt. Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me."

It took Remus a second to realize he was done. That it was his turn to respond. Because hearing Sirius speak of love like this, it was doing things to him. "Oh!" he nearly yelled as Sirius gave him an expectant look, jumping a bit. "Erm. If- if they to see thee, they will murder thee. Fuck, this is intense, huh?" he commented, scanning over the script.

Sirius laughed and ignored his comment, going on, "Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than twenty of their swords. Look though but sweet, and I am proof against their enmity." He said those words with a small smile, eyes on Remus's.

"I...I would not for the world they saw thee here," Remus nearly-whispered, looking at the paper and back at Sirius, who was still watching him with a strange look in his eyes.

"I have night's clock to hide me from their eyes," he whispered, moving closer to Remus- and when had he gotten so close, they were side-by-side, now!- grabbing his hand lightly. "And, but thou love me, let them find me here. My life were better ended by their hate than death prorogued, wanting of thy love."

Remus swallowed, drowning in the look Sirius was giving him, squeezing his hand and allowing the heat and tension to wrap around their bodies. He wasn't imagining it, was he? Was Sirius feeling it, too? The way the very air was pulsating, urging him to move forward, to bring their lips together?

He hoped so.

"Sirius," he murmured, his head hazy, hardly bothering to look at the book, too distracted by the moment.

But Sirius seemed to be contemplating something. "Move not while my prayer's effect I take," he murmured, causing Remus to wrinkle his nose in confusion, before Sirius leaned forward, hand grazing over Remus's jaw and pulling their lips together.

And it was like fireworks. Hearing Sirius talk about love with the words of a poet had just made Remus's crush bloom into something more, and he couldn't resist grabbing for him, wrapping his arms around the other boy, pulling him closer until they were completely entangled in each other, their lips and teeth fighting for control of the best kiss Remus had ever had in his life.

[jeonscatalyst]

Hi,

English is not my first language and I can never construct my words the way I want to or ever really stay on topic (my thoughts wander a lot) so please ignore any weirdness in this ask😬

I just wanted to say I've been thinking a lot about what has been transpiring these past few days, and I think I've finally, truly come to understand the phrase "misery loves company."

I'm not on Twitter but I can imagine that immediately after that last episode of Are You Sure, Taekookers as well as other shippers got to the usual work of twisting things and moments just to soothe their own burn & bring Jikookers down a peg from their high.

I've noticed this thing where every time Jikook have Jikooked and Jikookers celebrate it, bask in their joy, interact happily with each other, and don't talk about other shippers or bring the negativity of "what the cult is saying", and their spaces is just so jolly, clean and healthy or whatever, no toxicity whatsover.. Taekookers and others take it upon themselves to infiltrate the space and bring their misery and bitterness and what's frustrating is that they actually 100% succeed all the time. Blogs here may not show it but I swear every time the tag as just like TWO negative asks (not asks from Jikookers genuinely doubting but the usual blatantly disrespectful & distasteful asks that minimize Jimin and Jungkook's friendship or make it seem like Jungkook would choose Taehyung or anyone else over Jimin) the mood dampens significantly.

It's an energy I can literally feel (sounds cringe, I know, but it's something I've always had) the same way just spending an hour in Taekook spaces makes it clear that they have this weird combination of being somewhat secure that their ship is real & being hidden by Jikook but also being so fearful of the thought of Jimin next to Jungkook & not trusting Jungkook to act like a loyal, faithful husband towards Taehyung where Jimin is concerned. And this does not come from their words, it's just something that's there. It's as if they are sitting in anxiety just waiting for the moment JK reaches over and kisses Jimin full on the mouth, and they are dreading (and by the way, they and other shippers see moments between Jikook as romantic or at least unusual for simple friends to do, even more than Jikookers. I've seen Jikookers say it's a bromance, they act friendly because they are friends first and foremost, while the other sides cry fanservice and make entire analyses about how Bighit would have never shown AYS or any of the past moments between those two if Jikook were a real couple👀)

JIMIN more than Taekook has infested himself in the deepest parts of their minds, like a terrible disease. They even fear him for things independent from their ship; like his greatness as an individual and artist. What makes Taekookers so unique from others is that they do not only move like toxic shippers but toxic solos as well. They bash Jimin outside of things that have to do with Taekook. His artistry, his personality, his relationship with his loved ones and others closest to him. I've never seen anything like it.

Similarly, I feel a majority of Jikookers let Taekookers get inside their heads, when there's really no reason for them to, in my opinion. Jikookers would see a moment between Jikook and take it for what it is.. until a Taekooker comes to twist it; and no matter how absolutely delusional it sounds, it'll take root inside Jikookers' heads and do its work. That's the feeling I get being here for almost two years now.

Anyway, I've been seeing the mini back and forth between Jikookers and some Yoonmin-something blogger and it's been really interesting to him. It's really like clockwork that every time Jikookers are happy about moments from their ship and not bothering anyone, there will come someone from the other side trying to poke and start something, and unfortunately, they succeed every single time.

And it's not only that blogger but I've seen several from different platforms just clearly trying to start a fight (and by "starting a fight" I don't mean having a different opinion about the boys' relationships and shipping a different pair, but deliberately undermining Jikook even as a friendship & subtly suggesting that they have poor character & are extremely ambitious) and when Jikookers rightfully respond (although I really think y'all shouldn't but we do what we want) they turn things around & make it look like Jikookers are the toxic ones and then boast "lol they are so mad, oh the cognitive dissonance, they are crying because there are people who don't believe what they believe" because they somehow think they got their lick back simply because Jimin & JK did whatever they did and those who love their bond had the audacity to hype it up and believe whatever it is that they want to believe about it.

(Also saying all those things about cognitive dissonance & making it seem like "Jokers are mad for no reason" when it's extremely clear that you wrote that post to soothe your own cognitive dissonance and bring Jikookers down to your miserably emotional level, is wild. It's a diabolical tactic)

I've noticed that other shippers literally hate Jikookers for believing in a "company sold ship" and this behavior is basically them punishing you for it. They are projecting their own toxicity onto Jikookers by saying Jikookers are toxic when all Jikookers have ever done is retaliate.

"Other shippers get along well, but it's always Jikookers the problem". I think that's something they said in their post but I'm obvious paraphrasing. That part honestly made me smirk because anyone who truly tries to quiet the bias inside their minds and looks at the different shipping subsections of the fandom, what they say & how they say it, and how they interact with one another, they'd quickly realize that Jikookers are not the problem, and they'd know exactly which shippers are the problem.

"We other shippers get along well together" - Yeah, and we know exactly WHY you get along "so well". It's not rocket science, and it's certainly not because you're all so unproblematic lol. Also it's wild AF for Yoonminers to be in solidarity with Taekookers when Taekookers have dedicated their entire existence to hating Jimin and spewing the most vile things about him just because. But he's one half of the ship they supposedly love so much?? Sure.

Like please find shame. Locate it somewhere🤦‍♀️ because wow.

I wanted to say more but I forgot what and this already so unneccesarily long, but yeah, misery really loves company.

Hi anon!

First of all, there is absolutely nothing wrong with English, hell, you phrased your words and sentences better than I would have (English isn’t my first language either) so don’t worry at all.

I could literally kiss you right now because you have said everything and more. Taekookers have been losing it all day, since they heard Jimin say he was at Jk’s place the night before their Jeju trip and I think it stings more for them because a few hours before we got the clips, they were already talking about the possibility that taekook travelled to Jeju together without Jimin and some of them were already getting ready with their mocking boots on to start asking questions like “why did he choose to travel with this person and not his “boyfriend” "but they were shut up real quick and now they are spiraling. I’ve seen even some of the more “level headed” taekook blogs on here losing their shit today and trying to cope with the information we just got by clinging to Jimin and Jungkook saying they didn’t see much of each other before and all I could do was chuckle because nothing screams more pained than that.

Like you said, Misery loves company and right now they know jokers are on cloud 9 so seeing as they can’t be on cloud 9 as well, they try to drag us down with them and I just pity the jokers who let the cult get into their heads because how much more obvious can it be that they are bothered by Jikook? As you said, it seems like a good chunk of them do really believe that taekook is real but they still can’t shake off this feeling or fear that Jk could still do stuff with Jimin and that is why you see them jubilating every time they think Jk has acted in a typical “bro” or “friend” way with Jimin but they are back to their panic the moment they see Jk behave in a “soft” or “lovers coded” way with Jimin. They are constantly in a state of panic and confusion because one moment they see something that they believe convinces them that there is no way Jikook are a couple but then they turn around and see something else that goes against that belief so no matter how hard they try, they just can’t get Jimin off their minds. He is like that thing that constantly threatens their beliefs and they hate him for him it.

If you visit the taekook tag today, you will see all of them grasping at the tinest straws trying to make themselves feel better and one thing I noticed about taekookers on tumblr which is very different from jikookers is that, taekook blogs on tumblr get some of their highest engagement when they drag or shit talk Jikook and taekookers would claim over and over and over again that they don’t care about jokers but they never get tired of talking about jokers and jikook. Don’t believe me, go search any taekook blog and see how much more engagement they get when they talk shit abt Jikook and jikookers vs when they actually talk about their own ship. The difference is astounding while in jikook spaces or just as a blog owner myself, I notice that while jokers enjoy the occasional taekooker drag, they don’t like going on and on talking about taekook or taekookers. I delete asks I get from people responding to asks from taekookers because after talking about the cult in two or 3 post, I start seeing jikookers clearly not being interested to talk about them and asking for us to move on to topics that concern Jikook. I also get some of the lowest engagements when I talk about the cult while I get my highest engagements when we talk about Jikook being cute and in love. So while jikookers don’t care to go on talking about the cult, the cult’s favourite topic is jokers and jikook.

As for yoonminers, they are a lost cause to me. I have never ever cared about the fact that they think Yoonmin is real because anyone can think whatever they want but what I cannot stand about them is the fact that they are supposedly fans of Jimin yet they have no issues holding hands with the biggest Jimin haters in the fandom. Other than this, a yoonminer to me is just like a vminer or taejiner or Jinkooker where I think the duo is adorable and beautiful together but will never take anyone who seriously thinks they are in a romantic relationship seriously.

Anyways anon, thank you so much for your ask as you really pointed out several important points when it comes to what is actually eating these people up.

[changbinsboobs]

Changbin as husband is next I'm curious for his and hyunjinss

This is the longest fucking reading I've ever had so i just HAD to split it in 2 parts so bear with me. I love him but i hate him right now😩 (no i don't)

Husband Series: Changbin pt. 1

Ugh...that guy🫠 i bet you if i let him use up my whole deck he would. The amount of "ok last card" i had to say...and yet there was still so much gushing put...and ugh, i just can't stress enough how much into details he is and how much he wants to stress on them and make sure they don't go unnoticed or get misunderstood or overlooked. Reminds me so much of my audhd friend😭. Anyways back on track - tho i don't even know where to begin from, i really think he used up half my deck. I just counted 23 cards😳 i do indeed draw a lot for the others too but thats just next level. Not on topic but i think he's a really chatty drunk😂 now i wanna read on them when drunk🙌🏻😂

Ok soooo since i have so many cards ill try to combine them as much as i can and keep the messages as concise as possible so this post doesn't become a novel - the overall energy i noticed here is not so much emphasis on him as a husband but overall him as a partner in a committed relationship. Which leads me to believe he himself doesn't view marriage with such dread as the others did (there wasn't really any dread with felix bust still a certain anxiety around responsibilities, meanwhile that with changbin is absolutely nonexistent). I would say he seems himself as capable and even ready to take on that responsibility and role if the opportunity presents itself and i think he believes he'll do a good job. He's responsible, capable and can take care of it. I actually sense a feeling of pride in him about that.

Another MAJOR theme is him being a "simp" for his partner (he insists on wife). There are many cards that im trying to sum up:

He's very protective over her and doesn't let anyone say shit about her, he's giving me guard dog vibes. Also a big bodyguardy. I can see him when being out with her eyeing people and being on alert and just idk, looking scary as to scare of any weirdos before they even think about trying something. And to clear any misunderstandings up, im really not getting this coming from jealousy (not that its not there, it is😂, but its just 10% reason, out of 100), but rather because he wants the woman he loves to feel safe and protected around him. He wants her to be able to relax and trust that he will always have her back and keep her safe. He wants her pretty little witty head not to be bothered by ANYTHING!

More from the simpy train - looks up to her a lot and kinda puts her a bit on a pedestal. This is not a very debilitating energy but feels rather like something he has made peace with and accepts - which is that she is indeed better than him and he can never be able to reach her, which means he is incredibly lucky and appreciative of the fact a woman like that has chosen him and he tries whatever he can to live up to her standard and continue to give her reasons to stay with him and continue to love him. Although she can never love him as much as he does (thats his thought🥲). But as i said this doesn't feel victimy to me at all but rather just seems realistic to him and he's a big boy and can accept reality for what it is and choose to feel lucky instead of beating himself up for not being good enough and self sabotage. Im actually really shocked looking at his energy because i can really feel the strength of his mind and ughh just how innovative and flexible he is. His will is just astounding and making me really happy, despite him obviously having some issues he doesn't let himself be defined by it and chooses to spin them to him favor. What an amazing guy💗

Back to the reading - so he spends a lot of time in his head, doing A LOT of 2 things. One is being thinking of his girl and what he can do to make her happy, analyzing previous conversations to see if he missed something or if he has remembered everything. Contemplating if she maybe gave him a hint about something, or if she maybe looked hesitant with something. Maybe her body language was off? He notes that. If there was any difference in her behaviour today, if she looked different. He's really putting LOTS of energy thinking about her and analyzing her and her behaviour. Again this doesn't seem to come from distrust (although he thinks of that as well, its just not his motivator, he just considers everything, thats why) but rather for his own feeling of safety. I think he is a very thoughtful and analyzing and sensitive person in nature so this may be something he always does, except when its something very important to him, and a relationship at that - he does it even more intensely. He doesn't only think about and analyze her tho. He does that to him too, to their relationship as well. He just wants to have a good understanding and overview of everything that is happening in the relationship so he has a sense of control and safety. You can always fix something if you know its broken. Or beginning to bend. You can fix the problem before the branch brakes i think is what he wants to say. And he wants things to run as smoothly as possible with them, and once again he has taken on the responsibility to make his girls life as easy and carefree as possible and how can that happen if he leaves the whole relationship in her hands?! He can't, so he doesn't his part very diligently and tries to keep up on the same level as her, emotional-intelligence-wise.

He also doesn't to just thinking but planing & organizing. So i think he takes lots of care for other stuff too like planing and booking fun dates. If he cant attend then books fun stuff for her. Provide her with the needed tools/means for her to be able to create, to indulge in her hobbies. He really loves that feminine creator energy and really wants to do his best to encourage and provide an encouraging environment for his wife to get in her feminine creator energy and bring him joy with it. Also thats really random but he's always ready and loves giving her massages😂💗(after her long day of crafting). He just loves hearing about it, seeing the excitement in her voice and face. It charges him.

He also spends lots of time fantasizing about her. Reminiscing wonderful dates, imagining potential future ones, creating scenarios etc. He's just A LOT in his head, his mind is really really active, and its very occupied with his love. Also another random message, commitment and love are tied with him somehow. Im seeing he cant commit if he doesn't love but he also cant love if he can't commit. So i would say he's very extreme-y. Like he's either all in or all out. No middle ground. What i mean is he HAS to be this intense in a relationship because for him thats commitment, THATS expressing love. And if he's not able to do that, then his love and interest and enthusiasm begin to fade away. He HAS to be able to be like that in a relationship and i think often he has been labeled (or was) just WAYYY TOO MUCH for the girls he has been in a relationship with. Im seeing he can get very overwhelming and overbearing if the person he's with just isn't the person to enjoy that kind of commitment and effort. But to go back to the cards, he also fantasizes about physical stuff too, for example he's riding in the car, and for the whole ride he's imagining and giggling and wiggling his feet and twirling his hairs because he plays over and over how that one time while they were still just dating she looked him in the eyes with that wet sexy look, and how his whole body got shivers and his stomach dropped and his heart skipped and his palms got sweaty and he swears some saliva started dripping out the corner of his mouth and his knees got weak and he almost felt like he was gonna black out and by the time he came back to his senses she was already sooo close to his lips and them BAM. Fireworks everywhere. He can never forget how that wonderful kiss felt and how sweet the sexual tension and anticipation before it was. He plays stuff like that OVER AND OVER again the whole damn day.

While being on physical stuff, he is pretty horny ill say. But not in a bunny way,m where he wants to fuck 5 times a day, but rather when around his girl he's always half way up, always ready to rise for the occasion iykwim. I think he gets *excited*👀 very easily and is just really weak when it comes to his girl. He's always ready to deliver whenever she ask, whatever she asks. Als im seeing once again he's a giver (and despite him loving head so much) he's focused on her pleasure and he can off just from watching her enjoy...whatever it is. So yeah thats that😂

Bro im so tired im thinking about doing this in 2 parts😭 im just halfway. Ok yk what im splitting it.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hello love 🖤

Can I request an a-z fluffy hc for our big man Tangerine?

hii luv!! ARFG OFC OFC!! thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌 ps. that pic🫠

SFW ALPHABET

tangerine x implied female reader, 1.4k words

found lots of different templates, so I combined parts as wasn't sure

A = attractive (what do they find attractive about their partner?)

physically: feel like he's the kinda guy to like eyes. he's big on eye contact, so loves to look into your pretty eyes

mentally: I think he ironically likes morally good people. ones that are honest, selfless, kind. someone who has a good heart

B = baby (do they want a family? why/why not?)

I think yes, eventually, but because of work, there never seems to be the right time. if it happens, it happens. if it doesn't, it doesn't. but I don't think he's one to plan for one

C = cuddle (how do they like to cuddle?)

im thinking the ones when he leaves for work are his favourite. where you'd be standing by the door, arms wrapped around his middle, face in the crook of his neck, holding him tight. similarly, ones when he returns home and you're just so happy to see him

D = dreams (how do they picture their future with their S/O?)

I think the whole lot - married, kids, move somewhere when kids move out or when retire, then grow old and pruney together 

E = emotions (are they open with their emotions?)

absolutely not, but he tries. he tells you he loves you and how special you are etc, but doesn't often share things bothering him or on his mind - he tends to keep that part separate

F = feelings (when did they know they’re in love?)

I think probably very early on. maybe when he realised you could keep up with him and play along with his humour. or that you could see through him right away and not be afraid of him

G = gratitude (how grateful are they in general? are they aware of what their S/O does for them?)

yes, beyond grateful!! appreciates everything you do at home to keep things running smoothly when he's away. loves your cooking, appreciates how you love and care for him. he tells you often with words, also with gifts

H = honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their S/O?)

frankly, I think he keeps lots hidden/ doesn't share the whole truth about things. definitely minimises them too - "only a scrape," and he got shot in the arm. he does it so he doesn't scare you or fill you with dread. but he definitely tries to be more open

I = injury (how would they react if you got hurt?)

if someone hurt you? immediate death. not even a logical thought in his brain (won't actually (well...) kill them, but would have a strong desire to) if you hurt yourself he's tell you to be more careful and would help patch yourself up

J = jealousy (do they get jealous? how do they deal with it)

HA HA yes. absolutely. he's gotten better at handling it tho!! bc he now knows that he takes you home at night, not some minger at a bar. he def tries to intimidate the person talking to/ hitting on you and stares them down til they take the hint and back off

K = kiss (how do they kiss you? how do they like to be kissed?)

im thinking slow and sloppy. again ones when you say goodbye (or when he returns home) ones that are filled with love

L = love (who says ‘I love you’ first?)

I think maybe you. he's loved you long before you admitted it, but he's not into getting rejected so he makes sure you feel the same way first (even though it's obvious you do)

M = memory (what’s their favorite memory together?)

when you first started dating and you surprised him at the airport to pick him up. just seeing your cute pretty face light up with love when you spot him

N = nickel (do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?)

you kidding??? baby, you're getting EVERYTHING you could ever want

O = on cloud nine (what are they like when they’re in love? is it obvious to others? how do they express their feelings?)

completely smitten!! although he tries to keep your love life private, that face he makes when he's looking at you definitely gives it away. gets heart eyes, bc I say so

P = pet names (what pet names do they use?)

the best kinds. darling, love, honey, sweetheart, but not every syllable/ letter is pronounced bc his cockney accent - so like darling, with no g. it's an english thing so he says them all the time to everyone, but he has special ones that he only says to you or ways that he says them to just you - so they’re special

Q = questions (what are the questions they’re always asking?)

"im at the shop, do you want anything?" "where do you wanna go for dinner?" but he's not really one to ask philosophical questions

R = rainy day (what do they like to do on a rainy day?)

this is sfw so can't say what I usually would. but probs just movies on the sofa. maybe shared naps on the couch, or doing your own things in the same space - you reading, him filling out stuff on his laptop

S = support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? do they believe in them?)

very very supportive. for you only, he's a great hypeman. encourages and pushes you along when you get stuck

T = talking (what do they like to talk about?)

I honestly don't think he enjoys talking that much. he's quite quiet and it can be comforting BUT.. again, he's english so complains about the shitty government all the time. idc if this is self-indulgent, but he hates the tories so he gets passionate about politics (absolutely no way that man is right wing)

U = understanding (how well do they know their partner? are they empathetic?)

he's the kind of person who listens when you don't think they are - he keeps catalogues of information about you in his brain, like your favourite childhood movie, your least favourite smell, all these simple facts about you - he remembers. he knows you better than you know yourself, so I do think he has a deep understanding of his partner. he's not necessarily empathetic all the time, but he has his moments where he is the sweetest

V = value (how important is the relationship to them? what is it worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

nothing else can or will ever compete or compare. you'd be the singularly most important thing to him, end of. he cares about his work and money ig, but when it comes down to the very core of it, none of that really matters

W = wedding (when, where, and how do they propose?)

I think both the proposal and wedding would be somewhere remote, quiet and intimate - somewhere that has meaning to you both. thinking late summer/ early autumn (he doesn't like the heat, so when it cools down)  

X = XOXO (how affectionate are they? in public/in private)

he's not one for pda but at the same time, he likes people knowing you're his - so a hand on your knee/ thigh, a hand around your waist, sitting close to you. not a fan of making out in public, but doesn't refrain from a quick kiss here and there if he really can't help himself

but in private..?? he's all over you. kisses, lingering touches on your back when he walks past, hugs you from behind when you're doing bits around the house

Y = yearning (how well do they cope when they’re separated from their S/O?)

not good. he gets all mopey when he doesn't see you for a while, but can't let that get in the way of work, so when he's back at the hotel or car or somewhere safe he sends you a text, asking how you are, what you're up to. he just hates being apart from you

Z = zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship?)

dude, he will literally kill and die for you

would rather choke than admit he is wrong - but at the root of it, he is willing to confess to mistakes if things were to ever get too far

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

[minustwofingers]

cool about it teaser

pairing: closetedfem!reader x ellie

request? yes, by @gold-dustwomxn (:

summary: life in the apocalypse is hard enough. the last thing you need is unrequited feelings for your best friend—who is very much off limits. so you'll just be cool about it. really cool about it. set in a loose interpretation of canon where i toy around with the timeline and storyline just the slightest and this is also a bit of a slowburn

warnings: ur closeted asf, queer angst, gross men, explicit language, substance use

a/n: hey guys i haven't really been posting much recently, but i wanted to at least post two scenes from this series so u guys have an idea of what to expect...also so u guys can tell me which one you want me to work on more (love is a laserquest or this one). i hope u enjoy...sorry this one is a little disjointed! (there are many events that happen between the two scenes im sharing w u as a little treat)

I. (opening scene)

The revelation that your feelings towards your best friend had become complicated arrives with the dead of winter. It’s strange, really, how something within you came to life just as the rest of the world began to die. 

If you were wiser, you’d find ways to explain it away, to rationalize all the weird thoughts in your head. You’d cite the chill in the air. The holiday spirit running through Jackson. The desolation that came with your only outdoor companions being the brown corpses of deciduous trees and infected that hadn’t frozen in the winter storms that kept battering Wyoming. 

But with age came wisdom, and both of those virtues were in short supply in a post-apocalyptic world. So, you resign yourself to cataloging away these feelings and pretending like everything was absolutely normal and cool. 

The bad thing about having good things, you think to yourself bitterly one day as you watch Ellie’s eyes light up as she rambles in her room as you sit on her bed about a comic book Joel had found her, is that they’re risky. High risk—high reward. Ellie was special to you in a way that no one else was. And using this logic, losing her would bring such an unforeseen devastation that you weren’t sure that you could go on. 

So, normal. Cool. Chill. Because you cannot afford to fuck this one up. 

“I love when you tell me about your comics,” you tell her in a way that’s definitely not sappy sweet and gooey. 

She smiles crookedly back at you. “You’re such a fucking liar. I know you couldn’t give a shit about these.” 

“Am not!” You throw a punch at her arm, feeling your heart twist as she just grins wider. “For the record, I do give a shit. Many, actually.”

“That sounds gross.” 

“Your words, not mine.” 

And it’s absolutely gut wrenching how she can just smile at you like that, like she’s not holding your heart in her fist.

“So, uh, Cat,” you blurt out. You’d been staring at her for too long. “Dina said that you two were—uh…” 

You wave your hand around in the air like you’re sifting through thousands of possible word combinations. In reality, you know exactly what you need to say to get the answer you’re searching for. You just don’t want to ask. 

“Well…” She blushes. Her eyes drop to her hands, where her fingers are toying with the bits of cuticle she hasn’t already torn off. 

“I knew it!” you croon, hoping that the boatload of dread that just dropped in your stomach isn’t as obvious as it feels. “Tell me everything.”

“Nothing to tell,” she says. “Nothing yet, at least. It’s stupid but—I just noticed that she hangs around me a lot, you know? And, like, touches me more than she needs to. Shit like that. I dunno.”

The wound deep inside you splits like the fake grin on your lips. “Wowwwww. Look at you!” 

Ellie rolls her eyes. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I mean,” she says, her eyes twinkling conspiratorially, “What about Eddie? Jesse told me that you spend a lot of time with him.”

“We’re patrol partners,” you offer. It’s not a lie. You’re just choosing to omit the part where Eddie spends half his patrol staring longingly in your direction while you pretend not to notice. 

“I know that.”

“It’s…” You gnaw on your bottom lip. “I don’t know how I feel about that right now.” 

That’s not a lie either. Eddie is…nice. All the other girls like him, except for Dina (she has Jesse) and Ellie (she has another very obvious reason). He’s attractive. At least, that’s what Bonnie tells you. Apparently the buzzed hair and heavy bluntness found in all of his features is considered hot. 

But just because you’re not into him now doesn’t mean you could never be. That’s what your mother used to say about your father—she hadn’t liked him upon their first meeting. But it changed with time, and you’d rather have someone than be all alone. 

Ellie hums, picking at the cuticle of her thumb. “He likes you.”

“So I’ve heard.” 

“Well,” she says, “I heard Jesse’s putting on another bonfire tonight. Want to walk there together after dinner?” 

You spend another evening staring across the fire at your best friend, watching the warm glow of the flames warp and distort the shape of her and Cat, pressed up against each other and smiling wide. You aren’t sure why it makes you so uncomfortable to see them together. Homophobia? No. Maybe? You recently learned that that was a thing, but you don’t consider yourself bigoted, and being a homophobe is more of an opt-in situation, right? 

But when you try to reach deep inside to find a more plausible answer, there’s nothing. 

It’s your detachment from reality that lets Eddie drape a heavy, hard arm over your shoulder. 

“Hey,” he whispers into your ear. His breath is hot and warm. 

“Hey,” you whisper back, wanting nothing more than to get away. Thankfully, Ellie is too preoccupied with Cat to even look your way. You’re sure that you’d die if she saw Eddie touching you like this. 

“You look really pretty tonight.”

“Thank you.”

It’s like someone shone a spotlight on you, hung a sign on your neck that said, I am perceived and desired by men. You don’t know why this makes your skin crawl so much. 

Eddie’s fingers are tracing patterns on the flesh of your arm. You find that you’re grateful for the extra layer your sweatshirt sleeve provides. You don’t want him to touch you—don’t want to know what it’s like for him to deliberately make contact with your skin. 

The next time he speaks to you, it’s in a murmur that you suppose is meant to sound seductive. “You’re quiet today.”

“Just a little tired.” And now you feel guilty, because Eddie really hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s you who has an issue with a boy who’s perfectly nice and clearly likes you. 

He laughs like you’d said something funny, tightening his arm so you press into his side. His body is blazing hot like a furnace, and it feels hard and foreign.

II. (scene from somewhere in the middle )

“Sorry!” You titter at the crowd of your friends who formed at the sliding glass door. “Um—sorry.” 

It seems to be the only thing you can say. 

“Cat,” Ellie says, an edge of desperation in her voice. “Cat, please, it’s not like—”

“I’m pretty fucking sure of what I saw,” snaps Cat. She turns to Eddie, a vicious glint in her eyes. “Didn’t know your girl swung that way.” 

And then she shoves past the mass of people, Ellie kicking off from the deck railing with a stream of apologies falling from her lips as she follows behind. 

Eddie walks forward, confusion the dominant emotion in his wide face.

“Uh—I didn’t—”

“I’m really drunk,” you say to him, feeling the tears begin to spill down your cheeks. “It’s not like that. I promise it’s not like that. I don’t know why I did that.”

“Hey,” he says, opening his arms. “Come here. Why are you crying?” 

“I don’t know,” you sputter, stepping into him and pressing your snotty face into his shirt. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Fuck.”

“It’s really okay.” His hand finds the flat part of your back between your shoulder blade and rubs circles. “It’s just a chick. If it were, like, I dunno, Jesse, I would’ve been angry.”

“You’re not mad?” you ask, pulling away to look up at him. Maybe there’s something tonight you didn’t ruin. 

He smiles down at you. “‘Course not. Some guys find that shit hot, you know. Two girls kissing like that.”

The smile that seemed so innocent at first sends a sharp, chilling pang through your chest. He doesn’t seem to notice your hesitation in the way your face falls as his head dips to kiss you, doesn’t seem to register the disgust you exhibit until you have to shove yourself away.

“I’m really drunk,” you repeat, looking anywhere but his face. “I want to go to bed.” 

“I can come—”

“No.”

final a/n: like i said so sorry about how disjointed this is. i just want to get a feel for what my readers are more interested in for now!!

[noyasaur]

random shifting tips for you ♡

★ . do what you want to do!

reality shifting is subjective. there is not a one-sized fits all key, and different things will work for different people. you and i's 'key to shifting' might be different, or it might be similar. and the beauty of this all, means that there is no right or wrong way to shift. that is why there are so many different methods available for you at your hands. because everyone is so vastly different to each other. which is why you should forget about all the popular shifting methods, guided meditations, subliminals, etc. work with the bare bones and simplify shifting for yourself again:

reality shifting is the practice of becoming aware of yourself in another reality.

if the only thing you need to shift is intention, create a way for you to set your intention (that's what methods do. get you into the correct space to set your intention and shift)

set your intention, and do whatever you like. all you know is that you need intention to shift, and slowly start to become aware of your desired reality.

one person over there might love counting up and down from 1 - 100 until they start to feel relaxed, which they will then start visualising themselves waking up in their desired realities and engaging their senses.

while another might just like to visualise themselves dancing in a ballroom to a song that reminds them of their dr, to which then at the end they will walk through a door and exit the ballroom, and shift, for example.

do whatever makes you feel comfortable. find your strengths and what you love doing during methods, and create a method that is suited to your liking and will help you shift.

★ . find you daydream a lot?

do you find that you absolutely LOVE daydreaming about your desired reality? well, use that to your advantage! instead of just daydream about your desired reality, combine it with the law of assumption and use it to help you shift! whenever you find yourself daydreaming about your dr, start to recognise those daydreams and accept them as memories and things you've already experienced in your desired reality!

combine this with assuming you're already a 'master shifter' and you're set! because if you were a master shifter and you've already shifted, you would be thinking back on the things you've experienced in your desired realities from time to time.

★ . distracted by thoughts of your current reality during your method?

if you find yourself distracted by thoughts if your current reality during your method (specifically, works best when you're trying to use the law of assumption/acting like you're in your desired reality) start to recognise those thoughts as thoughts of unimportance. i'm talking about things like if you're worrying about the next day or worried about that one upcoming test.

put yourself in the mindset of you as a master shifter, who's already in their desired reality.

think to yourself, "these are things that worry me in that other reality. but since i'm in this reality right now, there none of my concern and i'll worry about them when i shift back!' for example.

of course when you shift, this reality won't be completely our your mind. i expect that you would wonder about this reality from time to time.

you can even have some fun with it! for example, you start to worry about an upcoming assignment that is due or an upcoming exam. you could literally just think to yourself, "okay. i have that assignment in that reality so after spending time in this reality, i'll shift to another reality where i can study!"

just recognise that they don't have any power and replace those thoughts with desired ones!

★ . focus on your destination; not the process.

a friendly reminder to not put so much emphasis on the 'how' of shifting. try to focus solely on your destination. use your feelings/emotions, think of things you're excited to experience, you're dreaded to experience, how you feel about certain people, who you're excited to meet!

focus on your desired reality and the feeling of knowing that you will shift.

rather than trying to find out what method works the best or on all the steps you need to be doing next in your method.

shifting is just a small part of it; you're actually going to be experience a whole other reality and you're already there right now as we speak. focus on that instead.

[cipheramnesia]

The "movie about a movie that kills you" is a surprisingly robust genre of horror. There's a wide range of approaches, but one key factor is the question of how good the deadly film in a film is, on its own. Some approaches are keeping the faux film entirely unseen, use brief clips, or make it real short.

Antrum: The Deadliest Film Ever Made goes in for a high risk approach and delivers a complete finished film, ostensibly made in the 70s and never released, framed by brief opening and closing info bites to set the stage of it.

Somehow this thing was completely off my radar, which means I was taken fully off guard as an ominous warning about the content in white text on black appeared on screen, giving a thirty second count down to leave if I wanted.

Wonderful showmanship and canny filmmaking that got me right in the mood to enjoy what followed. While I wouldn't call it a scary movie, I found it almost delightful in the atmospheric dread and devotion to its aesthetic of low budget 70s films. Nothing in it feels like a curse on its own, but it does feel like the sort of movie that could easily prompt psychological distress for anyone under psychotropic influences, pre-existing emotional vulnerability, or prone to delusional states. Not through anything supernatural, more because it works hard to keep the viewer in constant doubt over what is and is not real for the characters in the film. Combined with the framing device of it being a movie somehow able to influence the real world of the viewer, and the use of fractionally visible flashes of occult symbols on the screen, it generates an intense feeling of unreality which for me was an almost drug-like high and an immersive pleasure.

The premise of Antrum is simply a brother and sister decide to dig a hole to hell, and the movie plays out around this event by surrounding it with disturbing sounds and imagery, as well as real world dangers that weave the protagonists between the supernatural and mundane while keeping them in a state of terror and madness that grows until it becomes unrelenting.

In a certain sense it also feels cursed, like the kind of film where there are elements that feel very transgressive - in particular the opening scene which to my mind evoked Un Chien Andalou - not the infamous eyeball slicing scene, but the use of rotting animals. The few and very basic visual effects remind me as well of the early Survival Research Laboratory devices engineered by Mark Pauline.

However, the core question for me is also always what is the movie about besides the plot. If I had to identify some rough themes, I would say it's trying to explore the idea of understanding death and violence through the eyes of children who do not yet have the psychological tools for processing such matters, but who have been left on their own to do so regardless.

Many of the unusual elements in the movie can relate to death rituals poorly understood, starting from the very premise of digging a hole into the earth. And the same act is surrounded by strange rituals unclear in their origin, ideas which might be logical drawn from watching words recited over a grave without having a connection of purpose. Their encounters with other people are fully without possibility of communication as none of them speak the same language, and these mundane threats feel at times akin to a satanic Alice in Wonderland, rituals and violence whose meaning cannot be understood by the protagonists.

Likewise the supernatural is full of unprocessed images of death. Demons with black skin who look like mummified corpses. River crossings and empty chains dragging through leaves. It's as if death itself has manifested through the ambient world, surrounding the two children and refusing to let them leave its circle.

In combination with the intriguing use of sigils inscribed throughout, it creates a movie that is for me a joy to watch. An absolutely perfect Halloween spook for next year, but your mileage may vary between finding it full of pretentious nonsense or maybe the scariest film you'll ever watch. It can really come off either way, and I'm honestly not quite sure why my reaction was actual joy in the watching. Not to undercut the severity of the subject matter, but I just can't stop thinking about how happy I was to watch the movie at work mechanically, to enjoy the well oiled pieces fitting together, and then all topped off with the delicious extra treat of the framing device. Surely worth 90 minutes of your life.

[gffa]

Do you have any Sith!Obi-Wan fics you can recommend? 🙏

Hi! You can do a search for Sith Obi-Wan in my bookmarks which brings up several or you can start with the novel-length ones that still live rent-free in my head even years after I've read them: Equinox by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 95.9k During the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan and Anakin crash on a remote planet and take shelter in the ruins of a grand estate only to find they are not alone. This fic was written for me, so I'm biased, but it's genuinely my favorite for the trope because Lily put all this thought into the undercurrents going on between the characters, because it gives such care about why any version of Obi-Wan would fall to the dark and what he would be like, because each chapter had moments of foreshadowing and care given to lush, beautiful descriptions and the creeping dread of the place. It's a gorgeous fic and I think even if someone doesn't usually like Sith versions of the characters, the way this one does it (created reflections, not that our characters are falling, so it's scratching the itch of how it's an extension of our characters, but our characters are not on that exact path), I would gently suggest this one.

Lex Talionis by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 187.1k Or, how Obi-Wan and Anakin fell to the dark side, obtained their revenge, and saved the galaxy in the process. My other favorite Sith Obi-Wan fic, this one is about how these characters fall to the dark, and the author takes his time with how it happens step by step, but also how these massive, galaxy-spanning changes happen, how it's a combination of how sexy the dark side can be but also how awful it can be, how much pain and hurt it can cause. There's so much care and effort put into this story, it spans such a huge story, that it's one of those fics I want to physically print out in special binding because it deserves to be a pretty set on my bookshelf.

wicked thing by imaginarykat, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 124.2k the story of how Anakin exists in a perpetual state of intense embarrassment, Kenobi is enjoying it a little too much, and everything is, generally speaking, a gigantic mess. This is an AU where Obi-Wan never trained Anakin and is already a Sith when we meet him, and there's a reason it's one of the most famous fics in the fandom, because it is the most charismatic thing I've just about ever read, the sheer amount of dark side sexy charm coming off Obi-Wan is incredible, the tension between him and Anakin is delicious, and the writing/plotting of the storyline is superb. I could not put this fic down when I read it, there's a reason this fic helped really popularize the trope, because it's just so goddamned addicting and glorious to read.

Soldier, Poet, King by Glare, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, time travel, 106.4k wip Second chances are very rarely given, but the Force smiles upon two of its favorite children and returns them to a time before their actions have met their consequences. Anakin Skywalker, also known as Darth Vader, seeks redemption while Obi-Wan “Ben” Kenobi, disillusioned with the Jedi Order and its Code, falls to the Darkness. Trapped out of time, Master and Apprentice must once again work together to stop Sideous’ plans from reaching fruition and bring Balance to the Force—all the while dodging the Jedi, the Sith, and their feelings for each other. I think this might even have been the first Sith!Obi-Wan fic that I read and I know it remains dear to me because I reread it a year or two ago and got sucked in just as hard as before. Obi-Wan is dropped back into his younger body, feels like the whole thing is a bunch of bullshit, gets sucked into dark thoughts, and just goes full dark side dom on Anakin and fixing the galaxy through machinations and foreknowledge. It's so fun and it does such great service to Anakin's level of power, that this guy is an absolute dragon in the Force, but that he also very much wants Obi-Wan's hand on the back of his neck to force him to kneel to the one person he loves. Hnngggg, it really cemented me as a fan of this trope because of how well it scratches the sexy dark side dom/sub while they're both badass dynamic, I love it so much.

I'm still making my way through a lot of Star Wars fic, so if anyone has any more recs, feel free to jump in, especially if you have some gen ones, since I mostly read pairing fic for Sith!Obi-Wan (because I'm personally after the sexy dom/sub dynamic with it)!