#what's it like being a genius you ask? well I would say it isn't easy except it absolutely is incredibly easy XD

[giantkillerjack]

Junji Ito makeup test #1

OR

Figuring out what I need in order to create a music video parody of the song "Gloria" by Laura Branigan, but make it about Tomie. I will be playing the part of a 1980s pop disco singer in the style of Junji Ito. This is high art in progress, people! 😘😂😅

photos of first test:

additional digital notes made using Clip Studio:

main takeaways:

So first off, where the fuck did my stage makeup go??? I had no idea it was missing until today!! I ended up using the makeup from when I used to perform as a mime. (Not a joke, but in a larger, cosmic sense, kind of a joke. 😆 I'll probably do it again sometime. I was adorable as a little soft butch gay mime!)

I now remember why I stopped using the dry cake face paint and switched to wet paint in a tube BUT I CANNOT FIND THE TUBESSS

I'm out of eyeliner in general, but for this, I need some kind of extra thin/fine eyeliner and preferably more than a thimble-full of paint for it.

Maybe I can thin out some matte black face paint and also get like a really nice fine brush? I guess it depends on if the paint is water-soluble.

I should probably check to see if I already have these materials, which would be SO MUCH EASIER IF I COULD FIND MY FUCKING STAGE MAKEUP--

Either way the lines need to be super thin, straight, clean, and parallel to each other. Or I could look at the rougher cross-hatching Ito sometimes uses, but I suspect tidier lines will look best with makeup.

Luckily, I already have an entire burlesque/drag act where I make myself look like a character from a black and white film. Between that and the mime thing, I theoretically have all the white gloves I will ever need lol. I guess I'm going to need white leggings, since the light gray ones won't work for this. Junji Ito is not generally greyscale as much as literally black and white.

Do I own makeup primer? I feel like yes. It definitely sounds like a good idea.

I KNOW FOR A FACT I DIDN'T THROW OUT MY STAGE MAKEUP because I had quality skin-safe glitter in basically every color, and only a FOOL would throw that out!!!!

Gloria is a song from 1983 with disco balls in the music video. Do I want to incorporate more style choices from 1983? Should I buy a wig? Something with shoulder pads maybe?? I guess that means I can keep the thick eyebrows...

Actually upon further research, I do need a sequinned shirt for this. Possibly a sequin leotard with a shiny belt. And leg warmers. OH! And a jacket with just the biggest shoulder pads I can find! Or at least the closest thing I can find to this outfit in one trip to a thrift store

Every 1980s music videos seems to have a person with their hair and clothing flowing in the wind. Now, I could buy a fan. But much funnier and cheaper would be a shot of my hair blowing in the wind that then pans to a friend furiously fanning me with a piece of cardboard or something. (Which means I'd need either two people helping with this shot, or I just have to accept that the shot's going to look kind of blurry by doing the zoom-out in post. Oh gods, I would have to write a proper shot list ahhhhhh--)

Honestly, blurry footage seems fine in some parts. I'm probably going to add some dreamy soft filters anyway to make it look like pre-digital 35mm film from an 80s vid.

I'm going to need some fake blood to splatter at me in the middle of the video. Obviously. So I guess that bit will need to be filmed outside.

The good news is the fact that the nearest easiest filming location for me is a alley full of dumpsters is actually really appropriate for this video. XD

Should I do the distressed eyebrows that a lot of Junji Ito characters have? Note to try that in the next test along with a The Crow-like smile. (My go-to high school Halloween costume. Damn, I have been painting my already pasty-pale face even whiter for a while now! 😅)

Other progress made on this project today:

I recorded myself singing a voice memo along to the rhythm of the karaoke version of Gloria that's on YouTube, but in it, I'm singing in the key that is appropriate to my voice. (A couple half-steps down, I think.)

Next step will be to load that clip onto my computer and adjust the karaoke version to match its pitch. And then like, practice the song with my new personalized backing track.

If i actually finish this, I'll have to re-record the backup vocals to say the right name.

Also the next step will be to see if my interest in this lasts long enough to at least get me to find my frickin' stage makeup.

Additional notes:

The original music video for Holding Out for a Hero is exactly the right energy for this, and now I absolutely need shots of me in front of (badly green-screened) flames, on my knees while singing passionately and directly at the camera and presumably wearing kneepads tbh

Omg what if I included a little "photoshoot" sequence and really fucked with the photos to make them all blurry-body-horror nasty as they flash by real quick?? Get like, a glitch effect in the mix hell yeah 😎😎😎

Edit: Omg i just remembered I have these short-shorts with a reanimator quote on the ass! ("Blasphemy? Before what god?") i know what shorts to wear for this now!!

Oh! Another idea! What if the video starts with me reading Tomie and then closing the book and picking up the nearest microphone-shaped thing and using that to start singing - and every 30 seconds or so of footage, it quietly changes to a different item (one of which is absolute the black wand vibrator that I have XD)

Note: I can easily shorten the song if I only have funny shots planned for like 2/3 of the song length. No need to get too repetitive.

[mochinomnoms]

hrng… trey birthday fic…

I’m not gonna lie, for awhile, I didn’t really like trey. i didn’t dislike him, mind you, but he was just kind of there. but all of a sudden, my brain was just thinkin about trey. like i’m just chillin at home, and i’m just thinking about trey. he’s just so…

and then you posted the birthday fic and godDAMN

Mochi, you are a genius. I am a buff trey truther. mans would have hella arm muscle and I will not accept any less. sorry i just keep thinking about trey now. he would have the biggest breeding kink its not even funny

anyhow, if you have more trey I would LOVE to read it especially if it’s about him being a pervert

i’m so normal i promise

as always, have a wonderful day ^^

-🦷

AAAAAA TY!!! I'm so glad that you're seeing the appeal for Trey he really is an underrated character!! I got that eldest daughter syndrome and Trey as a character feeds into that ngl.

I also had a crush on Peeta from The Hunger Games when I was a kid and I was remembering a bit where it was pointed out that as a baker, Peeta was actually hella strong (he could toss 100 lbs flour bags over his shoulder), so it would only make sense to me that Trey would be similar.

I image he would have a bit more of a sleeper build, so it's not obvious how strong he is until he's actually doing something physical (like fucking me—). None of the sprites do him justice in that regard, but this very specific panel from the manga does do things to me:

aaaaaaaaa big strong arms to hold you in~

Trey is also kinda silly in the fact that he canonically is really bad at flirting, or at the every least being suave/romantic. Poor ghost bride, getting her eyes compared to grapes...

He did say that it was cause he was put on the spot, which is partially true. I like to think that he's the type to just say something flirty or romantic without meaning to.

Think of an old married couple where one of them will casually drop a compliment like it's the most natural thing in the world. That's how Trey is, and he doesn't even realize it! It's very sweet, and it's very easy to fall for of course!

I, of course, have other thots as well tehehe~

He absolutely has the biggest breeding kink (no this isn't just copy and pasting my own kinks into my favs, wat you talking about?). He grew up with a happy family, and had a bit of a taste of what parenthood is like while taking care of his siblings.

He wants to replicate that for his own family, no doubt, but it's not exactly those reasons that he's so into breeding you. No, it's the, forgive him for the silly comparison, look of your hole absolutely stuffed like a éclair (which I've seen several people on here ask of him YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE).

The sight of you swollen, twitchy, and full hole is sooooosososososoooooo yummy, and he has the excuse that he has to make sure his seed will take to keep filling you! It's not until after when your belly is swelling with a baby that his pregnancy kink kicks in...but perhaps that's another discussion for another time.

My last thoughts for just this moment are that Trey maaaay have a slight bit of an oral fixation. He likes seeing your mouth on his dick, he likes to open your lips with his cum still resting on your tongue and running his fingers over your teeth, and he reeaaally likes to have you bite down on his neck and admire the teeth marks. Not enough to bleed, mind you, but enough that he could take a picture and then compare the marks to your actual teeth later on in fascination. It's only a little weird, indulge him won't you?

[libraryofgage]

Addams Family Steddie AU Part 3

Part One | Part Two

To preface, a bitch is sick rn so if you see any typos, no you didn't lol

"Robin, this is serious."

Steve can perfectly see Robin rolling her eyes through the phone as she says, "Oh, right, I'm so sorry your fiance-to-be is the perfect boyfriend who takes you on wonderful dates and romances you every single second you're together."

"I'm starting to think you're jealous."

"I'd only be jealous if Eddie had tits."

"He'd probably get some if I asked."

In the silence that follows, Steve can imagine Robin's scrunched face: her crinkled nose and curled lips and generally disgusted eyebrow furrow. He counts down from six in his head and then mouths along as Robin says, "I'd hang up if I weren't so invested in your love life."

"For someone so invested, you're not helping."

He hears a put-upon sigh through the speaker and returns it with a sigh of his own. Steve gives up on sitting properly and collapses back onto his bed, staring at the unmoving ceiling fan Hulyet is currently hanging from to nap.

"Fine, fine, what's the actual problem again?" Robin asks, her question followed by the sound of her shutting a book (one of her science textbooks based on the sound it makes when closing) so she can give Steve her full attention.

"Eddie is always planning our dates, and they're always really good, right? So I want to plan a date in return, but I have no clue how to plan something we'll both equally enjoy. In fact, I have no clue how Eddie plans our dates in the first place."

"Just start with something he likes and try to find something you'll like in it."

"Okay, say it again, but pretend I'm five."

Robin sighs again, and Steve hears the creaking of her bed as she collapses onto it. "Okay, the last date he planned, it was a hockey game, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, you like sports. Hockey is an obvious jump from there, but was Eddie also having fun at the game?"

Steve hums, reviewing their date from the week before. He hadn't expected Eddie to pull out hockey tickets, but he'd looked forward to it nonetheless. The game itself was fun, and the rink was cold enough that Steve had been able to scoot closer to Eddie and complain about being chilly.

Of course, Eddie's immediate response was to pull out a lighter, open it, and flick a flame to life while asking, "How big of a fire do you want, Stevie?"

For a brief moment, Steve had considered the question. But then he'd realized a fire would disrupt the hockey game, so they probably shouldn't start one.

After grabbing the lighter and stuffing it into his own pocket, Steve leaned closer and whispered, "Wouldn't you rather put your arm around me?" Eddie had lit up, and his smile was wide enough to make Steve feel blinded as he wrapped an arm around Steve's waist and pulled him closer.

It had been wonderful and romantic, right up until both of them got way too into the game and completely forgot about cuddling in favor of shouting at the players to hit harder and actually draw some blood to get the puck.

Steve smiles a little at the memory. "Yeah, he enjoyed the violence."

"Well, we all enjoy seeing buff people get a little bloody," Robin says, and Steve can see the way she's nodding like a wise man. "Anyway, he probably knew he'd enjoy the whole violence part of the sport. So, follow that formula."

"What formula are you seeing here?"

"Thing fiance-to-be likes plus a small part of it you could probably enjoy equals romance. If that's too hard, just get him a gift and plan the date around that."

Well, it sounds easy when she says it like that. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because I'm the genius here, obviously. Now go plan a date so you can tell me all about it later. And I expect details, Steven. Sordid details. If I'm not quivering in my bodice, what's the fucking point."

"You don't even have a bodice. And my name isn't Steven."

"I'll get one, and your name is whatever's comedically appropriate."

"I found a good website for bodices and corsets, actually. I can send it to you."

"What are you doing on that website, Steve?" Robin asks, her voice light and eager.

Steve smirks, pulling the phone away from his ear and saying, "Wouldn't you like to know," before quickly hanging up. The phone stays silent for three whole seconds before Robin immediately calls back, but Steve is too busy laughing to actually pick up.

Part of why the Munsons moved to Steve's neighborhood is the cemetery within walking distance. The cemetery is at the very back of the neighborhood, hidden from people who don't actually live there. The front of the cemetery is perfectly presentable. The gravestones are clean and new, and flowers decorate most graves while others hold pebbles and stones of various sizes and colors.

The back of the cemetery, however, is a Munson paradise. The grass gives way to brown, under-watered weeds and dirt, the faded gravestones are covered in moss and plants climbing them, and the trees are perpetually leafless and spindly to create the perfect horror movie atmosphere. It was like that even before the Munsons moved to the neighborhood, but Steve doesn't actually know why.

The back of the cemetery is where Steve leads Eddie, occasionally looking back to make sure the blindfold covering Eddie's eyes is still in place. "You know, I was expecting more than walking when you pulled out the blindfold," Eddie says, squeezing Steve's hand.

"We're almost there," Steve promises, looking around them until he spots the picnic blanket and pillows he'd laid down earlier in front of a blank gravestone. There's a small projector on the edge of the blanket, facing the wall of a mausoleum, with a DVD player connected to it.

Steve stops at the edge of the blanket, takes a deep breath, and moves to stand in front of Eddie. "Okay," he says, reaching up and carefully pulling off the blindfold.

When it comes off, Eddie looks straight at Steve, not sparing a glance at the set-up behind him. "Are you the surprise?" he asks, sliding his hands around Steve's hips and pulling him closer.

"I'm not much of a surprise," Steve points out.

"You're the best gift I could ask for," Eddie says, sealing the words with a kiss that would be too easy for Steve to get lost in.

And he almost does, but he pulls away before Eddie's tongue can get too far into his mouth. "No, wait, you haven't seen the actual surprise," he mumbles, putting a few inches between them and gesturing to the picnic blanket.

Eddie's eyes light up, and he pulls Steve to the blanket. He sits against the headstone and tugs Steve down next to him. "Movie date in a graveyard? Very romantic, sweetheart," Eddie says, leaning close and kissing Steve's jaw.

"Well, that's not the whole surprise," Steve replies, leaning his head on Eddie's shoulder. He hears a quiet hum from above him and adds, "This is our spot."

"What? Like a make-out spot? We gonna sneak out in the middle of the night to make out right here twice a week?"

"Only twice?" Steve asks, his voice teasing as he tilts his head back to see Eddie smile. He doesn't give Eddie the chance to answer, though. Instead, he takes Eddie's hand and plays with his engaged-to-be-engaged ring. "I mean, this is our spot. We're leaning on our gravestone."

A few seconds pass before Eddie seems to actually process the words. When he does, he straightens up, tugging Steve away from the gravestone with him so he can see it. "Is this...a couple's plot?" he asks, his eyes wide as he looks from the stone to Steve.

Steve flushes, heat rising in his cheeks as he looks away. He takes a deep breath, deciding to just verbalize his thought process when he'd bought the plot. "I figured, well, we wouldn't want to be apart even in death. So we'll be buried together, you know? Our corpses will be embracing as we rot for eternity, becoming skeletons and dust that will only know each other."

The words are followed by silence, making Steve wonder if he somehow fucked up with his gift. He braces himself and glances up at Eddie to ask if he doesn't like it only to be pushed back on the blanket. Steve blinks, his brain barely catching up as Eddie kisses him. This is, by far, the most desperate kiss Steve has ever received from Eddie. It's a kiss that's practically begging Steve to give Eddie permission to swallow him whole, tuck him securely into the marrow of his bones, and hold him there so they'll never be apart.

Steve is a little confused, but he's far more interested in kissing back, sliding his fingers into Eddie's hair and tugging playfully as he bites Eddie's tongue. A rough growl in response sends shivers down Steve's spine, goosebumps spreading across his arms as Eddie pushes his hands under Steve's shirt.

Surprisingly warm fingers trail across Steve's abdomen before Eddie's hands settle on his hips, his pinkies teasingly pushing past the waistband of his jeans. Steve sighs softly, relaxing at the familiar sensation as he hooks one of his legs over Eddie's waist, pulling him close until their hips and chests are flush against each other.

Eddie grins against Steve's lips, his left hand trailing down Steve's waist to rest on his thigh, holding it in place as he teasingly grinds their hips together. Steve jolts, a surprised, quiet moan escaping him as his hands start to tremble with adrenaline and...well, sheer horniness if he's being honest.

"Please tell me we can fuck on our future grave," Eddie says, his voice low and husky as he speaks against Steve's lips.

Steve groans, fully agreeable to the idea only to realize two very important things. One, he doesn't have any lube, and two, he was actually looking forward to watching movies with Eddie, which wouldn't really happen if they got too distracted. Plus, you know, the whole sex in public thing, but that's not as big of a deal. Who's going to be visiting the cemetery on a Wednesday?

But Steve doesn't want to completely dash Eddie's hopes and the sheer joy in his eyes at the idea, so he presses another kiss to his lips and promises, "Later, Eddie."

Despite his disappointed expression, Eddie doesn't argue. He just sits up, pulling Steve with him so he stays in his lap. "I'll hold you to that, sweetheart," he whispers, kissing down Steve's neck until he reaches the point where it meets his shoulder. He bites down there, causing Steve to inhale sharply as he licks and sucks a hickey onto his skin.

Steve shakily exhales, biting his bottom lip to keep himself grounded. When it feels like Eddie is about to start on another hickey, Steve uses his grip on his hair to pull him back. "Stevie," Eddie breathes, his eyes dark as he looks up at him, "you know what pulling does to me."

Steve snorts, kisses his cheek, and climbs off his lap. "Keep it in your pants for now, babe. I actually want to get to the other part of this date," he says, moving over to the projector.

"And what's that?" Eddie asks.

"Classic monster movies," Steve says, grinning at the excited gasp that comes from Eddie as he turns on the projector. Once it boots up, the mausoleum wall shows the opening menu for a Monster Movie Collection DVD. Steve puts on Frankenstein, making sure the movie actually starts and the opening credits begin rolling before climbing back into Eddie's lap.

"I love you so fucking much," Eddie says, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist and hugging him close as he rests his chin on Steve's shoulder.

Steve grins, leaning back against him and idly playing with one of the rings on Eddie's fingers. "I love you, too. Now shut up and watch the movie. No more making out until at least this one is over."

"Yes, sir."

Steve can't help a soft laugh. He takes Eddie's hand, raises it to his lips, and playfully bites his palm before lacing their fingers together and focusing on the movie.

Tag List: @estrellami-1, @justforthedead89, @starman-jpg, @abstractnaturaldisaster, @sugartin, @ashwagandalf, @xjessicafaithx, If anyone else wants to be tagged in potential future parts, just let me know!

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Victory Tastes Damn Good - Carlos Sainz

<word count - 3384>

warnings - smut, under 18s dni

"Come on Carlos, come on," you muttered, feeling sick with nerves that you thought you might throw up. It was the final lap of the Singapore Grand Prix, and Lando was doing a great job as he backed up the final of the two Mercedes.

You couldn't help but close your eyes as they hurtled down the homestraight, unable to watch just in case it went wrong. But, the angels were looking down on you and granted your wishes, as you heard through your headphones, "Carlos Sainz has won the Singapore Grand Prix!" 

The team were screaming and jumping for joy, and you couldn't help it as tears escaped your eyes and down onto your cheeks. Even more tears flowed as you sang along with Carlos and his engineer, in celebration of the smoothest of operations. 

You rushed out to parc ferme, but couldn't get anywhere near the front due to the masses of Ferrari personel that were out there. You didn't even care though, as you got to watch Carlos get out of the car, finally victorious. He had been close in Monza, but that didn't matter. 

You may not have been able to see his face, but the pure joy that radiated from him could be felt from the distance you were at. While everyone was occupied at parc ferme, you headed straight to the podium.

Seeing him stood up there was magic. There was no easy way to describe how you felt, but it was like drowning in a sea of golden delight, and you didn't know whether to open your eyes or let it take you away.

It was like you were in a dream, and a part of you was terrified that you were going to wake up. You just couldn't tear your eyes away from him. You thought he was going to fizzle away, and the Spanish anthem would turn Dutch, and Carlos would turn blonde. 

But, it didn't happen. The anthem finished, and the Scuderia finally got to hear the grace of the Italian anthem. Carlos simply couldn't wipe the grin off his face, and you didn't want him to. It was the embodiment of everything he had worked so hard to achieve, and his brilliantly clever and down right genius racing had brought him to where he deserved to be.

At the top.

Watching him hoist his trophy high wa bliss, and it was like a King in front of his people as the whole of the Tifosi beneath him cheered and screamed. As the champagne flowed, Carlos and Lando showed everyone just how precious Carlando was, and you adored the friendship they had. 

Just as you had managed to stop crying, you finally got to see Carlos properly, and he had finally found you. He was looking for you, but was too caught up in the moment to properly search. You didn't know what to say as you looked at him.

He was stood right in front of you, and you couldn't muster a single world. "I just-" you fumbled, putting both of your hands on his face and squishing his cheeks lightly, trying to check if he was actually real. 

"You just fucking won, Carlos!" you squealed, violently shaking him by his shoulders, before yanking him into your arms. "Did I? Huh, I was wondering where the trophy and champagne came from," he deeply chuckled in your ear. 

"I think someone slipped something in my drink this isn't normal," you laughed, ruffling his hair slightly. "It's called being extremely fucking happy, baby, I feel it too," he said, kissing you as he picked you up and twirled you around. 

"We are getting so fucked up tonight," you beamed, itching to get celebrating as wildly and extravagantly as you wanted. "Well, you might be," he cheekily smirked, winking at you. 

"Wasn't what I was talking about, but since you've done so spectacularly, I'll consider it," you smirked, spotting the mischievous glint in his eyes. "I doubt you'll be having to do much considering," he whispered in your ear, backing you up and pinning you against the wall of the motorhome with his body. 

"I think I deserve it, don't you?" he lowly asked, his breath tickling your ear. 

"Oh you do, but you'll have to wait," you mused, knowing that you had absolutely no control in this moment, but you knew he liked it when you thought you had the upper hand. "Winners don't wait, baby," he coyly grinned, leaning impossibly closer to you and peppering a few light kisses down your neck.

"This one is going to have to, this isn't the right place," you said, gently pushing him away with a tap on the shoulder. "And why is that?" He asked, gazing down at you as he still pressed you against the wall. "You know why,"

"Maybe I do, but I want to hear you say it," he leered, knowing the exact reason why you didn't want to do anything with him right here, right now. "Because I'd have to be quiet," you muttered. "And why would that be such a challenge, my love?" he teased, tucking a lock of loose hair behind your ear.

"I don't think I'll be able to refrain from telling you just how brilliant you are. At racing, and other things," you giggled, snaking your arms around his neck. Judging by his reaction, you knew you had told him exactly what he wanted to hear. 

"Well, I guess that would be an added bonus to finding somewhere away from here," he winked, stepping away from you when footfalls approached you. "Carlos, race debrief in five," Charles said, practically stomping past.

"Alright, thanks," he nodded, waiting for Charles to round the corner at the end of the corridor. As soon as he was out of sight, Carlos lunged forward and captured your lips with his. His hands found their place on your waist, one of them slowly trailing down your body.

"Hey, patience," you said, tugging his hand away by his wrist. 

"Sorry, I just can't keep my hands off you," he said, forcing himself to walk away, because if he got his hands on you again, he wouldn't be able to get them off. As he backed away, he shot a wink towards you with a smug grin, "I'll see you later, baby,"

"I'll see you later, Carlos," you smiled, leaning back against the wall and giving yourself a minute to catch your breath. Carlos made you feel like a rowdy teenager all over again, and he never failed to surprise you with his antics. 

You were in for one hell of a night. You thought back to when he won in Silverstone last year and what happened after that, and there was no doubt in your mind that tonight was not going to be any different. 

You didn't really know where to go to wait for Carlos, so you just sat on the couch of the motor home, posted pictures of him on every social media platform known to man and tried to wipe the huge, goofy smile off your face.

There was pride still bubbling in your chest, and it was a tingle that you never wanted to shake off. You checked the time, seeing that they had been in the team debrief for about fifty minutes. It had been a while, and you wanted to stretch your legs.

The general public had gone, leaving the track staff and team workers in at the track. It left you to wander around the paddock freely, without reporters fishing for a quick headline, or people constantly surrounding you as you shuffled through, shoulder to shoulder.

You could walk past the motorhomes, as the lights lit up the path, the air feeling warm on your skin. You smiled at the few people that walked by, none of them stopping you on your travels around the paddock. 

Most of the teams and people were in their motorhomes, still going through their debriefs. After some time, you saw a stream of papaya walking out of the doors, and you figured there would soon be a river of scarlet to follow. 

"Hey Lando, great job out there, you smashed it," you smiled as the curly haired boy passed by, a huge grin plastered on his face. "Thanks, it was a great race," he nodded, "Hey, you free tonight? You look great," he smirked. 

"Don't let Carlos hear you ask that," you laughed, used to Lando constantly flirting with you. He had done it ever since you had met him, and Carlos knew it. "He's fine with it, he knows a pretty lady like you gets plenty of attention," he charmed.

"Are we talking about the same Carlos?" you raised an eyebrow at him, knowing how possessive Carlos could be at times. He liked to have you all to himself, and you wouldn't have it any other way.  "Why only have first place when you can have second too?" he continued, leaning against the wall behind him. "It's happened before, it can happen again," he said.

"OK Lando, I'm going to go and see if Carlos is ready now," you side-eyed him, brushing off his comment as a joke and hoping it was nothing more. 

Lando just chuckled at you, waving you away as you walked. More teams were filtering out of their motorhomes for the night as you strolled down the path, no sign of anything red. Just as you reached the outside of the Ferrari motorhome, a hand was held over your mouth as another hand positioned itself on your stomach, tugging you back.

You went to scream, but the hand muffled the sounds. You tried to kick away, hoping to catch the attention of a passerby. "Baby, don't struggle, it's just me," a voice whispered in your ear, and your struggling muscles instantly relaxed.

"The hell are you playing at?" you whisper shouted, spinning around to face him. He still had his race suit on, and his skin was still sticky from the champagne.

"I just needed to see you, needed to touch you," he murmured, pulling you as close as he could. "Wait until we get back, we've been over this," you sighed, trying to ignore the feeling of his hands roaming your figure.

"But I need you now, baby," he spat, pinning you against the wall in one swift movement. "Everyone will hear and anyone who walks past will see," you told him.

"As soon as the last few guys from ours leave, we're the only ones left," he explained to you.

"There are security cameras everywhere, Carlos," you told him, your eyes darting around the space surrounding you, checking for any sign of surveillance. "Nothing can see here, I checked," he smirked.

One of Carlos' hands braced on your waist, the other trailing over your hip bones. "Fuck it," you mumbled, pulling him in by his neck and passionately kissing him. "That's my girl," he breathed against your lips.

You realised that people had stopped wandering out of the track, and you poked your head around the corner to see if there was anyone there. Much to your delight, the path past all of the motorhomes and across the paddock was like a ghost town. 

Most of the lights around the circuit flicked off as the final staff left for the night, leaving you alone at the track. There was a rush of excitement surging through you, curious to do whatever it was that Carlos was so hell bent on doing out in the open, where anyone could potentially see.

No more words were exchanged as you nodded at him to give him the all clear, to give him permission for whatever he was wanting to do. He hungrily took your lips with his, not even giving you the chance to breathe.

It felt like you were in a stormy sea, only able to capture a small gasp of air every now and then, but the burn that lingered in your lungs was like cold air on a winters' day.

Carlos' hands slithered up the sides of your thighs, sneaking under the material of your dress. His touch left tingles in their wake as his fingers brushed the skin on your hips.

"Can I?" he asked, hooking his fingers into the thin side of your underwear. "Of course," you nodded, pulling at his neck to bring him back into a kiss. Once you had stepped out of the lace, it was kicked to the side and discarded.

His lips moved across your jaw and delicately down your neck, across your shoulder. "Unfortunately for the both of us, we need to keep this on, just in case anyone decides to ruin our fun," he smirked against your skin, tugging at the material at the waist of your dress, "I don't want anyone else seeing you the way I get to,"

Normally you'd be alarmed at the prospect of someone seeing, or catching you in the act, but you were too caught up in it to care. Too fuelled with desire to be bothered. Too needy for him to think.

His lips still roamed slowly down, his hand sneaking back under the skirt of your dress and dangerously close to you. His fingers teased the skin of your upper thighs, and the temptation to push yourself closer to him was nearly unbearable.

But then, a thought struck you. "Hey, tonight is about you, allow me, I think you deserve a reward, no?" you breathed, pulling his face within a centimetre of yours by grabbing his chin. Your other hand snaked down his chest, all the way down to where his race suit was rolled down.

Carlos grabbed your wrist, pinning it against the wall. "If it's about me, then it's about you too. Getting to see you squirm for me, getting to hear how much you need me is the best reward you could give me," he smugly grinned, sinking to his knees in front of you.

His lips placed feather light kisses up the insides of your thighs, flitting from one to the other. "Fucking hell," he groaned, seeing the effect he had on you. "It's that easy, huh?" he teased, still kissing the insides of your thighs. "You're just too good," you lightly chucked, a hint of desperation in your voice.

"Say it again, it sounded good," he told you as he pushed your knees further apart. 

"You are so fucking brilliant, I don't even- Fuck," you breathed out as he teased you with his tongue. He slowly circled your clit as you pushed your hips into him.

"Tell me baby, tell me how much you want me," he told you, lightly running his tongue over you. "I need you, Carlos, I don't think I can wait," you pleaded, and it was music to his ears. It was the fuel that kept him going.

Without further hesitation, he started lapping and sucking at all the right places. Those special spots that he had mapped out in his mind. You both held the dangerous assumption that there was not a single soul around that could hear or see what you were doing.

"Am I doing a good job?" he asked, not ceasing with his movements. With his every action, the fizz in your lower abdomen became closer and closer to bubbling over. "Fuck yes you are, please don't stop," you mewled, tangling your hand in his hair, pulling at his dark locks. 

You couldn't help but buck your hips towards him, desperate for more. Carlos let out a low chuckle, "So I'm that good, huh?" he teased, adoring the way you tugged gently at the strands of his hair. "You're a winner for a reason," you said, your back arching off of the wall. 

Tingles were slowly spreading across your body, and the ever more desperate moans you were letting out told Carlos everything he needed to know. "You close, baby?" he asked, half mocking, half serious. 

He could tell the answer of the question quite easily, your legs were starting to shake and your hands were slowing their movements in his hair. "Fuck yes, I-" you managed to get out, the pleasure hitting you in a wave that spread across your body.  

It was like electricity pulsing through your veins, and your legs were buckling underneath you. Carlos rose from his knees and captured your lips in a heated kiss, the taste of you lingering on his tongue. "You know what that is? That's the taste of victory, and I think it's pretty damn good," he told you, caressing your sides.

"You OK to keep going?" he asked, despite is desperation. Even if he needed you more than anything else right now, your comfort was still his top priority. "Mhm, I don't wanna stop," you told him, and that was enough for him. 

You pushed his race suit down his legs quickly, knowing just how much both of you needed it. "Jump," he instructed between kisses, hoisting you up as your legs locked around his waist. He held you against the wall as he guided himself into your entrance. 

"Shit you feel good," he groaned, burying his head into your neck as he rocked his hips into yours. His lips left purply-red splotches on your skin, and you could feel them forming. Every time he thrust into you, you both let out groans of pleasure as you came closer to release. 

"Oh my god you're good, so fucking amazing," you rambled, and your praises fuelled him on more. He started to thrust into you deeper and harder, and he touched that spot that made you see stars. 

"You're the best reward I have ever gotten," he spat through gritted teeth, trying to hold himself together. "You deserve it," you breathed, your thighs burning from being clasped around his waist for the length of time you had. 

"Carlos, I-," you fumbled, unable to form legible words as you felt the pressure in your stomach build up to an unbearable level. You didn't need words to tell him, he could feel the way your walls wrapped tightly around him. 

"Carlos, I'm going to-," you started, but you were silenced by Carlos smashing his lips against yours, "Me too," he groaned as his pace picked up, hungry for release. Both of your moans were muffled as the release of pressure made your vision black out. 

It was like ropes of energy shooting through your abdomen, as you cried out and threw your head back against the wall. Your nails scratched over the skin of his neck, leaving red streaks in their path as the skin turned raw. His hips slowed to a halt as you were both left, breathless and exhausted. 

"Are you OK to stand, or do you want me to hold you for a bit longer?" he asked, his eyes turning from hungry to soft. "I should be fine, you can put me down," you said, Carlos gently lowering you back down to the ground. 

Your legs were kind of numb, as you leant against the wall to catch your breath. "We're still going to get pissed, right?" you asked, not ready for your night to be over. Carlos pulled his race suit back over his hips and stood in front of you, staring at the hickeys he had left on your neck. 

"You're probably going to have to cover these up, but then again, I'd love for everyone to see what I get when I win," he smirked, his hands gripping your waist. 

"Then you're probably going to have to cover these up," you laughed, running your fingers over the red scratches on his neck. "Let people see, I don't mind," he laughed, ignoring the sting they left on his skin. 

"I don't know if I want people knowing what we get up to," you chuckled, leaning against him as you started to walk out from in between the motorhomes. "True, I don't want anyone imagining you like that, that's all for me," he said, gripping you tighter. 

"Tell that to Lando," you quipped, since you knew Carlos knew how flirtatious he was with you. "He's an exception," he winked, checking to see if there were any people around. A blush tinted your cheeks as you realised that Lando's comment from earlier might not have been a joke. 

A/N - It's been a week, I know, I'm sorry. I've been really busy, so think of this as a one week anniversary gift. But in all seriousness, it still doesn't feel real, and it makes Forza Ferrari-ing through the pain that little bit easier. That was the smoothest of operations, and could not be prouder of our chili 🌶💖

|masterlist|

[ckret2]

Ages ago I made a post about what Ford thinks about Bill (in a billford context), and I've had an infodump on what Bill thinks about Ford floating on discord for months, and an ask finally prompted me to post it, so here ya go:

If asked why he likes Ford, Bill himself claims that Ford overthinks everything, but in such fun, interesting ways, and Bill likes the way Ford thinks about things.

But really, Bill overthinks everything too; it's just he overthinks social things. He's always calculating how to persuade, control, manipulate people. He never has a conversation that isn't a chess game, it's exhausting and he won't even admit it's exhausting. When's the last time his top priorities weren't either "how do I convince some sucker to make a portal" or "ugggh I'm so SICK of the PORTAL I'm gonna THROW A PARTY and NOT THINK AT ALL"

Whereas Ford is guy who'd hear someone say something incorrect and bluntly go "no you're wrong" and accidentally offend the hell out of them because he's SO excited to share this fantastic information they don't know. The social world DOES NOT EXIST for him until he's reminded of it.

And so he's free to turn all his brainpower instead to. Like. The environmental impact of barf fairies on fern fertilizer or whatever.

Bill knows Everything™ but he's gotten tired of doing anything with that knowledge. They're all discrete points of information to him. He doesn't have time to muse over things, he's got an inventor to manipulate at 11pm and then a party to get to at midnight. He's never once in his life thought about the impact of barf fairies on the local flora. But he does happen to know the plants in that part of the woods are more acid-resistant and wow is that why???? He's never even thought to think about that before. Thousand year mystery that Bill didn't even notice has been solved.

(On the other hand "Ford doesn't think to think about the intricacies of social interaction" is also part of what makes him so easy to manipulate, he's so much more inclined to just accept at face value a friendly offer of assistance on a big academic project. Sure Bill's helping for the sake of scientific advancement in and of itself, why wouldn't he?)

Bill wants to just, fling random facts at Ford and see if he can think up connections between them. Go nerd boy go nerd boy go

"... So there you have it Ford, that's the problem you'll have to overcome with adapting alien machinery to human fuel sources, now I wanna hear YOUR thoughts on how to overcome that problem." "Well—" talks in an uninterrupted stream that by thirty minutes in has drifted over to the history of kerosene production, which he read an interesting book about between semesters in college— "... I've gotten off topic, haven't I?" "No no, I think you're on to something. This is how brainstorming works, free association of concepts. Keep going."

Ford in the morning: "... oh no I didn't let my muse get a word in edgewise for the rest of the dream, i didn't bore him did I?" Bill: "damn, I never noticed the patent process for hurricane lamps was so contentious. There's little dramas everywhere"

When things are going well, their relationship is,

Ford: "I just wanna hear Bill teach me things about the multiverse forever."

Bill: "I just wanna hear Ford think deeply on any topic that crosses his mind forever."

Both of them when they're in peak harmony: excitedly jabbering at each other at 200 words per minute about the stupidest topic you've ever heard, but you'd need a phd in at least two fields to comprehend it

That's love!!!

Ford, having historically been socially shamed: "... am I being weird?"

Bill: "💕❤️💓yeah❣️💖❤️‍🔥"

Sometimes I think about Bill watching Ford in his sleep and being in awe at this human-shaped genius: you with your beautiful electric mind, packed into this soft flawed uneven body. one would never know it from the outside—but you're in there. This genius with a mind like a galaxy. ... and he's like, growing hair and stuff. wild.

[restinslices]

I hope you feel better soon (from ur posts about ur health). Could I request for Bi-Han with a 'Genius' daughter? Basically she has extremely high intelligence, can create artificial life (despite it not lasting long) and is an exceptional strategist.

Thanks for the well wishes! Hope you enjoy!

Bi-Han takes great pride in being a Lin Kuei, so just imagine how much pride he takes when his own child is a genius-

Bi-Han would definitely push his daughter when it comes to certain skills, so I think he'd catch on to her having high intelligence rather quickly

Notices that every challenge he gives her, she passes easily

We saw that there's a whole hologram type of area, plus there's already suits being created so there must be an area for that aswell

His daughter prefers to spend a lot of time there, and I think that's what would clue him in that something's going on in that brain of her's

He has her working with Sektor and observes very closely

"Impressed" isn't a strong enough word to describe how he feels

"Proud" doesn't scratch the surface either

How many people can say they have a genius child? One that can create artificial life? One that's an exceptional strategist? Some of these kids can't even read at their grade level-

No tea no shade, but if she's not his first child, he's making her the heir to the Lin Kuei anyway

Y'all remember how he complimented Sektor? He'd do the same to his daughter

"The improvements you've made to the suits have not gone unnoticed, daughter. Your intelligence is a blessing to all. I am proud to be your father"

Ik Bi-Han is this very tough dude who's hard on people but y'all gonna try and convince me he's not making his approval known?

Especially after the shit he's dealt with when it comes to different views with his dad and brothers, a daughter making his life easier is what he needs fr

I can see him watching her work on whatever it is even if he has no idea what's going on

This video is their dynamic

I think it's easy to be like "oh he'd be jealous of his daughter because he wants to have her intelligence and bring the Lin Kuei up in the world!"

No

I don't see it like that

I mean damn, Sektor is smarter than him when it comes to mechanical shit. He didn't seem jealous or angry. He was impressed and applauded her intelligence

There's just no way he's being a salty bitch towards his daughter.

"Your kid doesn't know the difference between their they're and there. My daughter builds android butterflies. We are not the same"

He wouldn't say it like that, but you get my point

All I see is a very proud dad. He has no idea why she's so damn smart but he's not complaining. I see a lot of admiring what she does and letting her put in her two cents when it comes to plans, which is something he does NOT let just anybody do

"I don't have a favorite child!" *only has her pictures on the wall*

Gods forbid he has other kids-

But this is a fluff ask so we will not be getting into that :D

[reccyls]

Surprise Bag 2024 Story (Prologue)

The April Fool's story from 2024. This is only the prologue, as the continuations are sold as story sales that I will not be purchasing. I do still think it is very funny, though.

The premise is a bodyswap, Ellis <> Jude and Elbert <> Alfons

Ever since I became a Fairytale Keeper, I like to think that my tolerance for the extraordinary has increased.

However, this latest happening in Crown far surpassed anything I had ever experienced.

"Jude": Good morning, Miss Kate. I'll make you happy today too.

Kate: ...Jude, did you... hit your head on something?

"Jude": Hm? Nope, I'm perfectly fine. Haven't hit my head on anything.

Kate: What happened to your usual terrible attitude?! Did you catch a cold? Are you injured? We have to go to the hospital now--

"Ellis": Tch, the hell is this?

"Jude": Ah, Jude. "Jude": Huh? Jude, why are you me?

"Ellis": I should be the one asking. Why the hell are you me?

Kate: Wha? Huh??

"Elbert": Ahha! Something terribly amusing seems to have happened, hasn't it?

Kate: Alf- Eh, Lord Elbert? Kate: Wait, so then is that 'Alfons' standing behind you...?

"Alfons": ...When I looked in the mirror, I became Al.

"Elbert": Being able to look at oneself from the point of view of an outsider truly is fascinating. "Elbert": Oh yes, El. Do speak more energetically. It's unsettling to hear myeslf sound so glum.

"Alfons": ...More energetically? ...I'll, try... "Alfons": ........Ahha.

"Elbert": I suppose that's my mistake for asking you to be more energetic.

Kate: Wait, just hold on a second. So what's happened is... Kate: ...Jude and Ellis, and then Lord Elbert and Alfons have swapped bodies!? Kate: What kind of ridiculous situation is this...!?

"Ellis": It's that goddamn doctor bastard's fault. I'll kill him.

---

Gathering the remainder of Crown, we questioned Roger about the circumstances. He let out an unrestrained laugh.

Roger: My bad, my bad. Who'd ever think that the results would pay off this quickly? Aren't I a genius?

Victor: Now's not the time, Roger! What did you do to cause this adorable- excuse me, very troubling situation?

Liam: Victor, you're not hiding your true feelings very well. Your words and face don't match at all.

Roger: I had the thought of swapping a cursed person with a normal person. That could lead to the curse transferring, couldn't it? So I was doing some research.

William: Your unquenchable thirst for knowledge is admirable indeed. But if that were the case, shouldn't you be experimenting with a cursed person and a normal human?

Roger: It'd be pretty dangerous for us if something went wrong while I was experimenting on a normal person, wouldn't it? I thought I'd test things out on these guys first.

Harrison: Just what do you think we are? We die just as easy as normal people, you know.

"Elbert": Let's toss that musclehead four-eyes into the Thames.

"Ellis": Yeah. Fix some stone weights to him and it'll be over quick.

Kate: Stop, stop! Don't say things like that wearing Elbert and Ellis's faces!

"Jude": But that's pretty amazing, Roger. I never thought that medicine like this could exist.

Liam: ...Jude being all soft is- nope, that's just weird!

Roger: Don't worry so much. Once I've collected enough data from you lot, I'll whip up an antidote. Roger: ........Once I've got an antidote, I can start testing on the others.

Harrison: ...You just said something awful, didn't you?

Roger: Don't know what you're talking about.

"Elbert": You're acting like you're in any position to bargain about turning us back? Pardon my French, but go die.

Harrison: Yikes... Uh, Liam? Hey, Liam, hey. Did he fall asleep?

"Jude": Sorry, I touched his head. I was curious about whether I could use Jude's power or not.

Roger: Huh, so the ability stays with the body. I really am a genius after all, aren't I?

(This isn't helping anymore...!)

Kate: A-anyway! Please make that antidote as soon as possible, Roger! Kate: ...Geez. What are we going to do if Her Majesty hears about this?

Roger: Well, I might end up getting fired... Roger: ...So it's up to you to watch over the lot of them to make sure nobody else finds out about this, little lady.

Kate: Huh? ...Roger? Wait!

"Ellis": Tch... Fuck it. Let him get kicked out.

"Jude": Ah, Jude, my body isn't used to--

"Ellis": *cough, cough*... Ellis. First thing we're doing is to start training so you can at least handle one cigar.

"Elbert": Hmm... with a face like this, I could get away with doing pretty much anything, don't you think?

"Alfons": ...Kate, is this spoon beautiful?

Kate: M-my poor sanity...!

[wandabear]

the river's daughter

ㅤㅤㅤ Pairing: Natasha romanoff x female reader Summary: You are nothing more than an avatar of a goddess that has lived many years. And even though you think you know everything, there's always something or someone that comes into your life to surprise you. ㅤㅤㅤ natasha's masterlist wanda's masterlist

warnings: mentions of death, violence, angst, fluff and smut. (+18) top!nat

How does it feel? Feeling that every day is the same, over and over again. Anyone would lose their minds with such daily monotony, so many years. But she was okay with it, for a long, long time. ㅤㅤㅤ

Do you want to know how it all started? First of all, you should know that it wasn't easy. Mercy, that's something they never had for her.

ㅤㅤㅤ They stoned her, beat her, spit on her and abused her. They tied the girl up like a pig and burned at the stake, cheering as her skin burned slowly; if a man craved knowledge and discovered something that would change the world, he was a genius. But if a woman did, you were quickly considered a witch.

ㅤㅤㅤ Well, now it isn't the same as before.  Of course they don't burn you for being smart but, let's say that the same ignorant people are always there.

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ 1452 AD.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Witch!” Exclaimed one of the residents of that town, as the girl was carried through those dirty streets, her feet collided, splashing in the rain puddles. The girl was dragged through that place against her will, she cried trying to let go, but the mob pushed her over and over again.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Hitting her. Insulting her. Spitting on her. ㅤㅤㅤ

“You're disgusting! You should be ashamed!” Yelled her own mother, hitting Y/N’s cheek so hard. A dirty face, a broken lip and eyes full of anguish.

ㅤ⠀

“I haven't done anything, I swear. I'm not a witch!” Y/N defended herself, until one of the men took her by the neck, taking her to the stake.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Don't listen to her, she's not herself anymore. A demon has possessed her body and the only way is to purify her.” exclaimed the village priest, raising his hands. “The fire will purify her soul.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Please, it's just me.” Y/N asked through tears. Those tears mixed with the soot on her cheekbones, dark tears falling down her face. She didn't understand why she had to be there, she didn’t do anything wrong.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Showing interest in science, contradicting everything trying to find a coherent answer, was strange. She wanted data, proof, she wanted answers. Y/N wanted to travel the world, wanted to know love.

The love of a girl who was watching her from the crowd, disappointed. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Do it now!” Alfred yelled, one of the men from the village came up with others, and Y/N’ legs trembled. Just remembering what happened two nights ago, a chill ran through her body.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Help!” The girl screamed desperately as she felt Alfred settle behind her, so intimidating. Those screams and her crying were not going to save her. The decision was made, her fate was inevitable. Her wet eyes allowed Y/N to barely see the faces of each of the people who were in front of the pyre. One by one, the people she knew since she was a child. Looks of disapproval, disgust and pity.

ㅤㅤㅤ

An anguished gasp escaped her dry lips as Alfred picked up one of the torches and flung it at Y/N’s feet, starting the fire. There was no turning back. 

Why did she felt so guilty?  She was the victim here, about to be burned alive.  How could she forgive them?

ㅤㅤㅤ

The flames spread quickly, fear gnawing at her skin as she tried to loosen her grip. Her teeth clenched, jaw aches but she tried to be strong. 

So what? What was the point of fighting? What was the point of crying? What was the point of yelling?

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N’s teary eyes rested one more time on the people in the place and then, she looked up at the sky. A huge moon settled in the sky; she had always felt a certain peace at night. ㅤㅤㅤ Her lungs filled with oxygen for one last time, the smoke was beginning to make her cough but that wasn't the worst. Fire licked at skin, hands trembled with pain, so slow. ㅤㅤㅤ Do you know what is the worst thing about dying like that? In addition to wanting to die quickly, the worst is the smell. You start to feel like the first layers of skin burn, every part of you until finally your nerves finally die. That is when you are grateful that death comes, but it will still take time. ㅤㅤㅤ

The moon at midnight witnessed the pain of a woman and the negligence of those people. And her last thought was devoted to what she had loved most in her life, to the wonders she had witnessed. ㅤㅤㅤ

To the frogs in the river that jumped while she looked at the eggs they laid on the plants, marveling at something as simple as a tadpole. 

ㅤㅤㅤ To the bugs in the grass she watched with curiosity, to the crows that prowled the pastures while she came back home in the afternoons. 

People used to call her ‘the river’s daughter’, because she was always there.

ㅤㅤㅤ

And Y/N innocently wished she could live a little longer. Wanting retribution for her life taken so unfairly. She wanted revenge, she wanted to travel, to know, she wanted so much more. And nature responded, but not in the way she expected.

ㅤㅤㅤ

I feel the pain inside of you.

ㅤㅤㅤ

A voice, so soft, like a warm hug in the freezing winter, feeling an absolute calm that she had never felt. Was that part of dying? Because if it was, it was so much better than being alive in a cold place like this.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Who are you?” 

ㅤㅤㅤ

Do you really want to live again?

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N thought about that question, of course she wanted another chance. But was it possible?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ “Yes.” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Do you swear to protect the wild nature and hunt those who would do them harm?

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Yes.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Then now you will be known by many names… Artemis. Medeina. Diana. Aradia. Arduinna. So many names… but it will always be you, Artio.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Rise and live again.”

NOW

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You're getting in trouble, aren't you?  know you so well, Y/N. Just stay outta trouble.” - received from Alena two minutes ago.

ㅤㅤㅤ

The cloaked woman sighed deeply and put away her phone, watching the city from that building. It was a fairly quiet night.

Narrowing her eyes, Y/N quickly shapeshifted into a bat to fly and silently entered through that broken window.

Getting to the fourth floor was easier than she expected, silently killing each of the thugs. One by one, they died under the edge of her blades.

ㅤㅤㅤ

She stopped for a moment to use her powers and listen to how many more were left and specifically, where was what she was looking for.

Y/N took a few more steps until she stopped, hearing gun shots on some lower floors. Someone else had entered the building, a team.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Nice.”  Y/N growled. She was definitely going to have to hurry.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Hearing those shots outside, that big man sighed and turned to see the redhead in front of him. That woman lay tied to the chair, it was clear that she had been interrogated and tortured for hours.

The legendary Black Widow was handcuffed, spending hours in that interrogation in that disgusting and humid room.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“This is not how I wanted this evening to go.”  The man named Lev Nikolayevich, a big arms trafficking leader, sat across from her at the desk. Beside Nat, two of his thugs smirked.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “They will come for you soon.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Then you better talk fast or you'll be food for my dog.” Lev said in a raspy voice, pointing to the huge dog at the side of the room. That dog with grayish fur due to dust and dirt, the scars and some wounds that were barely healing showed that it was used for fighting.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Who are you working for?” The man asked again. “Spiridonov, right?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I thought General Spiridonov was in charge of the business.” Natasha just kept staring at him.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Lev lit a cigarette and inhaled the smoke deeply, playing with the idea of burning her with it. “Your outdated information betrays you.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha's eyes widened and she swallowed, trying to play the role of a frightened and emotionally vulnerable woman.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“The famous Black Widow…” He smiled, blowing out the smoke on Natasha’s face. “...and she turns out to be just another pretty face.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Arching a flirtatious eyebrow, Natasha murmured: “Do you think I’m pretty?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Ms. Romanoff.” Lev moved the cigar toward Natasha's bare leg. “If you're looking for a confession-”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Before he could say anything else, an arrow pierced the neck of one of his friends. Making him fall to the ground, choking on his own blood.

Startled, Lev turned to see the hooded figure in the doorway carrying a bow.

The first thing Natasha thought about was Clint, and of course she was going to kill him when they got out of there. That was her undercover mission.

ㅤㅤㅤ But seeing how the other thug was brutally beaten by that agile figure and then impaled with an arrow, the widow realized that it couldn't be him. Clint would never kill without mercy.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Lev took a step back, terrified especially when the hooded woman aimed another arrow at his chest.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Wait, we need him!”  Natasha growled, she had gone through all that just to get information from that guy. She needed him alive. 

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Get in line.”  Y/N grunted.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I don't know who you are, but the Avengers need him. He has some big deal intel about-” The black widow tried to 'manipulate' her but she didn't know that this woman was immune to it. Y/N didn't care in the slightest what happened to that human trash.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I don't care about your business.” Y/N quickly interrupted her, aiming it straight at the man's throat. “I only came for the dog.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

She hated humans, she didn't care about this guy or any of them. Without further ado, Y/N shot the arrow through Lev's throat and nailing him against the wall. 

ㅤㅤㅤ

The goddess watched as the light disappeared from the man's eyes and then approached to free the dog and get out of that place. 

ㅤㅤㅤ

“That’s okay, boy, we’re leaving.” she cooed. That huge puppy only wagged his tail so happy that someone got him out of that torture. Natasha just watched that scene without being able to believe it, without being able to understand it.

ㅤㅤㅤ Y/N walked to the door with that excited dog by her side until Natasha's voice made her stop:

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Who are you?” The redhead frowned curiously and worried, she couldn't see her face but it was definitely a woman. But the goddess did not answer, she just smiled and left that place.

ㅤㅤㅤ

By the time Natasha managed to free herself from that chair, Y/N had completely disappeared, without leaving any trace of her participation that night. That was a complete mystery to her.

That was the first time she crossed paths with Natasha Romanoff.

After a long journey, Y/N finally returned home with that big pup by her side. Closed the door but stood for a moment, feeling a presence that told her that she wasn't alone.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Go eat something, boy.” Y/N told the dog with a kind look.

ㅤㅤㅤ

The pup lowered his head and walked towards the kitchen, understanding and giving her the space she needed. Y/N turned and walked towards the living room, meeting a woman in front of the huge window. A tall, brunette woman of about thirty-five years old, wearing a suit that made her look spectacular.

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I knew it, I swear...”  Alena shook her head, utterly tired. “I just- I knew you were doing some shit!”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Look-” Y/N tried, coming closer. The goddess understood how upset Alena could be with her, how many times she saved her ass. 

ㅤㅤㅤ

“No, don’t ‘look’ at me.” 

ㅤㅤㅤ

“He was a bad man.” Y/N exhaled and approached her sister, who just crossed her arms, waiting for a good excuse. “He polluted this planet, trafficked weapons and also had fighting dogs. Can you believe it? I wasn't going to stay still.”

“Y/N…” Alena stood in front of her, rubbing her temple. “We cannot interfere in human affairs. Like that man last time-”

“They were not just human affairs. He loved to kill whales in the Faroe Islands!” Y/N growled.  “Trust me, just because we are here doesn't mean I have to sit around doing nothing, I'm sick of it.”

Alena just sat on the edge of the sofa, sighing. After so many years of being together, Y/N never ceased to amaze her or give the biggest headaches.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N was the avatar of Artio, goddess of the hunt and the wild nature, but Alena was the avatar of Athena. The great mighty Athena, goddess of Wisdom, heroic endeavor and war. Unlike Ares who embodied war in a brutal way, Athena directed war battles in an intelligent and orderly manner. That's why she was in charge now.

And of course, many times she was extremely responsible and kinda bossy, the complete opposite of Y/N.

“Y/N, we made a pact a long time ago and we must keep it that way, or everything is going to be a mess.” The taller brunette sighed, she could easily scold and beat her up, but she just looked at her sister and spoke to her patiently. “We don't interfere. We can't.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“What do you expect me to do?” Y/N exhaled tiredly, sitting on the couch. “They love Thor.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Thor is a fucking alien.” Alena shrugged, watching that beautiful view from the place. The warm sun shining against her face. “We defy all their beliefs because we are from this very planet. They see Steve Rogers as an old man, a living fossil, imagine what they'll say if they know we've been around for much longer. Hundreds, thousands of years.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“They don't deserve us anyway. They'd hate us the moment they found out, they're just awful, violent parasites. Sorry for the comparison, poor parasites.” Y/N said, quite annoyed, there wasn't even a human she liked enough. She just used them as she pleased.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Some are really worth it.” the brunette whispered.  “They make mistakes, just like us. The difference is that some of them try to do better, and some of us would never consider it.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N was silent for a moment, she was right. Well, most of the time, but it was still worth accepting. Especially for a soul as rebellious as Y/N's.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Okay, I’m sorry.” She looked down.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I know.” But Alena just smiled tenderly and nodded. After all, Y/N was still young. “I did something crazy the other day too.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N frowned. “Like what?” 

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Well… There was a guy who was going to go free, and I just… I used my powers and I made him confess.”  The goddess got up from the sofa and adjusted her suit. She seemed somewhat embarrassed just saying it, which made Y/N just laughed.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“That’s doing justice, that’s your job. That’s not something crazy.” Y/N still didn't seem to understand. What was the big deal?

ㅤㅤㅤ

Alena looked quite guilty for what she had done. “I didn't follow the rules and I manipulated him, that's a bit wrong, Y/N.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

But Y/N just laughed even louder.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I thought you'd say something incredibly crazy or have an orgy or something… But, sis, you’re weird and boring.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ

The second time Y/N ran into Natasha it was a few years later, and it was even more unexpected.

ㅤㅤ Y/N took a deep breath, feeling the sea breeze against her face. She smiled, she'd always loved Norway. The goddess walked on that road, among the trees and the cliff facing the ocean. She arrived in Norway a week ago for reasons much more difficult to explain, Alena needed her presence in some kind of meeting but being in that place was revitalizing, especially surrounded by so much nature.

ㅤㅤㅤ

The woman stood in front of that cliff, rejoicing at feeling the light drizzle. The song of the birds made her close her eyes, smile widely. Everything was perfect until the sound of a car engine made her grunt a bit annoyed.

ㅤㅤㅤ

In the distance, a small car was slowing down. It was a small Lada Niva driven by a redhead woman who lowered her window to chat with her.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Hi.” Natasha said in a husky voice, watching the woman curiously.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Hey.” Y/N mumbled. 

ㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha Romanoff again. How come of so many people in this fucking world, it had to be just her?

Y/N froze, thinking that the agent might recognize her but then she remembered that Natasha never saw her face.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Are you lost?” Natasha asked a bit worried, not only at the thought of someone hanging around near her trailer, but with that woman near the cliff, what if she wanted to jump? She couldn't just ignore it.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Oh, no… well, I- I think so? My phone just… stopped working.” Y/N chuckled embarrassedly, clearly faking it. “Sorry.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“It’s okay.” The redhead nodded and relaxed a little more. “Do you need a ride somewhere?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N licked her lips, looking around. Denying it would be quite suspicious and the last thing she needed was that woman to follow her steps. The brunette smiled tenderly and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“That would be good although my mother taught me not to get into strangers' cars.” Y/N teased, making Natasha smile.

Y/N walked around that car and sighed deeply before getting into it.

ㅤㅤㅤ

The scent of Natasha's perfume reached her, truly exquisite. Could notice some wild raspberry tones. She also saw some bags in the back seat, the russian spy was clearly coming back from the store.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Do you live here?” Y/N cocked her head to look at her. Natasha kept her gaze fixed on the long and lonely road. “Interesting place. It's boring?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Not much.” Natasha sighed. “I like the calm.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N just nodded and turned her gaze to see the beautiful ocean. The waves crashed against the cliff, and with each swell, she felt revitalized.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Are you backpacking? or just a tourist?” Nat asked more incisively, clearly beginning to be suspicious. She noticed that Y/N was carrying a backpack, not too big. “I mean, you don't have a Norwegian accent.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N smiled a little shy. “You're right, I'm not from here. I am a tourist, I arrived some days ago.” She opened the backpack slowly, noticing how Natasha tensed. “I am a wildlife photographer, I came to learn and see some puffins.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N took a camera out of the backpack, showing it to her. She had to make a supernatural effort not to laugh when she saw Natasha's face. Maybe thought she'd pull out a gun.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Nice.” The redhead swallowed and smiled sheepishly. “I’m Natalie.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Oh, silly. We know exactly who you are.” Y/N thought and smirked.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I’m Y/N.” 

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Natasha nodded, but then she wrinkled her nose. “What’s a puffin?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N giggled at her question and stared at the redhead for a moment. 

She carefully observed every part of Nat’s face, those green eyes, her nose, those lips. The adorable red-haired braids contrast with her pale skin. Maybe playing with the humans for a while wouldn't hurt.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Do you have two hours to find out?”  Y/N arched an eyebrow. “Unless you're afraid of a stranger.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha looked at her somewhat surprised and perhaps interested. Who was that mysterious woman? Why did she feel that she knew her from somewhere?

ㅤㅤㅤ

“This is beautiful.” Natasha's voice showed how amazed she was.

They were both sitting on the grass in front of that beautiful cliff facing the ocean, the blue sky made it even more wonderful. The sound of the birds and the waves was all they could hear.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha had been in Norway for a while, but never experienced anything like that.

A few steps from them, there were some adorable chubby birds. They were black and white, their beaks had some beautiful and vivid colors like orange, red and yellow.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I’m in love with them.” Nat giggled, maybe happy for the first time in a long time. Perhaps somewhat adorable and clumsy to walk, they just managed to win Natasha Romanoff's heart and that wasn't easy.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“They’re the most punctual bird in the world.” Y/N whispered, smiling at them. “They arrive to spend the summer here on the same day, every year. Nobody knows why.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Some call them 'the clowns of the sea'.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“That’s a cute clown.” Nat smirked, seeing how an adorable puffin came out of its cave with another and began to rub its beak against its partner's, in a very adorable way. “Oh, look how their beaks collide! Are they kissing or something?!”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N watched as Natasha seemed fascinated, and strangely the goddess felt something inside her. Something new, something she didn’t know. A warm feeling that she swore she never felt before.

Tenderness.

Seeing how those green eyes showed illusion, in perhaps the most deadly person on this planet. The goddess was enormously curious now.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Yes, that’s how they show love.” Y/N laughed, this time she didn't pretend. “They’re quite romantic. Once they’ve mated they stay together forever.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Nat nodded and smirked. “Quite romantic indeed.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Biting her lower lip, perhaps a little needy for some little contact with another being, Y/N barely whispered a few words to one of the puffins.

It wasn't any kind of manipulation, she just invited him to come closer and the bird, knowing who she was, gladly accepted.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“What is he doing?” Natasha asked a bit worried, noticing how that bird was getting closer.

With clumsy steps and constant flapping, that puffin slowly approached Natasha until it was facing her.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Opening her eyes wide, Nat stood still, not knowing what to do. She didn't want that bird to hurt her but she didn't want to hurt him either.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“It won't hurt you, it's just curious.”Y/N chuckled at the redhead's nervousness. “Touch his head, very gently.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I…” Natasha hesitated for a moment.  She didn't know how to say it.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You don’t wanna hurt him.” So Y/N said it for her, somewhat surprised. Such a selfless act, she would never have expected.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“No, I don’t.” The redhead sighed. “Isn't it an endangered bird or something? I wouldn't want to ruin it.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Just do it gently.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Despite her fear, Natasha reached out her hand to that bird and gently caressed its head. That puffin began to flutter happily, snuggling between her legs for a minute and then walking around her.

Y/N just laughed and reached for her camera, taking some pictures of the bird. And though Natasha didn't notice, she took a few of the smiling redhead befriending a curious puffin.

ㅤㅤㅤ

After a few minutes of wandering, the bird decided to fly and return to his family.

Both were silent for a while, enjoying the place and taking pictures until Y/N opened her backpack. She pulled out a small lunch box with sandwiches and a bottle of water.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You have a lot of food for just one person.” Natasha said somewhat suspiciously.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N arched an eyebrow and handed her the lunch box. “I eat a lot.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

That was true tho.  Noticing how the redhead looked at the food with mistrust, the brunette took a bite first, staring at her.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha gave her a fake smile and took a sandwich. “How about we get to know each other? Let's do some questions.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Sure. Shoot.” Y/N shrugged.

ㅤㅤㅤ

She knew that for a while, Natasha had doubted her since they met. Wasn’t stupid or naive at all, the redhead was one of the best agents of one of the most important agencies in the world.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Are you an agent?” The black widow narrowed her eyes at her, taking a bite of the sandwich. The goddess turned to stare at her, accepting that challenge.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Sincerely, she answered short and concisely. “No.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Are you part of the government? An undercover agent?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“No.” Y/N blinked slowly, she wasn't even intimidated and that made Natasha feel a bit nervous.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Are you telling me the truth?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Yes.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

If Natasha was sure of anything, it was that she knew very well when someone was lying to her.  And so far, the stranger had been passing her test.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Did you come here for me?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“No.” 

ㅤㅤㅤ

Nat thought for a moment what to say, Y/N seemed to be telling the truth or was better than her at lying, and that was very difficult to accept. But she never broke the connection between their gazes.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Do you know who I am?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Finally one of the most important questions and at the same time easier to answer.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Who doesn't know you, Natasha Romanoff? A.K.A Black Widow, wanted by many. You’re quite a star on TV… ex-Avenger.” Y/N smiled and took another bite of the sandwich. 

ㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha didn't say anything for a moment, analyzing everything the brunette had said and then sighed. She was telling the truth.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Did I pass your test yet, agent Romanoff? Can I keep eating my sandwich?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ

The next thing she knew was how Natasha was taking her inside that trailer, closing the door without even looking. Couldn't take her lips off her or hands from Y/N's body.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N's eyes reflect desire and passion, but above all, how delighted and excited she felt to see Natasha in such a passionate way.

Sex had always been a good way to connect, Y/N couldn't help but feel the need at times, but nothing and no one really mattered to her.

ㅤㅤㅤ

But this time, this one was different.

ㅤㅤㅤ

The way Natasha took off her clothes, the way the widow dominated her whole naked body in that bed.  First, the redhead dedicated herself to devouring her, kissing, touching, biting Y/N's body with devotion and passion, making her feel truly like a goddess. How that tongue made her come over and over again.

ㅤㅤㅤ

As those fingers marked her, running through Y/N’s body with patience and need at the same time. As the widow first invited the woman to ride her on her favorite toy, then being thrusted over and over again, Y/N hid her face in the pillow swallowing to drown her moans but it was impossible. 

ㅤㅤㅤ

Those soft hands held the goddess' hips like she owned her, and far from hating it, for a night, Y/N loved it. Those soft, full lips kissing the back of her neck, her tattooed back as Nat filled her completely.

Cupping Y/N’s breasts that moved with each thrust, each one of them bringing her closer and closer to a new orgasm.

ㅤㅤㅤ

But far from allowing her a break, the redhead captured Y/N’s lips again. One more time. Natasha definitely seemed to need this, she needed to release all that tension and Y/N was the most exquisite way right now.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Fed up with the melancholy and the gray and lonely days far from the Avengers, Natasha spent the night making Y/N hers looking for a little shred of joy. Biting, kissing, devouring, sinking deep inside her. Trying to forget.

ㅤㅤㅤ

The next day, Natasha woke up feeling the warmth of the sun against her face but also an empty cold bed. The redhead sat on the bed confused, being the 'abandoned' one without a goodbye this time seemed to make her ego feel a bit hurt.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Of course she used to do it all the time, but that woman… that woman completely stole her attention and interest from that day on.

Her phone vibrated on the table and for a moment she hoped it was her, but Nat only smiled slightly when she saw that it was just Rick Mason saying:  ‘I have what you asked for.’

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ

Both were in that office in one of the best buildings in New York City, where Alena practiced as one of the best lawyers in that firm. 

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Thank you, Sylvie.” Alena smiled at her assistant as she placed both cups of coffee on the desk. Y/N smiled at the girl before she closed the door.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Once Sylvie disappeared, her sister finally snapped.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“So…”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Alena pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to find patience. “You fucked THE Black Widow.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Well… yep.” Y/N smiled toothly, taking the coffee and dropping some sugar into it. “It was worth it.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You’re so lucky you only fuck women, or we would be having some serious shit with demigods, like that time… Remember? It was a fucking mess.” Alena growled, maybe being Athena's avatar made her a little grumpy sometimes. “Was it good?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N laughed at the curiosity of her sister, who narrowed her eyes excited to hear some gossip. “Really good, like… I was very surprised. Best sex i've ever had.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Alena frowned. “Really surprised? It's the Black Widow, everyone wants a little of that. She’s like sex itself... Just admit that you have a human crush, there's nothing wrong with that. Even Aphrodite loved her. ”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“As if you don't have a secret crush on the little witch.” Y/N teased, enjoying too much to annoy her sister.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I’m not.” Alena laughed nervously, so nervous that she almost pushed her coffee cup clumsily.  “I just feel that life has been very unfair to her.”

ㅤㅤ

“Yeah, sure.” Y/N rolled her eyes and then looked at the nearest tv, watching the news repeat over and over how the Avengers saved the world again. “They did it again.” 

ㅤㅤ

“Yep, I saw it. That's why I'm trying to work on this.” Alena sighed, typing quickly.

ㅤㅤ

“At least they're giving you a nice tribute.” Y/N teased and scrunched her nose.  “Goddess of heroic endeavor.”

ㅤㅤ

“Fuck you.” Alena sighed and took one of her files, signing some papers.  “Look at me, I was a respected goddess leading battles and now I'm signing these fucking papers to do some justice.”

ㅤㅤ

They both smiled with a certain sadness, times had changed a lot. For the better in many things, and for others, everything remained the same.

ㅤㅤ

“And yet, years later, you still think they're worth it.” Y/N drank some of her coffee.

ㅤㅤ

“I know there's no excuse for what they did to you when you died, but they're not all the same.” Alena took off her glasses to look at her for a moment, crossing her arms on the table. The papers could wait.

ㅤㅤ

“Because you love them.”  Y/N just sighed. Of course Alena loved humans, like half the gods who were barely still alive. But not Y/N, she still couldn't forgive them.

ㅤㅤ

“Because I personally think they can be better.” Alena stirred her coffee and drank some of it. “I'm not the one who fucks them.”

ㅤㅤ

Y/N laughed amused and got up to leave. “You should.”

ㅤㅤ 

“Please, don't get in trouble.” The brunette managed to say before her sister left the office. When Y/N turned around, Alena raised an eyebrow and said: “We don't need to mess with the Avengers.”

ㅤㅤ 

Y/N just grinned and walked out of the office, giving her the middle finger.

But the third time she met Natasha Romanoff, it was memorable. Because it was at that very moment.

[zombiec4ke]

hello, this is my first time requesting something ever but could you do a wheatley x gn reader? like maybe where the reader finds him a dumpster after the stuff that happens in portal? maybe just some fluff and wheatley being a needy boi

A/N: OMG MY FIRST REQUEST YIPPEE :D Warnings: nothing besides some swears, toothroting fluff, and wheatley being a drama king

Since the day you stumbled upon Wheatley in that dumpster and, for sheer lack of anything better to do, deciding to give him a better chance at life (you repaired him) life with him has become....rather...strange? Wheatley never shuts up and it often irritates you since you're the quiet type. But even then Wheatley really likes you despite everything, and your presence is everything to him. The adorable little robot does everything to get your attention and that's honestly cute. but not how he sometimes tries to get your attention ...like this time.... "Hey, hey! y/n," Wheatley's sphere body rolls until it reaches your feet "Hey, Mate look at me, look at me, look at meeee!" Wheatley says while slamming his spherical body against your leg...'thats definitely going to leave a bruise....' you say to yourself you sigh deeply putting down your sandwich you were making and you look down to see what wheatley wants to show you this time "Oh, thank splendid! You're finally paying attention to me." Wheatley says his single blue eye 'winks'. "Look, I've been working on this, a little project of mine. It's the greatest thing since sliced bread, or maybe even better." Wheatley says his body rolling back, revealing a small pile of what appears to be Lego blocks, hastily assembled into a crude, almost…wall? like shape. "what…is it if I may ask…?" you ask with an eyebrow raise wondering how did he even make it in the first place…he's just a..sphere…? "Well, it's a… a… divider, of course! You see, it's a way to separate your space from mine. I' know you've been saying you want some privacy, so I thought, 'Why not?'" Wheatley says doing a little spin "It's brilliant, right? I mean, look at the mastery, the workmanship, the sheer genius behind this. It's a stroke of brilliance, isn't it?" The little robot gestures with his eye, trying to sell the idea, even though it's a bit of an eyesore. The Lego creation is hardly a thing of beauty, but it's the thought that counts, right? And, well, y/n, you have to admit, it's something. He's trying to make your home a better place for both of you, in his own, clumsy way. "I'm more impressed how you managed to build this without hands" you say slightly chuckling "Oh, that's easy, mate. I just roll over the pieces, you know, one by one. It's simple. And then I just… push them together with my sphere-ness. It's all about force and momentum. I'm quite the multitasker, if I do say so myself." Wheatley's eye sparkles with pride, as if he's just solved the world's energy crisis with his little Lego creation. The truth is, he's just happy that he made something, and even happier that you're looking at it. "So, what do you think? Do I get a pat on the back, or am I just a moron who can't even build a wall properly?" He tilts enthusiastically It's obvious he's trying to impress you, and even if it's a bit misguided, you can't help but smile at his efforts. you smile and pick up wheatley and give him a boop on his not-a-nose-noseish-area (idk what to call it lmao-) "you did good buddy, I love it" as you give him a boop wheatley sputters before getting the human equivalent to an adrenaline boost and he speeds around your legs going in circles "Splendid!! I knew you would love it!!" you cant help but smile at this and you pick up your sandwich "Thanks again Wheatley, Ima finish making a sandwich and you can continue working on your divider" ""Enjoy your sandwich, y/n! I'll keep working on this masterpiece. I'll make sure it's up to your standards." And with that, Wheatley returns to his Lego creation, rolling back and forth, adding more blocks to his wall. and you while you make your sandwich you can't help but let your mind wander that this whole thing kinda weird…I mean come on…your only friend being a robot you found in the dumpster…you mom always said you would end up a lonely outcast…but you never thought you would be this lonely…

But then again you gives a fuck in this society, you yourself is happy so go fuck whoever tells you otherwise. all you need in life is your sphere robot buddy even though sometimes hes an idiot and set your house on fire one time.... *cough* but that's another story....

A/N: I really hope you like it!! I did my best, dont be shy to send in more requests :D

[lausterdomyamong]

Can we learn a bit more about your hsr sona? What is her relationship with Ratio like? What does she think of Aventurine? (Considering how him and Ratio spend much of the Penacony quest bickering). What is her general view of Ratios trip to Penacony?

This is going to be long, I haven't checked my inbox this past month — sorry for such late answer in advance !

Moving on, I'm glad you asked this question about my sona! There are many things to explore between her character and her relationship with canon characters which I'm not really daring to talk about that much. I have her info in Thai, but since I haven't write anything in english for a while now, this might came out a bit wonky with the wording and all, feel free to ask more after you finished reading it!

I'll call her Lauster while we're talking, so it's easy to read than call her my sona repeatedly– let's go.

My HSR sona + relationship with canon characters.

With Veritas Ratio, the very first time they met — they were classmates at Intelligentsia Guild. She wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, thus meeting THE Veritas Ratio, making her feel admire as much as she despise to be on the same team with him, or opposite team, in any project. He was just that outstanding, so confident, so bright that she must close her eyes shut. Lauster hates how sharp-witted he is, hates how much he was so right about everything, hates how he never conceal or sugarcoating his words, hates that he constructively helping others. Slowly, that changes, after some times she spent with him, she feels genuinely attracted by said trait she sworn to hate so much.

She liked him first. She fell hard, she never knew how her heart would yearn for his voice, his stern look, his mind which never stuck to the past. She hated him before, but that changes. He was never selfish in her eyes, the egotistical, rude, and overly confident facade was just how people tend to literally perceived him just as that, it's not what he truly is. She didn't learn the hard way, because that was how Veritas always is. Not many people have such a tender and kind goal as his. To cure and help people to be free from their own idiocy, to be able to stand up on their own legs, even without any helping hand.

It was pure admiration that lead her up to this point, you can say that she is a Ratio defender, she literally is lmao. She is the epitome of hsr fandom if media literacy isn't dead — someone who doesn't judge Ratio by his cover and shallowly decided that was his whole character. Lauster has her own ego, one of them is to be someone who knows Ratio oh-so-well. But that kinda killing her too.

It wasn't completely one-sided. They dated at some point. Ratio does like her company, but he does think that she doesn't fit the life of a scholar, she is destructive to herself, too much of a perfectionist to the point that she suffered from her own idealization. He liked how she was a romanticism, it was interesting to explore her psyche as a person — surely noticed that she wouldn't survive a day in harsh reality, she will break, she feels too much, she would crumble from the inside out. You can say it is a opposite attraction, he is grounded to reality, where she is drowned in emotion and her own dream.

There were a lot of good time between tge two. But it was a sad relationship, honestly. She never once feel jealous of her love one's success. She truly is happy for how Ratio is thriving on his path, she was elated to be in his arms, to be lived by him, to see him persue his dream (that isn't to join Genius Society). But what killing their relationship is how her being a self-destructive perfectionist. She tried hard to be good on her works too, but there were too many external factors that keep her from being well, she tried not to a burden to him.

They loved each other, but they weren't meant to be. That realization hits Lauster first, it destroyed her. But Ratio view it differently, which is why he tried to help her, to grow, to be able to stand on her own feet again.

Then, stuff happened– she disappeared one day from Intelligentsia Guild. With thing left unsaid to each other, Ratio is striving to find her across the galaxy again.

___________________________

With Aventurine, to be honest, there wasn't so much depth I've been thinking about, they were civil and nice with one another. But one thing that is interesting to be reckon is Lauster actually hates the IPC. Her life on her planet was rough because of them, she hates their reputation, as she grew, she learned enough to acknowledge that IPC as a whole is awful.

But she does know the fact that Aventurine was a slave before, he doesn't have the choice to be engage in their system. He too — was a victim of IPC, she was well aware. So at least, on the first encounter where she met him, she was acting indifferent and being civil. She wasn't harsh or mean, but also not overly nice nor sending pitied eyes. It was a normal amount of kindness as one human shall receive. This is where Aven start to like her as a friend.

The two came around each other and form a beautiful friendship eventually. You can say that she is the only one who doesn't care (and I mean, her gaf is on vacation when she is with Aven) about his antics, even enable him to a lot of length. She doesn't really want him to buy her stuffs as a friendship reward. I can say they were really close friends where they can trauma bonding to a degree lmao.

____________________

The last question is— to be honest, if she's still with Ratio at the time, she may wish him a safe trip only. Despite being someone who lives in the fantasy, she doesn't want to visit Penacony at all. While she was intrigued in the concept of it long time ago, she already mentally living in a dream every day, so she wasn't interested to physically be in one (not really but you get what I mean). Living in a dream was sweet, but she has been like that her whole life, she knew how tiresome it would be sometimes. (Yeah, she is neurodivergent.)

Anyway, thank you for reading such a long post! If you have question, feel free to slide into my ask box !

[mcytgirly]

Non talked about opinion, but ‘Cool About It’ by Boy Genius is so desert duo coded and I haven’t seen anyone talk about it. So please take part in me analyzing the lyrics of ‘Cool About It’ to show you why it’s desert duo.

Met you at the dive bar to go shoot some pool (Found each other always, even if unintentionally. Always there to play the games.)

And make fun of the cowboys (ie. ranchers??) with the neck tattoos (I like to think soulmate marks in double life were on their necks.)

Ask you easy questions about work and school (every single small talk they’ve had in the life series since 3rd life)

I'm trying to be cool about it (the two of them literally haven’t mentioned what happened in 3rd life since like double life. I know as actual people their lives didn’t change obviously, but as characters they did. They were completely changed because of that desert, and yet they’re expected to be ‘cool about it’)

Feelin' like an absolute fool about it (idiots in love?? Need I say more.)

Wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it (Scar has never once gotten mad at Grian for all the times he’s hurt him. Outside of double life Scar hasn’t even really confronted Grian about it. Yes, Scar said the “you stab a man in the back” and “it’s for your secret soulmate” but he’s never fully been mad at Grian.)

Tellin' myself I can always do without it (I like to think that yes, both Grian and Scar never left the desert. But Grian tried to and failed, just like him trying to convince himself that he doesn’t need Scar. Well Scar never left the desert out of choice, he always goes back to Grian.)

Knowin' that it probably isn't true (Neither of them can do this without each other. Just Grian still tries to get away and Scar hasn’t. They need each other.)

I came prepared for absolution, if you'd only ask (The entirety of third life was the two of them literally against the world. The two of them would go anywhere with each other if the other asked. Literally all of their deaths in double life was an adventure they went on either separately or together.)

So I take some offense when you say, "No regrets" (They both hurt each other, and made each other lose lives. Though Grian pushes away Scar because he doesn’t want to hurt Scar again. Well no matter what Grian does, Scar still goes back! Scar doesn’t regret any of it.)

I remember it's impossible to pass your test (The entirety of every scam Scar has committed. Grian has never fallen for one, it was always Scar who fell for Grians. For example, Scar giving Grian a life in last life, and the entirety of their cactus trade in secret life.)

But I'm trying to forget about it (GRIAN WANTS TO FORGET, SCAR DOESN’T. NEITHER OF THEM EVER DO)

Feelin' like I'm breaking a sweat about it (“Scar put your clothes back on!”)

Wishin' you would kindly get out of my head about it (Grian being the one to tell Scar, “She’s dead Scar. You won.” in Secret life. And the entirety of “the voices want a fight” in third life)

Tellin' myself one day I'll forget about it (Once you win all the tiny details come back, but during the games you remember everything. So Scar remembers third life in last life but not on Hermitcraft. So every single season Grian always hopes he’ll come back and he’ll have forgotten what happened, he’s stuck having every single detail swallow him whole. He wishes he could use his hands again without seeing blood on them. But forgetting meant forgetting those lilacs and poppies, and Grian couldn’t live in a universe where he didn’t remember what those flowers smell like. Scar wishes he could remember everything yearns to never have to forget again, until he then wins secret life and realizes winning is to much to carry. Not when the memories haunt him everywhere and everyday for the rest of his life. He yearns to wake up one morning and forget everything, to never feel that loneliness again, but that would mean forgetting the desert, Scar can’t live in a universe where he doesn’t miss the feeling of sand underneath fingernails.)

Knowin' that it probably isn't true (Though contrary to the prior statement, both of their biggest fears is the other forgetting everything)

Once, I took your medication to know what it's like (After Scar won Scar was able to understand why Grian was so avoidant and never spoke about the life series outside of the games)

And now I have to act like I can't read your mind. I ask you how you're doing and I let you lie (Never apologized outside of 3rd life. They just don’t bring it up, they lie. Just like when Grian asked Scar if he wanted to be friends and Scar HAD to say no because he had to LIE)

But we don't have to talk about it (They never actually talked about what happened outside of the games!! They’ve never fully brought up 3rd life since the beginning of last life. They were never going to talk about it. )

I can walk you home and practice method acting (The both of them act like it doesn’t matter, but it does. It does matter. It eats them alive. It’s what brings them back to each other in every life, is every game, in every universe. They’re just ACTING)

I'll pretend being with you doesn't feel like drowning (Whenever they’re around each other they just have the memories of everything before this. They would forever be trapped by the memories of every moment they’ve ever been together. They will always go back. They will always feel like they’re drowning.)

Tellin' you it's nice to see how good you're doing. Even though we know it isn't true (They just want life to go back to how it was before. They’re just idiots in love. They just want to be a part of each others lives. They hate each other, they love each other more than anything. They want to be a part of each others days, yet they’re going to betray each other in ever lifetime. They’re going to avoid each other for the rest of their existence, they’re going to find each other again in EVERY SINGLE LIFETIME.)

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

[munacy]

Anticipation

@wolfstarmicrofic

A continuation for @stars-a-n-d-scars Part 1 (ignorance) Part 2 (duck)

There is no way this plan can go wrong. It was concocted by the ingenious James F. Potter himself, and James F. Potter does not fail, as a general rule.

"All we have to do, Wormy, is come up with a list of things that gay blokes like, and see if Remus likes those things too!"

Peter's eyes become as round as Galleons. "That's genius, Prongs!"

James is aware.

"Okay, so what goes on the list then?" Peter asks eagerly.

Well, alright, he's not thought that far.

"Hell, I dunno, Peter. How did we know with Sirius?"

"You mean besides the fact that he follows Remus around like a...well, like a puppy dog?"

"No, you're right, Sirius was too easy," James agrees grimly. Then he sighs. "Well, s'not like I'm some authority on queer culture; I've never fancied a bloke before!"

"...Not once?" Peter says slyly.

James tenses.

"...And just what are you implying?"

"That I know that you've given Regulus Black's bare arse a good peek in the lockers--"

"I WAS NOT CHECKING HIM OUT, YOU CRETIN! I WAS TRYING TO SEE IF HE HAS THE SAME BIRTHMARK AS SIRIUS!!--"

"--Okay, not helping your case even a little--"

"--AND I TOLD YOU THAT IN CONFIDENCE, YOU BASTARD!!"

-----------------

The following morning, they decide to wing it. Winging things has worked out well for them in the past, and the timing could not be better, as Madame Pomfrey has decided to keep Sirius in the Hospital Wing until she rules out a few magical maladies (although, not once has she let James skive off after being lovesick over Lily, which is a genuine illness). It's not often that they can get Remus alone without Sirius attached like a limpet.

"Watch this," Peter hisses, holding a peach in one hand and a banana in the other. "Gay blokes love bananas."

"By Merlin, Peter, I'm beginning to suspect there's a genius hidden under all of that blue-eyed naivety."

Peter makes a pleased expression before turning to Remus at the breakfast table. "Oi, Moony, I've grabbed two fruit, one for you, one for me. Which one would you like?"

Remus barely looks up from his book before selecting the banana with a muttered "thanks".

James and Peter share a look of unbridled glee, then turn to stare at Remus as he chomps away at the benign yellow fruit. His amber eyes finally drift up to meet their combined intense gaze, and he swallows, looking uncomfortable.

"Are you two alright?...You're sort of being… really weird, right now."

James breathes out a bit shakily. "You really like bananas, don't you, Moony," he says unblinkingly.

"Erm...No, not really. Actually hate 'em,” Remus scowls, clearly disturbed by their laser-focused attention.

"What!? Why did you pick it over the peach, then, why?!" cries Peter melodramatically and clawing the air with his hands.

"Because!" Remus yells back, brows furrowing with increasing bewilderment, "Pomfrey wants me to try to get more potassium in! Says it might help with the cramps around the full!"

He looks between James' and Peter's inexplicably devastated expressions, and scoffs, picking up his tray and leaving to go sit with Lily Evans and Mary Macdonald.

"Fuck," James moans.

-----------------

"Okay, okay, this is a sure thing," James mutters at rapid-fire. "Gay blokes love ABBA."

"Brilliant," Peter nods, face open and trusting.

"Quick! I hear him coming!"

As Remus enters the dormitory to exchange his Arithmancy book for Ancient Runes, his eardrums are viciously assaulted with the bouncy strains of "Dancing Queen", blasting from their record player with enough magically-enhanced volume to rattle the window pane.

OOH, YOU CAN DANCE!

"WHAT THE FUCK, GUYS!"

YOU CAN JIVE!

"ISN'T IT WONDERFUL!" screams James.

HAVING THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE!

"IT MAKES ME FEEL MY DEEP INSIDE FEELINGS ON THE OUTSIDE!" howls Peter.

OOOH, SEE THAT GIRL--

Remus casts a wordless spell that goes off with a bang, bringing the record player to a tenth of the volume.

"I fucking hate disco," he growls, storming out of the dorm and slamming the door on his way out.

Peter sighs. "Prongs, maybe he just isn't bent? Wouldn't that be such a shame for poor old--"

"PETE! P-Pete, mate, your foot!"

Peter looks down at his traitorous foot, tapping along—completely of its own accord—to ABBA. "Fuck!" he wails. "It's too catchy!"

-----------------

They have one last idea, but neither of them is enthusiastic about it.

"It's got to be you, Prongs," Peter whimpers panickily, "I haven't got the pectorals!"

And Peter, unfortunately, has never been so right.

But what if Remus falls in love with me instead? He's bound to! Doesn't that defeat the entire purpose? Poor Padfoot, he'd be so devastated.

"Don't think about the ramifications just now," Peter interrupts his internal monologue, snapping his fingers in front of his friend's gold-rimmed spectacles. "We've got no choice, Jamie. At this point, it's embarrassing we haven't been able to figure out this very basic thing about our best mate."

James nods reluctantly.

Into the breach.

That late afternoon finds James, alone in the dorm, exiting a gratuitously steamy shower once he hears that snick of the dormitory door shutting, signaling that Remus has returned from Charms Club.

Took the wanker long enough, I'm all pruney now.

"Oh, Reeemuuus!" James calls in a purr, very loosely wrapping a towel around his hips. "Could you come here a second?"

The door opens tentatively.

"Christ, Prongs, it's like a rainforest in here. How long did you shower for?" Remus accuses, his unruly tawny curls already protesting against the humidity. "And why are you showering in the middle of the day?"

James waits until Remus finally makes eye contact with him to take a few slow, deliberate steps closer, looking up at Remus (damn, but the boy just keeps shooting up) from under his dark lashes.

"And...when do you like to take long showers, Remus?" he murmurs.

"Eh? I dunno, sometimes I like to take a hot bath or two after the full." Remus' brows furrow in concern. "You feeling alright, Prongs? Maybe you've got whatever Padfoot has. Where is Padfoot, anyway?"

James steps ever closer. He could touch Remus. He's about to touch Remus. HIs mouth goes oddly dry with anticipation.

"Don't worry about Sirius. Worry about me for a second," he whispers.

Remus' intense golden eyes finally break their gaze as they subtly flick up and down James' body.

"Oh, is that why you called me in here?"

Gotcha, you lovely, queer bastard.

"Why, yes, Remus, I'm dying for you to--"

An exasperated sigh and eyeroll interrupt what would have been a surefire seduction.

"As I've told you nigh on a hundred times, Prongs, wizards don't get skin cancer. That mole on your lower back looks perfectly normal, as I've already said, and I'm not going to look at it again!"

James can only gape at Remus.

He tuts. "I don't have time for this; you're literally fine. I'm going to see if Pads is still in the Hospital Wing."

Remus exits in a whirl, leaving James reeling in the bathroom--wet, humiliated, and, if he's being completely honest with himself, just the tiniest bit aroused.

-----------------

"James! James!" Peter bursts into the dormitory with Sirius in tow, moments after James has gotten clothes back on. "Padfoot's out of the Hospital Wing and I've informed him of our mission!"

"Right, mate," Sirius follows breathlessly. "You lot are trying to figure out if Moony's gay, then?"

James moans and put his head in his hands. He feels this close to unraveling. "We've been trying to figure it out all day!"

"Really?? What have you tried?" prompts Sirius eagerly.

"POTASSIUM!" shouts James incoherently.

"Erm--"

"Disco, too, louder than eruption of Krakatoa," interjects Peter mournfully.

"Great--" James suppresses a sob--"Great, rock hard pectorals. Prize-winning pectorals. Boy's unflappable. I have no idea."

Sirius purses his lips, clearly between seeking clarification on the gibberish they've spouted and slapping them both silly. Fortunately for all involved parties, he does neither.

"Lads. Here's an idea. Why don't we just ask him?"

-----------------

Thanks to those of you that have stuck around! <3

Part 4: Thirst

[osamucide]

(joe gets kicked out of school for using) drugs with friends (but says this isn't a problem)

last friday, i took acid and mushrooms

i did not transcend

i felt like a walking piece of shit

in a stupid looking jacket

NSFW CONTENT - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

wc: 2.4k

cw: gn!reader - no explicit anatomy mentioned, post-dark era, pre-entrance exam, port mafia!reader, past relationships/implied relationships, dazai-typical suicide mentions, manwhore dazai, explicit sexual content, drugs, references to drugs, drug use, talking and doing drugs, dazai is on drugs, dazai has tried every drug under the sun, just so many fucking drugs. don't do drugs please!

reid: installment 2/? of me using car seat headrest songs alongside dazai fic. ooc dazai probably but i like breaking him not sorry. this is not intended to romanticize substance abuse. addict dazai is a concept very close to my heart this is wholeheartedly me venting also all my fanfic is just so self indulgent. please for the love of god do not do drugs just send them to me thanks. can be read as a stand-alone or a part two to my previous fic drunk drivers/killer whales. you can find me on ao3 @angelzai. enjoy

. . . .ᐟ

“What have you been doing? Since you…”

Left. You falter but Osamu Dazai knows that’s what you mean to say. Since you left. That wouldn't have taken a fucking genius, though.

Well, he thinks, he could be totally honest right now. There's no one to hide from anymore, just himself. The fact that you're sitting with him has some old walls going up - the rather generic ones that go up with everyone - and he's hoping you won't take it personally if he does decide to lie. It would just be easy to. Familiar to.

He turns your voice over in his mind, imagines himself weighing it in his palms, and while the question hangs in the air suddenly he's in bed again with the wench of the week about a month or four back - one he bummed a cigarette off at some club during a routine bender and struck up a conversation with about the conceptualization of incomprehensible units of measurement, like lightyears. Dazai remembers that she took him home and let him snort ecstasy off the small of her back before he made out with her for what felt like six hours. She'd obviously wanted to fuck but he was still thinking, albeit warmly now, about lightyears and space and how awesome it would be to scale the side of a faraway terrestrial planet like an ibex - those cool mountain goats - and look off into a volume of nothing to observe the dilation of time with his tiny, filthy Earth eyes. Yeah, he wasn't getting any of that acute empathy he seemed to gain for other human beings when he was on E, so he asked for more. Her skin had felt like a flannel bed sheet and it almost hurt when she pulled away. He licked this dose off her tongue, per her discretion. It would've been hot if he hadn't imagined what it might feel like to lick a flannel sheet and almost gagged into her mouth. He said, "Sorry, I thought about if your tongue was a flannel sheet." She giggled and he giggled back. He kissed her more. She was so warm. He still couldn't get hard. He just kept thinking. He thought so much about lightyears and flannel sheets until he could barely discern the difference between them. He would've liked to have been wrapped up in either. The last time he had felt this introspective was when he was peaking on nitrous, but it was obvious he was still coming up. He started feeling sweaty and cold. He told himself that wasn't abnormal for ecstasy. He was trying to imagine she was a flannel bed sheet. He was sweating so bad. She was a flannel bed sheet and he was a lightyear and his skin was starting to feel like it was rising off his skeleton. He felt like he'd pissed his pants. He'd pushed her off and bolted for the bathroom. The fan in there was too loud. The manicured hand combing his hair back was burning his scalp. The toilet was kind of grimacing at him all smug-like. He didn't know what a lightyear was. He knew this was bad E. He vomited for an hour straight and meditated briefly on how horribly unsexy he felt before passing out. He woke up with an icepick headache and bummed another cigarette and apologized for pissing his pants on her bed (which he didn't actually do, but this was only clarified after he expressed he thought he had). He insisted that it wasn't her, she was beautiful, she was great, it was just the drugs, it was his own fault, but he still didn't give her his number. He just took the train as close as it went to his apartment, smelling like the very unsexy kind of sweat. Instead of showering, he had popped a Xan and went to bed. It was 3pm. And that was more or less what he had been doing since he left the Port Mafia.

While he recalls this, he makes some vague hand motions and opens his mouth a few times, not unlike a fish, as if he's about to speak but doesn't quite have the words yet. It's not that he doesn't want to tell you. You've been around long enough to have seen him and others high out of their minds plenty of times before. He knows you'd barely blame him for the wretched financial hole he has himself in now that Mori isn't around to sugar-daddy all his substances for him. It isn't remotely about the drugs.

It's about the fact that you found him in a bar in Numazu by total chance and paid his weeks-long tab before even asking him any questions about where he's been. He's not sure why you did that.

It's about the fact that you paid for the hotel room he's sitting cross-legged on the bed in, in front of you. He's considering how deep the crescents beneath your eyes look.

It's about the fact that you kissed him once when you both were sixteen and it convinced him that he'd never kiss anyone else ever again. But then he left, and in the year and a half since he's last seen you he's had more meaningless sex with more meaningless people than there were freckles across your whole body, which had, by the way, meant everything to him at one point.

"Not really..." Dazai shakes his head. "Anything at all."

You light a cigarette even though it's a non-smoking room. You'll be able to foot the bill.

"Come on," you say out of the corner of your mouth, puffing smoke in his face. "Not really anything at all?"

He doesn't ask, just takes the smoke from your lips to put it between his own. "Drugs," he summarizes truthfully. "Mostly coke. There's nothing like it. I swear it's better than H."

You quirk your mouth in semi-disapproval, taking back your cigarette. "You did always like your blow."

"Been exploring academia too, I suppose. I'm learning calculus right now." He's trying to make up for it. He doesn't need to.

Now you really look at him like he's on drugs. "For fun?" He nods, pleased with himself. "I thought you didn't like pain." You finally smile a little bit.

"It's interesting!" he insists with his signature drama. "God, can I just have my own?" He's gesturing to your pack, and you indulge him, lighting it off your own.

You look like you want to say something else, sucking your cigarette down like it's a race. Dazai studies you. Prompts you with nothing but his eyes, just like he always has, and you understand. It's your turn to look for the words.

"I mean... like... what- what," you make the vague hand motions too, "what are you doing, though? How- how are you... not..."

"Dead?" he finishes. "Yeah. I struck a cute little deal with the government."

He doesn't like how you lean back from him, even if it's slight, even if he expects it. He doesn't like how your eyes narrow and you look at him with something he can only place as distrust. You almost want to get up off the bed, but you stay, gazing into him. You're not flustered so easily by him anymore, and he has to notice. He does. And regardless, he knows exactly what you're thinking before you say it. "I didn't take you for a fed, Dazai." He knows about the gun in your jacket, too, and that you're at attention now. Your use of his last name stings.

"I didn't sell you out," he says, mocking offense, pushing himself up on those gangly limbs to cut a line of whatever's in the little plastic bag he pulls from his back pocket. "I didn't sell anyone out. Ango's a double agent. You have to know." You shrug - you'd be ashamed to admit you hadn't a clue - and your apprehension melts, but only a little. "My record's expunged as long as I clean up and sign on at the ADA in about six months."

You look at him incredulously, but he's busy at the desk. He could've left it at calculus.

"And this is your idea of cleaning up?" you ask.

The response you receieve is a long sniff. Dazai straightens out, huffs, pulls another drag off his cigarette.

If you were anyone else it would definitely be unwise of him to give such information to someone very much still on the inside. As high up as you had been alongside Dazai, knowledge of who had their fingers in what organizations was never for you to have. Your rank has only fallen since he left. You've developed a nose for people - you must after so long in the mafia - and Ango, who lays so low, especially after Sakunosuke's death, isn’t exactly at the top of your list until right now. You briefly wonder how much the boss knows. Mori surely would've killed Ango for orchestrating the freeing of his most precious pet. Mori surely has people after Dazai. As a matter of fact, he might have people after you already, not even an hour after you found the former prince of the underworld slumped over on a bar stool, because you never really know who’s watching. At the end of all that, though, your thoughts snag on whether that's something Ango could help anyone with, or if it was only for Dazai. No snitching would be involved. You don't think you're qualified to be a detective, but certainly there's some community service you could do to mop up after yourself, right?

Dazai seats himself in front of you again. The rest of this conversation does not happen verbally - not right away, at least. Whether it’s the coke or the accusatory tone your voice carried, he looks a little emptier than before. He looks an entire world away from you. You don’t say this aloud but he nods numbly like he hears you. You dimly recall a conversation you had with him years ago in which he told you he’d never done anything in his life that made him proud. That he didn’t really view himself as a person, but rather a machine designed toward destruction. Machines didn’t feel proud - didn’t feel anything, and no more or less when they executed their intended function.

You’re struck with the awareness that you still seem to know him so vividly, despite how much he’s obviously changed. The parts of this machine are shinier as if they’ve been cleaned. Although it grows old, it works like new, given its context. You recognize exactly what it’s doing. What he’s doing. And you think, maybe if you just throw your hand into the gears - even if it hurts you, even if it takes a piece of you off and mangles it - maybe you can get it to stop.

He, too, selfishly considers that you could be his way out. But is it really selfish if he can admit he'd drop it all if you asked him to? Flesh thrown against a monstrous man-made creation. Even though you seem to have stayed so very much the same, he doesn’t assume he knows you like he once did. But these could be the right circumstances. Maybe he just needs some flesh. Just needs somebody.

“You just need somebody.” Your head’s on the pillow, you twirl his hair, and that’s what you say to him after you both fuck like two virgins. You don’t mean to imply that somebody could be yourself, but for what it’s worth, that’s how he takes it. He can’t remember the last time sex made him cry, anyway, so it might as well be you.

“Just fucking leave.”

Your eyes snap open as the words leave him. Leave? Leave the room you paid for? That was rich, considering the kindness you’ve extended to him tonight after he abandoned you. Your throat constricts around the fact that not even ten minutes ago you were entangled with him in a way that felt both familiar and new. You would’ve proposed another round and let him clasp his hands around your neck like he used to. He’d always insist you’d beg him to stop one day, but you never did. Ten minutes ago you were ready to wipe away his bloody nose with your hair if he asked. Now he’s asking you to leave.

You sit up and throw your legs over the edge of the bed. Your eyes burn with tears and you’re about to get up, get dressed, maybe unload the remainder of the clip in your gun into his kneecaps - but he grabs your elbow.

“Leave the Port, idiot.” You look at him. Concern isn’t an emotion that graces Dazai’s features too often, and here it is. “That came out horribly. Plus, you’re so nice and warm. Get back here.”

So you do. You do what you do best when it comes to Dazai - you crawl back, disregarding how he’s hurt you. Hurt himself. And you just cry.

You cry because you’re so relieved you just misinterpreted him. You cry because he gives you whiplash so goddamn easily. You cry because you don’t have to give leaving a second thought. You cry because a year and a half ago he obviously wouldn’t have insisted you follow him. You cry because he’s so out of character and you almost think you like it. You cry because you like how warm he feels, too. You cry because he’s on drugs. He doesn’t cry because he already did while you made him cum, and now his pupils aren’t so blown, but with you against his chest he doesn’t feel like he needs to get up to do another bump, and that’s plenty for both of you. For all intents and purposes, the walls are all down now. Maybe he really needed to find you. You know you really needed to find him. It’s going to be difficult and dangerous and there’s more to be said, but at least you’ve found him.

You’re sniveling. He’s kissing your hair. “You can teach me calculus.”

Dazai recognizes the laugh that rumbles in his chest as one he hasn’t felt since he’d last seen you. “We’ll get ahold of Ango in the morning.”

[stanley-the-sniper]

Hello friend! I hope you do x reader stuff so if not you don’t have to bother lol. Can I have a headcanon where Ryusui has a “commoner” girlfriend. Like she’s not poor but she’s definitely not rich like Ryusui. Thank you! I hope your blog does well!

Nanami Ryusui with a "commoner" s/o!

Woow just seen this and already worked on it!! thank you so much!! hope it grasp at least the idea of what you asked for and sorry in advance if there is some inconsistency in the phrasing QwQ

He's thankful with his brother, why tho?

Welp as both web users and into the "geek" culture you meet the older Nanami first

I know this is a Ryusui headcanon, but bare with me a little

Befriending Sai was relatively easy, long chats about videogames and other hyperfixation went smoothly, and in no time both dared to call each other online friends.

By your interactions with Sai you learned some things about him and his life

First, he is part of the Nanami conglomerate, that explains the flamboyant ways of his brother, and all the things both make(that's the other thing too!)

Sai has a younger brother and sometimes he's being dragged by the latest, here and there

Sai isn't forced tho, and by now you guess is just his brothers ways to make some kind of brotherhood or sibling bonding

And then all the planets lined up and in one of those tremendous projects your presence was there for Ryusui to catch on

Now, he really is ambitious and cool

"I desire you"

You may not be a super genius like his brother, but you're his friend and also comfortable to be with

At first his direct speech and chivalrous touch made you a little fussy

Usually people don't express like that, with such honesty, real honesty, specially with the darling treatment

And he is serious about it

He knows, he has the upper hand when talking about wealthiness, and he squeeze that to get to know you better

It started as a hang out with your friend and his brother (Ryusui dragging you both to his desires)

Then it was just Ryusui taking you out to dates places where both can have fun and spend cool time together

He never cared about if you were a "commoner" as you said about yourself, for him that doesn't change the fact that yourself now, is what he wants

He just take that as a opportunity to show you the world

For real, he is ready to swarm you in endless of experiences and feelings that he may provide you

In the end, that's his love language, gift giving but in his flashy way

And if you are a little overwhelm, he to willing slow down for you

He's respectful with that, you can speak out your boundrings if something is really to much for you

What do you mean with taking you to dinner at the Eiffel tower and a stroll in Venice is too much for a date hang out?

Its okay then, we can go to a much calmer place like Fiji

By this point you both are an item, at first was him the one whom start up with the flirting, but you gain enough confidence (and obviously some liking) to fire back with the flirt

You may thought that the way he'll make it official would be in a Ryusui way, but no, he thought about it, but then, there isn't anything grand enough to express how much you mean for him

So he is casual and smooth

In a normal (by this point the places he took you became kind of normal) date (yes a official one) declares to you (more like proposing)

You swear this is the first time seeing him not so confident

[studyinglogic]

— ...there was a time when writing was my joy, when I wrote for fun. But after what's happened, there's been a vague sense of guilt about it. I can write, but each time I try to I feel like I don't deserve to.

— Well, I mean leans back in his chair you know that's not true, right.

— Yes, yes. It's a stumbling block.

— Maybe what's tough is getting started. You used to have that online blog, didn't you? How many drafts do you have on there?

— Oh, I don't know. A lot. Let me check. [beat] Six thousand seven hundred and forty.

— Good God. What's stopping you?

(Option A. — I fear society. You know, judgment on my work.

— If you can't be weird on your own blog, where can you be? Look, maybe ... [C])

(Option B. — Alan Watts titled his autobiography "In My Own Way." I quite like that title, because it has a double meaning. He's doing things in his own way, of course, but he's also getting in his own way. And it implies that the two are linked. That his faults and imperfections are linked to what makes him unique.

— Even if everyone was self-actualised, I'm sure that there'd be a wide variety of people. But let's stick to the topic; what was the point of bringing up Watts?

— Oh, you know. I'm getting in my own way, in my own way. And there's a meta-point here. I have so much, and it's just hard to get a handle on all of it.

— Look, maybe ... [C])

[C, see, si, sea, the third synthesis, cf. Kant's footnote]

— Look, maybe you need to find the joy of writing in a low-stakes environment. Something that doesn't pressure you too much. Your online blog is low-stakes enough, I think. You have six thousand seven hundred and forty drafts. Let's say ninety percent of that is crap. That's still enough to last you more than a year if you post once a day. Just post for joy. If you like it. Get used to doing things which you enjoy. Take yes for an answer. Easy easy. No need to make the posts serious or high-pressure, even in your own head. Post things even if they're not great. Start by being imperfect. End by being imperfect.

— That's the spirit. Genius arrests decay. You've been writing yourself, haven't you?

— Here and there. That's all we can do, isn't it. Write ourselves into our work?

— Heh sincere laughter for a good ten seconds good one, but you know what's not what I meant. What have you been writing?

— Oh, fables.

— Excellent. What type of fables? Kafka or Aesop?

— Closer to Kafka than Aesop. That reminds me, you know those videos, what are they called, the ones where people ask, would you love me if I was a worm. Does anyone reference Kafka's "Metamorphosis" there?

— I don't know. I don't watch them. I'm amazed you even know about them. I didn't know about them. Anyway, who have you been reading lately?

— Cormac McCarthy. That's how I got the idea of writing fables. Fables are simple; they show the world "as it is." An illusion, or perhaps just a part, of course, but they're compelling in that way. And I know McCarthy's work isn't usually thought of as a fable, but in fables there's often lots of senseless violence skated over. And perhaps if you see some of his work as dreamlike...

[long pause]

— Continue?

— Sorry, I don't know what I'm saying. But I guess that's how it is. One day I'll get there.

— One day I'll get there.

[vilandel]

Hiya Vilandel! For the ask game; may I ask for 3, 7, and 8 for Eis please 🥰?

Oh, Solids and Rosettes son! Thank you so much for this, Lyra, he is happy to answer your questions 🥰

What is your favorite childhood memory? The first time I was on my ice-skates. It's a bit blurry, since I was only four, but I do remember quite a lot. I was nervous and I admit, pretty scared despite having ice magic. Ironic, isn't it. I was so tiny and I couldn't understand yet how I could be able to stand onto such tiny surfaces. Dad was with me. He was the one who helped me, who taught me the first steps. The first time, he hold my hands, explained to me that I shouldn't be an expert from the start, even though I'm royalty. I felt very secure with him. He also insulted some nobles that were there that day. I don't if the just watched, if they said something, if it was mean or not. But it certainly pissed my father off, as he told them he would sent a platoon of sea serpents at them if they would do say anything. It was funny, but it also made me happy, as it showed me that Dad has my back. Having Dad with me that day motivated me to continue with iceskating. Today, it is actually a father-son activity we love to share.

Who do you look up to? Oh. that's a difficult question. I have a lot of people I look up to. My parents, because I love them and I'm biased, my uncles Nozel and Asta, others... But if I have to choose, I think I look up to my best friend and cousin Loreleï a lot. I admire that despite her immense mana pool that matches her mother, aunt Noelle, she still decided that she wouldn't become a Magic Knight, like it was kinda expected with the immense mana she had, but doing what she loves and becoming a novelist. Society became more flexible with uncle Asta as Wizard King, but it wasn't just openminded just like that. Especially with stubborn nobles. Being a Magic Knight is considered one of the coolest things to be and a royal who neither just goes to noble circles, goes into politic with the parliament nor becomes a Magic Knight is sadly not something you see every day. Especially when you have parents and brothers who are all warriors. But Loreleï preferred to write books and she is a genius with the feather. It wasn't easy, but she fought through it. Of course, our family had her back, but I still admire her a lot for that.

What do you think had the biggest impact on you growing up? My family. My parents first, that is for sure. My uncles and aunts as well, be it the Silva families or the Black Bulls. Also our Vermillion relatives. And even though she doesn't live anymore, my grandmother too through the stories me, my sister and my cousins were told about. But I think my parents had the biggest impact. Mum and Dad always supported me, guided me, helped me in every way possible. I'm so grateful to have them. I know that their marriage was arranged and that Dad was a jerk in his youth (he is still a bit today), but I couldn't wish for any better parents than them.