#bro why you trespassing like that

[attzntionofmars]

closed starter. @pepajxmillo​

ronan has come to a halt at the top of his stairway, he stares at the person casually lounging atop his couch, “ ... you know, when i say you’re welcome in my house anytime you want, i don’t actually mean that. no matter how close we are and especially when i am out of promises. ” he continued on his way, dropping a bag atop the table as he sighed, “ what brings you to my humble home? ”

#pedro pablo jaramillo. #* 꽃 . 𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒏 ›› interactions . #w. pepa. #SKDCBCJDFBVJFVB HOMIE REALLY GREETED BESTIE W THE #bro why you trespassing like that

[sunsoak]

I’m already experiencing the classic nonprofit conundrum of loving my job but HATING the bureaucratic, out-of-touch but thinks they’re so smart administration

#when administration comes in on Monday morning and is literally ANGRILY SNAPPING at the kids to get out of bed by 7:45 #because It’s Policy that they need to be Out Of The Dorms By 7:45 #THEYRE HOMELESS TEENAGERS BRO #LET THEM FUCKING SLEEP AS LONG AS THEY POSSIBLY CAN #they have to get up early EVERY SINGLE DAY #and then they yell at them for sleeping during the day because ITS POLICY to not sleep in the day program #WHO FUCKING CARES!!!!! TEENAGERS NEED SLEEP MORE THAN ANY OF US DO!!!!! #YOU get to sleep in at least two days of the week #THEY have to be out of here by 8 am every single day. how is that fair? really how is that fair?? #it’s not preparing them for the Real World because guess what in the real world you actually can sleep in sometimes #and then have the gall to be like well I was homeless once or I’ve been thru this kind of thing and I did this and that so why can’t they #like Jesus Christ. you preach empathy and understanding and support but it’s literally all talk #in the real world you can take a nap on your couch and no one is going to yell at you #one time they literally CALLED THE COPS on a kid who slept past 8 because it’s ‘trespassing’ to be in the shelter past 8 #like holy shit there is nothing more fucking RIDICULOUS than that. I have made my judgment and I’m sticking to it y’all are evil

[catslvrr]

heaven sent — ??. alternate ending

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Three months into your second year of university and you were still questioning whether or not you should continue doing law.

“If I don’t finish my take-home exam of that imaginary guy and his crazy legal scenario, I might shrivel up and die,” you groaned.

You opened one eye to see Cherry blankly staring at you.

“I know, Cherry,” you sighed, closing your eyes again. “It’s my fault for procrastinating.”

You sat there, on the couch, debating whether or not you should drop out, when a knock on the door interrupted your thoughts.

You paused.

“Bro, are you expecting anyone?” You called out to Minji as you made your way toward the door.

No response. She’s probably taking a nap. You half opened the door to see a very pretty girl.

“Wrong room,” you said, moving to close the door. 

You made the mistake of letting your gaze linger on her a second too long, strangely drawn to her. The pretty stranger used this opportunity to stick her feet in between to stop you.

“I think I’m in the right room, actually,” she smiled, forcing the door open to enter the apartment.

What the fuck.

“I don’t know you.”

She chose to ignore you, gasping when she saw Cherry licking herself on the couch. She speedwalked over and sat down next to Cherry, starting to pet her.

You frowned as Cherry purred in satisfaction and nestled herself on the stranger’s lap. What. Cherry never likes strangers.

“You remembered,” she said, slightly breathy, and to your surprise, her eyes began to glisten with tears.

“Um…”

You glanced at Minji's room and wondered if you should call for backup.

“What’s its name?” There was a pang in your heart as your eyes met, and you struggled to understand why. She felt familiar, despite being a complete stranger who barged into your apartment.

“Cherry,” you answered hesitantly, still standing at the door awkwardly. “Who are you?”

“Cherry,” she repeated with a mutter. She then laughed to herself. You thought that maybe this stranger was a bit insane. “Just like Jerry.”

A few tears rolled down her face, and you had never been so puzzled in your life. She was still smiling despite the tears.

That smile was so disarming, and maybe if she wasn’t a delusional trespasser, you would find yourself falling for her.

“Who are you?” You asked again, a hint of frustration in your voice. You didn’t even know why you were entertaining this weird girl and her weird questions.

She seemed unfazed by your hostile tone, though, only tilting her head as she studied you. You hated how she made your voice shake.

“Still so mean to strangers,” she tsked with a teasing lilt.

“If you don’t answer my question,” you scowled, folding your arms. “I'm gonna call security.”

“Okay, okay,” she raised her arms in surrender. “One last question, though. Is that okay?”

You squinted, trying to figure out what she was thinking. Her cheeriness was alarmingly persuasive.

“Fine,” you huffed after a few seconds. “What?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

You coughed out of shock. “What?”

You could feel your face heating up, much to your embarrassment, and you averted your gaze to try and collect your composure.

“So what if I do?”

“Ah,” she said, her smile a little more sad now. She was staring at you intently. “So you do.”

“I didn’t say that,” you cleared your throat. “I don’t. Have a girlfriend, I mean.”

You weren’t usually the type to be so open and honest to complete strangers, but something about her made you want to be.

“You don’t?”

She was grinning brightly again and stood up after setting Cherry down gently, moving closer to you. Every step she took, you took a step back, until you were literally outside your apartment and she was standing in the doorway.

“How the tables have turned,” she giggled. “Now I'm the one in the doorway.”

You still had no idea what she was going on about. But you had to admit, this feeling of deja vu was hard to ignore. As if the two of you had stood in this exact spot many times before.

I got kicked out of my apartment by this pretty stranger. Minji, that useless rat, is too busy sleeping to save me. And Cherry suddenly loves strangers.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” she said softly, taking another step toward you. “Just trust me, okay?”

Before you could speak, she continued. “And yes, I know, I’m a complete stranger. But you’ll understand in a sec.”

You stood still, heart pounding, as she reached out to you, her fingers brushing against your hair. Her touch was delicate, oddly filled with love. Then, she let her palm rest against your forehead.

And in that moment, all of the memories came flooding back, along with a wave of emotions, emotions that you felt for her. You felt as though your heart could burst.

You stumbled forward from the sudden rush, holding onto the door frame to brace yourself, and your vision became blurry from the burning tears. She stood there patiently, biting her cheek as she held back from comforting you, giving you space.

She came back.

You roughly tugged her in for a hug, burrowing your face in her neck, refamiliarizing yourself with the smell of strawberries and vanilla.

“Danielle,” you whispered. “You came back.”

“Where else would I go?”

You clung onto her for a while, embracing the fact that she was here, in person, with you now. Everything felt so right again. You eventually and reluctantly pulled back.

“How?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “I mean, how did you come back? I didn’t make a wish. And how do I remember?”

“It’s a bit complicated,” Danielle scratched her nape. “Long story short, I gave up immortality and whatnot.”

“You did what?” You raised your voice, aghast. Her answer only raised more questions.

She waved her hand nonchalantly. “I’ll tell you the full story another day. I need to make Minji remember, too.”

You bit your lip. “Are you here to stay?”

She nodded, playing with your fingers. “I am.”

You were so overwhelmed, but the thought of Minji seeing evidence of you crying was mortifying. So you sucked your tears back in. God knows how long she would tease you for.

The two of you went back into the apartment and snuck into Minji’s room. She was half sprawled on her chair and her bed, mouth open as she snored peacefully.

“That can’t be good for her back,” you muttered. 

You shook her awake. Before she was fully conscious, Danielle touched her forehead with her palm. Minji slowly blinked her eyes with confusion, and you could imagine the gears turning her head as she started to remember as well.

“Oh my god,” Minji screamed, falling to the floor. She quickly scrambled to get back up, and practically jumped on Danielle. “You’re back!”

“I’m back,” Danielle laughed, somehow staying upright. “Permanently, this time.”

“That’s amazing,” Minji grinned. “Did you transfer universities, or something?”

“Uh,” Danielle glanced at you for help. You turned to look at Minji’s desk, suddenly finding it very interesting. “…I don’t know, I haven’t really figured that out yet.”

“That’s fine,” Minji patted her on the back. “You’re here, and that’s all that matters.”

She stretched, walking out to the living room. Both of you looked at each other with relief and followed Minji. “We have to celebrate! I’ll go shopping for dinner while you lovebirds reunite. And kiss, or whatever. Just keep it PG!”

Minji winked and left the apartment, slamming the door shut. You hated how she always had to get the last word. The two of you flopped on the couch on either side of Cherry, both petting her.

“You remembered to get the cat.”

“I can’t believe her name’s Cherry too,” you chuckled, repeating Danielle’s words from before. “Just like Jerry.”

Both of you sat there in silence, processing the fact that this was real and basking in each other’s company. You started the conversation after a while.

“It’s been three or four months, huh.”

Danielle didn’t reply, her eyes wandering on you. You could see the vulnerability in her gaze, and an inkling of fear as well, as if this could all disappear any second. Your heart ached at the thought of how much she had to go through in those months.

I love you, is what you wanted to say. You wanted to say it over and over again, for all the days you spent not remembering her, to say it until you physically couldn't anymore.

You felt a bit awkward though — it had been a while since you had bared your heart like you used to.

“Thank you for coming back. And being here to stay,” you said simply instead.

“Of course I would,” Danielle swallowed. “I missed you so much. More than you could know.”

You bit your lip. “I’m sorry I didn’t remember you. I really thought I could.”

What if she hadn't come back? I would spend the rest of my days forgetting everything. You didn't want to dwell on it for too long. She was here now, and that meant everything to you.

She reached over to squeeze your hand. “I didn’t expect you to, silly. But you have the rest of your life to make it up to me.”

“The rest of my life with you,” you leaned back with a small smile. “Doesn’t sound too bad.”

Your smile immediately fell. You could already imagine the next words out of her mouth.

“You are so cheesy,” Danielle cooed.

“I am not.”

“You totally are, end of discussion.”

Not giving you any time to defend yourself, she grabbed the TV remote. “Let’s watch Bolt!”

“…Fine.”

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#newjeans x reader #newjeans fanfic #newjeans fic #danielle marsh x reader #mo jihye x reader

[catindabag]

TBOSAS on Crack short take (49)

*When the Mentors lied about their Tributes’ skills on LIVE TV*

Lepidus: Welcome back to the ✨Table Talk✨! I’m your host, Lepidus Malmsey-

Casca: Booooo!

Lepidus: Ugh. Who let Highbottom sit with the audience again?

Felix: Just ignore him.

Lepidus: And why does your school want me to do another round of interviews?

Vipsania: To gain more sponsors-

Gaius: For money.

Hilarius: We love money.

Coryo: I need money.

Sejanus: To proclaim my undying love to my Coryo-

Coryo: Not now, Babe.

Sejanus: But-

Coryo: I’ll give you a kiss if you shut up.

Sejanus: Can you kiss me now-

Casca: Booooo! Get a room-

Felix: Back to you, Malmsey!

Lepidus: Um- okay. So here we are again with our favorite Mentors-

Festus: Yo, Leppy! Leppy, why do I have to wear this stupid paper bag?

Lepidus: It’s Lepidus.😑 And your Class President was the one who asked me to cover your face.

Festus: Why?!😫

Felix: Creed, just wear the bag.

Coryo: That’s what you get after you forced us to bail you out from juvenile jail, Bestie~.😊

Festus: I did nothing wrong-

Coryo: You trespassed and dumpster dived on private property.

Festus: I did not!

Felix: The President of Panem would disagree.

Festus: But I’m not even a fugitive!

Lysistrata: Not yet~.☺️

Festus: But-

Felix: Lepidus, please continue.

Lepidus: So my first question is for-

Livia: Just spit it out, Leppy. We don’t have all day.🙄

Juno: Yeah~. I even have an important appointment with my chiropractor after this.

Lepidus: Fine.😞 What are your Tribute’s strengths and weaknesses?

Livia: Excuse me?! Weaknesses?! That’s incorrect. My new bestie from ✨District One✨ doesn’t have weaknesses.🙄💅

Lepidus: That’s impossible-

Livia: Facet with his tasset can even stop a freaking bullet just by looking at it.

Lepidus: That’s a lie-

Livia: I’ve seen him do it before, Leppy~.

Palmyra: Just one bullet? That’s so lame, Livia. Velvereen the Wolverine can melt bullets and spit acid.😌

Vipsania: Ha! Both of your Tributes are nothing compared to mine. My Tribute, Treech the Leech can suck your blood out in seconds.

Pup: Well, my Tribute, Lamina with her stamina can drown anyone with just her salty tears.

Apollo: Bro, shut up. My Tribute, Otto from the Grotto can kill a grown man with just one punch.

Diana: Just one punch? My Tribute, Ginnee Houdini can turn you all into dust-

Juno: That’s so unoriginal, Ring. My Tribute, Bobby-

Hilarius: Bobbin.

Juno: Bobby Corn Poppy can lift a thousand grown grizzly bears with just one arm!

Hilarius: But my Wovey with just one knee can make you run for your money!

Gaius: You be lying, Hilari! My Tribute, Panlo with his hands low can kick all of your asses!

Androcles: That’s all you’ve got, bro?! My Tribute, Sheaf the Chief can strangle you with her eyes!

Io: Andie, stop with your nonsense! My Tribute, Circ with his quirk can fly you to the moon and back!

Urban: That’s all?! My Teslee from Mississippi can break a giant’s neck with her thighs!

Persephone: Do better, Urban! My Mizzen The Gremlin can break your bones with just using his zen!

Festus: Lol. My Tribute, Coral No Morals can knock you all out with just her profanities!

Dennis: Creed, sit down! My Hy So High can fly faster than a fly!

Iphigenia: Suck it, Dennis! Sol Aerosol can burn you all with just her sweat!

Domitia: Lame! My Tanner with a hanger moves faster than a spider!

Arachne: That’s just so and so! My Tribute, Brandy Sharp Candy will slice you to bits!

Clemensia: Little Crane is just jealous because Reaper The Sweeper has the strength of a thousand wild zebras.

Felix: And Dill with the drill has the agility of an eel!

Florus: Boring! My Tribute, Sabyn So Keen has the eyes of an eagle, speed of a cheetah, and the strength of a thousand flamingos!

Sejanus: But they won’t stand a chance against my friend, Marcus Spartacus!

Lysistrata: Wrong! My Tribute, Jessup with his getup will crush Marcus Spartacus like a bug!

Coryo: But they will all surrender to Lucy Gray and her army of Mockingjays!

Everyone:. . .

Festus: What’s a mockingjay?

Lepidus: What the duck and buck are you guys even saying?!😫

*Meanwhile, at the Zoo*

Lucy Gray: Sheaf the Chief-

Sheaf: Don’t even start, Baird.

Lucy Gray: But-

Sheaf: Do you want me to strangle you with my eyes?

Lucy Gray: Nevermind.😞

#tbosas #crack #crack post #crackship #coriolanus snow #president snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #sejanus plinth #lucy gray baird #hunger games #the hunger games #suzanne collins #thg #thg fic #tbosas fic #thg incorrect quotes #tbosas incorrect quotes #snowjanus #snowplinth #coriolanus x sejanus #clemensia dovecote #festus creed #felix ravinstill #reaper ash #coral #mizzen #treech #lamina #marcus

[kimbapisnotsushi]

miscellaneous haikyuu hcs that are scattered to the four winds bc i need to de-stress and i haven't done them in a while

tendou uses hair gel but tells goshiki that every morning he sticks a fork in an electrical outlet and that's how he gets his hair to stand up

goshiki, bless his soul, believes him

tsukishima freaks the fuck out when he learns that tenma asked out akiteru not because he's an overprotective brother or has misplaced resentment for the former little giant but because he's the biggest fucking fanboy of tenma's works

"what do you MEAN udai tenma asked you out what do you MEAN you've never read any of his works have you been living under a ROCK - "

this goes on for a whole hour and akiteru basically gets a free lecture of how amazing his little bro thinks his boyfriend is

when kageyama is really missing his grandfather he goes to the park where they used to play volleyball together and that's where he asks kunimi and kindaichi to meet him so they can finally have the proper conversation they needed in middle school

(i think about this hypothetical scene SO MUCH)

shibayama's parents own a cafe/bakery and the team converges there sometimes to hang out and will occasionally lend a hand

they help decorate it for the holidays!!

atsumu: "hey kita-san, i'm really sorry but i think i've caught updog" kita: "are you okay? do you need soup? tea? medicine? you should go home and take a break, i'll have gin send the notes to you, i'll let coach know - " atsumu, crying to the other second years later: "i can't fuckibg do this to him i feel like a momster"

kita DOES know the joke btw akagi did it to him back when they first met

inarizaki vbc is at war with inarizaki student council btw. inarizaki student council has been trying to steal kita for AGES ever since kita saved their asses in his first year from looking like total fools

kawanishi doesn't look like it but he is absolutely willing to fight for shirabu's right to be a snarky piece of shit

semi, exhausted, after stopping the third person that day from curbstomping shirabu: "kawanishi, why" kawanishi: "i like him like that"

sakunami is the most well-adjusted out of all the first years

at least every single one of them has broken some minor trespassing or breaking and entering law to play pokemon go

terushima is the type to try and show off in front of his crush and whenever this happens every single member of johzenji is determined to make him look like as much of a fool as possible

one day he's talking to komaki yuzuru and humble bragging about how oh so brave he was for his piercings and didn't even feel any pain or whatever and all his friends are walking by like

"hey yuuji thanks for singlehandedly lifting my parents' car out of that ditch they crashed into!!" "hey yuuji i heard you rescued twelve orphans from a burning house the other day!!" "wow yuuji i can't believe you steered an airplane after the pilot lost control and saved thousands of people!!" "hey yuuji remember that time you took on a whole gang of robbers and knocked out all of them??"

they are so fucking stupid i love them so much

reon is one of those early risers and tendou WILL throw a pillow at him if he doesn't shut off his alarm within five seconds of it going off

if it's winter and tendou has kicked all his blankets off then reon will carefully tuck him back in before leaving the room, flareon plushy included

reon has the BEST sweatshirt collection btw. they're comfy and have neat designs and everyone ends up wearing one at some point or another.

i love reon guys he deserves so much more love

kogane is a hopeless romantic and has a list titled "dream date spots" in his phone's notes app. there is an addendum at the end of the list in parantheses that says "must actually ask out sakunami first in order to go to dream date spots". kogane hopes to erase that addendum soon.

#god i feel SO much better #okay!! time to work on my jp classical lit final!! #i spent an hour doing this instead LMAO #tendou satori #goshiki tsutomu #tsukishima kei #tsukishima akiteru #udai tenma #kageyama tobio #kunimi akira #kindaichi yuutarou #shibayama yuuki #miya atsumu #kita shinsuke #akagi michinari #kawanishi taichi #shirabu kenjirou #kawashira #semi eita #sakunami kousuke #koganegawa kanji #kogasaku #terushima yuuji #komaki yuzuru #komateru #oohira reon #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu hcs #sou says stuff

[scarredwithcruelintentions]

chapter 11: arcane collaboration

Find the master list here!

CW: none (?)

W/C: 2,963

A/N: Time for a bro montage.

It was only once Astarion reached the myconid encampment that he realized Gale had all of his belongings tucked away on his person, and that if he were to leave now, he would have nothing to his name other than a pair of daggers and the armor on his back. He cursed his stupidity, his anger, for putting him in another predicament.

These foolish feelings of mine are sure to end me!

He heaved a great sigh, scraping a hand over his face and then ruffling his curls.

“Bloody great stupid oaf!” he bellowed, kicking at a harmless mushroom.

The rush of relief that the violence brought him was indescribable, so he kicked again. And again, and again, until the clump of fungal growth was nothing but a pile of mush beneath his boot.

But still, he felt no solace.

He sat heavily, dropping his face into his hands with a woeful moan.

“Astarion?” he heard a familiar voice call, and he repressed the groan of agitation that threatened to bubble from him.

“I don’t recall summoning you, O Great Annoying Wizard of Waterdeep,” he mumbled into his hands.

“Summons or no, I wish to speak with you about your little outburst.”

Astarion’s head snapped up so quickly to glare at Gale that he both felt and heard the bones of his neck pop with the strain.

“Come to reprimand me, have you?” he sneered.

“Much as I would like to, no, that is not why I have come. I’m here to console you, my friend, with the hope that you will stay,” Gale responded, not unkindly.

He was so taken aback by the wizard’s words, he could do nothing more than splutter ineloquently.

“I - you - you’re here to -”

“You did indeed hear me correctly. I am here to convince you to stay. We need you…she needs you.”

A small, sad smile adorned the man’s face, no doubt a sorrowful acceptance that your love lay in the arms of the pale elf before him.

A sliver of hope, oh-so-small and fragile, began to bloom in Astarion’s chest.

“She said quite the opposite mere moments ago. Or are your ears full of wool?”

Though his words carried malice, he had not the strength to impassion them with cruelty, too exhausted by the maelstrom of his emotions for anything more than a biting drawl. Astarion wanted nothing more than to be left alone with his thoughts, with the torturous narrative of his worthless and abominable existence. Left alone to give into his baser instinct of rage and loathing, culling the weak and innocent that dare mock his pain, preying on them as the monster he was built to be.

He shook the dusty cobwebs of hatred from his mind, focusing once again on the present. 

“I heard pain, and Gods below know the Hells hath no fury like a woman scorned. We all tell cruel lies, take drastic actions, when we feel slighted. I’d know a thing or two about that,” Gale chuckled darkly, “But the truth of the matter remains the same. She does need you.”

“And whyever would she need me? I am naught but an interloper, a trespasser, among you morally righteous lot.”

Gale chuckled again, “Careful. Wouldn’t want our Sharran or Gith friends to overhear your astute observations.”

That roused a giggle from Astarion, the sliver of hope blossoming in the cavity of his chest.

“They do rather think themselves above it all, don’t they.”

“Indeed they do. And while you may not be ‘morally righteous,’ you are not altogether evil either, my toothsome companion,” Gale said with a kind smile.

“Careful my dearest wizard, one might begin to think you hold me in high regard with words like that.”

“Nonsense. I am merely stating a fact. You, too, are terribly hurt. You cannot ascribe your actions and reactions to your character, but to your trauma and the chokehold it has on your person. As I said, I would know.”

“But would you set the world aflame, if only to warm your hands, Wizard?” he quipped, attempting to catch Gale off guard with his notion of cruel chaos.

“Once upon a time, I might have,” Gale murmured back.

Astarion was stunned into silence, finding himself lacking for a witty retort. He only stared, wide eyed, at Gale, waiting for the man to continue.

“I laid with a goddess,” he sighed, “and still coveted the power she wielded. She gave me everything I could ever want, her favor and her love, and still I wanted more. So much more that I defied her very creed and sought to claim the power that was rightfully hers.”

Gale pulled the collar of his robe down to show Astarion the shadow of the raw Weave contained in his chest.

“I thought it might make us equals, that she might love me more for it. Instead, I have heard nothing but the buzz of silence since. I held the love of a goddess in the palms of my hands, and instead of cherishing what I was given, I spat it right back in her face.”

Astarion could think of nothing to say, so he remained steadfastly silent.

“Beguiling creatures, women. Mortal and immortal alike,” Gale intoned with a smirk.

“Unless you can play them like a fiddle,” Astarion found his voice, smiling roguishly at Gale’s blush.

“I suppose you are not wrong,” he chuckled awkwardly, “Mystra was certainly never left wanting in my bed.”

Astarion studied Gale intently, having so thoroughly misjudged his character. He was grateful that the man came back to speak with him, though he’d never voice it aloud. Still, he could not resist the urge to tease him further.

“No one was left wanting in mine, especially so the men. So easy to please, you mortal men are,” he said with a raise of his brow, a challenge in his gaze.

Gale flushed a deeper shade of crimson, but did not back down.

“Once again, you are far from wrong, though the pleasures of the astral plane have rather sullied physical experience for me.”

“Shall we test that theory?” Astarion smirked, taking the upper hand.

Gale elbowed him in the ribs, a signal that he was forfeit.

“Pleasant as that sounds, I believe we have rather more important business to attend to. Besides, you would do well not to upset her further.” 

At the mention of you, Astarion’s face fell. How was he meant to deal with the fallout of his own actions?

“Oh, cheer up! She has already forgiven you, Astarion. I saw it in the way she watched you retreat. All is not lost.”

The hope that had blossomed in his chest slowly spread through his limbs, emanating a fuzzy warmth that only your sweet smile, scent and touch could bring him. It was the feeling of safety, of belonging.

All was not lost. ______________________________________________________________

Gale and Astarion ran the course of the Arcane Tower; left to their own devices, they decided they should make themselves useful. He was singed by one of the turrets when he’d had to stop and help the bumbling wizard to his feet, but couldn’t find it in himself to be overly irritated. He was thankful for the man, for this moment at least, as he had saved him from himself. Without Gale’s intervention, Astarion would be climbing the ladder back into Faerun, alone and terrified for his life.

Gale riffled through all manner of books and papers strewn about the tower while Astarion gathered the toxic spores needed for the tadpole elixir. They encountered the automaton, Bernard, at the top of the tower. It spoke in riddles, vexing Astarion, but Gale answered every one correctly, and the thing granted them access to the tower’s basement. There, Gale stowed away the magic imbued artifacts that they found, and they took their leave of the abandoned tower.

They came across a camp of enchanted fish people, laughing in the face of the redcap posing as the murder lord Bhaal and sending him back from whence he’d came. The fish people became collateral damage, naturally, as they were too weak of mind to overcome the fae creature’s enchantment. While Gale was conflicted by the massacre, Astarion reveled in the glorious gore. Whatever wariness was left from his fight with you and consequent abrupt departure was quickly replaced by the adrenaline rush of battle.

The two meandered back toward the myconid camp, joking and laughing heartily in companionship. Though he was grateful for Gale’s company, he could not shake the pangs of longing and worry for you. He had turned his back on you in a time of great need. He only hoped that you were okay, that the others had kept you safe in his stead. 

They took a wrong turn somewhere along the way, awakening a great and terrifying beast with razors for teeth and far too many eyes for his liking. The fight was taxing, this grim imitation of a beholder proving a prodigious foe. They were well met for their skill but felled it all the same, Astarion driving his blades through its massive eye, along with whatever drow acolytes the thing managed to unpetrify. They gathered what loot they could and turned back, making haste for the myconid encampment in the hopes that the rest of the group might have already returned.

Astarion’s gut fluttered with excitement and dread alike, already fumbling over just how to go about apologizing. Gale took notice, significantly more perceptive than Astarion first believed.

“Deep breaths, my friend. All will be well.”

Astarion flashed him a small smile, unspoken thanks hanging in the air between them.

They reached the myconid camp in record time, Astarion practically jogging the way there. He missed the scent of your skin, the feel of you in his arms. He wanted to spend another night with you curled close, the weight of your body pressed gently against him, grounding him. 

However, when he reached the encampment, there was still no sign of the others. Crestfallen, Astarion stopped in the middle of the walkway, a myconid running straight into him and cursing at him in a dissonant melody.

Gale soon caught up to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and maneuvering him out of the immediate footpath.

“I’m sure they’re fine Astarion. I’m sure she’s fine.”

They found a secluded spot near the encampment and began to set up their tents, Astarion anxiously awaiting your return. ______________________________________________________________

What felt like agonizing hours passed, Astarion’s anxiety ratcheting up and up and up every moment spent without you.

What if she’s hurt again? What if she died?

He sat just outside his tent, chewing at his nails and bouncing his knee restlessly. Gale worked on supper over the blaze of the fire, glowcap stew, occasionally throwing kind glances and reassurances Astarion’s way. 

Just as he went to bury his face in his hands, he smelled you.

He sprang to his feet in an instant, bounding in the direction your scent emanated from. He narrowly avoided colliding with Wyll, weaving between Shadowheart and Karlach in his quest to find you. The moment his eyes landed on your form, battered but alive, all of his worries fell away. He was awash with relief, with the warmth of your presence and your objective safety. He jogged right up to you, ignoring the question in your eyes, and wrapped you in a tight embrace.

“Thank the gods,” he mumbled into your hair.

“Hello to you as well,” you chuckled, arms coming up to hold him.

He veritably melted into you, and in a fit of giddiness, he lifted you into the air and twirled several times, delighting in your giggles and squeals. He set you back to the earth gently, placing a chaste kiss upon your forehead.

“I missed you something fierce, you know,” you murmured.

“And I you, little love. I’m terribly sorry,” he exhaled, still holding you in a tender embrace.

You leaned back to look at him, hand coming up to trail featherlight along the planes of his face, as though memorizing him by touch alone.

“I was so afraid I’d never see you again,” you whispered, expression pained.

He leaned his forehead to yours, closing his eyes in regret.

“I know, my darling. I know. Words cannot express the sorrow I feel for hurting you, for scaring you. There is naught I can say that will excuse my actions.”

“Perhaps you can show me, then,” you said boldly.

He met your eyes, a heated challenge held in them.

He raised his hands to cup your face, slowly leaning in to capture your lips in a tender but passionate kiss. You sighed breathily into him, and he took the opportunity to lick into your mouth, reveling in the saccharine taste of you. His tongue tangled with yours, his hands moving to hold you closer, to meld you to him. Yours flew up to nestle in the silky silver of his curls, pressing his face ever closer to yours as you battled for dominance in the kiss. 

As quickly as it had began, it ended, both heaving for breath against the all-consuming heat of desire thrumming through their veins. You pressed a few last chaste kisses to his lips, settling to rest your forehead against his once more.

“Apology accepted,” you murmured with a grin.

He smiled, a broad and dopey thing, and kissed the tip of your nose before breaking the embrace. He took your hand and lead you to camp, strolling lazily the whole way there, content to enjoy your presence and in no hurry to catch up with the rest.

“There is much adventure to regale you with.”

“Regale away, my dearest,” he grinned, reaching his tent and pulling you down to sit with him.

You told an animated tale of your excursion, of the Adamantine Forge and the construct, Grym, that protected it. It was a lengthy and difficult battle, but with the aid of fire and the forge hammer, you and the others had vanquished the enchanted foe. You pointed to your armor, glimmering with blue tendrils of mithral ore, and showed him the adamantine mace you’d forged with its remnants.

You then spoke of your encounter with the duergar and the drow, Nere, and the taxing fight that ensued. Ever defiant, you’d angered Nere with your savior complex and witty barbs, and he’d ordered the gray dwarves to end you and the others. Though they fought valiantly, they were no match for the combined strength and power of all who accompanied you, and one by one, they fell like flies to carrion.

You paused to open your bag, drawing out the disembodied head of the drow by the hair. He giggled malevolently, clapping his hands at your success.

“My, my! What a terrible and violent deed you’ve committed! I could not be more proud, darling!”

You flourished an emphatic bow at him, made silly by its overt exuberance.

“My thanks, dearest Star!” you giggled back.

You carefully returned the drow’s head to your bag, looking up at him fondly once you’d finished your task.

“What’s more, we managed to save the gnomes from certain death. That is my proudest acheivement.”

At the mention of the gnomes, Astarion’s posture and expression hardened. If it were anyone else he’d been in the company of, they might not have noticed. But it was not just anyone that he sat with, and ever perceptive as you were, you recognized his ire immediately.

“This again?” you asked, disappointment coloring your voice.

“Forgive me, my sweet. I mean not to dissuade you from being a hero. You must understand that I have spent many a century now, bitter and resigned to distrusting the altruism of others. No one helped me, not without a price.”

“My help comes with no price, my Star. I only wish to do right by those who have been less than fortunate, as it is what I would have appreciated most when I was at my worst,” you intoned, melancholy laced in the tilt of your brows.

Astarion hesitated with his next words, fear gripping his heart at the vulnerability he was preparing to so openly display.

“But it does. I…I am afraid. That your need to save others will come at the expense of yourself. That is not a price I am willing to pay. I cannot lose you,” he murmured, shifting his gaze away from you.

He felt your fingertips come to rest under his chin, walking his eyes back to yours. He was quickly overwhelmed by the tender affection he found in your gaze, fighting his instinct to burrow into your arms and never let go.

“You will not lose me, my love. We have each other’s backs, do we not? Where I lead, you follow, and vice versa. So long as you are by my side, there is no possibility of loss,” you breathed, nodding resolutely.

Astarion was overwrought with guilt and shame at your words. He should have been by your side for this adventure, to protect you and keep you safe as you’d done for him so many times. As he’d silently promised so long ago.

“Do not blame yourself for your actions earlier. I understand your plight like no other here; I do not fault you for your reservations.”

“Thank you, little love,” he exhaled, “I will not leave you again.”

You wrapped him in a gentle embrace, falling back to the cushioned mat of his tent to hold him close as you petted through the strands of his hair.

“Now, tell me. What did you and Gale get up to today?”

He chuckled heartily, settling into you and beginning his own tale of adventure and victory.

#bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion #gale of waterdeep #tav #astarion pov #vampire spawn astarion #soft astarion #reader insert #no use of y/n #unnamed tav #afab tav #bard tav #gale is such a bro #astarion needs a hug #but so does tav #angst #fluff #emotional hurt/comfort #slow burn #au canon divergence

[homo-adaptionem]

Urbex Tips

Urban Exploration tips:

Learn basic first aid & bring a first aid kit.

Don't go in alone. Bring at least two other people.

Build up your strength before hand.

You need a tetanus shot every 10 years. If you haven't had one in the last 10 years, get one before you start.

If you're asthmatic, bring your inhaler.

Do research on the building / area beforehand. Figure out why it's abandoned. Learn the history. If it's condemned, find out why. Could be health reasons.

Enter at your own risk.

Tell a trusted person(s) where you're going. Give them the location of any places you're exploring. This is in case something happens, they know where you are/were going. Make sure they know who you're going with.

Hard hats. Being serious. Shit falls, even in "newer" buildings.

Wear gloves (thick leather work gloves, not that plastic faux leather shit, actual leather. not disposables, they won't do shit against glass and metal), goggles (to protect your eyes), a face mask (ideally construction-grade but the fabric types will work well enough), thick, long pants (like jeans), work or hiking boots, long sleeves, and something to cover your hair, like a beanie. If you've got long hair, put it in a ponytail and stuff it under the hat. Trust me. Also deodorant is a good idea.

Invest in a headlamp (easier than using a flashlight)

Avoid the "white 16 year old boy with friends" mentality. Don't do stupid shit because it's funny. If that floor seems unstable, avoid it. Don't smash shit. Don't jump down dark holes.

Don't steal shit. It's tempting, but I don't recommend it.

Avoid tagging / making graffiti, esp identifying graff. Again, tempting, but you can still get in trouble for it.

If someone catches you, BAIL. Don't get into a fight. Don't stick around for pigs to show up. Don't engage, just get out of there. Most of the time, urbex is trespassing.

If you find (which you probably won't) large sums of money, it might be best to report it. It could be stolen or counterfeit and get you in trouble if you use it. But ultimately it's your own choice.

If you find (which you probably won't) bloody clothing, blood-covered knives (or other weapons), or a gun, report it. Fuck pigs yada yada, but it could be connected to someone's death. Don't touch anything, don't take anything, just call the authorities and tell them where it is. I mention this because it could be connected to the assault or murder of sex workers, partners, and/or minorities.

If you find drugs (which you probably won't), report it. Don't use it. Could be laced. Not safe to use, bro, not worth it.

If you find a body(s), (which you probably won't), report it. Check for a pulse, but if the body is cold and/or stiff, call the authorities. If they're still warm, you can try CPR on them while you call for an ambulance. If they have a pulse, call an ambulance. If it looks like they're ODing, use some narcan if you've got it.

If you find Satantic imagery or whatever, 9 times out of 10 it's just teens fucking around. Like I promise you, they were probably left by some guys wanting to cause a stir or trying to make their own ARG or something.

The building isn't haunted, sorry to say. There are rational explanations for every "supernatural" thing you'll encounter. Sometimes they're the aforementioned guys. If you're superstitious, scared of the dark, easily frightened, or suffer from psychosis, you're probably gonna have a bad time.

You may encounter looters, homeless folks, addicts, and/or mentally ill/disabled folks. Try to avoid confrontation. Let them be. If they're alive and unharmed, leave them alone. If they're injured or ODing, attempt first aid (narcan, tourniquets, compresses, etc.) and call an ambulance. No pigs, just medical help.

Watch out for animals. Don't pet them. Don't hurt them. Leave them alone. Also watch out for snakes, esp in buildings with a lot of concrete or gravel.

Don't wear iconic or identifying clothing. Don't worry about looking nice. Don't wear shit you like because it WILL get torn, stained, and trashed.

Just… never assume you're alone.

Feel free to reblog with other tips.

#Homo adaptionem #Urban Exploration #Urbex #Tips

[latelyanobsession]

Crashing with Ghosts

summary on a dare billy's hauled you out to the old farley bros. farmstead just south of the roane county line. billy's got the camaro trunk packed and a cooler brimming with brewskis. this'll be the easiest couple hundred bucks he's made in a long time. stay the night in some rundown farmhouse? easy. and with you to keep him occupied? even easier. but will you last the night? you know all about this creepy place and when strange things start happening during your stay you can't help but get frazzled. but will billy believe it? or will you be stuck in this spooky predicament til sunrise with someone completely clueless to the supernatural?

warnings cursing, underage drinking, trespassing on private property, breaking and entering, smut, generic teenage shenanigans, supernatural phenomenon, fright and fear, descriptions of past violent acts

word count 5,049

note entry for @sparklingsin's spookinktobter writing challenge. loosely modeled after one of my favorite spooky time films, The Ghost and Mr. Chicken (1966).

included prompts:

car doesn’t start

“i dare you to go down there.”

trapped in a haunted house

“be brave for me, baby.”

praise kink

dirty talk

As always any feedback is much appreciated. Thanks for reading!

He said that he was taking you out for the weekend.

"On Halloween?" you asked.

He nodded smugly, taking the pillows from your hands and placing it in the trunk.

"Where are we going?" you pushed curiously, eyeing the sleeping bag, but no tent.

The Igloo cooler in the back seat. A loose convenience store bag of snacks next to it.

It couldn't be camping. Could it?

"You'll see," he said vaguely as you both got into the camaro, the engine starting, headlights flicking to life.

The drive was much longer than you expected.

It was far too dark to tell which direction he was taking you in, and these county roads were notorious for being poorly marked.

You had little idea where you were. But you knew that you had left Hawkins behind well over half an hour ago.

"Are you taking me to Timbuktu?" you mused impatiently, fingers tapping along the car windowsill.

He drummed his fingers along to the cassette he'd selected, eyes shooting over at you in a thinly veiled warning.

"We're almost there... Be patient." he hummed, the car slowing up to a dirt drive.

He pulled in. The gravel kicking up under the tires, clouds of dust forming large wakes as he sped down the road.

Pulling around a large bend, you finally saw a structure at the top of the rise.

You recognized it instantly but hoped your eyes were lying to you as the camaro pulled up to the overgrown lawn. A weathered sign at the edge of the yard dangling by one remaining hook.

FARLEY BROS. FARMS

— EST. 1894 —

"Billy why...?" you whined pitifully, your stomach flipping as the farmhouse came into full view.

"Two hundred bucks." he stated simply, "one night stay..."

"And maybe a little fun in between..." he looked over at you, tongue caught between his teeth in a sly grin as he shifted into park.

You eyed him anxiously, eyes flitting back out the windshield.

The house's peeling white paint glowing eerily in the moonlight. Its sagging porch beams reaching out to greet you.

You remembered the Farley Bros. farmstead, and not fondly.

You were out here once before with Betsy Pendergast when you were 12 years old on a soft June afternoon.

Betsy wanted to see if all the things that Larry Atwater had said about this place during lunch were true. And well... you couldn't just let her come all this way out here by herself.

It took you both nearly the whole afternoon to ride your bikes out this way. Having a small picnic and respite under the lopsided sycamore tree in the Farley's front yard before beginning.

Once you finally got inside the house with Betsy...? You saw all you needed to see. And you both ran, something tripping you up on your way out the door. You didn't look back to find out, but it felt like something was trying to grab you.

And keep you.

Billy tapped on the passenger's side window startling you. "Get your ass out and help me will ya?" he muttered, wandering back to the trunk.

You took a deep breath, hand on the door handle, you got out.

"Billy I don't think this is a good idea..." you reasoned, blocking the cooler so he couldn't move it.

He raised an eyebrow, "Oh no...?" he shouldered you aside and shoved the cooler into your arms.

"You think Old McDonald is still around?" he mocked, laughing.

"Billy... it's not funny." you stamped your foot a bit, dust kicking up underfoot as you followed him to the trunk.

Pulling out your packs, he strapped his on, and held yours out. Still fishing around for last minute items.

"Don't worry, no hick ghost's gonna get my girl..." he chuckled.

Slipping the straps reluctantly over your shoulders you secured your belongings.

"Billy please..." you pleaded, "this place... its...—". You didn't want to say it. You would sound so stupid if you said it.

"Haunted?" Billy finished, coming out of the trunk, flashlight eerily illuminating his face.

You shoved him.

"Stop it." you pouted.

"No?... No really. You believe that shit?" he pressed, wrapping his arms around you after shutting the trunk.

You cast your gaze to the ground. Avoiding answering.

"Hey..." he cooed, voice low and throaty.

You peeked up at him.

He smiled, teeth glinting.

"Be brave for me baby." he encouraged, stroking his hands up your arms.

You took another deep breath.

"Ok." you nodded, picking up the food and him the cooler.

Walking up the front stoop, you picked your way across the broken porch beams, the wood creaking under your feet as you made your way to the door.

Placing his hand on the knob, Billy turned and pushed.

The door didn't budge.

"Oh what a shame. It's locked?" you whined sarcastically, peering over his shoulder.

He tried again, giving the door a hefty shove.

Nothing.

"Guess we can't get in..." you prattled aloud, turning on your heels to leave.

He scruffed you, dragging you back by the collar of your jacket.

"Just means we gotta try another way..." he mused, hand heavily patting your shoulder.

You huffed in discontent.

He directed the both of you a few steps away down the side of the porch to look for a new way in when,

Creeeeeaaaaaak.

The front door opened.

You both exchanged a look.

He motioned for you to go first with a nod of his head.

You shook your head vigorously in response.

Over your dead body would you be the first one crossing that threshold.

Rollings his eyes, he hooked his hands under your armpits, wheeling you back towards the door.

"Billy, no!" you protested in the sharpest whisper you could muster, heels digging in for any support you could find.

Reaching the doorstep, you protectively threw your hands up as he thrust you towards your fate.

BAM!

The door slammed closed as you crashed against it.

"Damn...." Billy breathed in disappointment, "So close."

"Asshole." you grunted, crumpling to the ground.

Billy offered his hand, helping you up.

"Well I guess that way's out..." he commented dryly.

"Ya think?" you replied snidely.

He pursed his lips, shining his flashlight around, "What about that?"

You followed his beam to the edge of the porch. There was a set of steps leading around the side of the house.

Walking with him to the edge of the porch you found the steps led around to the yard... And down to a bulkhead.

Billy nudged the rusty padlock on the cellar doors with the toe of his boot. "This should break pretty easy..." he reasoned.

"Billy that's breaking and entering..." you reprimanded him.

"Nobody has lived here for like what... 50 years...? Would you relax." he criticized.

Bringing his heel down harshly, the old lock crumbled to pieces.

"Like I said... easy." Billy stated, lifting one door and then the other. The hinges groaning as they pivoted on their pins.

Shining the flashlight, the beams got caught up in swirling plumes of dust and thick curtains of spider's webs, not exposed to open air for decades.

"I dare you to go down there," Billy taunted, patting some dust off on his jeans.

"Why me?" you whined, eyes searching the dark for any sign of a workable light switch.

"You're a lady aren't you…?" Billy teased.

"I'm a coward first..." you stated. You weren't proud.

Looking around Billy spotted a splintered broom at the corner of the porch. He shoved it into your arms.

"Clear out the webs so we can get on with this will you?" he pressed a hand to the small of your back, ushering you towards the stairs below.

Gripping the broomstick tight, fractured wood digging into your palms you swatted away what you could reach, as Billy shined his light for you.

Leaning the broom against a nearby wall you came back to the stairs. "I think it's all good..." you called.

Billy tossed the sleeping bag at you, climbing down.

Handing you your flashlight, he looked around. "Yeah, probably as good as it gets from here..."

The basement was cramped.

Old leather trunks, crates, and various pieces of furniture were scattered throughout the space.

Underneath the sole window in the room, shoved against the fading brick, was a dusty workbench. Covered in tarnished hand tools from a bygone era.

"Do you see a switch anywhere?" Billy asked, sorting through some boxes on a shelf.

"Billy, I don't know if they had electricity... there weren't any power poles outside..." you swept your light across the walls hoping you were wrong.

"Score!" he called out.

"You found a switch?" you answered hopefully.

Coming up next to you with a large grin, he held up a musty bottle.

"Better. I found the old man's stash." he said triumphantly.

"Billy that shit will turn your insides out." you warned, finding the staircase.

He chuckled, tucking it under his arm. "These things only get better with age babe."

You shouldered the door open at the top of the stairs, pieces splintering off the bottom as it finally gave way.

You entered the kitchen.

You stilled, those memories hitting you. A chill settling under your skin as your eyes settled on the kitchen table.

It was still set. Empty plates and glasses waiting for a meal that would never be had.

"Are you coming?" Billy hollered at you from around the corner.

You jumped, turning to follow him into the parlor.

He was setting his things down, unpacking.

He saw the look on your face.

"What, you wanna go upstairs instead?" he pointed at the ceiling.

You shook your head furiously. You knew what happened upstairs.

The parlor was bad but the second floor was worse. You would have to make do.

Placing your pack on the floor your eyes met the broad sweeping brush strokes of burnished red color tinging the floorboards. Faded and oxidized but still recognizable for what it was.

Blood.

"Babe c'mon..." Billy complained, pulling you from your thoughts.

You laid down the foam sleeping pad as Billy shook out the sleeping bag on top of it. Quickly setting the pillows and blanket on as well.

The set up was modest, but it was typical of what you'd come to expect from Billy as he lifted the lid off the cooler and cracked a beer offering it to you after taking the first sip.

With a small huff you took the bottle and took a couple generous swigs as Billy opened his own. Tapping the neck of his bottle against yours he took a large gulp.

"So what's the deal with this place?" he asked, eyes wandering curiously as his eyes took in the floor for the first time.

"This place sure has all the locals worked up..." he started following the wide blood trail across the room, stopping in front of the Steinway piano.

He leaned in close, shining his flashlight on the keys. Bloody fingerprints stained and dancing across the ivories.

"It's even got you uptight..." he continued.

You watched him cautiously from your place. Not moving an inch, worried that even breathing could set off some evil chain reaction in this place.

"He killed his whole family...." you stated. Billy tilting his head up to look at you from the piano.

"Can you come back here.... please?" you asked, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He smirked softly, returning to you. "You scared?" he questioned, pulling you into his arms and kissing your temple.

"I hate this house." you complained.

"You could definitely hate it a little less..." he reasoned, a hand drawing small circles on your back, as he took another drink from his beer.

"Not possible." you whined, burrowing your face into his chest.

"I bet you could" he drawled, hooking a finger under your chin and drawing your eyes up to meet his.

You shook your head stubbornly.

"Do you want to try?”, he challenged, “For me?", finishing his drink and dropping the bottle to the wayside.

Your gaze didn't waver from his. Eyes locked and drowning under his prolonged stare. The firmness of his grasp grounding and comforting.

"I need an answer baby girl..." he teased, thumb running over the swell of your bottom lip.

"Yeah..." you breathed timidly.

He didn't hesitate. Capturing your lips in a searing kiss, knocking the bottle from your hand. Its contents spilling out across the floor.

Drawing you in close, he wrapped his hands in your jacket, ripping it from your shoulders.

Walking you backward, he lowered you onto the sleeping bag.

"Billy, it's cold." you whined.

"I know baby." he cooed, prying at the hem of your shirt. Lifting up and exposing your skin to the stale air. "I'll warm you up, don't worry about it..."

Rucking the material up higher, a chill ran up your spine as he pulled the shirt over your head. 

Wrapping your hands in the cotton clinging to his chest, you pushed it feebly up and off his torso as he flicked the clasp on your jeans open, slipping you out of them. Your shoes tossed away haphazardly. 

“You’re going too fast…” you criticized, fingers fumbling with his belt buckle.

“Catch up baby girl. You can do it…” he encouraged, picking up your beer and taking a long drink.

Lip pulled between your teeth in concentration, you focused. Fingers prying at the leather and pulling the latch free. 

Finally. 

A small smile of satisfaction as you nimbly unclasped his jeans, thumb and forefinger driving the zipper down. Hand reaching forward.

“Wait…” he tutted, tongue clicking in light condemnation.

You pouted, sad puppy eyes watching his expression for further instruction.

Finishing your beer he chuckled, tossing it carelessly. 

“Don’t give me that look… you’ll like this. A lot.” He mocked you.

“On your side…” he instructed.

Giving a sharp exhale of annoyance, you positioned yourself, hips angled within his reach gaze, still fixed up at him.

“Good girl…” he petted your cheek softly, as he kicked off his boots, sliding out of his jeans, cock springing up to its full potential. 

Wrapping a hand around himself, he leisurely pumped his hand across his growing length. Pausing at the turgid head, his thumb gathering up the precum escaping from its tip.

Painting your lips with it.

Instinctively you shot your tongue out, gliding it along your lip to taste the new gloss.

Closing the space between you, Billy stroked a finger along the underside of your cheekbone, the crown of his dick weighing lightly against your lips.

“C’mon pretty girl… show me what you’ve got.” he taunted as your lips parted.

You hummed softly at the feeling of his hefty member pressing against your tongue and filling your mouth. His breath sharp and catching as a hand entangled itself in your hair, pressing you forward and pushing himself deeper inside the cavern of your mouth.

“Ohhh that’s a good girl…” he rasped, tossing his head back with a shudder as his grip held you in place allowing him to thrust at his own pace into your slackening throat.

His thrusts were long and languid. 

Drawing blood to his throbbing cock, muscle tightening and head swelling as you brushed your tongue flat against him on each outward stroke. 

Breathing out to cheat your gag reflex each time he’d push further back and hold you there. 

Your nose nearly touching his pelvis, his thighs trembling slightly as he pulled you back with a shaky, “Fuuuck, baby.” falling from his lips.

Bending down he ravished you. Lips hungrily crashing against yours as he pinned you down to the blankets.

Knocking your legs apart with his knees, he pushed his way in between them. Running a palm flat across the mound of your sex he looked up at you smugly, a thumb dipping between your folds. Flicking at that bundle of nerves growing more sensitive by the minute.

Your hips rolled as you lifted your head to look at him.

“I’m going to fuck you senseless…” he purred, “make you so dumb for my cock you’re not even gonna care where you are…”

He drew back and spat heavily on your core, fingers gathering the saliva and dragging them down through your already wetting folds.

“You wanna be fucked dumb baby?” he smirked, voice sweet and thumb running circles around your core. Teasingly pressing at your entrance but never delving inside.

“Yes.” you whined, hips shifting into his grasp.

“Such a nasty little girl…” he observed as you groaned, his middle finger finding its way inside you.

Ducking his head, his lips attached themselves to your mound. Sloppy kisses giving way to harsh, audible lapping as his tongue found its target. Your hips jerking under his heavy-handling.

His broad shoulders splaying your legs apart, he continued his assault. A second finger having snuck its way past your defenses, curling and pumping in tandem with the firm strokes of his tongue against your clit.

You could feel the tension building. The heated coil in the pit of your stomach winding. It wouldn’t be much longer.

“Billy I’m getting …. -” you whimpered, hips rutting against his tongue desperately.

BAM!

The loud thud came from the floor directly above you. Some dust shaking loose off the ceiling light fixture.

You both paused, waiting for more stirrings.

Silence settled back into the house.

You were beginning to look slightly panicked, as Billy curled his fingers harshly up against your upper walls calling your attention back to him.

“Hey…” he commanded sternly.

You met his azure stare, brows furrowed in concern.

“You’re ok baby. It’s an old house, some plaster probably fell or somethin…” he reasoned, fingers scissoring your channel wide.

“Relax baby…” you nodded shakily, laying back down as Billy’s tongue resumed its place. Wrapping around your bud and suckling. Fingers stroking heavily at the pad of flesh that made your toes curl. 

“Billy….” you mewled softly, hand fisting in his curls as the heat grew. The edge was imminent. One more touch and you’d be falling to pieces.

Your pleas hitting his ears Billy’s pace was reaching a feverish pitch, his attentions becoming rough and demanding. Sloppy and gruff, as his teeth scraped and pulled at the hood protecting that pulsing and swollen nerve center from him. 

You cried out, hips jutting involuntarily. Walls tightening around his fingers, threatening to snap them, as you fell apart.

“That’s it baby…such a good girl.” he encouraged. “But we’re not done…”

Letting you take a moment to catch your breath, he gave your ass a playful slap.

“Up baby.” he stated.

You nodded, rolling over, propping yourself up on your knees and elbows.

Billy gave a deep hum of appreciation, a hand coming down on your ass sharply.

“Gonna fuck this pussy until you scream my name.” he stated, with another smack.

Squaring up behind you, he teased his cock between your folds. Dousing himself in your slick.

Leaning flush over your back he leaned in close to your ear, “Gonna fuck your pussy raw baby… you better keep your focus on me.”

You whined, head lolling forward as he pushed himself inside of you. Sliding home and creating a sharp sting that ran up the base of your spine.

Pulling you close, Billy rocked himself into your tight heat.

“Fuck baby you’re always so good. So ready for me to fuck you. Take you like my personal fuck toy….” he droned, cock dragging out and rhythmically pressing back into you in deep slow strokes.

Still riding the aftershocks of your first climax, your fingers dug into the blanket. Each deep stroke of his cock sending tingling shockwaves through you and making you quiver.

“Billy….” you moaned out brokenly, eyes glassy.

“Yeah baby?” he groaned, with a short snap of his hips. Earning him a high yip from your lips. “You know where we are, baby? Still scared?”

 You blinked, brain a bit hazy but far from useless. You knew exactly where you were. And you still hated this house.

Lowering down off your elbows you raised your ass up higher, peering over your shoulder at him.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “That so huh?” The remainder of the conversation going unspoken, as he drove into you harder. Faster. Hands gripping your hips roughly.

You keened loudly. Eyes snapping shut as his cock rammed your cervix.

“How’s that baby?” he pressed, curling himself over your form. Increasing his pace. 

“Yes Billy!” you whined loudly, head snapping back against your shoulders.

His hand wrapped itself in your hair, pulling your head back, giving him greater purchase as he slammed his hips into yours. Pistoning himself in and out of you in a manner that was beginning to feel overwhelming.

His other hand was tucked around your waist. Snaking between your folds, rubbing at your clit.

You nearly sobbed, the pleasure overloading and clouding your thoughts.

“Baby where are you…?” Billy asked, thrusts not dropping for a moment.

You couldn’t answer. You weren’t even sure if you knew anymore. You just didn’t want him to stop.

“Baby…?” he drawled out in the lowest tone, “tell me…” 

“D-dunno…” was all you could muster in between high rolling mewls and harsh broken moans.

Your body was trembling, muscles warning you of your impending climax, as that coil rewound itself. The pressure building up higher and higher.

“Billy… ‘m close!” you simpered pathetically, hips pressing back to meet his thrusts. 

He growled deeply, index finger pressing circles harshly into your clit as he pushed his cock in to the hilt.

“Cum on my cock baby. Milk my cock…”

You fell apart, keening. Voice nearly cutting short.

Billy letting go of his grip on your hair to stabilize himself. Hand pressed to the ground above your head. Knuckles turning white, as he wrapped himself over top of you.

Buckling as your walls ebbed and contracted around him. 

“Fuckin shit baby….” he rasped, thrusts faltering. Coming in short, remaining seated deep within you as he tumbled off his own ledge. His cock twitching as thick spurts of cum filled you.

You both collapsed, taking a moment to gather your breath before parting.

“You want another beer?” Billy offered.

You rolled over to look at him, still not quite able to speak. You shook your head. 

Not yet.

Blinking slowly, tiredly. You rubbed at your eyes, as Billy got up finding all your discarded clothing.

Dropping your clothing near you, he got dressed.

“Gotta take a piss…” he said, zipping up his jeans. “Be right back.”

Taking deep breaths you slowly drifted back down to earth. And reality. The cold and dampness of the room twinging your skin.

Grabbing your clothes you got dressed hurriedly, hoping to shrug off the shivers continuously running up your spine.

Nearly done, shirt in hand you were about to pull it over your head when a cold hand raked itself down the nape of your neck. You wiggled uncomfortably. Whining childishly.

“Billy, it's not funny anymore…” you pouted.

“What’s not funny?” Billy answered, coming around the corner on the opposite side of the room.

You swallowed, turning slowly on your heels to look behind you.

Nothing.

You laughed nervously, “Maybe I will have another beer…”

Billy already had another one cracked, and a bag of Lays opened.

You took a long drink, nearly downing the whole bottle in one go.

“Woah, slow the fuck down!” Billy cautioned. “There’s plenty more…”

That’s not what you were concerned about.

Billy’s watch chirped.

12:00 AM.

Just then the piano started up. A steady jolly tune emanating from its frame.

The keys were dancing. Moving up and down. Shifting notes of their own accord, all without a player at the bench.

Each key marked in blood, sounding.

Your skin was pricked from head to toe in goosebumps. Your heart was thundering so loudly, you worried it might break free from your chest. You felt faint.

“What the fuck?” Billy exclaimed in disbelief.

“Billy I wanna leave… Now!” you begged.

Billy couldn’t believe his eyes, the tune coming to a crescendo as a vase rose off the end table and flew past him. Smashing into the wall.

“Maybe you’re right…” he muttered, ushering you out to the hallway.

You grabbed onto the back door and pulled. It wouldn’t budge. You shoved frantically, shoulder pressed against the wood, lifting the handle and twisting.

“Billy the door is locked!” you nearly yelled.

Stepping aside, you let him try. Sweat beginning to bead on his forehead as his grip slipped off the handle. A foot wedged against the wall as he tried again to wrench it open.

“What the hell is going on?!” he yelled, looking at you. Panic was beginning to rise in his voice.

“I told you, this place… It’s ––” 

THUD. SHHHHHHHP. THUD. THUD.

Footsteps. Heavy. And the intermittent drop of something along with it. Something weighty. Something ominous.

“Billy we gotta get outta here!” you pushed, running to the dining room and tugging at a window pane. They were nailed shut.

“Move!” Billy shouted, kicking a thick boot at the glass. The window shattered.

Wrapping his hand in his denim jacket he smashed out the rest of the shards, handing you the denim.

“Start the car!” he instructed as he helped you through the sill first and onto the porch.

Tumbling out, you reached back for him only to have his hands pulled out of your grasp.

“Billy!” you screamed, as he disappeared back inside the house.

“The car!” you heard him yell from inside.

Jumping off the porch you ran down the drive to the camaro, throwing open the door and jamming the key into the ignition.

Brrrr Putt Putt Putt Brrrr 

The engine sputtered and whirred, headlights flickering.

“C’mon dammit…” you pled, eyes flitting from the dash to the house and back.

The car continued to whine before completely puttering out.

“Son of a bitch!” you raged, hands beating the steering wheel.

Falling out of the car, you ran back towards the house.

You had to get him out of there. Even if you couldn’t get off the property.

You looked around, eyes spotting the old garden shed.

You kicked the door in, looking for anything helpful.

Grabbing a shovel. A remaining can of kerosene and some rags, you ran.

You returned through the broken window.

“Billy?!” you yelled.

The house was silent.

SCHWING!

You barely saw the glint of dull metal, ducking under the dining room table as an ax blade impacted the wall above you.

CRACK!

You screamed. The table absorbing a blow directly above your head.

CRACK CRACK!

The table was buckling, the woodgrain splitting under the abuse. You couldn’t hide here much longer.

WHAM!

The table split. Exposing you.

A large ghastly figure looming tall above you. You didn’t need to guess who it was you already knew.

It was Wilbur Farley. The man who killed his own brother. Who killed his entire family on August 12, 1938.

He was caked in blood. His face disfigured and gnarled by the self-inflicted wound he had imposed upon himself to remove himself from the world of the living and into the next.

Hands wrapping tightly around the ax handle, he swung it back, raising it high. Ready to deal your coup de grace.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks, as you gripped the shovel in your hands, lifting it as your last means of defense. 

“Hey dipshit!” Billy slurred, stumbling into the room. “I wasn’t done with you yet…”

“Billy!” you sobbed in relief, eyes washing over his battered form.

Spitting the blood from his mouth, Billy dug his feet into the floor. Hands splayed wide. Stance ready.

“Come get me fucker.” he taunted. 

Running straight at him, Wilbur Farley hit Billy dead on. Pushing him back through the room like a linebacker on a 4th down play. Billy’s feet scrambling for purchase on the dust covered rug and finding none.

His hands wrapped around Farley’s ax, Billy grappled with the monster. Being flung against the wall, his head denting the plaster as he slumped to the floor.

Running to Billy’s side you shook him. He was out cold. 

Setting down the kerosene, you wielded the shovel.

“Hey ugly!” you yelled, grabbing the monster’s attention. “You ever fight fair, or have you always been a pussy?”

Farley tilted his head as if he was contemplating you insult, before he took a giant running swing at you.

You jumped back, slamming the ax down with your shovel and slicing up. Ramming him in the face with the shovel’s blade.

It sent him reeling backwards. Stunned. But not for long.

He was angry now.

Rushing you, he hit you square in the chest with the blunt side of the ax before you could react. You fell flat on your back gasping for air, the shovel thrown far from your grasp.

Reaching. Clutching. Grasping for anything you could put your hands on you felt the floor. 

Nothing.

You were going to die.

Click.

“You really shouldn’t pick on girls…” Billy’s voice drawled out. “They got a funny way of getting even with you…”

Click.

He had lit a rag… dipped into the kerosene canister.

“Get your ass up…” he urged, as you clamored to your feet and ran.

Billy threw the tin, Farley catching it. Looking confused as the kerosene tipped out onto the rag, igniting.

Running to the dining room you jumped out the window, Billy finally climbing out after you, as you both flew down the path to the camaro. The windows to the hows blowing out with flames as the house became progressively engulfed.

Getting into the driver’s seat, Billy turned the keys the car whining. “C’mon baby you can do it….” he murmured. 

The car whined and sputtered, whirring.

“C’mon baby….” he continued.

The engine turned over. Sparking to life.

“That’s a good girl.” he praised, pleasantly patting the dashboard.

You couldn’t believe it. 

Billy looked at you, “What, you wanna stay and catch a charge?”

“No,” you pouted, coming around and sinking into the passenger’s seat.

The drive back to Hawkins was quiet.

“Billy?” you asked.

“Yeah?” he replied.

“Next year we’re watching a movie or I’ll kill you myself…” you mentioned.

“Deal” he snickered.

#strangertober #spookinktober writing challenge #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things x reader #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove oneshot

[fluffypotatey]

I see your cryptid nightmare Merlin and raise you, cryptid-by-association Hunith. Like, it's canon that other magic beings have an innate ability to sense Emrys, and she's spent almost 20 years being surrounded by his magic, so now she just has this unseen aura of Not To Be Fucked With, By Order Of Emrys. On market days, she takes a shortcut to the next town through a Very Haunted Forest and it's like:

Dryad 1: Bro, there's a human in our forest, the fuck?

Dryad 2: Bite your fucking tongue, Carl, that's Hunith.

Dryad 1: Whoa, Emrys's mom?

Dryad 2: Emrys's mom. So put your fucking roots down and be nice.

Dryad 1: Oh, shit, yeah, totally, my bad.

Dryad 2: She's really nice, too. Watch. Hi, Hunith!

......

Hunith: *hears the trees rustling without a breeze*

Hunith: *raised a child that regularly spoke to plants, bodies of water, and animals*

Hunith: Good afternoon, lovely day, isn't it?

........

Dryad 1: Oh, she is nice!

Dryad 2: Told you.

A sorcerer in the market town sees Hunith come strolling idly out of a forest that has a Known history of trying to Actively Murder Trespassers and is just like, "What the actual fuck?"

i moved my queue 2 hours later because i didn't want this to get drowned out because YES

we've now seen cryptid eldritch horror that is emrys aka merlin, but anon is asking the right questions. who does the cryptid horror better? who started it first? who is ignorant to the abject terror they insight on magical people because of how they surround themself with???

why hunith of course!

#tbh i dunno what else to add anon you summed it up perfectly #also every sorcerer hunith meets she flirts with because there's just something about magic users for her idk #that sorcerer in the market who stared at her in awe and fear? she winked at them and asked them out #imagine balinor coming back to help merlin and maybe rekindle old flames with her and learns that she's got a long list of lovers #lovers who (despite their annoyance/fear/anger of her godly son and his ungodly powers) would do anything for her #actually: hunith's life is mama mia but with magic and a fantasy au #where was i going with this? idk i'm tired it's passed 12am #bbc merlin #hunith #all hail hunith the mother of emrys #merlin emrys #headcanons #bamf merlin #bamf hunith #Anonymous #asks

[halogalopaghost]

Blame It On The ADD Babey

read on AO3

When one has ninja for brothers, one learns very quickly that sneaking up on them is a poor choice. It's liable to lead to head injuries, black eyes, misplaced guilt, and/or revenge. Donnie knows this—he knows it well and yet, he is also a ninja, and it's simply too easy to scare Mikey. Besides, this is Donnie’s laboratory and he reserves the right to scare trespassers.

He barely gets the first syllable of an innocuous “Whatcha doin’?” out of his mouth before Mike is screeching and leaps nearly a foot off Donnie’s computer chair.

He throws himself in front of the screen, blocking it with his hands and shell. “Video games!” heresponds forcefully.

Don grabs up a metal scrap from the workbench at his elbow and uses it to rap Mikey's knuckles out of the way. He yelps, then opts to turn the monitor off altogether.

Not before Don was able to recognize the WebDoc site. Immediately, his self-satisfied smirk fell into a worried look toward his brother’s open, startled expression. Last time he had WebDoc open, he was looking for symptoms of blood poisoning and the potential for necrotic tissue. It hadn't come to that but—having WebDoc open was just never good.

“I was just doing some—light bedtime reading,” Mikey rushes, looking anywhere except at his brother. “Y’know, just uh, trying to bore myself to sleep.” He fakes an over-dramatic yawn and reaches for the power button on the CPU under the desk. “I guess it worked, I'll just—”

Donnie raps his knuckles again, getting the same quick yelp and pull back as before. “You gonna tell me what’s up, or do I have to check your search history?”

Mikey’s mouth fell open. “Whoa, you can do that—?”

“Mikey,” he says sternly. He raises the rod of scrap metal threateningly, pointing it at his brother’s throat.

He puts his two-fingered hands up on either side of his face in surrender. “Okay, okay!” His eyes drift a little, not quite meeting Don’s. “Can our brains, like, do the same stuff as a human’s?”

Donnie narrows his eyes. “Do you mean…intelligence-wise?”

He laughs. “Nah bro, I know you’re already way past that. I mean like... hormonally.”

If at all possible, he narrows his eyes even more. “Didn’t Master Splinter give you the talk already? That's kinda above my pay grade, dude.”

Were he warm-blooded, Michelangelo’s face would be the color of Raph’s bandana. “Charles E. Cheese, Donnie! Not like that !”

Donnie splutters. “Then what do you mean?”

“I dunno! Like, dopamine and stuff!”

He’s briefly caught off guard that Mikey even knows what dopamine is, but the question quickly sidetracks his brain. “Hm. Well, I haven't had much access to that kind of data. I’ve done basic blood panels on all of us, so I know we possess relatively ‘human’ blood cells, and our chemical makeup is very similar. But I've never had a chance to do CAT or MRI scans on any of us, and I haven't monitored brain waves at all…I suppose there is room for deviation as we aren't really spliced with human DNA, rather rapidly evolved to a parallel proto-humanoid form due to the ooze—”

“Is this gonna be one of those times where I ask a five word question and you deliver a five thousand word essay?” Mikey sticks a finger in his mouth, making a gagging noise. “Bo-ring.”

This time, Donnie whacks him on the bicep. It's just cathartic to his older-sibling soul. “What are you getting at, you goof?”

Mikey taps his fingers together in front of himself, appearing to think carefully on his next words. Which freaks Donatello out more than the WebDoc page, honestly, because Mikey hardly ever thinks before speaking. He hardly ever thinks before doing anything, really. Maybe he just hardly thinks.

“You ever heard of ADD?” 

Donnie’s brow rises, processing the question like a loading webpage. And wouldn't you know it—404 error, page not found. Blue screen of death. Smoking server rack. “I think” he says slowly, “I've seen it mentioned in passing. Why?”

Mikey takes a deep breath, and Donnie braces for the word onslaught.

 “Well you know how Casey and I were hanging out last week and playing video games, and I told him about that time I got distracted during one of Sensei’s lessons and almost cracked my skull open on Raph’s shell—you remember that time?—and then Casey said I remind him of this cousin he has who’s always getting into trouble because she can't pay attention and kept forgetting stuff she, like, just learned in school, and her grades were bad, and at first her parents though she just wasn't trying hard enough, but then —”

Donatello grabs Mike by either shoulder, shaking him. “Breathe, bro!”

He takes in a deep breath, plastron extending as far as it can go, then lets the pizza-breath sigh out way too close to Donnie’s face. “Anyway, I guess his cousin has ADD or whatever and he said I might too, since I always zone out and goof off. 'Cept now I think he mighta been joking cause saying it out loud sounds stupid.”

Donnie blinks, processing all that. Finally, he points to the monitor. “Mind if I—?”

Mikey shrugs.

Plopping down in his seat, Donnie turns the monitor back on and begins skimming the page. Words like inattentive and fidgety and forgetful zoom past his eyes as he scrolls, and it’s like he just walked into Mikey’s skull and flipped on a light switch; he can finally see how everything works in there.

“Don?”

“Uh-huh—uh, let me do some reading and I'll get back to you in the morning.”

“Oh. Okay. I guess I'll just—uh—see you tomorrow, bro.”

Donnie vaguely hears him shuffle out of the room and over to the living area, but he's already too engrossed in the literature for anything beyond that.

***

Three out of four brothers are halfway into breakfast when Donnie shuffles out of his lab.

“Ey, ‘bout time you joined the land of the livin’,” Raph calls, pulling out Don’s chair for him. “Get any sleep, egghead?”

He stops just short of the table and stares at it with a crazed, haunted look in his eyes.

“Donatello?” Leo asks, sitting up straighter. “What's wrong bro?”

He looks around the table at each of his brothers, finally settling on Michelangelo. “We all have it.”

Mikey looks to his siblings for help, but they just shrug. “Uhh, what do we have?”

Where he stands, Donnie’s eyes start drifting shut, and he sways on his feet. Raph automatically reaches out to stabilize his brother, rolling his eyes.

“What’dya do to him this time, Mikey?”

Mikey puts his hands up defensively. “Hey, how come you always assume it's my fault? You know what Master Splinter says about assuming—”

“Which applies to everyone but you,” Leo cuts in, a hint of a smirk in his tone.

Raph jostles his brother. “Hey, earth to egghead.”

Donatello snaps to attention. “We all have it,” he repeats ominously.

Mikey finally relents and puts down his fork. “What, The Force? I need specifics, dude.”

“ADD. You have it, I have it, Raph has it. Leo’s the only one without it and even then it's borderline —”

Oh no.

“—speaking of which, Raphie’s got oppositional defiant disorder, so that clears some things up.”

“Hey! I do not!” he protests, despite not even knowing what that is.

Donnie plops into his seat. “Leo’s got anxiety apparently.”

Mike groans. “Geez dude, how long were you on WebDoc?”

“Not WebDoc, Michelangelo,” he says very gravely. Mikey feels inclined to scoot away. “Scholarly articles, scientific studies, mommy blogs.” He looks down at his hands. “Apparently I'm self-medicating with coffee, and you’re self-medicating with soda.”

“What the shell is this nutcase on about?” Raph once again looks to Mikey and Leo follows suit, concern spelled across his brow.

“I asked him about ADD last night. Uh, attention definition disorder.”

“Deficit,” Don adds.

“What's that supposed t’mean?”

“Before bed? Come on Mikey, I thought you  knew better.” Leo sighs. 

“Uh, I appreciate the diagnosis, doc. But shouldn't you, like, sleep?”

Donatello turns a long, dead-eyed stare on Mikey, then it hardens into a glower. “Oh sure, go to sleep. If you didn't notice, I'm a little busy having an having an identity crisis and reading the entire DSM!” His volume escalates until he's shouting at the end of the sentence, throwing his arms up for good measure.

Leo looks at Mikey, stunned. “You broke him.”

“Did not!”

Raphael waves his hand in front of Don’s face, watching his bloodshot eyes and the way he’s still muttering. “Way to go chucklehead, you finally turned his brain to turtle soup. Hope you’re happy.”

Donatello has continued to have his own private chat with himself, staring vacantly at the table. “...and Leo needs more vitamin D—oh man, we all need more vitamin D. I'm getting everyone started on a magnesium and vitamin D supplement, maybe caffeine pills or something for Raph—”

“Donnie,” Leo tries.

“Some stim toys, maybe…”

“Don.”

“I wonder if I can get my hands on some adderall…imagine how powerful I'd be without distractions.”

“Dude!” Leo snaps his fingers in front of Donnie’s face, finally getting his attention. “Bro, catch me up here. What does all this mean?”

“It means,” he begins loudly, using both arms to gesture at Mikey, “that Mikey isn't stupid, his brain-mouth barrier is just infantesimally thin! And Raph isn't a rage machine for no reason, he’s rejection-sensitive!”

Raph looks at Donnie with a face that Mikey knows well; it means someone is about to get punched.

“The three of us have virtually no impulse control, it’s just not programmed into our brains. And Leo! You’re actually chronically stressed!”

“We knew that already,” Raph grumbles.

“Yes, but there's a medical explanation— treatments. You could learn to cope better with your extreme emotions. Mikey, we could help you pay more attention, sit still when you want to.”

All three brothers raise their brow at that one.

Leo breaks the silence with a snort. “And what after that, tame the wind? Stop waves from hitting the shore? C’mon, Don, even you aren't a miracle worker.”

“I resent that,” he says, eyes fluttering as he battles his own ability to stay conscious.

“Does this ‘ADD’ mention anything about avoidin’ sleep?” Raph asks snidely.

“Yes actually, apparently it isn't uncommon to enter a state of hyperfocus and completely—”

Leo stands, and the other two coherent brothers follow suit. As one, they hoist Donny up while he continues to babble and cross the lair to deposit him on the couch. Raph throws a blanket over him while Mike flicks the lamp off.

“Sleep tight,” Leo says.

“Did you know—” Donnie mumbles, eyes already closed, and they all groan. “We say ‘sleep tight’ because bed frames used to be made of—” he stops to yawn “—wood and leather straps, which were…pulled taught across the frame to hold the…the…”

Leo lets out a relieved sigh as Donnie’s mouth goes slack and his breathing evens off into sleep.

Raph looks at Mikey over their brother’s sleeping carcass. “Askin’ him before bed? Really bro, we gotta talk about your timing skills.”

He shrugs. “It's the ADD.”

#turtleposting #tmnt #tmnt2003 #tmnt fanfic #my writing #the ghost writes #teenage mutant ninja turtles #this fic is almost a year old #I've published 19 more since then skghskfjs

[chadsuke]

one thing that i do really hate in inquisition is how completely disconnected the different origins are from. everything. they feel soooooo superficial yknow.

like it wld be one thing if my faith actually impacted the game heavily (WHICH IT SHOULD. U YOU HAVE UR OWN CULT.) but it truly feels like the only origin that has anything extra is DALISH in like. a single fucking quest + when dealing with solas and playing dai as a dalish is just. millions of microaggressions constantly.

in origins EVERY origin had SOMETHING. even dalish, which had the least, had you with other dalish. city elf shit! orzammar! the circle! howe! i guess there doesn't need to be full on massive plot points like that (tho seriously origin was sooooo good in how it did that. mwah.) but i would like at least a single quest! something! anything! could we have like one single family member come chill at skyhold or something? anything? dialogue? you don't get anythingggg until trespasser and even then. barely.

the inquisitor just feels like such a hollow character bc there's scarcely any real variations? like the variations feel like PLOT variations sure but not. CHARACTER. not PERSONALITY not who i AM bc im locked into the same role no matter what.

every time my character automatically addresses people politely and goes oh lady montilyet :) and stuff im like bro why can i not be rude as hell. why can i not give a shit about titles. why can't i do a lil dance and make inappropriate jokes ala hawke or something. im just very............... bland. too polite.

literally sera showed up and i was like can i please be sera please please please let me be unhinged i am literally deeply jealous every time she's on screen

#gigi.txt #its just. like. #its so superficialll agh #dragon age #dai

[tobiasdrake]

Exploring the Cloud Ruins.

The graphical upgrade is an adjustment, to be sure. Everything feels so different in the future. Am I bigger? I don't think I'm bigger. But I feel bigger.

Also, pretty sure those statues are the Sky Council.

...uh, hi? You know, of all the things I expected to see up here, human-sized ghost women wasn't one of them. I have so many questions about the presence of ghost human women in these ruins.

Oh, is that how it's gonna be? You're really going to copy my fucking look and then gaslight me about it? I'll have you know, my people wrote the book on gaslighting so don't even try me.

Wow, this is really obnoxious when it's other people doing it to me. I like it better when I'm doing it to other people.

But no. I'm not going to let this get to me. Because there plenty of are other tools in the Mean Girl playbook.

*Ahem*

^_^ Really, it doesn't matter who wore it first. I'm just so happy to be able to share this experience with you. These hats will become the measure of our true, lasting friendship. People will see us together and they'll know. They'll know what peas in a pod we are, you and I.

See you around, my beloved Hat Brother!

"........."

...Wentworth? Wentworth the Sleeper? Is that you?

WENTWORTH!? WENTWORTH, NO! WENTWORTH--

T-T Wentworth is mean to uninvited trespassers.

Hey, buddy. Nice to see you in 16-bit. As you can probably tell, we've been transported to the future!

Or. I've been transported to the future. I dunno, you might have got here the slow way. But that still counts! Technically, aren't we all time traveling to the future, every moment of every day?

WENTWORTH PLEASE I PROMISE I DON'T HAVE A LOAF OF VOLCANO BREAD FOR YOU

WENTWORTH WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME-E-E!!! T-T

Okay. Uh. Bye, I guess.

He quit so that counts as a win for me by default. *smug* Wentworth's not so tough. All I had to do was keep my composure.

That's what I thought.

...

._. Why does winning this exchange make me feel sad and alone? This isn't what victory's supposed to feel like.

It's fine. Whatever. So what if I don't have a beloved Hat Bro who'll coordinate outfits with me and be my pal. I still have my cool hat, my bestie Quarble, and my dignity.

WENTWORTH NO MORE PLEASE I NO LONGER WISH TO BE A CHEW TOY I HAVE MAIL TO DELIVER WENTWORTH--

Ohhhhhhh

He hates me because I'm a postal worker. That makes sense. Okay.

Well. This looks fucking complicated. It's okay, though. I've got my graplou and my wingsuit, so I should be able to thread these needles. Here we go.

Eh. Same conclusion as trying but with less effort. That's a net win in my book.

Anyways, what were we doing?

OH RIGHT TEETH IN MY KIDNEYS THAT'S WHAT

At least he's after Turtle Guy too. I can take comfort in the knowledge that he's not just prejudiced against mail carriers.

I refused to sympathize with an invading demon, however. Fuck you, Turtle Guy. I hope Wentworth eats your shins.

#the messenger #drake plays the messenger

[that-one-girl-idk]

(rant, and be aware that there are some words and topics talked about which may make you uncomfortable)

I hate hazbin hotel fandom so much bro (in general).

(Note i am a valentino fan but i genuienally don't care if you people don't love him but here are some things i want to get out of my chest or else i am gonna lose my anger next time. And i am not someone who is active in tumblr but i mostly see this things going on at apps like pinterest and tiktok, and maybe youtube so i don't really know how tumblr fanbase acts at all)

I hate the way hazbin fandom treats valentino so much that it's not even funny anymore. I am myself a valentino fan but i am gonna honest with you all in normally i don't really afraid of saying my opinions at all but i am actually scared of saying i love valentino thanks to this stupid fandom, i am not joking i am really scared because like... hazbin fandom does nothing but harasses valentino fans many times and immediately thinks valentino fans supports valentino's actions which are about abusing his workers and s/a and i genuienally really hated this fandom with my entire hearth because if i tell i am scared to get harassed because in the past i was bullied over harassment and i cried about it like weeks and i actually considered to HURT MYSELF because of the bullying i faced with, so i don't want to face with this anymore cus i was really in pain, it really hurted me and i don't want it to happen to me again... especially for over a fictional character, it's really pathetic and i am really tired of people saying valentino fans loves val's abuse things and defends him stereotype, i can tell you that not every single val fans do this like... weren't you guys the same ones who were saying we can like characters without supporting their actions thing for like two years? What happened to it now, why do you guys automatically think every val fan loves s/a and supports it? I have moots/friends who are s/a victims and yet they love val and they also hate when people treat val fans like this.

And continuation of it i've seen many many people who makes val space goat but brush off others' disgusting actions and i never saw many people actually talked about them while they're also messed up like val, hazbin hotel characters are littlerally everytime are sinners who ended up in hell for their bad actions and funny thing they still continue to their disgusting actions and/or does much worse things too like manipulation, pyshological abuse, cannibalism, lying, gambling, alcohol usage, unvalidating their workers or abusing their workers (in a pyshological way), harassment/death threatening, sexual harassment, drug usage, premarital sex, cheating, bad parenting (?), trespassing on private property without permission, mafia stuff, cult-ic (ig) things and many more things going on in show yet i never saw people talking about other characters' (except val) this points (littlerally everytime) and brush them off or ignores them because they find the characters nice, silly or hot :/. I personally don't understand why people in this fandom acts like this meanwhile littlerally no other character are saint or good people either, now don't come at me and say "They're in main cast so people tend to like them more" excuse, okay people can like them i don't really care but i don't understand people genuienally ignoring their bad actions and act like they're amazing people (honestly many of them would do smt bad to us once they saw us tbh 💀). Like suprisingly i saw two people in tiktok talked about alastor's pyshological abuse towards husk and told they hated him (which is valid in my opinion cus people can hate/dislike characters because of their actions too), it is true that husk faces with abuse by alastor with being treated like a stupid pet (alastor said husk is nothing but his pet), not being respected to his boundries, facing with death threats, being silenced over many things since alastor doesn't like husk to talk about some specific things at all, and i am kinda sure that alastor never actually cared about charlie but want to be seen like that so he can take her soul (it is a theory but it is a theory which has an aspect to be senseful than many other theories tbh) etc. stuff but then i see some people really defends alastor's actions and someone really said "husk deserved what he got cus he annoyed alastor" (well if it is like that then angel also deserved what he got since he also annoyed valentino but it's not how it works according to you all, btwif we ignore the jokes both of them doesn't deserve it) and stuff cus they are either find him cool or his simps (as i see) :/ and it made me really sad to see it happening because i am also someone who suffers from pyshological abuse yet i rarely saw people talked about it in this fandom yet they keep talk about angel's abuse (those people ignores this abuses but only talks about angel cus "he went through a lot :((" thing, and no you can't just go and compare traumas to each other because you think one is "worse" meanwhile it is not since traumas are traumas and gives people different type of pains and comparing them always makes one seem "better" or "normal" or shadowed than other, stop comparing traumas people please, but please don't stop talking about this topic too just because i made this rant, my point i try to make is we shouldn't only focus on one and ignore/shadow others) i even know people defend adam who has sexist/mysogynistic actions because he is either their fav or he is hot :| (make it make sense you all).

(also i am not saying there are people who doesn't defend val's actions, actually it is pretty normal to see any character's fans defending the character's bad actions tbh but i am not trying to say we should ignore val's actions but can we also put light to others too please?)

And i also don't love val haters who keeps makes jokes about val which are nothing but the ones which changes his character; Like i am sorry but him being all over pedo or his entire character being abusive jokes are not funny at all guys, you guys probably do this jokes just because you people hate him and it is getting annoying. Please at least don't change his character dude. Valentino's entire character neither only being abusive nor being a pedo, he is not even mentioned as pedo as i clearly remember, he targets some specific people like his workers (who are adults) and only abuses them, for example angel, angel is his worker and someone who sold his soul to valentino. But valentino doesn't care about angel (which is honestly normal to the lore due to him being an overlord in hell since none of the overlords in hell cares about their victims, like alastor) so he treats him like a trash BUT his character actually showed well in my opinion and that's what made me love him, he acts like an horrible person in hell in hazbin who never tried to be seen goofy in show but just bad [but his entire character is not only being bad either, he also cares for his work, has a sassy (but likeable evil way) personality imo, his type of attitudes towards others like velvette and vox and being one of the strongest overlords in the vees (according to alastor) etc. made me love him too] so that's why i love him but i always find the way fandom treats his fans or character as stupid or pathetic ngl, people can hate valentino for being bad if they want, i respect at their opinions but can you guys please stop acting like this please? (Also not the mention harassing people count as a crime too 💀)

And uhhm i ran out of what to say at this point so here is the end of my rant, bye!

#rant #hazbin hotel valentino

[iridescentis]

ALRIGTY TIME FOR EPISODE TWO THOUGHTS HERE WE GO

ah the continuation of the meet cute, very sweet but bro she is walking away calm yourself

ludmila is the cutest

so much is happening i cant keep up

ANGIE IS THE BEST <3333 MY FAVOURITE <3333 THE LOVE AND LIGHT OF MY LIFE

hey dude i think you're the weird one not her

i have no idea how to feel about the adult characters other than angie they're all so all over the place

okay fantasy montage AND A MUSICAL NUMBER

okay...you interacted for like 2 minutes max...where is this going

this song is beautiful but GIRL YOU MET HIM ONCE AND YOU LOVE HIM???

cami is an icon

PABLO YOU ARE A CARRYING THIS PLOT SIR <333

okay im dont love jade but she has a point, hiring a random woman who just said something sweet to your daughter isn't the best move??

i like that this feels less like the good guys versus bullies and more like a rivalry because they both hold their ground, i think i prefer this dynamic to the ámbar and co dynamic?? it's less one sided which is fun

francesca is also an icon

i dont know what this air drawing is but it is so cute

ANGIE AND VIOLETTA HAVE THE CUTEST DYNAMIC THEY ARE SO SWEET <3

the little 'violetta! :o'

okay my boy is dancing you are so gonna get caught by your boss dude

oh nope that's francesca

WHY IS HE IN LOVE YOU MET HER ONCE CALM DOWN

bro im gonna cry this is so sweet she just wants her mum man

DRAMAAA YES I LOVE THIS KIND OF DRAMA im sorry the secret overhearing of stuff is my favourite part

why is everyone in love with tómas i was expecting him to be the underdog character

BRO ARE YOU IN HER HOUSE????

im not sure if hallucinations or trespassing is better tbh

not a fan of the 'overprotective dad about boys' trope especially since this her dad isn't as funny about it as miguel

pablo is so <333

oh spontaneous band moment! i love that

that was so fun!

pablo is still <3333

i dont care ludmila should be able to do whatever she wants i vehemently dislike her boyfriend

are angie and pablo going to become a thing because i really hope so they are precious

I STILL DON'T LIKE HIM! YOU SUCK!!!!

ANGIE IS THE PRETTIEST I WILL CRY

awh <3

OKAY WE ARE DONE :D this is both very fast paced and also very slow burn but im loving it so far! i don't really have the time to binge it constantly like i did with soy luna (i had barely any classes to work for last time, now i have loads so </3) but will try to watch a couple per week!

#angie <33333 #i will not stop i am not sorry she is the light of my life

[karizard-ao3]

Imagine, just for the sake of imagination, Eren from a posh family who studies at a boys-only boarding school. An incorrigible troublemaker and immune from punishment due to being his parents’ favorite, younger son, Eren likes to flee from his school from time to time and trespass into the neighboring all-girls boarding school to engage in some mischief with the girls. Maybe it’s one of those religious schools run by nuns, Eren’s been caught once or twice but he’s always back for more. Some of the boys like Jean and Connie accompany him, and Eren once brings a scaredy nerdy Armin along to find out what’s like to have some fun. Then, one evening as he just climbs down one of the walls to get into the girls’ school’s grounds, he is face to face with Mikasa

I don't really vibe with lady's man Eren. I'm Team Oblivious to Girls Eren, but I do like the idea of maybe Jean being the girl crazy fuckboy who drags Eren along to the girls school to occupy the girls roommates when he goes to meet chicks. It works out perfectly for Jean because Eren is so unpleasant to spend time with (he doesn't realize when they're flirting and spends the whole time Jean is having his fun ranting about shit) that the roommates don't want to see him again and Jean's got an excuse to bounce for the next Catholic schoolgirl on his list ("oh, sorry babe, bros before hos")

This time, Jean's trying to get with Mikasa, who he's been chatting with online, so he brings Eren along to distract Mikasa's roommate, Sasha, but the second Eren sets eyes on Mikasa all bets are off. Both boys fall for her and are at each other's throats trying to get with her. Eren is ruthless, too. He's sneaking onto campus at all hours just to be near her. One day he even disguises himself as a girl to go eat lunch with her (he's so pretty he can almost pass). Jean is doing his best, but Mikasa is the one person in the world who thinks Eren is sweet and funny and he can't get her to look his way. The worst day of his life is when *Mikasa* sneaks onto the boy's campus to sleep over with Eren, who has been cleaning their dorm suite like a madman all afternoon and now Jean knows why.

Sorry, I feel like this isn't what you wanted so I'll stop there 😅

#attack on titan #eremika #ask me things #eren jaeger #my asks #answered asks #mikasa ackerman

[majachee]

Your cat ocs are like the embodiment of the warrior cats artist fan style /pos

Anyways whats the sillys name and why does yew look like roadkill ❤️❤️❤️👀

1. THANK YOU WAAAAHHHHH

2. OH. OH I THINK YOU MISUNDERSTOOD WHAT I MEANT... Yew is his name! His story takes place during the late Viking age, so his Norse name would be Ýr!

Everyone uses he/him for him in-universe, but personality-wise he wouldn't care what pronouns you use for him. So, if you want to give him neo-pronouns, go right ahead! I think it's charming! So yeah, bevause you've opened my eyes to the potential misreading, his pronouns are now "any + yew/ýr"

As for his scars? Grins...

Yew was born in a feral cat colony, one where the males (instead of being completely chased off like in IRL cat colonies) are instead trained to ward off predators like dogs, birds of prey, lynxes, wolverines, etc. They're also taught to go after aggressive, non-colony tomcats who pose a threat to the colony's kittens. Despite such expectations, they do have the choice of leaving the colony completely and going rogue.

The mollies also engage with fighting, but theyre more focused on hunting and going after trespassing cats/invaders trying to take territory. Both mollies and toms go after aggressive cats threatening their kittens, btw. The combat is all based more on defense than offense.

It's a very matriarchal colony, with a very rigid way of life and proud military values surrounding strength and honor. Mature toms and mollies without scars are seen as lackadaisical, as scars are seen as proof of victory rather than defeat or injury. If you're an outsider wanting to join, you have to win in a fight against several of the colony's strongest fighters. Not a fight to the death, mind you, all claws are sheathed during the initiation trials.

Killing is looked down upon and seen as a desperate, last resort when necessary, as all life has meaning. Maiming is definitely on the table for them, though.

Some of Yew's scars come from his life in this colony; he's very protective of his family, especially his mother, younger half-brother, and sickly cousin. The rest of the scars came from when the colony was attacked by a larger, merciless group of cats who partook in ritualistic war and bloodshed. This larger group are the main antagonists btw.

... they're also cannibals. But I won't talk about that in-depth here because that is a very touchy subject for some.

Yew was moderately lucky, despite his serious injuries, as he managed to get his cousin and brother out mostly unscatched. Now the three of them wander as nomads, going where life takes them and trying to live peacefully. They avoid other groups of cats like the plague, no need to be needlessly aggressive when you have no territory to defend and all that.

So Yew's scars come from a history of throwing himself into danger to protect his loved ones, he is a very skilled fighter due to his size (very large, even for an early norwegian forest cat-esque breed) and is very, very protective. His half-brother is also a kitten for most of the story, so he takes on a stereotypically motherly role when raising his brother.

Despite his battle scars and the culture he grew up in, he is a soft pacifist at heart and doesnt agree with some of the colony's ideals. Example being he doesn't see scars as an indicator of someone's physical strength, he views them quite neutrally actually. He doesn't like to make judgements based on appearance, rather one's actions. Spoiler but he ends up finding himself adopted into a found family-esque colony and lives the rest of his days as a kitsitter alongside his cousin and bro. He's aro/ace too btw, so he has no interest in romance. He'd absolutely adopt every orphan he sees though!

#maja needs to shut up tag #ask #anonymous #oc tag #oc yew/yr #xenofiction #tw animal death #tw animal injury #tw cannibalism #cannibalism mention #long post #oc lore #lore post #ask to tag ig lol