#just take one of the more mundane lines in the game & turn them into a fucking spectacle why won't you. Jesus christ

[skyberia]

i would like to take a moment to describe something that happens in the moralist route that drives me absolutely insane, for the sake of the people who've played through DE but cannot be bothered to be a centrist, just so you can... idk, inherit my brainrot (endgame spoilers ahead):

in the moralist route, the event quest you get for it is one where you get soona (or noid? potentially?) to help you turn the statue at the roundabout into a huge antenna to contact the moralintern airship that's flying above revachol, in order to tell them about the upcoming civil war in martinaise and/or the 2mm pale hole in the church and so on.

while you're trying to establish communications, you run into a lot of radio interference. it's a lot of people speaking in different languages, number stations, and so on, but then all of a sudden, you hear kim's voice.

"it's cold now..." he says. "... someone's been maintaining it, the wiring has been repaired..."

when you turn to look at him, kim's just as confused as you are. he insists he hasn't said anything, he doesn't know where that's coming from. it sure SOUNDS like him, but how can it be him when he's right there next to you?

soona cuts in and explains, this is just some pale interference. entroponetic crosstalk, it happens. "a particularly eerie speciment, but still just a harmless piece of the past returning to surface." and kim's like "right, i just wish i could remember what i was talking about..." that mystery solved, you resume your mission and continue trying to contact the airship.

but then, much, much later, after the tribunal, when you arrive at the island, you both walk into the seafort to find a generator. kim places his hand on it to check for warmth and then announces to you:

"it's cold now, but someone's been maintaining it. the wiring has been repaired."

neither of you acknowledge it out loud. there's no time, you have to question the suspect, you have to close the case, you have to move on. but still, inland empire reminds you, haven't you heard that before?

(and if kim doesn't make it to the island somehow, if he gets shot during the tribunal and you end up taking cuno with you, he's the one who checks the generator instead. "this shit's cold," he says. and inland empire Immediately senses that something's wrong.

"'It's cold now,' he was supposed to say. 'But someone has been maintaining it. The wiring has been repaired'..."

"But he's not here to say it. Something *else* got in the way. Events *intervened*...")

#disco elysium spoilers #de #just take one of the more mundane lines in the game & turn them into a fucking spectacle why won't you. Jesus christ #''yeah the pale contains information from the past'' And also the future. and alternate universes #but how would anyone even figure that out? how do you even verify that? haha. help #this is skipping over a lot of details btw. this is just the general gist of it. you should play the moralist quest if you have the chance #i think this counts as a halloween post. appropriately spooky shit i feel

[stickyspeckledlight]

Despite Everything, You Still Exist [Yan!Aventurine x Reader]

The short moments when the world remembers you. Hypothetical HSR voice lines based on Sunrise, Sunset, My Destroyed Body In the Onset. Can be read as standalone, though.

Notes: Lol I had some thoughts and doing this right now will mitigate my uncontrollable hype for when 2.1 is out later tonight. (From the future: lol 2.1 is out now ahaha)

Ao3

The air rings with the sound of cranking slots, spinning roulette, fallen chips, and spilled cards. Some visit for reasons outside the sound; the bar's happy hour, a good meal at the buffet, and the venue where musicians of middling to great renown play. They merely chatter amongst themselves, occasionally sparing a look to the many games at play, perhaps spending a few credits if they want to test their luck. But the ones of note are always the ones playing the game. For some, the sound of a shuffling deck of cards is as familiar as the back of their hand, and they cannot stand to be away from it for more than a day lest they live with the emptiness of their soul. Some have already accomplished much, do not know what they want anymore, and are just here to pass the time. Some are fools, believing they can strike a fortune and climb to the heavens. They feel the most, celebrating triumph and wallowing in despair alike.

But those who stand out most are those who decide to test their luck knowing of destiny's inherent unjustness.

Chat: Limits

"Most people do all they can to live within their limits. Whether it be maintaining their mundane routine, keeping to themselves, or turning away from things that pose too much risk to them. When most reach their limit, they tend to completely shut down, and give up—they dread that risk. What most people don’t realize though is that in breaking limits, you go beyond them. My friend, if you ever see someone reach their limit...pushing them past it will yield something truly special or, if you’re lucky, a destructive yet breathtaking beauty."

Chat: Lovely Things

“What do I like? Trying to gauge my weaknesses now are we? …oh? You just want to get me something out of the sheer goodness of your heart? Aw, you’re too sweet; my friend, we’ve already established such a great bond, you and I, so there is no need to exchange gifts between us! And, gift giving always does bring about jealousy; you wouldn’t want to incite that, would you? Besides, I doubt you could gift me anything lovelier than I already have.

Chat: Change

“Change is a wonderful thing! It keeps things from getting stale and predictable and is the prime ingredient for anything unexpected. Change doesn’t necessarily mean massive shifts like how most people envision, and I wholeheartedly believe one’s own self can remain consistent even with change. Speaking of changes to one’s self…heh, no matter how happy they may be as and with their changed self, a part of them will always mourn the person they used to be…even if the person of old runs counter to their changed self. Hm? A distant look in my eye? Nonsense, my friend! Just think of this as some helpful advice, free of charge. I do hope you’ll be able to put it to practice—I think we’d both hate if I were disappointed, after all.”

Casinos are ultimately reprieve, but eventually, one must return to their obligations. One can’t gamble without money, and money must be made from working. Work comes in many different forms—some work aims to increase other’s gains, some to increase its own, others to retrieve the money which is owed. These individuals are not so hard to find at the casino—like moths to a flame they aim to win with the wealth accrued by another, only to find themselves stripped of it unwittingly. It is easy to rig the game when the opponent believes they are the master. Chat: Interesting People

“My work takes me all over the place, so I get a lot of opportunities to meet all sorts of people! Granted, it’s my work that also causes a lot of meetings to not be on especially amicable terms too. And some of the people I have to deal with are…well, there’s a reason I keep a pistol with me. The best meetings though are when you’re off the clock and free to just wander about! Souvenir shopping, trying out local cuisines and experiencing its culture can be pretty nice, and it’s when me and Numby are just out and about where we meet many. I’m sure you Astral Expressers can relate to that. But, as with all things, some particularly stand out even when you don’t expect. Like, a little while ago, I finally finished a project—a big one that had some of us Stonehearts coming together—and I met this rather pleasant individual. Nice, polite, and their sense of humor wasn’t half bad; even gave me some pastries they made! A short but sweet conversation. But…there was just something…off, about them. My instincts are pretty good when it comes to these sort of things; it’s like…they were keeping themselves at a weird distance. Even though I deal with that a ton during negotiations, this time it just felt odd in a particular way, yet quite uncomfortably familiar. But it was after we said our goodbyes and I saw them again. I don’t know what happened, but then I saw the expression on their face, and…I know what that odd feeling is now. Maybe I should reach out, that guy isn’t exactly…o-oh, sorry! I got a little carried away, didn’t I? And I did sort of lead you on with starting things so lightheartedly…here, why don’t I make it up to you? A few Aetherium Wars booster packs, maybe?”

How do people lose money like this, though? Many go into the casino with the belief it is fair and just, not understanding just how rigged the game is. “Shed any and all illusions of outwitting the system,” one is told, left with nothing when they could not draw an ace of spades.

They are here because for many reasons: circumstance, unfortunate luck and their own hubris. And in that last reason lies the penultimate behind their misfortune: ignorance.

Chat: Willful Ignorance

“Ignorance is a horrid malady, but like all forms of malaise there are multiple variations. The most common is unwillful—what most think of when thinking of ignorance. Cures differ from individual to individual of course, but they tend to be the most simple affair; simple pedagogy does wonders in establishing a baseline knowledge, and for matters of great specificity or those already with baseline knowledge, a few thorough lectures are the ultimate vaccine. Willful ignorance, however, is a much different matter. Its cause is not rooted in the absence of knowledge, but of cognitive dissonance—you find it especially amongst those who have aged, already set in their ways and unwilling to engage with anything to broaden their horizons. For this, treatment must be thorough and harsh; it cannot be absolved without stripping down a patient’s worldview, lens, and grip of reality. But this is not the most vexing form. The hardest ignorance to cure is the one taken on fully aware, knowing it is false and knowing of its folly but nevertheless live by it; you look confused, so I’ll put it in simpler terms: a patient who isn’t ignorant, far from it even, but still lives their life as if they were. Curing this places patients in a rather volatile state. This ignorance is often the patient’s way of coping with a situation, when they’ve exhausted all other forms of protection. …But, I am a scholar. Advancements are not made by talking, it is through action, and eventually, I will be the one to make it. …I simply hope I can make it in time.”

But nothing lasts forever. The patrons return home, drunk or penniless, and the sound drowns out. Staff emerge from their shadows and silently do their part in crafting the honey trap, but even they must leave, and the lights are shut.

#yandere #yandere hsr #yandere aventurine #Topaz #Dr Ratio #hsr dr ratio #dr veritas ratio #veritas ratio #dr ratio hsr #hsr aventurine #hsr topaz #topaz hsr #honkai star rail #Destroyed Onset #Yandere aventurine x reader

[yandere-romanticaa]

𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐬.

❦ with the 11th harbinger constantly breathing down your neck it is impossible to lead a normal life, but, normalcy is not something you desire. you crave the blood, sweat and tears that comes with the man who wishes to claim the world all for himself.

yandere! tartaglia x gn! reader (mentions of yandere diluc x reader as well!)

Like the deep sea his eyes peer down at you, endless and challenging, the perpetual smile glued to his pink lips as he analyzes you like a predator does its prey. You gulp but do your best to mask your fear.

He notices, naturally. These are things he always sees.

"You know, there is no need for you to be so serious for a mere game of chess."

Childe chuckles as he leans back into his velvet chair, legs crossed and posture completely relaxed.

His eyes tell you a different story though.

"Every game is like a battle of sorts." says Childe as he raises his arm and claims one of your pieces as his own. You scoff but he interrupts you as you wish to speak.

"I have never been one to submit to any sort of battle, even if it is just a game."

You stare at him and do everything you can to hide the smile that wishes to creep onto your face. Yes, the man sitting in front of you was nothing short of dangerous and menacing. He was Fatui, a Harbinger of all things too. Ever since you met him he simply reeked of bloodlust and to any normal person that would have been a good sign to run for the hills and never turn back.

Not to you though.

No, you started to like him. He was eccentric and amusing, an amazing distraction from your boring, mundane life. There were so many lands to see, endless people to meet and yet you were stuck in your hometown, bound by duties and family. If you could have it your way you would pack all of your bags and leave. Childe himself even stated that he wished for you to see the place he grew up in and would reassure you that you would fit right in. He would feed you tales of battle and adventures and the manner in which he spoke made you crave it all.

He thought that it was cute, that raging fire in your eyes. Yes, show him the flames, he will gladly fan them. He loved it when you would challenge him to these little mind games, they were the highlight of his day. The fire inside of you was strong, all you needed was a little push and you would fall off the deep end, straight into his longing arms. Somewhere down the line he realized that conquering the world all by his lonesome was not quite what he wanted. It gets so lonely at the top, mainly because you are, well, alone.

Why not take you along with him?

He was ready to give you everything you could ever want, everything you could ever dream off. He became obsessed, he needed to be with you. Your smile became like a drug to him and he oh so urgently needed his next dose. The tales he would tell you were not exactly 100% true but that did not matter. Who was he to shatter your dreams and ambitions? Was he your dream and ambition? Archons, he hoped he was.

Life however, is not a game and things were not so simple.

He wanted nothing more than to sweep you off your feet and take you to his icy paradise but there was always someone in his way. No matter the time of day, Childe knew that the two of you were never alone. He could feel the pair of eyes glaring daggers at the back of his head, threatening to obliterate him on the spot if he simply breathed incorrectly. In the dark of the night he would hear footsteps, he would sometimes even see small locks of blood red hair peak from some corner, the owner of said hair was clearly watching them.

It was all on purpose. The man following you was skilled, he knew what he was doing. But so was Childe.

He wasn't lying when he said that he never submits in any battle and the battle for your heart was something he would never yield at. One way or the other he was going to get to you and there was no force in the whole entire world which could stop him. If Hell tried to swallow you, he would rip the earth in two. If Celestia tried to take you he would make himself into a god to have your hand. And if another man tried to take you he was not afraid of getting messy if need be.

Just as he was thinking to himself, Childe locked eyes with the redhead. A strange mask was covering his face but even amidst the darkness and chatter around him he could still feel the man's determination. Like two magnets the men were locked into a nonverbal standoff, quietly challenging each other to see which one will crack first. Childe reached out towards you and gently placed his hand against your own, his cold fingers gently losing themselves in the warmth of your flesh.

Yes, he was going to have you. All he needed to do was to get rid of the nuisance that dared to reveal himself. Smirking to himself, Childe sent a tiny wink to the onlooker, his message was loud and clear.

Let the games begin.

💌 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopses-sonderes, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @mayulli, @cc-6789, @yumekos-gamble, @saturnalya, @alatusprinz, @lakxcpsta, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss

Ah, the beauty of being bored in class! I haven't written anything in a while and I just thought that this would be such a fun little love triangle to explore!

#yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yanderecore #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere aesthetic #genshin impact #genshin childe #childe x reader #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader #childe #genshin #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere diluc ragnvindr #yandere diluc ragnvindr #yandere diluc x reader #yandere male #yandere genshin impact

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

I want to request an eddie fic where Jason finds out eddie has a crush on reader and maybe she's semi popular or a cheerleader. And jason calls reader over to where he's picking on eddie and says sonething like "hey. Have you heard the news? The freak has a crush on you" and she kisses eddie in front of everyone and confesses that she likes him too and jason is just stunned

Requests have resumed. You can submit yours here!

Currently writing for Eddie Munson. I write for a variety of reader inserts (male, female, gender neutral, readers of color too).

The more details you had to your request, the better it is for me. EX: “What about some fluff for Eddie after he’s had a long day?”

Feel free to look through my masterlist here!

Eddie Munson x Female Reader. 

CW: Some name calling/bullying. 

_____________________________

Eddie know he's being obvious. He should truly tattoo the truth on his forehead. But he tries to give the passing decency that he’s not this deep into the hook and line. Eddie tries to pretend he is not sinking. Whenever you pass him in the hallways, he tries hard not to follow you the entire length of it. 

This all started a year ago, when you moved into town moving in from the city. He’s not sure what caused the move though the town rumors are your mother begged for the change of scenery to stop a wandering eye of your father. But Eddie doesn’t buy into small town gossip. 

He doesn’t have to imagine the bullshit they say about him. He hears it every day and the last thing he wants is to stoop as long as them. So he didn’t think about what the reason what. He only thanked the gods that you did land here in Hawkins. You sat next to him on the first day of school, even asked him if he had a pencil you could borrow. 

Eddie cursed himself when he had to tell you no, but he waltzed over to Mrs. Bakers desk, batted his lashes and got one for you. You laughed at the way Eddie leaned into the edge of the desk, fingers twirling a pencil in the mug she had on her desk. When Eddie returned to you, pencil in hand, he gave you a small smile. “Secured just for you.”

And from the second he heard your laugh, Eddie was a goner. 

He wasn’t supposed to go anywhere--Eddie was supposed to graduate that year. You were supposed to just be the girl that Eddie had a crush on and that maybe flirted with if the heavens would be that gracious. But it’s just supposed to be a fleeting things. 

Now he’s year, repeating his senior year and the fleeting crush burns brighter in his gut every second he sees you. At lunch, if Eddie is behind you in the line, he leans in closer, asking what you think is best off the menu for today. You always laugh. “Let’s add a fruit to that skinny pale you call a lunch,” you tease back. 

It’s entirely obvious. 

So Jason Carver really doesn’t need to slide up behind him now on a Friday, which had been rather mundane, and start a scene. 

“Oh, please, not the freak flirting with you. You can tell him no, you know? If he doesn’t take a hint, let me show you how a real man should treat you and intervene,” Jason spits. 

You scoff and move your tray down the line. “So, Eddie, why don’t I ever see you at the games?” 

Jason had been trying to get with you every since you showed up, but he wasn’t your type. Or he was the type you’d go for at your old school, but Jason always felt like he was a predator, stalking you to seize a praise where Eddie also seemed to keep a distance. Sure you could tell he liked you but he never imposed. He inched in momentarily to make a joke and then just as quickly as you could blink your eyes, he was gone again in the distance. You couldn’t tell if it was just shyness or if Eddie was just like that as a person. But you enjoyed having a slower pace, you got to spend more time feeling Eddie out rather than jumping in immediately to things. 

Eddie turns the heated glare from Jason towards you. His heart nearly skips a beat when he remembers you’re in the cheerleading outfit, the skirt barely brushing the first half of your thighs and the tank exposing your midriff. He’ve forgone your sweater--one that Eddie had seen you wearing earlier. “Sports, well, sports aren’t really my thing. I’m much more into intellectual games.”

You giggle for just a moment and then Jason shoves into Eddie’s back. Eddie mindful of you in front, takes the loss of the milk carton to the floor between your feet and slips an arm around your waist to keep you from hitting the metal railing. Eddie does manage to break your sure fire hip bruise and even keeps your tray up on the railing in the process too. 

“Watch it freak!” Jason hisses. 

“You okay?” Eddie asks you. 

You nod, one hand subconsciously reaching for the chain on his jeans. You reach for it to keep you steady and also because it’s pressing into your thigh and the chill of the building has settled into the metal as well. It almost stings against your skin. “Yeah, you?”

“Peachy,” Eddie smiles down at you. 

“News flash, freak, you really need to watch where you’re going. You’re pathetic with your gawking,” Jason presses on. 

Eddie realizes now Jason is just trying to pick a fight. As the new school year crept on, it felt more obvious to Eddie too that maybe you liked him back. But he still never pushed it. He’d be out of here soon enough. It would never work with him. It would always be fleeting. But now, as Jason seethes down Eddie’s back, Eddie wonders if Jason’s mood is less at the fact that you don’t like Jason and more ten times more pissy because it’s Eddie who you actually like back. 

Eddie’s learned in his years that sometimes not giving in is much more effective. So once Eddie is sure you’re stable, he nods on. “Why don’t you pick a fruit I’ll add to the skinny pale I call a lunch box?”

Your smile dances over your lips. “I’d say sun, because you’re so pale but why don’t we get some potassium in you today.”

“Potassium sounds good to me.”

“And,” you add on, the hand on his chain, trailing up to his neck. Eddie eyes widen and he nearly rears back out of your grasp, but you push up and capture his lips just fast enough to keep him from totally pull away from him. Eddie whimpers into your mouth--as embarrassing as it is, but it is his first kiss that is not game induced or alcohol riddled. It’s a real kiss.

So real it’s got his toes curling in his Reeboks. He feels like a child. The way he wants to whimper again because you’re still kissing him. The point would’ve been made with even just a simple peck. But you’re still holding onto the back of his head, you’re still pulling him even further into you. Eddie’s hands which had been hovering over your skin, dig in just a little on your waist and he tugs you into his body too. 

Your lips finally part, a little wet from the kiss. “And some vitamin kisses too,” you whisper. 

“Oh my god,” Eddie whispers. It is not the thing to say after a kiss. It’s not. And neither is, “I think I died.”

You snort at Eddie’s confession and the cross of his eyes as he buckles just a little in your hold. He catches his own weight but you get arms under his pits, laughing as you. “Eddie, get serious,” you laugh. 

He stands erect again. “Seriously--what was that?”

“I like you too, Eddie.”

It’s five words but Eddie swears they light his skin on fire. “Would-do-a date?” he stumbles out. 

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes--if you want,” he adds on quickly. “Movies? Do you want to go to the movies?” He realizes now he didn’t properly get the question out as his brain is still lagging behind after the kiss. 

“I’d love to go to the movies. Tomorrow?”

Eddie nods. “Yes, sure. Uh, can I call you later after looking in the paper about the releases?”

“I would be disappointed otherwise. I’ll look too, yeah?”

“Sounds good.”

You reach for the fruit, which you know you’ve been standing in front of for far too long by the pursed lips of the lunch lady and hand Eddie the banana you’d teased about earlier. He laughs but takes it with a wink. When you look at Jason, he’s pushing out of the lunch line and heading for the side doors to th cafeteria. You’re not sure how much he saw, but you hope it was everything so he’ll finally get the hint. 

Eddie walks you to your table. He hovers for a moment unsure if it’s too much but the end he goes for a peck on your cheek and then flies over to the table he normally sits. You catch the wind of his run pushing his hair up and laugh as his friends greet him with enthusiasm, hands slapping on his back. 

Saturday can’t come quick enough. 

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #h writes #stranger things

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Walmart Superstore: An Endless' Nemesis

Walmart Superstore: An Endless' Nemesis: Morpheus decides to tag along with you to Walmart when you run errands.

Warnings: One Mopey Ass Endless.

To Note: Morpheus x Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

You didn’t know what was more comical, the expressions flashing across Morpheus’ face as you walked towards the entrance of your local Walmart… or the fact that a mighty Endless wanted to shopping with you. Especially one as regal and prideful. There really was no need for him to come, you were just running errands, picking up cleaning supplies, toilet paper, a birthday present for your neighbor… you didn’t understand why he had wanted to come. It was a menial task. Mundane. Mortal. So why had the Endless insisted that he accompany you to the superstore when you knew he had better things to do?

You stole another look at Morpheus while collecting a small basket to hold your would be items. He was staring at the corral of blue shopping carts in confusion.

“They’re just shopping carts,” You point out, slipping the basket onto your arm. Morpheus blinked and looked at you with an inquisitive look. “You know… to put the stuff you’re gunna buy in while you’re walking around? Makes it a lot easier when you don’t have to carry all your stuff.”

“Is it necessary for them to be so large?” He asked, blue eyes dropping to the small basket hanging off your arm. “Your choice is far smaller and more reasonable.”

“Because I am only getting a few things.” You said with a shrug, moving in the direction of the cleaning aisle. “I’m not getting an entire cart full of stuff today, so the basket will do just fine. Come on, stay close unless you want to come across a Karen in the wild.” Morpheus didn’t understand what you meant by that, or what a Karen was… was Karen not a mortal name? You spoke of it as if it were a creature instead. That thought dissipated as a large man trundled past, wearing a shirt three times too small, little ‘shorts’ and bright pink flip flops. Another fashion trend he would have to inquire about. The Endless lost interest, and silently followed after you.

The many items lining the shelves passed were all odd to the being and held little interest. Mortals invented the most menial of objects at times. You turned down an aisle and blatantly ignored a couple arguing over a box of… something. Cereal. Their thoughts were loud and obtrusive, echoing painfully within Morpheus’ mind. To you, the argument was just another trip to Walmart. You didn’t bat an eyelash when one hit the other with a box, and proceeded past the aisle of human food to the next.

You eyed the Endless silently trailing beside you. He was in his usual silence but you could see his eyes taking in everything with curiosity. Or maybe disdain? It was sometimes a guessing game with Morpheus for at times he was enchanted with mortal inventions and others, he curled his lip at. Walmart was definitely not a place high on his intimate interests. You’d better make this trip quick lest his broodiness start having a physical effect on the shoppers.

 Running through your mental checklist, you turned down the cleaning aisle and began looking for  disinfectant spray for your kitchen. It was relatively easy to find the brand you used and you dropped the bottle into your basket as Morpheus examined the plethora of choices.

“There are many options, how have you decided on that one?” He enquired, eyes glossing over the many bottles before settling on your face. You shrugged.

“Dunno, I just go with what’s cheap and grew up with.” You answered. You’d never put too much thought into your choice, it was just cleaner. You didn’t need anything fancy, just something that worked. Toilet paper was next. You’d run out after the local elementary school had roped you into helping mummify the Principal. It’d been fun and hilarious, but the event had taken every last roll of  toilet paper you had in the house. You wandered in the direction of the tissue aisle and picked up  what you needed. By now you were on autopilot, forgetting the fact that you had an Endless trailing behind you, perplexed by the all the choices there were of the same item.

All you had left was to get your neighbor a birthday present. Susan had lived next to you in a cute little stone house. She’d lived in that house for at least forty years and was just starting to get around to renovating the place. Her kitchen had been the latest job and you knew that she had been wanting a good coffee maker for the longest time, but always used an ancient one that you could have sworn was from the early 90s just because it still worked.

It was time for a new one.

So you wandered down the small appliance aisle, looking at the models and trying to figure out which one Susan would like best. She was older, so she didn’t need something fancy. Just something that worked and was easy to set up. You were stuck between two models, eyes flickering back and forth while you tried to decide which one to go with, when an announcement over the intercom had your eyes going wide.

 “Y/N Y/L/N, your beloved is at register 10.” What on earth? You were confused to say the least, not quite understanding why an announcement would be made like that. Then you realized something. Morpheus was no longer lingering behind you, silently judging every little thing. You spun in a half circle, searching for the Endless but to no avail, you could not find him!

Good god, the announcement was for you!

Leaving the small appliance aisle, you hurried towards the front of the store while you mind went into overdrive. Beloved? That word was definitely part of Morpheus’ vocabulary and not one that most if any mortals would use. So only one being could potentially be considered your ‘beloved’. … but since when had that happened? You shook your head as you emerged from the depths of the superstore to see the line of registers all normal. One glance at register ten however, and you nearly face palmed yourself.

Morpheus was standing by it with the most despondent pout upon his lips, in a desolate mope that seemed to make a cloud of depression hang around where he stood. You were flabbergasted and wondering what the hell had upset him this time when you approached him. The moment Morpheus saw you approaching, the cloud of dreary darkness dissipated above his head. But not the pout or mope.

“You left me,” He accused you when you approached him, making a dramatic scene to show just how upset he was. “Why did you abandon me?” You opened your mouth to fire back that you simply had just wanted to get your shopping done and weren’t used to having someone with you, but the look within his eyes made you falter. He really did look devastated.

“Okay, first off, I didn’t leave you on purpose,” You informed him, coming to a stop in front of him. “I was just trying to get my shopping done as fast as possible,” He glowered at you and you sighed with a roll of your eyes. “You are making it seem like I intentionally ditched you!”

“It feels as if you did.” He declared, his eyes glimmering pitifully as he loomed over you. “Do you not care for me anymore? Is this you showing me that you no longer wish for my company?? Are you finally casting me aside!?”

“What? No!” You exclaimed, face palming yourself. Where the hell was this coming from!? “Oh my god, Morpheus! I just forgot okay!? I am in no way telling you to leave!” That seemed to abate the watery look in his eyes. You reached for his hand, determined to hold it until you were done shopping and leaving. The last thing you needed was for him to have a meltdown in Walmart. “Come on, I’ve just got to pick out a coffee maker for Susan.”

Pulling him along, you were oblivious to the Endless now basking in the feeling of you grasping his hand. Your fingers were warm and comforting against his cold ones. Arriving back at the small appliance aisle, you retook your position between the coffee makers and gave them one last look. The one on the left looked most Susan friendly, so you’d get that one. Setting your basket down so you didn’t have to break the handhold with Morpheus (because heaven forbid you did), you picked up one of the boxes and put it in your basket. You then picked the basket up and looked at Morpheus.

“Now I am done, we just need to check out and then we can leave.” You told him, watching as he blinked at you. “Okay?”

“Very well,” Morpheus answered, maintaining his grasp upon your hand. His brief moment of complete devastation and despondency was gone from his facial features like it had never happened. Clearing your throat, you began walking back towards the registers, noticing how tightly the Endless held your hand. When you arrived up front, much to your dismay, the only register that was available  and not backed up was register 10. Oh well. It wasn’t like you toted an Endless man-child around with you every time you shopped at Walmart. So you got in line and tried to ignore that stares of several old ladies congregating around the magazines.

When it was your turn to pay, you did so quickly, trying to get out of there as fast as possible. Just as you were grabbing your bag and pulling Morpheus away from the narrow lane, an elderly woman spoke up.

“Oh don’t you two just look so cute together! Calling each other beloved! You don’t see a love like that every day.” Your face burned with heat that bloomed just beneath your skin and you all but dragged Morpheus to the exit.

“Only at Walmart. Only at Walmart.” You chanted to yourself as you fled. You and Morpheus would definitely be having a conversation when you got home because there was no way you were going to be able to function properly without knowing what exactly the Endless being saw your relationship as. “Only at Walmart.”

Date Published: 6/29/23

Last Edit: 6/29/23

Dream of the Endless Masterlist

#morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream the endless x reader #lord morpheus #sandman x reader #morpheus #the sandman netflix #dream of the endless #dream the endless #the sandman

[pearlparty]

Mundanity:  An October Sunday Morning

Austin x Reader

Summary:  A little peak into a brief moment of calm on a Sunday where Austin romanticizes his life with his favorite girl and sensually puts lotion on her legs to give him an edge in their little game of teasing.

Warnings:  Tooth rotting fluff, brief descriptions of memories of sex (not graphic), brief strong language, teasing, Austin is a simp lord, finger guns (yes this is a warning), sweater paws, they’re so in love it’s disgusting

Word Count:  5k

Note:  This is in 3rd person because it’s entirely from Austin’s POV because I love to write men who are such simps, BUT it’s technically a reader fic.  Also, the reader’s descriptions are super vague, but I did briefly mention cellulite and stretch marks because a lot of people have them and they’re not size exclusive.  Also, I’m debating making this a kind of series/collection where it’s just little snapshots of the little mundane and domestic things in life can be made special.  And it wouldn’t be for just these two since I’d love to write for his other characters and stuff.  So lmk if you’d like to see that.

Sunday mornings were a contented sigh breathed after a long and arduous week.  Tranquility seemed to seep into the apartment on the sunbeams that peaked through the blinds and bounced off the cream walls in the master bedroom.  The houseplant in the corner next to the nightstand welcomed the light, stretching towards the window with open arms, eager to start the new day with a dose of sunshine.  A soft birdsong gently coaxed the city from its slumber, almost as though its singer was saying, “A new day has begun. Relax and rise with the sun--take your time, darling.” 

Austin loved these moments.  Their serenity became an anticipated standstill in his hectic life, a chance to just… exist.  Maybe savor the little mundane moments with the love of his life on the other side of his bed.

No alarm clock, no pressing appointments.  Just greeting the day with a lazy smile as his eyes slowly opened.  Everything always seemed to be moving so fast that taking time to breathe out his dreams and lay with his thoughts for a while became a necessity to wind down from the week’s stress.  

He’d turn over slowly and peek at the breathtaking girl lying next to him.  He was never in a rush to take her in.  Even in her sleeping state—face squished against her pillow, wild hair, and the small line of drool coming from her mouth—all he wanted to do was bask in her presence.  He loved her soft snores or the way that she’d breathe out a peaceful moan and nuzzle into her pillow when repositioning in the morning, like her body was begging, “just five more minutes, please.”

Sometimes, he’d still be half asleep and reach out to hold her hand, leisurely wrapping his fingers around her tiny fist in a loose grip.  Just enough contact to let her know that he was there, but not enough to wake her up.  Usually, she’d hold his hand, too, and press a sleepy kiss to his thumb as they both fell back asleep in the early hours of the morning.

Spooning all night wasn’t as comfortable as it had been in the honeymoon phase. Romance is not always practical, no matter what the storybooks say.  It left Austin waking up with pain tingling in a dead limb, or their combined body heat under the sheets and comforter woke her in the middle of the night drenched in sweat.  

Most nights started out with their arms around each other to enjoy each other’s warmth, breaths slowing, heart beats syncing, and just before succumbing to the pull of sleep, one would press a kiss to the other before letting go, still close enough to brush against each other if they wanted.  Neither thought poorly of the other because of it--sleep’s a selfish thing and it can’t be helped that always sleeping on top of another person is slightly uncomfortable.  

Besides, little touches like entwining their pinkies or running fingers over shoulders almost meant more because, even under the spell of dreams, their souls always found a way to connect.  It was like nothing would keep them apart.  

This soft morning, however, Austin kept his hands firmly planted under his pillow and his stomach pressed to the mattress as he looked her over.  Savoring the way the mellow light caressed her features, and cherishing the way her scent clung to his skin soothed his appetite for contentment more than a simple touch ever could.  The dark gray sheets still tangled around her bare form, light fabric kissing her skin in the cool morning air creeping in through the ajar window across the room.  He could trace each and every curve of her body with his fingers if he wanted to reach out and touch her; perhaps he’d allow himself to and confirm that she really was lying in their bed and not a dream--a dream he feared he could wake from at any moment.  She was an angel gracing him with her presence, and if he dared indulge his selfish desires and graze her cheek with his hand, she might disappear, ascend back to the holier plane. 

Memories of their firsts, their most recents, and everything in between swirled around his brain.  Heat crawled up his face, igniting a light blush on his cheeks as he recalled the night before.  Flashes of hastened kisses, eager hands, and moans of praise flitted through his mind.  Oh, how he wanted to wake his love, remind her of his affections; she had him completely bewitched, willing to do anything and everything to make her happy.

Perhaps later.  Now, he’d let his angel sleep.

He pushed his body to his elbow and leaned toward her.  His lips slowly, gently, grazed over her hairline.  “I love you,” he whispered.  He lingered a second too long, too eager to touch her soft skin; she let out an untroubled sigh, rolling into his touch.  He couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not, but a smile crept to his face nonetheless.  Maybe he’d just kickstarted her journey back to reality from her dreams.  

After loosening the grip of the sheets around his bare legs, he rose from the bed, careful not to jostle the mattress and disturb her.  He padded over to the attached bathroom and the cold marbled floor tile sent a brief shock up his spine at the stark contrast to the warmth in his bed.  Running a hand through his wild curls, Austin paused to take a look at himself in the mirror after he turned on the shower.  A chuckle rumbled in his throat as his eyes wandered over the small red love bites littering his collarbones and neck, not regretting a single one.  Sure, he’d probably have to wear a sweater to avoid the endless teasing that his family would inevitably dish out at dinner tonight, but he didn’t mind having the little reminders on his chest.  They might as well have been little I Love You’s tattooed to his skin.  

He’d already showered and wrapped a towel around his waist by the time she woke.  He could see his angel’s eyes idly blinking open as he flipped on the light in their shared large walk-in closet adjacent to the steamed-up bathroom.  Austin’s tall dresser sat at the back with a variety of his toiletries--deodorant, cologne, jewelry, etc.--sitting on top.  

Despite having an only slightly smaller array of clothes in his wardrobe, he’d opted for the right side of the closet as it had fewer racks and less shelf space so she could have more room for her things even if some of the space was left barren.  He’d joked that it was just an excuse to spoil her with a shopping spree, and she laughingly insisted that she didn’t need him to buy her any more clothes because 1) she could afford it herself, and 2) she didn’t need more items in her wardrobe.

He’d ended up doing it anyway.  What?  He loved spoiling her!  Besides, he loved the way she looked in baby blue, and her wardrobe had frighteningly little of that color, so he just had to rectify that.  And what’s a baby blue wrap dress without a pair of strappy heels and some pretty lingerie to match underneath?  

The light breeze from the window cooled his wet skin, the water droplets on his shoulders stealing his body heat suddenly sending chills down his spine in a gentle reminder that autumn was in the air.  

He could hear the blankets shift in the bedroom as she stretched her rested muscles.  The yawn she let out in the master echoed off the hardwood floors.  He busied himself putting on a pair of black boxers before throwing his towel over the open closet door so it could dry. 

Just as he reached for his deodorant, a soft pair of lips slowly caressed his shoulder, a warm contrast to the chilled droplets dripping down his shoulder blades.  The same smile from earlier returned to his face when her small hands wrapped around his bicep and opposite shoulder as she peppered his muscles with gentle kisses.  

“Mornin’, baby,” he rasped, pleased with her greeting.  He loved the feeling of her lips on his skin.  Her hands slid down his back and slowly snaked around his bare waist, engulfing him in her loving embrace.  Austin could feel the soft silky fabric of her robe pressed into his body, and when he looked down, sure enough, the flowy sleeves were covering her forearms.  Dammit.  He’d thought that she’d get up in the nakedness she’d slept in and give him more of a show this morning.  His digits wound around her wrist near his belly button, his thumb rubbing back and forth over the delicate flesh.

“Mornin’,” she hummed.

“Sleep okay?” he asked, but he already knew the answer.  She was worn out by the time they finally slept in their bed--he’d made damned sure of that.  He could picture the heat rising in her cheeks as she tried to hide her small smile.  

“Mmm mhm,” she sighed.  She wasn’t fully coherent yet; it always took her a while to rouse her faculties completely.  Her hands untangled from his as she pulled away a little, allowing her fingers to graze his sides and tease the waistband of his boxers.  He craned his neck to get a better look at her over his shoulder, meeting her half lidded gaze.  

“Yeah, slept real good,” she added, the sleep lining her voice gradually sloughing off with each word.  The corner of her mouth rose to a half smile and he couldn’t determine if it was from contentment or mischief.  

Her soft touches to his back suddenly traveled lower until she pinched his ass with a chuckle.

“Hey!”  he yelped, not missing her cheeky smirk when he turned to her with a grin. Definitely mischief in her eyes, then.  What was she up to this morning?

He snatched her small figure into his arms, pressing her closely to his chest with his hands firmly around her waist, eyes raking over her robe clad form--the tie hung loosely on her hips, the purple silky fabric barely covering her breasts and convening just below her belly button. 

“Watch it, young lady,” he playfully chastised.  Her head cocked to the side, eyebrow quirked up, and before he knew it her hands were on his butt again with a gentle squeeze before settling at the bottom of his spine.  That brought a full laugh to his chest.  “Is that all I am to you?  A piece of ass?”

“Mmm, yeah,” she giggled.  He couldn’t help but roll his eyes and plant a kiss on her nose.  Contentment swelled in his chest--nothing could possibly ruin this moment, ass objectification and all.  His heart made a silent plea to the universe:  please stop time and let us freeze this moment forever.  Let us frame it and put it on our mantle and revisit on cold nights and melancholy mornings.  All of the mundanity of waking up and getting ready together… it pleased him to no end, gifted from the gods.  He took a mental screenshot of it all:  the lighting, the cool air, the soft silk beneath his fingertips, her mussed hair, the way her eyes sparkled with a little sleep lingering in the corners, and her soft kissable lips smiling up at him.  

Her hand trailed lightly across his side and stomach before softly caressing the marks she’d left last night, clearly proud of her handiwork--or would it be mouth-iwork?  A quiet sigh left his lips as she delicately pressed an agonizingly unhurried kiss to a love bite on his clavicle.  She maintained her pace and made her way up to plant another one to his pulse.  His grip on her hips tightened marginally, but she seemed to take notice and it only spurred her on.  

He sucked in a breath, eyes closing to better focus on her touch.  She raised up on her toes to press one more to his jawbone right below his ear, her hand settling at the base of his throat just above his collarbones.  It was a gentle touch, not an ounce of pressure applied.  To anyone else, her hand rested there to provide balance while on her tiptoes, but he knew better.  It was heavenly.  A low hum reverberated in his chest at the contact.  

Yes, please, keep going, darlin’.  

Her satin lips ghosted along his jawline, stopping just short of his own mouth.  His eyes fluttered open.  Her other hand made its way from his back to his face at a leisurely pace before her thumb grazed over his supple lower lip and lightly gripped his chin.  She pulled him closer to her ever so slightly, and he prepared to meet her halfway with a kiss when she suddenly halted his advances with a firm, albeit gentle, push at the base of his neck.  

“Mm.  I’m gonna go take a shower,” her eyes shot down to his lips, her sensual body language contradicting the nonchalance in her voice as though she wasn’t just barely feeling him up and working him into a tizzy.  

His sweet, innocent little angel had swapped out her harp and halo for a pitchfork and horns.

Oh, so we’re teasing now, huh?  She dropped back down to her regular height, retracting her hands and leaving Austin hanging.  “I feel positively filthy after last night.”  Her salacious tone dripped over him like honey, and he chewed on his lip.  

Yeah, she definitely wasn’t wearing her halo now.  That devilish look told him everything he needed to know:  she wanted to ditch the innocence and wings and do a little sinning.

“Filthy, huh?” he shot back, just as insinuating.  She threw him a wink when she started strutting away.  Before she could get too far, he brought his hand down and gave her ass a quick swat, sending a smirk of his own in her direction.  She giggled at the contact as she sauntered out of the closet, aware of his eyes burning along her curves.  Accentuating the sway in her delicious hips just a little more to keep his attention--she knew exactly how to drive him mad.  

Her manicured fingers scraped down the door frame as she finally left his sight, but, like a show girl leaving the stage, she teased her audience by theatrically tossing her robe in front of the closet door, leaving everything to his raunchy imagination.

Little devil.  He shook his head and chewed on his cheek with a chuckle.  They both loved the game, the chase, and light teasing had quickly become one of their favorite ways to keep each other on their toes.  They loved to sprinkle it between mundane tasks.  One moment would be completely innocent, and then sexually charged for a split second before settling back to normal.  It wasn’t so much that they’d dismiss the moment as it was that neither would openly acknowledge it--there’d be plenty of time for that later.  The build-up was part of the fun.

The low roar of the water cascading from the showerhead and hitting the tiled floor pulled him from his thoughts and signaled him to actually get ready for the day.  He settled on a navy jumper over a white tee and jeans to accommodate the October weather.  The sleeves were a little long on him, which was mildly surprising considering his long lanky limbs, but he didn’t mind.  The closely knit fabric draped comfortably over his arms in a loose fit that made it feel homier and more autumnal, even if they did engulf his palms.  His fingers were long enough, anyway, that it didn’t really cause a problem for him.  

He ran a hand through his hair as he padded into the bathroom again where he could hear a light melody coming from the shower.  She often hummed subconsciously when completing simple mindless tasks.  

Ah, he thought, ‘must be a hair-washing and leg-shaving day.  

She continued her light humming as he brushed his teeth, leaning into the white countertop as he hovered over the sink.  He recognized the tune, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it.  Where had he heard it before?  His brow furrowed as he tried to place it, following the melody’s notes and beat with his head.  Suddenly, it dawned on him.  

“Are you singing the song from the Chick Fil A commercials?” he laughed out, minty suds still frothing on his tongue.  Her musical giggle echoed off the tile and sent a spark of warmth to his chest. 

“It’s stuck in my head!” she confirmed before wordlessly continuing the same series of notes and pauses.  He spits and rinses the white bubbles from his toothbrush.

“I thought the cottage cheese one was your favorite,” he teased, recalling the time he’d caught her absentmindedly singing it to herself in the bread aisle at the store.  

Without hesitation, she proceeded to belt the jingle.  

“Only Daisy’s Cottage Cheese will do!” she sang the phrase twice, and he couldn’t hold back his snicker. “Satisfying and fresh, so creamy and delish!” 

 “Noooooo!” he dramatically lamented, cheeks hurting from his grin, as he grabbed the mousse from the drawer to style his hair--it’s so unruly when he doesn’t put product in it.

“It’s gonna be stuck in my head all day now!” he jested as he spread the mousse on his hands.  

Even with the frosted shower door obscuring her naked form, he knew she was doing a little dance as she got to the last line, drawing out the last note in a satisfying finish with another light giggle as he raked the product through his curls.  “Only Daisy’s Cottage Cheese!”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, ya know that?”  he chuckled again.

“Oh, c’mon you love it!”  

“Hm. Suuuurrrreeee.”

Truth is, he did.  Not the jingles--he hated that they’d always pop into his head at the most inconvenient times and he wouldn’t be able to get rid of them for hours.  But he loved how she teased him and made him laugh.  He loved listening to her voice, even if it wasn’t always perfectly on-key with the songs.  He loved laughing with her.  She really was his best friend, and if that meant enduring a few annoying jingles, then so be it.  Not that he’d tell her that--she’d never let him hear the end of it.  Then again, knowing him, he’d probably love that, too.

God, he was so whipped.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of them as he manipulated his wavy locks to look presentable, allowing a couple stray strands to coil and fall loose on his forehead in a Superman curl.  After wiping his fingers of the product, he pulled his hand over his chin and the faint goatee he’d been sporting over the past couple days.  Was it time for a shave?  It was getting a little longer than he normally kept it, but he found that the look was, if you’ll pardon the pun, growing on him.  He grabbed his electric razor from the drawer and ran it over the hair, deciding it best to trim it just a little to a short manageable stubble.  He pulled back to admire his work.  

Yeah, he looked good.  A bit of pride inflated his ego--more than it probably should have, but he’d never admit it. Maybe it was just because he woke up happy on a beautiful morning with his gorgeous girl and some light teasing after a night of mind-blowing sex.  Who wouldn’t be on top of the world?

His finger guns shot himself in the mirror with a wink as he clicked his tongue.  

Yeah, I still got it.

A snort sounded behind him, and he quickly dropped his hands as saw his lover stepping out of the shower with her hand covering her mouth to prevent her full laugh from escaping.  He hadn’t even noticed her turn off the water and wrap the towel around her torso.

Oh, damn.    

Ego: deflated.  

Heat flooded his cheeks, crawling into his ears and setting them ablaze.  Suddenly, his jumper almost felt a little too warm.  There was no salvaging the situation. He’d been caught doing the most uncool thing a person could do, so he settled on sending her a sheepish grin and clasping his hands in front of him.  Quite awkwardly.

“Oh my god,” she started, a laugh edging its way into her voice, “I can’t believe you just did that!”  she giggled, shaking her head with a sweet sigh.  “Oh, you’re absolutely adorable.”  She quickly added the last part, eyes taking in his slowly relaxing stance.  

“Yeah, I guess you can say I’m the epitome of cool.” He ran his hand over the nape of his now burning neck.  Better to laugh it off with some sarcasm than to do nothing.

“Oh definitely,” she affirmed as she turned away, passing gracefully into the closet and leaving him with his embarrassment.

He spared himself another tentative glance in the mirror, a quiet chuckle bubbling up his throat.  He shrugged it off, taking a couple minutes to adjust his sweater and the gold necklace under it before heading back to the master bedroom.

He didn’t expect to lean on the doorframe or watch her for so long, but he’d become so enamored with the scene before him that he couldn’t tear his eyes away.  

She sat on their bed, towel discarded and traded in for her underwear:  a blue bra and panty set from their shopping spree.  Droplets from her wet hair dusted her shoulders as she leaned over to grab her beige bottle of lotion, depositing a few pumps of it into her palm.  She’d just spread it on her hands and began rubbing it over her forearms and shoulders when she made eye contact with him through her lashes.  

“You gonna keep leering at me and leaning on the door like a slut, or is there something I can do for you?”  she baited, a smirk lining her lips.  The lightness in her tone let him know she didn’t mind--if anything, this was another way for her to goad him into some kind of trap where she’d leave him hanging again.  

Not this time.

“No, but there’s something I can do for you,” he said casually, pulling his lips between his teeth as he stalked towards her, not breaking eye contact.  Her hands stuttered their circular motions on her triceps.  She raised her brows, expecting him to follow up his statement with some kind of action. 

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the lotion.  She furrowed her brow for a moment as her eyes flitted from the bottle, back to him, then down at her legs briefly before the realization hit her.  She glanced up to meet his eyes as she nodded.

“Go ahead, Mr. Finger Guns.”  He looked down and shook his head with a grin.

“I’m never gonna live that down, am I?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hm.”

He sank to his knees and settled to the floor at her feet, slowly dragging the back of his index finger up her shin and over knee as he reached for the lotion.  He’d nearly put a dollop of the creamy stuff on his hands when--

“Oh hold on,”  she said abruptly, reaching out to his wrists and tugging at the navy sleeves nearly swallowing his hands.  “You’re going to get it all over your sweater!”  Her nimble fingers folded the sleeves back once, twice into a neat cuff.  The proper length a sleeve should be.  “There.”  She patted his wrists before setting hers back on the bed.

“Thank you, baby,” he murmured.  His ocean eyes flicked up to hers momentarily for permission as he picked up the lotion again, and when she nodded, he put a few pumps on his hands before turning his attention to the work at hand.  

Gingerly, he took her left ankle in his hand, spreading the moisturizer over the back of her freshly shaved calf, his fingers splaying over the skin and applying just enough pressure to spread the satiny salve and massage the muscle simultaneously.  

He leaned forward with a feather light kiss to the inside of her knee before slipping his left hand over it toward her hip.  Her breath hitched and he had to hold back a smirk.  She wasn’t the only one who knew how to put on a show.

His right hand slid up the back of her leg as the other one guided her knee over his shoulder, the movement reminiscent of last night.  He knew it and she knew it--he could tell by the nearly imperceptible shudder in her breath.  His eyes fell shut on their own accord as he brushed his cheekbone up the soft flesh of her knee and inner thigh as his hands roamed the expanse of her skin.  

He easily recalled her whiny pleas, the way she rolled her hips into his face and pulled his hair, and her taste on his tongue with his name falling from hers in a prayer.  For a brief moment, he debated doing it all again:  giving in to the sinful thoughts running rampant through his head and ending their little game earlier than expected.

But where’s the fun in that?

Instead, he languidly kissed his way down to her ankle and put a respectful distance between them.  Clearing the sexually charged air for only a moment seemed necessary as he resupplied from the bottle and repeated the sensual process on her other leg.  

Just as slow.  Just as intimate.  

When he reached her knee, he spared a glance up at his lover, hoping for some flash of pleasure to cross her features as she looked to the heavens in bliss, a smile, a sigh, a gasp--any morsel of praise that he could greedily drink down and guard close to his heart.  Instead, he met her adoring gaze, which was just as delicious.  His soft smile met hers.  A tiny palm cupped his cheek, and again his eyes fell shut as he leaned into her soft touch, enjoying the way her thumb tenderly brushed over his skin.  

He pressed his lips into the inside of her wrist with as much devotion and endearment he had in his old, romantic, smitten soul. I love you, he nuzzled each word into her skin, praying she could feel him branding the phrase into his lips and sealing it with a kiss.  I love you, I love you, I love you.  

His fingers continued their work kneading circles into the meat of her thigh, over the almost indiscernible hills and valleys that he didn’t know were cellulite, exploring the entirety of her skin.  Despite knowing each and every curve by heart, he wanted to map every inch of her--each scar, stretch mark, mole, and freckle.  Again and again and again.  

Right up to the hem of her panties, that is. 

He pulled away from her reluctantly, his hands trailing back down to her ankles before he went back to the bottle for just a little more.  The way her eyes kept flicking over his kneeling form and how she subconsciously gnawed on her lower lip was not lost on him.  Good, that meant he was doing his job right.

He held her gaze intently as he closed the distance between them, his fingers splaying their way over her hips--he took the moment to gently lean her back, teasing her with the close proximity of their lips, but keeping her pressed into the mattress.  His touch traveled across her stomach, her waist, and her sides, his thumbs grazing just barely beneath the band of her bra.  She squirmed underneath him, sliding her hands up his shoulders and to the nape of his neck, a fire sparking in her eyes.  

Maybe he’d indulge a little after all.

Her lips were magnetic:  beckoning him in slowly before colliding with a passion that left him unable to pull away.  As they kissed with practiced perfection, he allowed his slick hand to graze over her decolletage for a fleeting moment.  It found its home at the base of her neck, his long fingers wrapping around and his thumb gently pressing the remaining lotion on his hands into her skin with a back-and-forth motion.  

She breathed a sigh into his mouth, chasing his lips a little as he pulled away.  His tall body still hovered over her small one, trapping her between him and the bed.  A small smile graced her mouth, her eyes scanning over his face.  Happy, content.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”  he asked quietly, still stroking the skin on her neck.  

“Just you.”  She brought her hand up to his hair, threading her digits through the curls in a loose hold.  “Why?  You thinking about something, too?”

He breathed out a laugh.  “You really wanna know?”  his voice dipped lower, almost a whisper, throwing in just a little of the southern drawl he knew she loved.  “You sure?”

Her eyes flitted to his lips again as she chewed on her lower lip.  He lowered himself down to her ear achingly slow.  He could feel her chest rise and fall a little faster, each breath just a little shallower than the last.  He had her right where he wanted her.  

“Only Daisy’s Cottage Cheese will do!” 

She rolled her eyes and playfully scoffed, “Oh, fuck off!”  

“I told you it was going to get stuck in my head!”  he laughed as he stood up, pulling her with him.  He permitted himself another moment of soaking up her presence, tangling their fingers together and kissing her knuckles.

A blush crept into her cheeks and she bashfully avoided his adoring eyes by fiddling with his makeshift cuffs.  She pulled her hands free of his and unfolded his sleeves, allowing the fabric to fall loosely around his hands again.

“I like it like this.  It’s just…” she met his gaze again, her hand pressing gently into his chest and playing with his loose collar.  “It’s adorable.”

That signature smirk spread on her mouth when she spoke again.  “Plus, it’s long enough to keep you from doing anymore finger guns.”  

“It was one time!”

#austin butler #austin butler elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #austin elvis imagine #baz luhrmann elvis #elvis presley #elvis film #i can relate #elvis #austin butler fic #austin butler blurb #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fanfic #austinrobertbutler #austin butler gif #mundanity: an October Sunday morning

[loki-cees-all]

Shhh. (Preview - Loki x F!Reader)

COMPLETED VERSION HERE

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist

It's going to be awhile before I have any completed fics ready to be posted, but I will post this preview from an upcoming smut fic (because I need the dopamine to continue existing).

The fic is based on this gif…

Summary : You and Loki are at a boring party, and the God of Mischief wants to do something way more fun.

Warnings :

This is in no way finished whatsoever, and I have no idea when my idiot brain will be able to finish it 😅

Not sure what kind it's going to be yet, but it's gonna be ✨smut✨

Language

18+ only - Minors DNI

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

“Would you like to play a game, dear?”

The question sent chills down your spine. His breath was warm against your ear, his words were soaked with lust. You didn’t even need to look into his eyes to know they were wild, hungry, and sparkling with mischief. 

The party was honestly quite boring, and there was no question in your mind that you wanted to play his game, whatever it was. He had been teasing you, stirring you up all afternoon. Leering as he helped you into your evening wear, his touch lingering across your skin as he clasped the necklace around your neck. 

He intentionally positioned himself in your eyeline at the party as you conversed with foreign dignitaries. His blue irises smoldered from across the room as they roved up and down your form, his lips curved into his signature grin.

His hands fiddled with the cufflinks around his wrists, highlighting and reminding you of how large and powerful they were. He looked so damn good in that tuxedo.

And he had purposely waited until you were aching for him to ask the question, and he already knew the answer. He knew what he was doing to you.

You raised your wine glass to your lips and swallowed the red liquid, desperate for a moment to collect yourself. He continued to linger behind you, his nose ghosting over the back of your neck, his cologne enveloping you inside a storm of desire. 

As you pulled the glass away from your lips, he reached around to take it from you. You turned to watch as he consumed the remainder of its contents, his head turned upwards, exposing his entire neck to you. You bit your lip as his throat bobbed up and down after swallowing. 

You had no idea how he managed to make everything he did - no matter how normal or mundane - seem so attractive, so goddamn obscene. 

Your eyes met, and he licked his lips as he set the wine glass on the table. You felt his hands slide around your waist to pull you closer. 

“Loki, we can’t leave just yet…” you murmured, trying to hide how enticed you were. You glanced around the packed ballroom, still filled with party-goers. The auction hadn't even started yet, and there was a particular item you wanted to bid on.

“Oh, little one,” Loki replied, his voice low and deep. “We’re not going anywhere.” 

He crushed his lips against yours, and you fought the urge to sink into him. But you wanted to give in, to let everyone see him consume you. He was so magnetic, so erotic…and all he ever wanted was you. 

You were both so completely unashamed of how addicted you were to each other. A God and a mortal, unable to take their hands off of each other. It was something that demanded to be witnessed. 

You returned the kiss, unable to resist his touch, and were surprised at the lack of gasps and whispers as a result of the very public display of affection. And before you could comment on it, he pulled you against him and his mouth locked onto your neck.

“Loki - ”

You gasped as his lips pressed and sucked on your skin. His tongue grazed against your flesh, sending shivers down your spine.

“Relax, darling…” Loki whispered as he shifted to nibble on your earlobe. “They can’t see us…”

Your heart fluttered against your chest and you wrapped your arms around his neck. He kissed along the line of your jaw back to your lips, taking them into a passionate embrace before he pulled away slightly. 

He rested his forehead against yours, his hand moved to caress your flushed cheek.

“Tell me, pet…are you ready to play our game now?”

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

COMPLETED VERSION HERE

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed 💚) - @cheekyscamp @sarahscribbles @lunarnights95 @coldnique

#loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson fanfiction #loki of asgard #loki odinson #loki odinson fanfic #loki odinson fanfiction #mcu loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x you #loki odinson x female reader #loki odinson x reader #loki laufeyson smut #loki odinson smut #loki oneshot #loki smut #loki x female reader smut #loki x reader smut #loki x you smut #snippet #cee writes

[angelicyouth]

Youth ; Chapter 10

⇢ pairing: kenny mccormick x marsh!reader x craig tucker

⇢ synopsis: ❝Growing up with the boys as the sole girl of the group, it was only natural for them to grow protective over their pseudo-little sister as the years went by.❞

⇢ [AO3 link] ; [series masterlist] ; [previous] ; [next]

Screams of excitement and the smell of greasy, deep-fried food overload our senses from our positions outside of the park. Our wide eyes watch as people quickly pass overhead in metal contraptions promising fun, our still forms vibrating in place from excitement. Clyde eagerly pulls me by the arm to take pictures with North Park Funland’s sign, a multitude of colors greeting us in large font. As we giggle at the silly poses we pull, the boys call for us when it's our turn to scan our tickets and move past the metal detectors.

As soon as we’re granted access, wide grins of anticipation grow on all of our faces. Our heads quickly look around, taking in all of the sights that the park has to offer. When the boys take a right to start their venture around the whole place, Kenny grabs onto my hand with a charming smile as he and Craig begin to guide me in the opposite direction.

“Ooo, are you fellas going a different way than we usually go? I’ll come with!” Butters eagerly says when he catches sight of us, causing the rest of the boys to stop walking at his words.

“What the fuck? No! We always make our way from the right because it’s the most efficient way to go through the whole entire park! I would know, I used to own this fucking place.” Cartman crosses his arms in indignation, his eyebrows furrowed and casting us a condescending gaze at our apparently stupid decision.

I look between Kenny, Craig, and the guys before Kyle catches my gaze, rolling his eyes and sighing. “Just let them be, they want to hit the haunted house the most. You don’t want to go to that, right Butters?”

“Oh gee! He’s right. Sorry fellas, but I’ll just go with the others!” Butters apologetically says to us, rubbing his knuckles together in anxiety at the thought of the horror attraction.

“Let’s just promise to meet at the food court for lunch at around 2PM, yeah?” Tolkien offers, his arms leisurely crossed behind his head. Everyone nods in agreement, shooting glances at their cellphones to see how many hours from now that would be.

I flash a small smile of appreciation towards the curly haired teen as he guides my brother’s form towards the direction the rest of the group is heading. Stan darts his eyes from me to the group, his lips quirked downwards as Kyle reassuringly pats both of his shoulders from behind. When I see their bodies slowly become smaller until they’re just specks in the distance, an arm gets thrown over my shoulders.

I look to see Kenny sporting an eager smile before Craig gently grabs one of my hands, interlocking our fingers together and squeezing our joined hands in barely concealed excitement.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

Although Kyle came up with a quick lie on the spot to get Butters off our backs, the boys and I decide to appoint the haunted house as our first attraction of the day. I happily skip ahead of them to secure us a spot in line, humming to myself in happiness as they leisurely walk to catch up to me. When they get to me, Craig hefts my body up onto the metal ramp that organizes the line and stands between my legs.

I wrap my arms around his frame, pulling his back to my chest and resting my chin on his broad shoulders. The line goes by quickly as the three of us fill the time with silly word or hand games and mundane talking. Craig periodically takes the time to offer us the bottle of water he has in his backpack due to the sunny and warm weather.

When the creepy music gets louder the more we near, the blonde and I begin to tease the other about being scared. I hug both of their arms in excitement, squeezing them to my chest whenever a person’s scared scream rings through the throngs of waiting people.

Finally reaching the dark abyss of the haunted house, the boys and I file into a single file line as per the directions of the worker. Allowing our group entrance after deeming a sufficient amount of time has passed since the last group went in, Craig stands to the front of us with my body behind his. I hug his taller form to mine as Kenny similarily has his arms wrapped around my waist as he takes up the rear.

We wobble together like newborn penguins as we move our conjoined group as one.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

“Oh, fuck. The door—I think it’s locked.” The blonde announces, pulling on the rusty metal doorknob in front of him to no use. When he plants a leg on the wall next to the door as leverage, the door still doesn’t budge.

You see, when a murderous clown randomly popped out from behind the gruesome surgery table containing zombies, Kenny and I yelled in exhilaration. As we screamed, we pushed Craig to lead us away from the bloody, chainsaw wielding worker. This in turn caused us to end up in a dark room with dusty vintage furniture, a group of creepy antique doll’s heads hanging from the ceiling. The sound of an ominous music plays in the room, a chorus of eerie children singing along with it.

“What do you mean it’s fucking locked?” Craig demands, his eyebrows furrowed and his arms crossed. I hug our hooked arms together, leisurely glancing around at the creepy props in the room.

“What do you mean, ‘What do I mean?’ When I say, ‘It’s locked’, that means it’s fucking locked! How many fucking definitions of ‘locked’ are there, Craig?!” The blonde resolutely gives up and throws his arms in the air in exasperation, an eyebrow quirked up at the question the ravenette asked. He spits out the teen’s name venomously, as if it was an insult.

I snort as I follow the chullo wearing teen’s body, our joined arms forcing me to walk along with him as he takes his turn to inspect the door. Kenny watches the teen, a condescending gaze on his face as he watches the same results come up when he tugs on the door.

There’s a moment of silence as the boys try to come up with a solution, our cell phones sadly informing us that there is no signal for us to try to contact the others. I grab onto the blonde’s hand and lazily swing our intertwined fingers together, a smile on my face as I look from each boy.

“Before you say no-”

“No.” Craig quickly cuts off the blonde’s suggestion, his voice firm and an unamused expression on his face.

“Fuck you, asshole. I haven’t even said anything yet!”

“I don’t give a shit. I’m sticking with no.” The ravenette rolls his eyes, crossing his arms in indignation.

I flash a smile at the now pouting blonde, squeezing our interlocked hands in reassurance. “What is it, Ken?”

A grateful smile appears on his face as he uses our joined hands to bring my body closer to his, planting a quick kiss on the crown of my head.

“I think Craig should put me on his shoulders so I can look for a vent on the ceiling. If I find one, I can crawl until I end up at the top of a different room.”

“That’s a stupid fucking idea, even for you.” The taller teen sneers, his face scrunched up in disgust at the idiocy the blonde presents him with.

“It’s go big or go home, Tucker.” Kenny has a lazy grin on his face, further irritating the other male.

“Yeah, go home on a damn stretcher. We’re not fucking doing that.” He rolls his eyes at the dangerous idea, quickly dismissing it.

“Well if you’re gonna shit on every suggestion I make, what do you suggest we do? Huh, Einstein?” The blonde probes after the harsh rejection, taking a step closer to the space lover. Craig just shrugs, no expression on his face as they make eye contact.

“What? You don’t have a plan?” An incredulous tone sounds out from Kenny’s words, an eyebrow quirked up.

“No.” The two boys just stare at each other, it’s quiet again save for the creepy music of the room.

“My plan was just to disagree with your plans.” Craig continues, his monotonous voice further infuriating the blonde.

“Holy fucking shit. He’s insufferable, babe.” Exasperation laces Kenny’s harsh statement as he makes eye contact with me, probably wondering what the hell I see in the other teen.

“You always see the worst in people.” The blonde continues to criticize, squinting his eyes.

“Yeah, because people are the fucking worst.” Craig scoffs as if it’s a given fact before he softly kisses my forehead as wordless reassurance that I’m the exception to that thought.

The boys plant themselves on the floor in defeat, Kenny grabbing onto my hand to pull me into his lap. His arms wrap around my waist and I lean against his chest, his head burrowing into the crook of my neck.

“This is fun.” I happily hum, the stressed out boys looking over at me and snorting in exasperated fondness.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

When the workers had to investigate why there was suddenly a congestion of people waiting to go through the haunted attraction, they finally noticed the jammed door and the people trapped within it. Craig sneers at the apologetic people we pass by, flashing them his middle finger at how long it took for them to notice. Kenny just shoots them all a wide grin, telling them that it was no problem and to ignore the grumpy member in our party.

Finally reaching the exit, I skip in excitement into the sunshine, a hand holding each of the boys and pulling them along with me. We decide to just follow the layout of the park and stop for whatever catches our eye, which leads us to the huge assortment of colorful game booths. While I ooh and ahh at every stuffed toy I see, I gasp loudly when I see a particularly cute one that catches my eye. This has led to Craig vowing to play until he gets me the prize, already $50 deep into playing.

Kenny and I watch the determined teen from the side, the blonde taking turns to feed me alternate bites of the churro we decided to snack on as we wait. A lazy smile sits on his face as he shoots unauthentic words of encouragement, further frustrating the taller teen.

I giggle from my perch on the blonde’s lap, leisurely kicking my dangling legs back and forth. I cup my sugar and cinnamon coated mouth to loudly shout out in the ravenette’s direction. “I’m okay, babe! I pinky promise! Quit wasting your money, I already appreciate the thought and effort!”

The teen underneath me mimics my actions with a shit eating grin, hollering out a mocking, “Yeah, Tucker! There’s still some rides I wanna go on, I don’t want to sit on my ass waiting for you all damn day! Let’s just use that money on a funnel cake instead!”

I lightly swat at the arm around my waist, admonishing the blonde for further agitating the ravenette. He smirks at me, a hand caressing the side of my face as a thumb shoots out to swipe at the lingering crystals on my lips. His eyes are half-lidded as he licks off the residue on his finger, my cheeks quickly heating up at the provocative gesture.

I turn from his teasing to encouragingly yell at the struggling teen. A loud, “I love you!”

Kenny isn’t deterred as he echoes back just as loud, snickering. “Yeah, we love you even if you’re complete dog shit at amusement park games!”

Craig squints his eyes in intense concentration, never sparing us a glance. His arms flex as he throws the baseball, sweat beginning to bead along his hairline. I unconsciously swallow, a tongue darting out to lick at my lips from the tantalizing sight in front of me.

I follow the veins that run along his arms to larger hands, the silver rings adorning his fingers further highlighting how long his fingers are. The amount of effort and money this boy is putting in for a stupid stuffed toy that could probably be bought for $5 at a store makes me swoon. The sunlight hits his visage in a way that accentuates his handsome features, his sharp jaw looking particularly defined.

Before I can fall even deeper into a hypnotic daze at the mesmerizing boy, the blonde below me starts to loudly clap. The girl working the booth smiles as she hands Craig the prize I want, his stoic face turning towards me with eyes that shine in excited accomplishment.

I gently hop off my perch on the blonde, running to the ravenette and throwing my body at him. I giggle as he wraps his arms around me, spinning me around with his face in the crook of my neck. I can feel his wide smile across the expanse of skin he’s hiding in and I proudly coo at the teen for all his hard work and for finally winning.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

Exiting past the metal gate of the most recent roller coaster we just rode, Kenny reaches out to smooth down my wind blown hair as I gush about my favorite parts of the ride. In every ride that seats two people in a row, the boys take turns sitting with me, holding onto my hand throughout the duration of whatever ride we’re on.

“Babe.” Craig calls out to me, his hands in his pockets as his head motions at the bathrooms near us.

I smile and thank him before running along, but not before the blonde takes the cellphone out of the back pocket of my shorts for safe keeping. The boys settle on a bench not too far away from where I’m at, the ravenette leisurely throwing both of his arms over the top of the seat they share and idly watching people passing by.

Kenny opens up the camera app on my phone, taking a plethora of selfies. He looks cute in a lot of them but in a few, he purposefully makes ‘fuckboy’ expressions and poses that make him look like a sleazy douchebag. Once he’s done, he ultimately decides on setting one of them as his contact photo on my phone. The blonde deems it perfect because he wants to put a smile on my face everytime we text or call each other.

After that, he changes his contact name from boring old ‘Ken♡‘ to one that’s more suitable yet purposefully cringey. He decisively settles on  ‘love of my life’ with a bunch of heart emojis. Once satisfied, he takes the liberty of taking a bunch of photos of him and the stoic teen next to him, setting the one he likes the most as my phone’s home screen wallpaper.

It’s a photo of him with a wide smile, beaming up at the camera with a peace sign while Craig stares off to the side with his usual deadpan expression, flashing the camera his signature middle finger. He grins to himself when he locks my phone, the ravenette rolling his eyes at all of the blonde’s invasive fiddling. When I exit the bathroom, he hopes that I’ll be pleasantly surprised when I notice the new image.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

On our way to the aforementioned meet up spot for lunch, I spot the rest of the boys walking slightly ahead of the three of us.

“Hey, dumbfucks!” I yell around a wide smile, my arms hugging Craig and Kenny’s arms to my body.

All of the guys simultaneously turn around, some of them rolling their eyes when they see who shouted while some of them smile in excitement at seeing me. They all stop walking so we can look for a table that can seat all of us together.

“Wow. I can’t believe you all turned around.” I smirk up at everyone when we’ve caught up with the group.

“N/N! I missed you!” Clyde exclaims, rushing to throw his arms around me.

I giggle as I hug the brunette back, Tolkien speaking up for the teen clinging onto me. “He’s been sulking ‘cause Jimmy tricked him into going on the dropzone with him.”

Craig snorts from beside us, pushing our conjoined bodies towards the food court. We all catch each other up on the rides and attractions we went on today, my eyes wide as Butters tells me about losing the group for a whole 30 minutes.

When we find a suitable location, the boys all place their backpacks onto various chairs. After relaying my order to my brother, they all leave me at the table to watch everyone’s stuff and to save our seats

When I’m tapping away on my phone, I smile fondly at my new home screen photo. I open up my photo library to see the rest of the damage the blonde did. At a particularly ugly face Kenny does at the camera that has me laughing, I feel a person’s presence slowly approach me from behind.

I smile up at the intrusion, thinking it’s one of the boys until I look up to see someone I’ve never met before. It’s a boy with fairly handsome features, someone I can see girls falling for if I wasn’t already so smitten with my current boys.

Politely smiling up at the teen, I subtly glance around to see if he was with anyone else before kindly speaking up. “Hi! Can I help you?”

“Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself when I saw you sitting by yourself. Did you come here with anyone?” He sends me a pleasant smile and I mentally roll my eyes. Why the fuck would I come to an amusement park all by myself?

“Yeah, sorry. My brother’s here with me.” As I inform him of my company, my eyes frantically look around the food court to see if I can spot any of the guys for a desperate way out.

He places a hand on the back of the chair I’m sitting on, my body automatically leaning out of his reach at the suddenly close proximity. “Ah, I see. I don’t think I caught your name.”

I laugh, a sweet smile on my face. “That’s because I didn’t throw it.”

He chuckles along but it doesn’t seem like he got the hint. The insistent teen opens his mouth to continue this torturous exchange but before he can say anything, a bright red tray gets slammed onto the table. The overpriced food laying on top of it slightly wobbles but thankfully doesn’t fall.

“Fuck off.” My brother lowly growls, his knuckles are white from his tight grip on the plastic he’s holding. “That’s my sister.”

I let out a small sigh of relief under my breath but roll my eyes at the familiar scene playing out in front of me, variations of the same scenarios never failing to rile my brother up.

“Ah, I apologize…” The teen lets go of the hold he has on my chair, taking a step back. He glances between our faces, a thoughtful expression crossing over his. “It seems like good genes run in the family.”

Stan and I shoot each other a confused albeit pained expression, the elder Marsh quietly mouthing a what the fuck to me. I shrug in response before a hand reaches out to pull my brother back from the material of his jacket.

“Sorry, excuse him. Was there something you needed?” Kyle butts in, a quirk of an eyebrow on his face as he warily watches the still unnamed teen. His words are polite but the tone of his voice is cold, his smile also devoid of warmth.

The rest of the boys take their seats around the table, some of them with subtle glares on their faces but some are entertained at the protectiveness being unleashed at the unfortunate soul. When Craig settles in his seat next to me, he throws an arm over the back of my chair in a nonverbal threat to the stranger. The poor teen takes the arrival of way more people than he anticipated as his cue to leave, quickly dismissing himself.

“What did he want with the ugoo?” Cartman disinterestedly asks around a mouthful of food. I scrunch my face in disgust when bits of food and spit spray out onto the table.

“He was just asking when your whore mom was going to call him again.” I shoot back around the bite of the corn dog Kyle tries to feed me. Sorry Aunt Liane, but your son’s a complete dick so I had to.

“Aye!”

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

For the rest of the day, we decided to stick along with the rest of the group since it’d be harder to see one another once it gets dark. When Clyde and I start to complain about wanting something cold because of the warmth so rarely seen back at home, the boys and I decide to share some ice cream and drinks with one another.

While leisurely walking and cooling off, Tolkien spots a gift shop that he wants to check out in an effort to buy something nice for his girlfriend. With my lips wrapped around a straw, I loudly sip on my slurpee as I look around. I lightly drag my fingers over the assortment of trinkets and candy as I pass by them, humming to myself before I feel something being placed on my head.

Turning around, I see Kenny step back away from my form to scan my appearance before guiding me to a mirror to see what he put on me. On my head sits a cute headband of one of the mascots of the theme park and I gasp at how adorable it is.

I spot Craig approaching us from behind through the reflection of the glass in front of me and I see that both he and Kenny also have matching headbands decorating their heads. We each have a different character and I get excited at the prospect of matching with my boys. As thanks for treating me out the whole day, I leave room for no complaints as I resolutely march up to the cashier to pay for our wares.

I take a picture of the three of us in extreme bliss, wasting no time in setting it as my lock screen wallpaper. I smile in happiness when I look at the new images that decorate both my lockscreen and my home screen wallpaper, my pixelated boys looking back at me from the glass screen of my phone.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

When the golden rays of the slowly descending sun cast itself over the entire park, Kenny tugs me to his side with a handsome grin on his face.

“Let’s go.”

I don’t question him or wait for him to expand on his words as I smile up at him, the others falling into a line for another rollercoaster. The blonde interlocks our fingers together, about to make a quick escape before I pout up at him.

“Ken!” My cheeks puff out, my feet resolutely planted to the asphalt below us.

He rolls his eyes at me as he tugs on Craig’s sleeve as a sign to follow us, the ravenette furrowing his brows at the teen who was about to ditch him. I intertwine my other hand with the taller boy and we laugh as we quickly run the opposite direction. We hear the other’s yell after us but we don’t stop, quickly weaving through the multitude of people walking.

We stop to catch our breaths when we reach the ferris wheel, my lips parting in excitement when I see the height of the ride. Craig simply lifts an unimpressed eyebrow before we’re soon getting ushered into a carriage by the worker manning the metal contraption.

The boys sit in front of me as I marvel at our slowly ascending height, my hands holding onto the colorful yet cool material keeping us locked in. The view of the park looks breathtakingly beautiful underneath the warm tones that signal the sun’s rest, washing it in various shades of orange, yellow, and red. I bring up a finger to point things out for the boys, the both of them watching me with tender smiles on their faces at my child-like wonder.

I beam a wide smile at them, my happiness overflowing my body and out of every pore on my skin. I feel so grateful for the spontaneous day trip that the boys decided for today, granting me an opportunity of quality time with the two before me. I reach out my arms, holding onto each one of their hands and squeezing them with fondness. The two boys return my smile before quickly sharing a glance at one another.

“Y/N.” The taller teen calls out to me, his voice bringing me to his attention.

He gently smoothes a thumb over my hand, his voice low as he continues in the still air between us. “I wanted to tell you that I would like to be with you, to continue this.”

My eyes widen in surprise at the sudden confession, my head moving to seek the blonde’s azure orbs. He has a soft expression on his face, a smile so tender and warm. “I agree. If you’ll have the both of us, I’d like to stay by your side too. It’d be an honor, Princess.”

Lips slightly parting, I breathe in a shaky intake of much needed air. I can feel my heart running at a hundred miles per hour, butterflies quickly beginning to fill my stomach. The blonde lifts his unoccupied hand to my face, lightly soothing a thumb over my warm cheeks.

“I know that this will be hard. People are going to say stuff, they’re going to look at us differently. But I just wanted to say that even if you don’t feel content with where you are, I am so proud of you for being where you are and for following your heart. You have overcome more than so many people know and I want to be there for you. Maybe there was a time where you didn’t think you would make it, but here you are—so radiant and beautiful.” Kenny’s voice is so soft, so caring and loving. I feel my eyes start to water at the overwhelming love I begin to feel from his words.

Craig squeezes our joined hands, his lips quirking up into a smile so gentle and sweet that I begin to feel goosebumps dance along my arms at the wash of feelings it elicits. He brings our interlocked fingers to his mouth, slowly moving along before placing a soft kiss to my wrist.

He mumbles against the purchase of skin, “You made it and you will continue to make it. You deserve to live the life you want to live, not the life others expect you to live. You deserve to be proud of the person you are and love the life you are living. If someone has a problem with the three of us, just say a word and I promise that I’ll hurt whoever made you cry.”

I wetly laugh through the wide smile forming on my face. My cheeks begin to hurt and all I can get myself to say is a small fuck, my voice pathetically cracking. The boys endearingly laugh at my speechless figure, my face so utterly distraught at the influx of high emotions I’m currently experiencing.

I leap out of my seat to jump into their arms, the carriage we’re seated in tilting dangerously from the unbalanced weight. I giggle when Kenny yelps, wrapping my arms around their shoulders and smiling against their bodies. There's a small smile on my face, one so filled with love that I can’t help but to hide it into the material of their jackets.

“Thank you for being my heart split into two human forms.”

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

“Holy shit, my feet are fucking killing me.” Cartman complains as we all find an empty plot of grass among the sea of park goers.

Jimmy snorts, watching the larger teen heavily plop down on the floor. “Y-Yeah, I can imagine. Y-Yuh-your poor feet has to s-suh-support all of your fat.”

The boys snicker as they tiredly situate themselves on the green flooring in a much more dignified manner, Cartman too tired to say anything as he throws a middle finger at the disabled teen. Large hands grip onto my waist, guiding me onto Craig’s lap from his perch on the floor.

We all fiddle on our phones as Tweek and Tolkien ask for any snack orders we may have before they set off to get the group some food for the upcoming show. I lean my body against the sturdy chest behind me, the taller teen hooking his chin over my shoulder and watching me scroll through Coonstagram.

We both snicker when we see a picture of all of us from today at the food court that Butters posted, Clyde looking moded as he smiles mid-blink. When Kenny comes back from the bathroom, he lays down in front of me and lays his upper body against my smaller one. I weave my arms around his broad shoulders, gently stroking locks of blonde hair from the head against my stomach.

When a multitude of colors flash into huge explosions in the pretty night sky, a large smile sits on my face as I glance at the reactions of the boys to see if they’re having a good time. The luminescence of brightly lit hues reflect on their faces, their eyes look even more radiant than ever.

And all I can think to myself at that moment is how I wish this could last forever, with Kenny and Craig by my side.

#south park #south park x reader #craig tucker x reader #kenny mccormick #craig tucker #south park fanfiction #kenny mccormick x reader #lalawrites

[prbni]

My controversial Kdrama opinions

1. Ko Moon Young was just a psychologically messed up girl. She isn't the 'girlpower' or 'badass' that the Kdrama fandom likes to dub her into.

2. In 'Hotel del Luna', they could've just chucked the entire character of Gu Chansung out of the window and gave Chang Myung a rebirth/rebirths,make him go through various trials and tribulations to repent and earn Man Wol's forgiveness. Didn't have to make it unnecessarily tragic.

3. Unnecessarily tragic reminds me, the 'realistic' ending of 2521 was a JOKE. There was NO point of developing such a power couple if they were to break up for such a mundane reason.

4. Romance genre isn't Song Kang's 'thing'. He shines better as an actor in non-romance genres.

5. Had they focused on developing Ju Kyung as an individual character who finally learns how to completely take a stand for herself instead of dangling her between Suho and Seojun, 'True Beauty' would've become a more popular and appreciated drama.

6. The love line between Hwang InYeop and Seo Hyun Jin's character in 'Why her: Oh Soo Jae' was absolutely unnecessary and awkward.

7. Jo Bo Ah and Ahn Bo Hyun and an amazing chemistry in 'Military Prosecutor: Do Bae Man'. However, they could've developed a slowburn romance between them instead of abruptly putting a kiss sequence in the last episode out of nowhere.

8. In 'Snowdrop', Eun Young Ro forgiving Soo Ho later on didn't make sense. Their kiss sequence was purely fan service,nothing else.

9. Individual acting aside,Kim Hye Yoon had more chemistry with Lee Jae Wook(2nd lead) than Rowoon(main lead) in 'Extraordinary You'.

10. Writers are overusing 'Let's kill off the main character and make the show tragically memorable' trope wayyy too much.

11. As much as it physically hurts me given the chemistry of the actors,Choi Do Il and Oh In Joo not having any proper romantic sequence till the end of 'Little Women' makes sense to the storyline(the shipper me might've wanted a hug though).

12. Also the writers should stop doing the 'lets make the second lead better than the main lead'. Its annoying to see one person actually making sincere effort for the girl but the girl ends up totally ignoring their effort and like the ML. Not in just Kdramas but in all sorts of dramas. I actually saw a Chinese drama where the second lead finally turned into a villain. I LITERALLY commented 'good for him' lmao.

13. Sunho in 'Cheer Up' is problematic. Neither his sad backstory nor his sincere feelings for Haeyi changes that fact.

14. The Heirs(2013) drama wasted an opportunity to pair Young Do(Kim Woobin) with Yoo Rachel(Kim Jiwon). No, they didn't need to be 'siblings'. I'd have chosen the two heartbroken yet sassy and tough people romance over the sappy romance of the main couple in a heartbeat. And the actors would've NAILED it.

15. Jojo not ending up with Sunho in 'Love Alarm' finally broke the 'Cinderella and Prince Charming' fairytale trope of Kdramas. That girl was too messed up in the head . She didn't need the rich,fierce and impulsive lover, but the quite,patient and thoughtful one. So don't go ahead and say the ending sucked. Maybe they could've made things more coherent, but no the ending didn't suck.

16. Moon Dong Eun should have remained single, with the last episode ending with him crossing paths with Do Yeong, with Yeonjin & gang & all the revenge agenda gone, she could hv offered him a smile and a game of Go, keeping an open ending for them. Lee Do Hyun was fabulous in playing Yeojeong and their chemistry was amazing. But they could hv just been partners in crime with their teamwork without the romantic plot between them.

17. No. Ryu Shi Oh doesn't give second lead syndrome. Byun Woo Seok is a very good actor but he plays the villain in 'Strong Woman Kang Nam Soon' and not anti-hero. Lee Yoo Mi and him should be paired opposite to e/o in some other project in the future but Shi Oh and Nam Soon ain't the 'enemies to lovers' you think it is.

#ko moon young #its okay not to be okay #kdrama #hotel del luna #yeo jin goo #lee do hyun #jang man wol #lee ji eun #tvn 2521 #song kang #lim jukyung #true beauty #hwang inyeop #seo hyun jin #why her #jo bo ah #ahn bo hyun #military prosecutor doberman #snowdrop #kim hyeyoon #lee jae wook #sf9 rowoon #sbs cheer up #the heirs #kim woobin #kim jiwon #love alarm #song hye kyo #the glory #byun woo seok

[joulethieves]

ryugoro; nsfw, timeskip

a/n: i have a very large ryugoroverse in my brain i am slowly, slowly chipping away at. they began as hatefuckbuddies in canon-verse, all thanks to a game of truth or dare. things...escalate, de-escalate, and dissipate from there.

twelve years pass.

this takes place in a post-game timeskip. akechi is 30, ryuji is 29. they're fuckbuddies again (with akechi being in complete denial that ryuji is, most likely, his actual boyfriend at this point). powerbottom akechi enjoyers, this one's for you.

----------

“Is it something you can confirm with absolute certainty?”

“I have every reason to believe he’s  the man we’ve been searching for.”

Goro sits hunched over his desk, sifting through files and folders mostly to just busy his hands. He doesn’t need to reference them when the evidence is this burned into the back of his eyelids like the wake of glaring headlights.

The voice over the other line of his ‘work phone’ goes silent for a long moment, but this isn’tsual for Him. Chances are, he was sifting through his own end of files too. 

It’s been weeks of research. The late nights and early mornings wear heavy on the bags under Goro's eyes, and he’s picked up his pesky on-and-off-again smoking habit again. 

He can stop anytime. When he wants. He just doesn’t want to, right now. That could be said about a few things in his life -- notably, the reason his personal cellphone screen flashed bright on his desk with a fresh notification: 

SAKAMOTO  New Message

Goro's gaze lingers on the home screen. He’s admittedly left Ryuji on read for weeks aside from the terse, “Busy with work for a while. Don’t expect to hear from me for a bit.”

He's been feeling that self-same itch for Ryuji akin to a cigarette. Weeks without that blissful, distracting, maddening release has left Goro wanting to strike the match and take another long, long drag. It’s just, unlike an occasional cigarette, the thing with Ryuji Sakamoto is that Goro can’t just have a one and done. Lately, he’s been wanting more, the frequency of his desire unnerving him. He's known for a while that a step back was in order. Work just so happened to present a perfect opportunity to ghost the temptation of a man creeping into corners of Goro's mind he's been far too alone in, for far too long.

He's become a hell of a distraction, and Goro needs to focus, dammit. 

Before he can even reach for his phone to turn it off, another notification lights up the screen.

SAKAMOTO Video Message

Goro's hand freezes over the Off button. If he had any sense at all, he’d press it and get on with the task at hand. 

(If he had any sense at all, he'd never have this number in his phone to begin with.)

SAKAMOTO New Text Message Christ. Is he okay? 

Maybe he's not okay.

No…if he's not okay he’d call.

No. If he's not okay, he’d call someone else, surely.

Someone who hasn’t mostly left his mundane texts and memes on read for weeks aside from the occasional ‘like’ reaction. Someone who hasn't made him chew on the bare minimum for the better part of half a month.

“Do you think we should strike tonight, then.”

The voice over the work line is more a statement than a question. Goro watches the screen of his cellphone fade to black, and looks away.

“There’s no point in dragging it out,” he said, more to himself than anyone, but it suits as an answer regardless.

“Hmmm.” Another long silence, the sound of typing in the distant background of his colleague. Goro knows Him enough by now to predict he’ll be silent for another minute or two…

The phone lights up again.

SAKAMOTO New Photo Message

Relentless. The fuck is he texing Goro at this hour? He glances at the clock; Ryuji is typically at the gym by now.  

A creeping sense of what exactly waits for him beyond a simple input of his password lit up an aching, viscous curiosity. It seeps through the cracks of Akechi's resolve like tar. 

What on earth--

 Goro draws his passcode pattern on with all the annoyance of swiping away a gnat. This had better be fucking good, Sakamoto.

The first message greets him:

SAKAMOTO Thinking of you, baby. Feelin some kinda way after today’s sesh. Wanna release some steam… waddya say 

Followed by...what the hell is that.

The thumbnail of the video was something completely undeniable: Ryuji, seated on what appeared to be a locker room bench. His phone was pointed at a mirror, where Goro could see his  legs spread enough to palm between them to grab–

The thumbnail mocks him, the PLAY button perfectly blocking exactly what Ryuji means to tempt him with. Goro freezes. 

This is a new low. Getting desperate for attention, was he? With all the debauchery that they share in the bedroom, it usually stayed just there: the bedroom. It never occurred to Goro to stoop to this; sexting was for teenagers and playboys, of which he was neither. Nor has he ever received anything so crass. No one has ever had the audacity.

Which can often be said of everything before Ryuji Sakamoto. 

“The supplies,” the voice over the line pulls Goro from the glaring thumbnail of Ryuji’s hand over his clothed cock, “we’ll need a different array for this.”

“Affirmative,” Goro replies, hand fumbling over his files on his desk with purpose this time. That's one thing he needs them for: there are addresses they need to hit for this specific array that were unlike their usual arsenal.

“Let me know where to go. I’ll get what we need if it’s northside of Kichijoji. We’re running out of time if we want to make it there by midnight.”

“I have all the locations identified. Give me a moment.”

Fuck. Where is it? His hands skim along the folders haphazardly strewn about his desk, and, exasperated, he picks up his cellphone to move out of the fucking way – when his thumb grazes the very Play button mocking him.

The picture comes to life and Goro's hand freezes, eyes pulled to the screen in a kind of horrified curiosity a weaker man could only compare to watching a train wreck.

Ryuji, dressed in a white sleeveless shirt, pulls up the hem to hold in his mouth. The whites of his teeth tease the fabric in a grin, and with his free hand he trails his fingers down past his pierced nipples further south, running over sweat-moistened abs. They're on full display after whatever workout he just did, and the crude angle of the gym lighting casts them in defined highlights and shadows. But he doesn't linger, his touch trailing past the waistband of his red gym shorts where he crudely grabs a handful of cock. There is no denying the fullness  his hand closes around, the outline of it a filthy testament to how hard he is.

The camera in his hand shifts, revealing a sliver of his face. He must think he looks good like this, on display like a pornhub amateur, teasing his cock in a locker room where anyone could come in and see him touching himself through his clothes. That boner is anything but subtle.

Goro doesn't realize his mouth is hanging open until the voice over the line of his "work" phone cuts through the other receiver. “Crow.”

“A moment, I said,” Goro blinks rapidly, coming to life and flipping through a folder in hand while the video on his cellphone continues to play. How fucking long is it?

The video–the video. He is intimately familiar enough with exactly the toy Ryuji is currently flaunting on camera like a slutted up jock twit.

Goro's hand stutters over paper and plastic. This has to be the folder – it better be. The addresses his colleague over the phone was requesting are embedded in otherwise nonsensical code, lest it fall into unsavory hands.

Well – hands any more unsavory than his own; he’s finding it consistently hard to keep them clean these days. Funny how that keeps happening.

His eyes scan the code furiously to ensure it has the correct coordinates for tonight’s target. Yes, surely it was this file. He remembers writing the code. He remembers hiding the first address within lines 72 and 73. He remembers how good it felt to stretch his jaw over that inviting hot length and deepthroating Ryuji until he whined–

When the fuck did  he start  looking at the video again.  Why the fuck was Ryuji taking his cock out in the locker room, pulling his shorts down over the shaft just to tease the first few inches of the base, the tension of the fabric fighting against the hardness there.

Fuck. Sakamoto isn't bluffing; He is riled up. His flushed body, glistening with sweat, muscles alight and rippling with the excitement of his own display of indecency – in this moment  he is the worst thing to ever happen to Goro Akechi, and given his entire track record, that is far too devastating of a title to give to someone this stupid.

“Crow.”

“Yes.” It is all Goro can say, swallowing dryly. Fuck. Right. The code. 72 and 73. Lines seventy tw–

“You’re distracted.” The statement makes his blood run cold. There is no way he knows. There is no way Goro has been that obvious—no. There is no way he is distracted.

“I wasn–”

“Call me back when you can give me your full, undivided attention. This is not idle chatter.”

“I told y–”

The sharp click of the receiver, followed immediately by the droning hum of a dead line, makes Goro freeze. The sound fills the room, uninterrupted, as he watches the seemingly endless video of Ryuji teasing himself finally end; in reality, it was barely thirty seconds of thirst trap footage. Goro stares at the frozen thumbnail, seized by something caught between lust and rage; again, something only Sakamoto can conjure up unknowingly. 

Fucking shithead. Needy mongrel who thinks only with his cock, blowing up his phone like a juvenile fuckwad when Goro was on the cusp of an infiltration that is still far too foggy for his own liking. When he reaches towards his cellphone, his hand is shaking. 

That’s right. That wasn’t all Ryuji spammed him with. Under the video, another message.

SAKAMOTO: So fuckin hard right now Wanna be inside you, fuckk. Call me

Beneath the prolific message written with all the coherency of a neanderthal typing with his cockhead, an unsolicited fucking dick pic burns its way into his retinas. Something feral and furious possesses Goro, the drone of the dead line from his work phone blending into the hot  static of his thoughts. 

He smashes the name SAKAMOTO with his thumb, and whips the phone to his ear.

Ryuji doesn’t even let the first ring finish before he picks up. 

Goro doesn’t even let him say hello.

“Here’s what you’re going to do, you juvenile cumbrained jock-twit. You’re going to meet me at the hotel at  4 Chome-31-1. You’re going to get there immediately, and you’re going to text me the room number, and you’re going to wait for me like the dog you are, or you can go home to jerk off onto your stomach alone like a parody of yourself who can’t finish what he starts. Understood?”

The only sound Goro hears aside from his own furious heartbeat is, still, the hum of the other phone’s dead line left forgotten on his desk. Ryuji huffs over the other end, letting out some sigh between his teeth like the starting hiss of a radiator.

“Oh. Fuck yeah.”

Goro hangs up. He memorizes the code between lines 72 and 73. He recites it six, eight, ten times as he puts on his coat, heads downstairs, stands outside.  He waves down a cab.  When Ryuji texts him “413,” halfway into the ride, he memorizes that too, and doesn’t bother to respond.

#ryuji sakamoto #goro akechi #ryugoro #my writing #ryugoroverse #ryuji #akechi #ryugoroverse timeskip

[lorei-writes]

Hey, Lorei!! 💕

For Esther: 2, 30 and 41

For Viva: 18, 21 and 25

For you: B

Myara! Hi! Hi! Hello!

Let's go! >:)

OC ask game

Esther

2. How easy is it for your character to laugh?

I'd say it depends on the setting.

When in the palace, surrounded by nobles, Esther generally tries to remain composed under all circumstances. She feels that her laughing freely would break the decorum. However, once she's surrounded by commoners or people she's familiar with? It becomes a much easier task.

One thing that never fails to get her is dark humour.

30. Who do they most regret meeting? 

Her paternal aunt. Or, well, the majority of her extended family.

The thing is, Esther's mother has lost all her previous familial connection while fleeing from under Obsidianite reign. The only extended family Esther has comes from her father -- and none of them were thrilled about him being married to her mother. Everybody knew that the twins were not planned children. At the same time, none of them offered any help, not when they were little, and most definitely not after her parents divorced.

If that wasn't bad enough, they re-appeared post Viva's crowning. Viva would receive condolence letters filled with requests -- condolence letters as their entire extended family lives assuming that Esther is long dead.

41. How do they feel about children? 

It's a bit of a touchy subject for Esther. She likes children and does fairly well with them. She'd like to have some of her own... But it's not that easy.

Esther has experienced long periods of severe malnutrition. The most recent one occurred right before she arrived at the palace. Recovery takes time, obviously. On top of that, Esther doesn't know whether any lasting damage hasn't already been done.

She's in her late twenties when she and Chevalier become an item. For various reasons, they cannot rush getting married, but time is still of the essence. (...I may have a skeleton of a plot line on the topic.)

Viva

18. What embarrasses them?

Hmm... Maybe not so much embarrasses her, but gets her flustered?

Being on the receiving end of affection while in private. She can put up a front while other people are around, if it's just her and her lover? There's nothing there to help her remain composed.

She's used to rough affection, to banter, play fights and other such things. Kindness, however? Gentleness and soft words? Not so much. The more tender people are towards her, the faster she crumbles.

21. Why do they get up in the morning? 

I'd say she has a dual reason for it.

Viva has a strong sense of duty. She wakes up in the morning to provide for her loved ones. To protect them. To be the rock that others need. To do what she thinks should be done, as otherwise it'd be hard for her to look into the mirror.

However, it is also that... she sees a lot of wonder in the world? And she's hungry for it. She's deeply in love with a lot of the mundane, so it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say she wakes up to taste fresh bread, or to play with stray dogs. In fact, I'd say that that is what enables her to carry on despite her self-imposed duties.

25. What are their thoughts on marriage? 

Another idea that gets her flustered. She's hopeless ( and helpless).

Viva's personal outlook on marriage is somewhat romanticised. She knows it is often used as means of obtaining influence or material privileges, but she could never see herself take part in it for that purpose.

What she'd rather aim for would be devotion. She wants love that is a continuous conscious choice, even in presence of hardships. She wants to grow together with her lover, to age with him, to support him, respect him, and to receive the same in turn. I suppose you could say that in her mind, marriage is an announcement of that sort of intention.

General

B) What inspired you to create them?

It was a convergence of a couple of factors.

I finished Leon's route and loved it. (Still one of my favourites). I thought it'd be interesting if his backstory was used in a different way.

I concluded that the Belle system hinges on subjective judgement, and thought it'd be interesting to see what may happen if the person chosen for the role was not so pure.

It was a very "what if" kind of situation. What if the Belle was not so pure. What if she knew the truth of Leon's identity. What would need to happen for her to come across as a person who does have a point. What if she had reasons for her revenge. How do I glue it together. What motivating forces could I employ at all sides. + I had this one dialogue line that was burning my mind.

I talked about the skeleton of the idea with @venulus and she pointed out that it would be possible for the other twin to be paired with Chevalier (my new obsession at the time). Pieces started falling into place after that.

#answered #itsmyara #ikepri oc #ikepri esther #ikepri viva #ikepri #ask game

[leomonae]

Soooo it turns out that if you're playing a do-gooding, self-sacrificing bleeding heart type who's basically contractually obligated by their religion to take on suffering in place of others doing so and also gives a fuck about what happens to the githyanki as a society...

(Massive spoilers ahoy!)

... you kind of inevitably wind up an illithid? Which, okay, fine, cool cool cool, as a healer this is pretty much the only time I've been at all effective in combat except when we're frying undead so that part is pretty awesome and apparently Ilmater is totally cool with all this since I still have my cleric powers, except now my prettyboy vampire boyfriend refuses to kiss me anymore, on the grounds that it won't work with my new mouth :(

The thing is, though, I've been mulling this over for the past fucking day I've been unable to just finish the damn game because of this slow-ass patching process courtesy of GOG, and I think I actually kind of adore this outcome? No, really, I could see this being great for Tav and Astarion's relationship, once he's had enough time to get over the whole... eldritch horror aspect of it all!

Benefit one: Tav's lifespan just became a total non-issue for them! Sure, I don't know and wasn't finding much regarding illithid lifespans, but my Tav was a human before; pretty much anything would be an improvement on that, next to how long a powerful elven vampire could expect to live. And honestly, illithid lifespan isn't even that important in that regard, because they have other options Tav could now actually take. There's no way she'd have ever agreed to becoming a vampire before, but now that the "I prey upon mortals to survive" line has already been crossed? The details of how she's going to handle things ethically hammered out? Why not go full-on vampiric illithid at this point, if that extends their time together? Hells, she could jump straight to illithilich if she wanted!

Benefit two: illithid are sexless. Sexless, but - crucially - with the potential to still be sex-positive, if we take that little interlude with the Emperor which broke my brain so badly the other week at face value. The most obvious implication of the narration was that what the mind flayer gets out of the whole experience is what their partner is putting in: that it's due to their psionic link, or whatever. Sure, there are still questions as to what part the tadpole played in facilitating said connection, but it's not like there aren't any other sources of mind reading or mental sharing that exist in the setting; my Tav is already running around with Detect Thoughts up constantly, I'm sure she can pick up some alternative just fine. The point is, Astarion and all his trauma just got himself a partner who not only wants him to genuinely enjoy having sex with them, but is quite likely literally physically incapable of deriving any carnal pleasure from the experience if he isn't.

Benefit three: illithid are naturally selfish and egotistical and risk-averse enough that my Tav probably just picked up a modicum of concern for her own survival, which I expect will be a massive weight off Astarion's mind after the past few weeks/months of watching her throw herself at wherever the most dangerous enemy on the field happens to be

Benefit four: illithid enjoy sunlight only marginally more than vampires do, which admittedly means that Tav is gonna have to buy a new mace soon, but also means the two of them now prefer complementary habitats and daily schedules

Benefit five: their diets are complementary too! They can split a bandit to avoid food waste!

[edit: benefit six: three times the upper limbs mean three times as many/thrice as good hugs for astarion]

In conclusion spawn Astarion + illithid Tav is clearly the happiest ending of them all, thank you for coming to my TED Talk

(also the going out in public part is pretty much a non-issue too, I tested out one of those cheap mundane disguise kits you can pick up and it worked perfectly fine even if the human female variant I used to be was not skinny and middle-aged with an afro, so I'm sure between Gale Shadowheart and Omeluum we can figure out a way of making me look like myself again in no time)

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #not wholly serious #but it does present some fun and interesting possibilities i must admit #illithid tav

[i-eat-worlds]

Alex & Friends Part 7: Respite

Alex gets a break. Team fluff kinda. cw: literally nothing. Like minor Trauma.

Alex had enjoyed her four hours of sleep. Joseph had gone with her to get a change of clothes, then showed her to the guest bunks. After a quick shower, she peeled off her soaking, cut up clothes and changed into the fresh set. Finally, she crawled into bed. There was no tossing and turning while trying to get to sleep. Alex dropped straight in a dreamless coma almost immediately. Her alarm rudely roused her four hours later. For a brief moment, she stretched and yawned, then rolled out of bed. She quickly remade the guest bunk, laced up her boots, and made her way to the chow hall for breakfast. Debrief was at seven sharp, and she needed to eat.

It was strange being back in an INSUPA Center after two years away. She hadn’t slid her arms into the black uniform jacket in ages. It felt odd to mark herself so obviously as a member. Alex had spent the better part of a year integrating herself within Shadow, and here she was, wearing the orange and blue logo of the organization that she had needed to disappear from. Now, she was surrounded by it. Smack-dab on everyone’s shoulder.

The longest line in the chow hall was for the coffee machine, which Alex bypassed for the food. Her tray was quickly filled with eggs, bacon, sausage, and a cinnamon roll that was liberally dribbled in icing. While the rest of the food was about average, INSUPA chow halls could make a killer cinnamon roll. Alex shoveled food into her mouth, leaving no survivors. Recently, she’d been living off of various take out places and less than tasty ration packs, so abundant quantities of palatable food was a minor miracle. She saved the cinnamon roll for last, unraveling the pastry with her fork. Her stomach filled, she snagged an energy drink from the cooler. They were not her preferred manner of caffeination, but the coffee line was seriously ridiculous. Now all she had to do was nd her way to the debriefing room.

*********

Eric reclined in one of the office chairs that surrounded the large table in conference room 2A. The famous conference room 2A. Every INSUPA Center had one, the room where INSUPA’s “best of the best” teams were briefed. They were all over TV, Superheroes in their custom uniforms informing the public of another success. The visible faces of powered people everywhere.

Of course, reality is far less glamorous. The 2A conference room is used by just about any INSUPA team, and very few powered people could lift up cars and throw them, zap people with lighting, or whatever else that the “best of the best” did. In Eric’s experience, the people with more “mundane” powers were not only far more helpful, they also could keep their ego in check. They were good team players. Speaking of his team, they’d all arrived in 2A. Joseph, his second in command, sat across the table from him. He sorted through a file folder, but every now and then, his eyes flickered over to Aarav. Fair enough, seeing as less than twelve hours ago, Joseph had been cradling their bleeding, concussed head in his hands. Aarav was the youngest member of the team, and Joseph had taken a little bit of a shine to them. So had Avia. She was sitting next to him, chatting about a video game. Avia had been on the team for a fairly long time, and Eric had met very few people who could kick ass as well as they could. Across from Avia was Teri, headphones wrapped around her skull, attention absorbed by her laptop screen. Eric highly doubted she’d slept at all last night. While the rest of them were sleeping, she’d been deep in the guts of cyberspace, searching for answers. As always, Sil came in last, a giant can of monster energy in his hand, wearing his signature beanie. Taking a sip of his beverage, he sat down next to Alexis and popped his legs up on the table.

Alexis was an interesting new addition to the room. She looked uncomfortable in the space. Her borrowed uniform didn’t fit quite right, and she kept tugging down the collar. He’d sat back down in his chair. “She’s surprisingly good at wound care.” Were the only words that left his mouth. The final person in the room was Senior Administrator Nicki Rudick. Her hands sat folded in front of her, her gray admin uniform crisp. She stood in the far corner of the room, to the side of several TV screens. Rudick checked her watch, then stepped forward. “Good Morning, Turquoise Team.”

Tag list: @pigeonwhumps

#worlds babbles #whump #fluff #team whump #truama mention #alexoc #joseph oc #aviaoc #ericoc #terioc #aaravoc #rudickoc #alex & friends #so many characters

[cavalierious-whim]

Their love is etched in stone, thinks Zhongli, even if Childe won't live forever.

Reworked this a bit! Check this fic out here on A03 for better quality, and follow me here on Twitter if you'd like.

One day, deep into their lives, reality slaps Zhongli in the face quite suddenly. 

It’s a mundane moment full of mundane things. Childe laughs warmly, that well-known, rapscallion smile spread wide across his face. He nudges Zhongli’s shoulder with his, warmth seeping in through the thin cotton of their shirts. 

It was once a small kernel of affection that roiled through his veins—but then it grew, yanked long and thin like the hand-pulled noodles they still eat at Wanmin Restaurant. Zhongli’s heart bursts at the seams with it, overtaken with the presence of Childe.

But then, Childe turns to face him and Zhongli sees the lines around his eyes, and the creases around his mouth. Silver sprinkles throughout his hair, capturing the Liyue sunlight. Childe isn’t old by much standard, he’s just older, still mostly in his prime and beyond capable, but—

He is weathered, well-seasoned, more of a silver fox nowadays than a vibrant red one, and though handsome and distinguished, Zhongli can’t help the slight downward twitch of his mouth. A minute thing. Something that most wouldn’t ever notice—maybe Childe if he’d been paying proper attention.

This is where love turns acrid, Zhongli’s heart tugging sideways as an inevitable weight finally falls upon him, anchored like the stone that he carved his beloved home from: Childe is mortal and he does not have forever. 

It takes Childe a moment to notice. He nudges Zhongli once more and says, “Hey, what is it?” His eyes glint brightly now, so unlike the dull ocean blue of his younger years. There’s a tinge of worry there. Childe doesn’t ask again, but his tongue peeks from his lips, wet and pink, licking them as a distraction.

Zhongli sighs. “I was only thinking.”

Childe waits, patiently. In his youth, he wasn’t nearly so composed but the years have mellowed and tempered him. When Zhongli doesn’t continue, he smooths his thumb over the bone of Zhongli’s wrist. “All right then. Whenever you’re ready.”

Zhongli is not an easy man to read but Childe is fluent in their love language. He is a fool to think that he can hide much from his husband. And so, Zhongli replies with, “Later.”

When later comes, though, Zhongli is distracted. 

Their room is dark and the air cold, the biting winter slipping in through the loose window. Childe is below him, his front pressed to the bed, face suffocated by the sheets. His fingers curl into the soft silk, yanking at it. 

He cries out, a wanton sound that Zhongli tucks deep into his gut so he’ll never forget. He grips Childe by the hips and fucks him hard, with maddening drives that strike the perfect spot. Childe keens, rutting back against him, raising his hips to meet every thrust. 

Zhongli watches as his cock sinks right in; how Childe’s ass pulls tight around the thick length, his rim puffy and slick. 

“Perfect,” murmurs Zhongli, wiping at the sweat that beads on his brow. “So, so perfect for me.” Even now, with Childe’s aching joints and the way that he can’t always straddle him. With the scars that mar his imperfect skin, and tiny little stretch marks that show the softness he’s gained with age. 

Zhongli palms at Childe’s ass, spreading the cheeks wide. He grunts lowly as he fucks in hard and fast with renewed fervor. 

“Gods—oh, oh, gods,” cries Childe, his voice cracked and pitched high. He whines underneath Zhongli, trembling, wriggling his hips, seeking out any friction he can find against his hard and leaking cock that bobs beneath him. 

“Darling,” murmurs Zhongli, thinking of his husband, thinking of their love. Thinking of how tight his ass is around him and how well Childe takes his cock. “Baobei, Laogong—” And any other title he’s bestowed upon Childe over the decades is fair game. They all drip from Zhongli’s mouth as he leans close to mutter them into Childe’s ear.

Anxiety spikes, his cock flagging slightly. Creases, wrinkles, and silvering hair. Childe stretching out his sore joints and complaining about how his back hurts— Childe’s mortality haunts him. Zhongli will not have this forever. There will be a day where his hands will have nothing to grip tightly and no tight heat to fuck into.

No one to worship with the warmth and depths of his heart; no one to wholly, and utterly complete him.

Zhongli isn’t typically the type to dwell on things, so the slight stutter of his thrusting is odd. He feels like a stranger in his body, his brain consumed by these unwanted thoughts. Childe doesn’t notice, too lost in his pleasure, too drunk on the drag of Zhongli’s cock as it presses against his prostate. 

“Fuck,” hisses Childe, when Zhongli plasters himself against his back, wrapping an arm around his waist to grab at his length. Hard in his hand, leaking so perfectly—Childe comes nearly the moment Zhongli squeezes it tight, his ass tightening so much that it punches the breath from Zhongli’s throat. 

Childe’s ass flutters around his cock, milking him dry. He moans below Zhongli, debauched and breathy, and squirms with overstimulation.

Zhongli presses his nose into the nape of Childe’s neck, his eyes slipping closed as he just breathes him in, overcome by the smell of the ocean and salty sea air, and the sandalwood soap that he steals from him.

“Please,” cries Childe. “Archons, Zhongli—Please—”

Zhongli fucks in deep, grinding against him, Childe’s ass flush against his hips, dick nestled in as far as it can go. And he just holds there, gripping Childe tight, the baby hairs at the top of his spine tickling Zhongli’s nose as he tries to ground himself and all these wayward feelings. 

“I love you,” he says, his lips and tongue tracing the salty skin there. “Gods, I love you, Ajax.” Zhongli nips at hiis skin and Childe keens. Then, he fucks back against him, overstimulation be damned. 

Zhongli smooths a hand down Childe’s side, touching every inch of his skin that he can manage. He tries to commit it all to memory—the sight, the taste, the smell, and the feel of him. How Childe wriggles, arching his hips. The way his back bends, and the sounds that leak from his mouth. How his cock stirs again at the barest touch. 

Zhongli is an unwavering stone, his memories perfect in their recollection. And while the mere memory of his husband might not be enough, in the end, he’ll still have it. It’ll accompany him into the pits of whatever erosion eventually weathers him away. 

He never cries but he feels the tears that leak at the corner of his eyes. He doesn’t sob but he hides an embarrassed sound against the back of Childe’s neck. In the beginning, Zhongli wondered what it was that made mortals tick; it’s why he retired to walk in their shoes. 

And now he knows, that dreaded reality of humanity tugging at his core. He loves so deeply that it’ll turn into loss next. Zhongli feels death as it looms over him, watching from the end where he’ll return to a miserable loneliness. 

This is what drives them, he realizes, that bare knowledge of finite existence. Mortals understand their limited existence, so they do what they can to make the most of it.

“Zhongli,” says Childe tiredly, even though his cock twitches. 

“Ajax.” Zhongli shifts, changing angle as he leans Childe’s shoulder and presses his mouth near Childe’s ear. “Love,” he whispers, “one more—”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Give me one more. Come on my cock. I want to remember this just as it is.”

It won’t take much. Zhongli can tell as he fucks into him again. Childe goes taut underneath him, fingers white-knuckled in the sheets, his thighs tense and shaking. His ass sucks him in, wringing Zhongli dry. 

And he feels it too, the way that his own orgasm churns in his gut. The pleasure that mounts higher and higher, rising through his being and coiling tight in his belly. 

“So good for me,” he says into Childe’s ear, uttering filthy, filthy, debauched words as he does his best to carve Childe open and stake his claim forever. “So tight—” Zhongli squeezes at his hip— “So warm.”

“I’m—I’m—”

Zhongli fucks into his prostate over and over, cruel in the way that he pounds against it. Though loving, it’s a carnal thing. His cock slips in deep on every downstroke, Childe’s rim parting easily to let him right in. 

“Laogong.” A pause and a deep inhale. “Mate.” Zhongli’s breath hitches against his neck. He feels the dragon lurking deep in his mind, urging him to claim— 

Zhongli bites Childe, teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder, right where it meets his neck. Childe yelps. The tight heat around Zhongli’s dick squeezes tight as Childe fucks back against him with wild abandon. Then, he comes again, this time untouched and only on Zhongli’s cock, spilling all over the sheets with thin and dribbling spend. 

“I love you,” murmurs Zhongli, a reverent whisper into the night. And he keeps murmuring it with every thrust of his cock until, he too, tips right over the edge. He fills Childe up with a hoarse moan, his come wet and hot as he spends himself into those searing depths. 

Zhongli breathes hard as he collapses against Childe’s back. He hides the tears, pressing his face into Childe’s sweaty hair, even as his shoulders wrack with quiet sobs.

But Childe knows, he knows, because he’s already moving, wincing slightly as Zhongli’s cock slips out. He turns underneath him until his back is to the sheets and reaches up, pulling Zhongli to his chest. 

Zhongli collapses against him, uncaring of his weight, or the mess, or how tired and sweaty they are. He sinks into Childe’s touch as he strokes his fingers through his hair. 

“Shh,” soothes Childe, kissing Zhongli’s temple. “I’m here,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”

But he will. Eventually. And then Zhongli will be so hopelessly alone. 

It will not be the first time. But it will be the last.

Later, when the punch-drunk and floating feeling of his high fades, Childe finally broaches the topic. “I’ll find a way,” he says simply, oozing that confidence of his youth, as if this is just another Ruin Guard on his patrol.

“Ajax.” Zhongli sighs, softly, too exhausted to be having this conversation.

“A promise. No—a contract. You love those.”

Zhongli hasn’t made a contract since he married Childe—officially—swearing soft words of love in the depths of their Serenitea Pot. And even then, he’d broken his own promise of a contract to end all contracts.

“A solemn oath, etched in stone,” says Childe against him, his mouth warm against the skin of Zhongli’s brow. “I’ll find a way where I won’t have to leave you.”

It’s romantic, he thinks, how Childe wants to fight for their love. How he’s just as willing to chase right after it because he refuses to leave Zhongli empty and frail. Two sides of the same Mora, truly. 

“Please.” It’s a quiet beg—and begging isn’t something that Childe does unless he’s on his knees, begging to be fucked. “Let me have this one thing, one last noble quest.”

Zhongli falls quiet as he thinks. He says nothing because he knows that Childe’s mind is set. He will try to talk him out of it later. 

Instead, he shifts slightly, pulling Childe’s hand to his mouth. He kisses the ring on his finger, the solid band of geo, and a glint of a Noctilous Jade stone, crafted by his very own fingers. My love for you, etched in stone, inscribed inside, nestled right against the vein that goes straight to Childe’s heart. 

“Etched in stone,” he murmurs, his voice rumbling low against Childe’s chest.

“Always,” says Childe. 

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin smut #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #zhongchi #zhongli/childe #zhongli x childe

[hyperfixatinglove]

❤️ + 💜 for Jacob?? 💕

❤️ how did they meet? was it love at first sight, immediate enemies, or something in between?

Eden and Jacob met during summer camp they're counselors of. Eden was running late due to bad bus connections in middle of nowhere so everyone was already gathered to be instructed by Chris, leader & owner of the camp. Jacob was the one to take Eden to their cabin before the kids showed up.

Eden was quick to take shine to the man, since he joked a lot & seemed rather kind, but they're bothered by Jacob constantly trying to impress Emma, who's far prettier & more experienced than them. It hurt seeing Emma be so flattered by the attention, but Eden & Jacob are steady friends during summer months in Hackett camp. It's towards the end of the camp, couple weeks left when Emma puts her foot down & insists her relationship is just summer fling & Jacob should get with Eden since they're looking for longer relationship.

The other counselor's often dared Eden to do various romantic advances during truth or dares played by camp fire. Eden was often confused since Jacob was visibly happy whenever they complied with the dares.

Eden is the one to always laugh at Jacob's jokes & antics. Unless it's really out of line, his jokes are good to them. He would often end u cheering Eden up when they're feeling down, which ironically was caused by Jacob's own behaviour.

Jacob himself did enjoy Eden's company, but he was interested on Emma romantically for most of the summer camp. That doesn't mean he didn't have bubbling crush on Eden, but his focus on Emma deluded & smoke screened his feelings. He's left confused often during the summer why their interactions feel so right and natural. He would feel guilt when realizing his feelings while still dating Emma. Jacob is the kind of guy to completely devote himself to his partner and has hard time letting go. He's extremely clingy to Emma during the game and has notable difficulty to understand she doesn't want to renew their relationship. Which, I think turned Emma off. But Eden would love that side of him & after the whole Emma vs Eden thing is dealt with, Jacob would be bit more mature & have tools to work on this.

It's messy friendship & love triangle drama.

💜 how do they confess? is it a grand gesture or in a more mundane moment?

I could make the confession happen during the game since delicious almost death moments, Eden tagging along with Jacob entire game.. But truth be told I'd love them or us to be together when game takes place.

Of course that would change a lot, so that's probably it's own Canon AU and a lot of Emma & Jacob scenes just wouldn't happen.

It would be another moment of Eden sulking away from the kids and other counselors and Jacob, pushed by Emma, would approach them. Unlike other times when they meet like this, Jacob would instead be silent and not attempt to joke.

They would chat, Eden would spat about Emma & how to her Jacob is just temporary fling, how Jacob most likely just wants quick fuck, everything basically that's been on their mind.

I love the idea of Jacob being romantic & thus have 'big' confession, grand gesture. But I also like to imagine him being more awkward, a break from his frat boy persona. Yall should by now know I love pretending men who have vulnerabilities behind the masks.

I do know Jacob would make it big reveal to other counselors, most likely just kissing Eden out of the blue when they're all gathered around bonfire. Eden would get so embarrassed they wouldn't dare to show their face & hides on Jacob.

I think Dylan would ship us soo hard.

@the-green-knight

#this is serious I have playlist for him and now lore- #letters of love #some others send me this exact combo too omg #we are hacketteers

[astraltrickster]

Ngl I really hate the way we so strongly associate hobbies with certain age groups, like, in general. Clubbing and cosplay and gaming and dance are for hot young 20-somethings! Birdwatching and bowling and collecting rare versions of mundane items (stamps, bottle caps, coins, etc.) are for ages 40+! Quilting and knitting are for grandmas!

FUCK THAT!!

Like...yes, there are reasons certain averages skew younger or older, and thus to SOME extent the association is inevitable, but...every grandma with the skill and speed to knit her entire family a set of sweaters or make each side of the family a king-size quilt every year (that they OFTEN DON'T FUCKING APPRECIATE due to media stereotypes which is fucking disgusting, holy shit, those things are BIG damned deal practical art pieces) proooobably started in her twenties or earlier to build that level of skill; the fact that we associate these hobbies with old ladies is...part just misogyny (spoiler alert: that's the part where we devalue them), part a really tragic sign that these art forms aren't being passed down (partially BECAUSE of the stereotypes that they're not fun until you're an old lady), and maybe, ARGUABLY in TINY part an inevitability because it DOES take a lifetime to practice the skills before you reach Stereotypical Grandma Level (GODLY)...but it'd be a hell of a lot less so if we showed the work of younger artists too and didn’t make fun of them for "acting old", y'know?

Or for another example where the association makes SOME sense but not nearly to the extent that we treat it, yeah, lots of people will eventually age out of really being ABLE to do super active hobbies, like really intense sports - but as a sickly kid who turned into a very active if still disabled adult, I can say from experience that to a LARGE extent this is less of an inevitability than it is a self-fulfilling prophecy, the average age where it DOES happen in cases where it happens at all is a lot later than we typically assume, and in fact our public health would probably improve GREATLY if we stopped acting like, oh, well, PROFESSIONAL, ELITE athletes usually retire from PROFESSIONAL sports in their mid-20s, so that means that it's DANGEROUS for those of us who do it just for fun to do anything more intense than bowling after 30, we'll break a hip if we continue to dance in our 50s (except for certain styles that are clearly super easy and gentle because OLD PEOPLE do them, this is certainly due to intensity level and not that the older people doing them learned them in their teens or 20s but they've fallen out of fashion, no siree), the only thing you should be doing on ice skates after 35 is barely standing so you can teach your kids lest you smash your skull in and DIE...bullshit.

There's even less excuse with things like cosplay, where the only "reason" to give it up is people going "ewwwwwwwww, old people are gross and ugly >:(" - sometimes in its own immature form, sometimes thinly veiled under "omg why would you, a 28-year old, want to cosplay the 17-year old protagonist of your favorite game of all time? Because it's your favorite game? Bullshit, it's because you wanna fuck kids isn't it!? FBI!!", which I have bitched about many times before for also being a horrible standard for younger people to hold themselves and each other to because time comes for us all. There's NO biological or skill factor to make most fandom creation hobbies inherently skew young (in fact, the skill factor often works the opposite way); the ONLY reason they do - and are stereotyped as doing so even more than they do - is because the moment you develop one (1) fine line, society declares you expired and worthless as anything other than a cog in the capitalist machine until you're old enough to be a cute little old man or lady to gawk at (but not like take CARE of or anything, thats your grandkids' job alone - you DO have grandkids, right?).

And stereotypical middle ager hobbies, "dad hobbies", I mean really there's no good reason for those to skew in any direction; at worst the fact that they skew "middle aged" is a horrifying indictment of Society In General. "Birdwatching creeps up on us all, lol" - does it though? Or did it just take you until 40 to rediscover the love for the natural world that they tried to beat out of you when you entered middle school? For that matter, are you ready to apologize to the autistic classmates you bullied for NOT getting it beaten out of them and still having a favorite dinosaur in high school?

Tl;dr: Fuck, the way we treat hobbies and age is a fucking nightmare and it really plays into the core of ageism: the idea that the only years of your life worth living are the ones from 18-25.

#tag later #bitching