#it's at least nice to have the solidarity
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i feel like many adhd/autistic people have very strong opinions about pants vs skirts/dresses (and vs shorts vs skirt-shorts) so here is My Oddly Specific PJO Headcanons About Their Legwear Opinions:
Percy - Shorts and short skirts kind of guy. Not a huge fan of fabric touching his legs. Type of guy to wear shorts in the middle of winter. Thinks skirt-shorts are neat. Will tolerate long pants if required but not long skirts (surprise fabric against his legs is Bad).
Annabeth - HATES skirts/dresses. Insert line from SoM about Percy not being able to imagine Annabeth caught dead in a dress here. The flowing fabric is a liability and she must be ready for combat at all hours.
Jason - Refused to wear pants until he was like 12. He was raised by wolves and then raised in New Rome; he did not wear pants as a child. Big fan of skirts/dresses but doesn't wear them as often as he'd like. BIG fan of togas/chitons. Pants are extremely hit-or-miss for him and he's very particular about it. Shorts are even more questionable.
Piper - Shorts or skirt-shorts mostly, though is fine with pants. Absolutely hates skirts/dresses do not even look at her with one she will destroy it with her mind. Loose fabric swooshing against legs bad. 100% DIY'd her own jorts though.
Leo - Least amount of loose fabric possible. too dangerous around machinery. Also he needs one billion pockets at all times or he will lose his mind. Shorts or pants only (though overalls are also very nice).
Frank - The only neutral party because he's (allegedly) neurotypical. He just doesn't have sensory problems so he doesn't care. Generally prefers pants though just cause otherwise his legs stick together like when it's hot out or chafe and that's not fun. Also has trouble finding good shorts. If those problems are solved though he's all for shorts/skirts/dresses/etc.
Hazel - Basic jeans or denim-type stuff or the frilliest skirt/dress you've ever seen with no in-between. If it's denim she will doodle on it though.
Nico - Pants only, maybe shorts, and maybe has like one or two exception skirts that he wears pants under anyways. Will tolerate togas/chitons with shorts. Generally dislikes skirts/dresses though mostly just because he grew up in the 1930s so he probably had to wear baby dresses and wearing skirts and dresses now mostly just makes him feel a little bit like a toddler. Also he doesn't like having his legs exposed. His legs will breathe through the rips in his jeans and that is all they need. Yes he is dying in the heat. Yes he has the stupidest tan lines ever don't look at him.
Reyna - Enemy of pants. She'll tolerate them but she won't be happy about it. Long skirts and maybe shorts only. If you can't fight in a long skirt/dress that's a skill issue.
Will - Shorts ONLY. Maybe a short skirt or short dress if he's having a good gender day but would not be caught dead in pants. He and Percy are standing in solidarity in their shorts in 10 degree (fahrenheit) weather shivering their legs off.
#pjo#riordanverse#percy jackson#annabeth chase#jason grace#piper mclean#leo valdez#frank zhang#hazel levesque#nico di angelo#reyna ramírez-arellano#will solace#headcanon#headcanons#this has been sitting in my drafts for ages but i think about it constantly so to the wild it goes#long post //
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It's a good list of grievances, print them out and nail them to people's doors.
But about people making fun of Mine's accent- he's honestly speaking pretty clearly? That scene is still goofy and brings me great joy (obviously), but the awkward dialogue has always been the good bit. It's one of those scenes where there is clearly nothing being said on the other end of the line, and ending a call with Richardson with just "bye"?? Gold.
Dogging on his accent alone is not only cringe but also missing the actual funniest part of the entire exchange
EXACTLY... It's about the delivery and the absurdity of the situation... it's about Mine not even giving Richardson enough time to hypothetically respond before moving on to the next thing he wants to say... it's about The JDrama Of It All, of course the rich CEO is bilingual... it's about the fact Richardson speaks Japanese anyway so this was totally gratuitous... it's about Everything Other Than The Accent
#asks#esotericephemera#guy literally delivers his lines with just as much clarity as the actual native speaker anyway the fuck is “the ruff”#also nakamura's not reading them that way by choice.#that IS his accent in real life. just think once before you speak please#unspeakably cringe all around thank u for being sane#ALSO GHSDGSLHGSL @ YOUR OPENER#really i'm split on talking about this stuff publicly#like i'm. kind of embarrassed about the few times i responded to people when i didn't really need to engage and make myself more angry#so. y'know. tumblr is my receptacle. But Is This Wise is what i'm always thinking to myself...#it's at least nice to have the solidarity#ALSO HI KINSEY I DID ABSOLUTELY STEAL SOME OF THIS FROM CONVO WITH YOU AND THE OTHERS <333
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Being friends with girls who say they are bi and then turn around to me and say the most backhanded shit about me being a lesbian/letting things happen to me that make me feel uncomfortable about being lesbian will never fail to hurt. Never. I thought we were meant to be on the same side?
Sometimes it’s little things that still get me a bit. Other times it’s bigger stuff. I’ve literally had a situation where one of their boyfriends messaged me through their account, sending me voice messages asking me how lesbian sex worked, saying that it’s “purely embarrassing”, “why would you be fucked by a rod of plastic when there’s the real thing”, “you don’t make sense” and all that shit and I can hear her in the background going: “omg noo, hahaha, stop itttt.”
Like grow a fucking backbone here? Because I know I’d never let someone ask you such invasive questions/make offensive statements about your own sexuality? I came off as very passive aggressive to the guy but what do you expect when scenarios like this have been following me around since I came out nearly 7 damn years ago? I literally just sat there and cried afterwards because it never fails to feel like people making a total fucking mockery of me and the people who I expected to be a friend just aren’t.
#on the inverse there are other bi girls who have been nothing but nice to me and those are the ones who I appreciate#but genuinely#and I know that the majority of bi girls aren’t like this#at least I hope#but I haven’t had the privilege to meet very many of them#I just wish I got the bi girl + lesbian solidarity experience#especially when I never fucking let people talk shit about my friends being bi#because we protect our own out here#shit like this makes me hate being a lesbian sometimes I swear#lesbian#lgbtq#wlw#nblw
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i saw a post a while ago about how it's Okay to Ignore Palestine Posts because of mental health and how internet is escapism and blah blah blah. and it's like, okay. sure. mental health is important, but somehow i feel this is actually willful ignorance wrapped up in pretty language to feel more comfortable and justified in staying comfortable.
gonna copypaste some notes i took a while ago, bc it resonated w me and i feel is relevant to this kind of behavior, so i hope it resonates with u as well:
"The experience of being abandoned by humanity and then not being heard occurs when stories of resilience takes precedence over tales of inhumanity."
"Our responsibility is to change our narrative or 'internal working model'; to recognize vulnerability and revision a way to sensitize ourselves to hardship that our own coping and privileged experience allow us to avoid."
"And basically what that means is when we think about the stories of others, when we hear things that we don't necessarily like to hear, we have a choice. We go with it, we move forward in it, and we continue to in some ways enter the people's lives with whom we work, or we retreat. We go back to our privilege, and we think about their stories as something that we're not able to relate to or connect with."
#wynn speaks#wanted to get that out of me. the ''if you don't like graffiti then just look away like you do for human suffering...'' pic got to me.#some ppl are rly out here treating news of genocide and activism like unwanted graffiti on their dashboard.#sorry it makes u feel unsafe and clutters up ur clean safe environment. sorry to remind u that u have a responsibility to other people.#the way to deal with that is not to ignore it tho it is to help do something to the best of ur abilities. btw.#u can still prioritize ur mental health w/o ignoring atrocities. doing what you can--#such as boosting palestinian voices for example. which is as easy as reading a post or an article and hitting rb. or just reading up.#--will always be better than just. doing nothing and looking away.#respectfully speaking. putting this nicely. u are capable of doing at least the bare minimum of solidarity n support.#you're uncomfortable? you're distressed? that's normal! so do something about it! get with it!!!#<- this is a general 'you' btw. not directed at anyone specific.#i just wanted to get this damn thing out of my system so i can. have more space in my brain for other things.
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Figuring out I'm on the ace spectrum was so difficult because I have always been a horny bitch. I knew what sex was at a fairly young age, because I'd asked my mom and she's one of those good parents who'll answer questions like those, and as I grew older and would ask more complex questions, her answers would evolve along with my curiosity and understanding of the world. And I remember having fantasies as young as 9 or 10 years old, even if they were hella vague and nothing close to what sex actually is lol
So as I became a teenager, and all my friends' focus turned from playing with dolls to flirting with boys, I automatically thought I was attracted to boys. And I paid more attention to Cute Boys than I did to Cute Girls, because girls were just nice to look at while boys were People To Have Crushes On. Because of heteronormativity. Looking back on it now, I know there were girls I liked to stare at just as intently as boys, although less often because I wasn't trying to pay attention. And I certainly didn't fantasize about girls because I started reading romance novels in 5th grade, so I was fantasizing about male romantic partners because that was the fiction I was consuming. I didn't even realize fantasizing about girls was possible until I was 17, and I had a few "am I a lesbian" internal crises for years because of it.
So when I did start having sex, I had A LOT OF IT with SO MANY different guys, and eventually a couple of women once I started accepting that bisexuality was real. But it was never really fulfilling. Not like my fantasies were. Not like my books were. I was slutty because sex was fun, I was horny, there were plenty of options so I kept searching for that satisfaction I was craving.
Getting married was a relief (even though it turns out I'm aro-spec too lol) because I was tired of hunting, and even if sex with my husband was meh, at least I had someone around to scratch that itch if I had it, and he didn't mind if I occasionally took care of things on my own because I'd read an especially hot scene in a romance.
I learned about asexuality in my early 20s, but I brushed it off. Couldn't be me, I'm far too horny for that. But I think that comes from the fact that everything you hear about Aces is attached to sex-repulsion or sex-indifference. I wasn't either of those things. I was horny all the dang time. I was fantasizing about sex all the dang time. I figured actual sex was meh because my imagination was so vivid that real life could never match up. Which could be true to an extent, but I think not as much as popular opinion would have us believe. If fantasy was really that much better for everyone, then I think we'd have less incels and unplanned pregnancies than we do.
In my 30s I finally saw people talking about The Spectrum, and I started examining my past, and I figured out I wasn't really attracted to anyone I had sex with. I do occasionally find someone attractive; there are men and women and enbies who make my skin feel tight and give me a little wave of lightheadedness lol... but it's always always the fantasy that gets me really going. If given the opportunity I wouldn't have sex with any of those people. Thank you, but no thank you, I'd rather just imagine it than physically participate in the act with them.
(Ok I might go down on them, but that's less about wanting sex, and more about being able to add them to my Tally. Hell yeah I want to brag about making *insert hot person* have an orgasm. There's PRIDE in that kind of accomplishment lol)
I have a lot of respect for aces that are not horny. I understand it even if I don't share the sentiment. And I feel like most of them understand me even if they don't share the sentiment. There's a solidarity between us.
Until I go into a fandom tag for a character that the aces have glommed onto because they're canonically ace or headcanoned as ace. Good lord, the non-horny aces can turn into downright vicious bastards if a horny ace sexualizes their blorbo.
This post is for them.
Horny aces exist. Please look up "autochorissexual, lithosexual, and aegosexual."
Refer to those definitions in regards to romantic attraction as well as sexual attraction.
Some aces may not fall into one of those definitions, because asexuality is a spectrum, but they may still be horny.
Horny aces are not disrespecting you by enjoying being horny on main. We promise we'll wash the stickiness off our hands before we hold your hands in queer solidarity.
And most importantly: Your blorbo is fictional and does not need to be defended from icky sexuality. They exist in an infinite multiverse, so your blorbo and my blorbo are not the same, even if they appear to be on the surface.
AND:
This post is also for the people who are confused about themselves because they're horny but don't actually feel attraction. You're not crazy, you're not wishy washy, you're not "waiting for the right person to come along" (unless you are, in which case I hope you find them). You're just a thin strip of color on a massive rainbow that holds more unique shades than anyone can perceive at a glance.
You're valid. You're one of us too.
And don't be mean to the non-horny aces. Tag your smut so they can avoid it. (But actually so I can find it lol)
#ltleramblings#queer stuff#seriously the fandom fights are so exhausting#thank goodness for the block button#asexuality
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°•IF THE BG3 COMPANIONS BABYSAT YOUR KIDS!•°
Lae'zel
Congratulations your children are spending an afternoon at boot camp!
You can rest assured they will be treated fairly at least.
No favoritism going on here.
Anyone who misbehaves shall be sent to solidarity confinement and left there until....Idk
If they want a snack they WILL have to fight one another in a duel to the death.
Or at least until one of them falls down and cries.
To the winner go the cookies.
Or more accurately maybe some giant space hamster jerky.
Karlach
This is assuming her engine has been fixed, naturally.
The kids absolutely love Auntie K.
Legit can carry them all on her shoulders at once.
She gives the best hugs too and is always so nice and warm.
She is up to play any games with them! Especially ones where she pretends to be a monster and chases them around.
Very protective of the little ones.
Brings them new stuffies each time she visits.
You MUST remind her constantly to watch her language around the little ones!
Gale
Arrives via magic portal.
Brings Tara to help him.
Takes it very personally if one of the children don't like him.
Tries to impress them via magic and creates a magical illusion to entertain the kiddos.
Attempts to teach them everything he knows about the weave.
Takes it very hard if the children fall asleep during his lecture.
Must be consoled by Tara.
If any take an interest in the weave they immediately become his favorite.
You'll probably end up coming home to your home appliances floating or having some kind of enchantment on them.
Halsin
Yes he turns into a bear and lets them ride on his back.
Most time is spent outside enjoying nature and all of its beauty.
Will carry the littlest one on his shoulders at all times.
Always brings healthy snacks, mostly fruit like apple slices.
Proceeds to take them to a nearby pond to feed the ducks.
Widdles them little animal figures to play with.
No TV or video games. The thought of technology taking over their lives makes him sick.
We play outside or we don't play at all.
Doesn't mind them grabbing at his ears, if they can even reach them that is!
He has to remind one of them multiple times that he unfortunately cannot turn into a dragon.
Sad sad truth.
Shadowheart
Makes cute little flower crowns with them.
Helps the little ones feel better if any of them are afraid of the dark.
Is very good at comforting them.
Possibly might be one of the older one's first goth girl crush.
Badmouths Lae'zel in front of them shamelessly.
Always puts on a tim Burton movie or something for them to watch.
Definitely the reason for any of their emo phases.
They think she's really cool though.
Wyll
Always the first to volunteer to babysit.
Man has the patience of a saint and can handle even the most unruly of children.
Always talks them up and is very careful to never put them down.
Tells them all kinds of exciting stories of his time as the Blade.
Makes sure to adjust them to be suitable for the kiddos.
Leaves out the scary parts.
If any of them are mean to one another and can't get along he's the type to make them each say something nice about the other as a punishment.
Let's them play with toy swords and teaches them a thing or two about using them.
Never raises his voice at them. Is super calm and collected.
Loves them all to pieces!
Also may or may not take them out to get ice cream if they're good.
Astarion
Assuming this is Spawnstarion we're talking about because the vampire Ascendant would just laugh in your face if you asked him then slam the door on you.
Our sweet little spawn will also likely laugh and think you're joking at first.
"You seriously want a vampire to watch over your children?"
Assuming you pay him and be sure to give him big sweet puppy dog eyes he may consider it.
This man is a very not my child not my problem kind of guy.
Gets annoyed with all the children asking tedious vampire questions and responds with very sarcastic answers.
Does not approve of them wanting to touch his ears.
Agrees to let them see his fangs in hopes to scare them (the mischievous little shit).
The children instead think they're cool, which confuses him. He really isn't sure how to feel about it.
Threatens to eat them if they get on his nerves.
Spends most of the time on the sofa, boredly reading a magazine or watching television.
Miraculously takes a shine to one of the younger girls who call him pretty and compliments his clothes and hair.
This is also given the girl is a little mischief gremlin who pulls pranks on her older siblings.
He lets her paint his nails purple or red while she gossips about her mother/father's new partner or her siblings.
Unapologetically shows her favoritism and lets her sit on his lap and watch TV with him.
Will not bat an eye if the other children run a muck and destroy shit.
Legit just keeps watching TV. Probably some drama filled 'reality' show.
He actually finds the chaos caused by the children quite amusing.
One of the children somehow ends up on the roof.
Once the parents are home and it's time to leave. The youngest girl gives him a hug.
His eyes get all big and round and almost threaten to tear up.
Astarion is not asked to babysit again.
Sorry some of them are so short, I mostly write for Astarion so I'm not very confident at doing the other characters.
Hope you like it though!
#baldurs gate 3#bg3#astarion ancunin#astarion bg3#astarion x reader#astarion#lae'zel x reader#lae'zel of k'liir#shadowheart#shadowheart x reader#wyll ravengard#wyll x reader#gale dekarios#Gale x reader#karlach x reader#bg3 x reader#bg3 headcanons#baldur's gate 3 headcanons#halsin x reader
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୭ 🗝️ ✧ ˚. 🪩 don't delete the kisses . . . (l.n.)
— you and lando walk a fine line between ‘just friends’ and something more. but sometimes, it seems like love just isn't meant for you (2.6k words)
+ mentions of drinking and clubs, a lot of miscommunication and pining but i promise it's somewhat fluffy. based on don't delete the kisses by wolf alice.
+ part two | divider from cafekitsune
lando: where r u???? 02:43
lando: y/nnnn:(( 02:45
lando: charls told me you left 02:48
lando: get hmome safe 02:49
you didn't mean to pull an irish goodbye, honestly. but the club was far too loud, and you were nowhere near drunk enough to tolerate the remixed house music and overpriced drinks for any longer.
the easiest option was simply to slip out unnoticed, send a quick text to let everyone know you were okay, and head home alone. if you'd mention your wanting to leave early, no doubt at least three of your friends would decide to leave with you in solidarity, no matter how much you insisted they stay and enjoy their night. that way, everyone was happy.
after confirming that the car you were about to climb into was your uber, you sank into the plush seat, offering your driver a tired half-smile through his rear view mirror. you were thankful that he seemed to understand you weren’t quite in the mood for conversation, and the rest of the ride was silent save for the music playing from his radio.
pressing your forehead to the glass of the window, you allowed your eyes to flutter closed as you thought over the events of the night, replaying every last detail in your head.
it had all started with the fucking shirt.
official galas and nice dinners meant that you were no stranger to lando wearing nice shirts, the sleeves cuffed and a tie usually hanging around his neck. but when lando greeted you with a hug, his ironically named black button-down unbuttoned to the point that it could be considered obscene, you almost forgot how to function. warm skin pressed against your own, and you hated yourself for realising just how perfectly you moulded against his chest.
never had you been more thankful for the presence of max verstappen, whose offer of heading to the bar allowed you the perfect chance to slip away and regain your composure. the red bull driver made small talk with you as the bartender took your orders, and you responded politely, nodding when you were supposed to and laughing along to the odd joke.
but like a moth to a flame, you couldn’t keep your eyes from falling back onto lando.
somehow even in a packed, lively club, lando’s presence shone the brightest out of all the partygoers. worst of all, he didn’t even have to do anything special. he was simply standing there, nimble fingers wrapped around a cup that you assumed contained a vodka soda as he laughed with his friends. dark curls had started to slip into his eyes, whatever he’d used to style them clearly wearing off as he began to sweat a little.
even doing nothing, he managed to look like he’d fallen from heaven right into your life.
someone up there clearly had it out for you, as lando scanned the room and caught your eye. to look away would only incriminate you further, make it look like you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t be, so you smiled. lando shot you a toothy grin back, eyes scrunched shut with the enthusiasm of it.
a cold glass thrust into your palm stole away your attention, and you turned to meet the knowing smirk of max. he nursed his own drink, and one thick brow was raised in a silent question. though he never spoke, it was clear that he knew something was going on between you and lando.
maybe he didn’t want to embarrass you, or maybe he truly didn’t care, but whatever the reason max didn’t vocalise any of his thoughts to you. he simply nodded back over to where your group was standing and gestured for you to walk ahead of him. as you made your way back to the group, you suppressed the urge to worry your bottom lip between your teeth.
to anyone else, the interaction wouldn’t be much to think about. max had caught you, what, smiling at your friend? it was hardly criminal activity. you were just overthinking, the rational part of your brain insisted. but the other part took max’s expression and ran with it.
if max had noticed you harboured certain feelings for lando, then who else had drawn the same conclusions? the last thing you wanted was to be caught staring longingly over at lando, stars in your eyes and a far away look.
in circles like these, people talked, and where formula one drivers went, gossip’s eye was never far around the corner. you’d seen it happen before to other drivers, countless tweets and headlines about who they were caught talking to or dancing with, and the last thing you needed was the speculation of the public on your relationship with lando.
sobered by this thought, you brought the paper straw to your lips, taking a long sip of your gin and tonic and hoping the alcohol would calm you down a little. much to your relief, almost upon arrival you were dragged into a nonsensical conversation with george, alex and lily. george’s slurred speech and alex’s loud laughter granted you a distraction, though it would be a lie to say that your eyes didn’t constantly wander back to lando.
but the heart wants what it wants, and so you couldn’t ignore him forever.
not even a second after an upbeat, bass-heavy song reverberated through the club’s speakers did lando appear by your side, grinning wildly.
“y/n! i’ve been looking for you, come dance w’me!” he shouted, dipping his head down to position his mouth next to your ear.
hot breath tickled your skin, and you shuddered slightly as lando’s larger hand enveloped your own, allowing him to drag you through the crowds towards the dance floor. every now and then, he’d peer over his shoulder to ensure you were still with him, the smile never leaving his lips. everything around him seemed to fade, the bright lights and crowds eclipsed by his radiance.
the crowd seemed to open up around him, blooming like a flower to grant you both more than enough space to dance comfortably without the threat of being hit by stray limbs. lando didn’t even let you get your bearings before he spun you around, high pitched laughter managing to meet your ears even over the pounding music.
it was impossible not to laugh too. you reached up onto your tiptoes, hand still in lando’s own, and spun him around in return. thanks to his height advantage, lando had to duck a little to make the move work, but his hair still brushed against your bare wrist as he passed under it. the tickle travelled along your skin like lightning, leaving goosebumps.
dancing had never been either of your strong suits. even after years of clubbing together, it seemed that each night out was another chance to try to learn exactly what it was you were supposed to do on the dancefloors of clubs and bars, yet you never cared too much.
around lando, everything felt right.
you two continued to dance, mirroring each other's sloppy movements. lando shot you a faux insulted look as you imitated his default dance move, awkwardly moving one arm around to the beat and pointing to the ceiling.
"i do not look like that!" he protested, struggling to keep up his irritated act.
you only shrugged, smirking slightly as you continued to mock him.
another bass-heavy, sultry song began to play, and you dropped your hands. a re-evaluation of how you were supposed to dance was much needed, but lando was one step ahead of you.
without a second thought, lando's hands came to rest on your hips. he took a step closer to you, moving to the beat and prompting you to move along with him.
how you were still breathing was a miracle.
lando was so lost in the music that he was oblivious to your abrupt change in demeanour. suddenly, everything was heightened. even the slightest brush of lando's thumb burned through the fabric of your dress, and you'd gladly bear the marks of the searing touch if it was proof he'd been there at all.
delight soon turned to nerves, as the butterflies in your stomach quickly evolved into wasps, prickly and angry. you'd gotten carried away, dancing with lando like this, and it was beginning to catch up with you.
"i need some air!" you blurted.
lando's eyes snapped open, roaming over your face in concern. he lifted his hand to your face, but to do what, he was unsure. you cursed inwardly at his reaction, his kicked puppy look making you feel even worse.
before he could question you, you forced a wide smile, waving your hand dismissively. "i'm fine! go have fun," you promised, patting his shoulder firmly.
after lando had turned his back, you’d wasted no time in making your way to the club’s exit. just before you could slip through the doorway, you made eye contact with charles. the man only gave you an understanding nod, deciding it wasn’t worth it to pester you to stay.
cold wind whipped your cheeks, and for the first time in hours, you felt like you could breathe properly. haphazard texts were sent to a handful of people you’d seen tonight, and you’d ordered an uber straight after.
all that was left to do now was sit with your thoughts.
maybe romance wasn’t meant for you. maybe lando wasn’t meant for you. like some sort of divine intervention, your apartment came into view before you could spiral too far.
the familiar sight broke you from your daydream, as your focus now lay on getting out of the car and into your apartment without falling over or dropping anything. it was a welcome distraction from the thoughts of lando that plagued your mind.
it’s like your own head was conspiring against you: even when he wasn’t physically around, you still found a way to gravitate towards him.
there were few sights better than that of your freshly made bed, the sheets practically begging you to slip beneath them and go to sleep. unfortunately, you still needed to change out of your club outfit. and take off your makeup. and text lando back.
fumbling around in your bag for your phone, you let out a triumphant noise and perched on the end of your bed to type out your reply.
y/n: sorry lan, i just-
[MESSAGE DELETED]
y/n: i'm home! sorry for leaving like that, it was-
[MESSAGE DELETED]
you groaned, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes in an attempt to ground yourself. there was no reason you should be overthinking a text to lando, of all people. after a deep sigh, you let your fingers dance over the keyboard, rewriting yet another poor excuse for leaving unannounced.
y/n: home safe! sorry for disappearing, couldn't find u before i left and the uber was outside xx
your finger hovered over the 'send' button before you made one final, crucial revision to the text.
y/n: home safe! sorry for disappearing, couldn't find u before i left and the uber was outside:( 03:24
checking the time at the top of your screen, you figured that lando probably wouldn’t respond until morning. well, afternoon, more likely.
you’d been on countless nights out with lando before; by now his drunken behaviours were engraved into your brain.
like clockwork, lando would hit a certain level of drunk and abandon his phone altogether, opting to sling an arm around someone’s shoulder - usually yours - and drag them off to dance. he wouldn’t even think about his phone until the next morning, checking his messages after finding the device tangled somewhere within the sheets of his bed.
sleep quickly became your top priority. as tempted as you were to just lay down in your current state, you knew that the future, sober you would regret it. in your eyes, you deserved an award for dragging yourself to the bathroom and removing your makeup carefully, not without performing a shorter rendition of your skincare routine and brushing your teeth.
yes, your clothes were bundled up and thrown into the corner of your room, and you opted for an old t-shirt - frustratingly, one of lando’s - instead of a set of pyjamas, but you were only human.
exhaustion seemed to take over you the moment that your head hit the pillow, and you let out a soft sigh of relief as sleep began to take its hold. messy curls and a bright smile was the last thing on your mind as you finally lost consciousness.
meanwhile, the other drivers were still in the club with no intentions of slowing down.
lando squinted at the bright screen of his phone, vaguely able to decipher the letters that made up your text. a sigh of relief escaped him as he realised you had gotten home safely, but disappointment still sat heavy in his chest.
“she’s home,” he shouted in oscar’s ear, though his teammate hadn’t asked.
oscar didn’t have to ask who lando was talking about to understand. he’d noticed that lando’s head had operated on a swivel from the moment he’d realised that you were nowhere to be found. he was like an owl, spinning around in a way that dizzied him, all in the hopes of catching a glimpse of you.
if ever questioned about the pout that settled on his lips, lando would probably blame the alcohol for causing his dramatics to be heightened. of course he wasn’t actually that upset that you’d opted to leave a little earlier, not at all.
“that’s good! she say why she left?” oscar shouted back, dipping his head down so lando could hear him a little better over the chaos of the club.
his question made lando frown further.
“no.”
though it was in response to oscar’s question, lando’s answer was directed more towards himself, voice barely above a mumble. he’d only just realised that you hadn’t actually mentioned why you’d left the club early, just why you didn’t say goodbye.
deep in thought, lando’s brow furrowed as he tried to piece together some sort of timeline. last he’d seen you, you had been dancing together, having what he thought was a great time. okay, maybe his hands had wandered a little further than he’d expected, but it didn’t mean anything. he just got caught up in the moment, the fabric of your clothes beneath his hands far too tempting for him to be able to think clearly.
fuck, what if he’d made you uncomfortable?
lando knew that he became more touchy when he was drunk, his desire for affection growing exponentially as his propensity for shame decreased. your personal space became his, too. it was common for him to sling his arms around your waist, or rest his head on your shoulder as the night grew longer, but he’d never gripped your hips like that until tonight.
it would explain why you were in such a hurry to leave, not stopping to say goodbye to anyone and give them the chance to persuade you to stay for just one more dance. he’d overstepped an unspoken boundary in your friendship, and panic began to bubble in the pit of his stomach.
lando swallowed thickly before standing up, garnering a confused look from the australian sitting next to him.
“i need another drink. i’ll be back.”
before oscar could even speak, lando had disappeared into the thronging mass of the party without another word.
🏷️ tags : @faerieroyal @starriesworlds @itscrzy @srrcsm
#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris fic#lando norris fluff#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one fic
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okay so. hear me out. but. au concept--
joel is one of many people affected by a Vanishing. its a phenomenon sweeping the country--people simply not showing up for work, school, life one day, as though they've vanished from the face of the earth. it's almost possible to mistake for normal missing persons cases, if it weren't for the way a few of the higher-profile Vanishings have happened to people who shouldn't have been able to vanish at all, let alone in a way that wouldn't be noticed until too late. look at joel's hometown. the people monitoring the dam were supposed to be redundant, and yet--
anyway. not like he cares or anything, except for the fact this stupid disaster or whatever has left him without anywhere to live or anyone to live with, and he still has a year of high school left, so he can't just do whatever he wants. luckily there's this school in a town called new hermiton that agreed to give him a scholarship to finish his education in the name of recovery and solidarity or whatever, and it's kind of a shwankier school than he'd normally go for, but it's free and, more importantly, they're willing to pay for his lodging, and he can't really turn that down. and it's not like he has a choice but to upend his entire life now. so packing what few of his belongings survived into a bag and getting on a train and moving across the country to a new school it is, he guesses.
(he's been having nightmares that inexplicably feature swarms of blue butterflies. last time he checked, lakes don't have butterflies in them. although maybe it's a metaphor or something, on account of the butterflies saying stupid stuff about how people who are remembered can't disappear, and even a false world cannot be erased if it's watched over, and how fate depends on him holding people in his heart. thanks for saying the same stupid shitty platitudes his social worker told him, just more cryptically, butterflies. real cool.)
new hermiton, it turns out, is a small city. while new hermiton academy is a newer school, much of the city is older. he's moved into a nice enough flat in an older apartment building. he has another cryptic butterfly dream. he thinks he remembers someone trying to urgently warn him of something, but it's all... shaky. that morning, he goes to the school for the first time. he's greeted by a fellow transfer student, skizzleman, although apparently he already knows some of the other folks in town, and transferred here so he could stay with them. but it's at least someone else in a similar enough situation to joel, especially since joel can just tell by the way people are looking at him that skizz didn't have much of a choice but to be here, either, and best friends with impulse or not, he's on his own too.
so. a friend. maybe this school won't be that bad, even if joel keeps having nightmares, and even if the weather here is weirdly cold for july, and even if his new homeroom professor keeps on looking at him really weirdly. (aren't professors supposed to be better about stupid rumors anyway? what's that mr. hills's deal?)
and then, two days later, he waves skizz off at the end of the school day, and gets skizz's friend, impulse, at his door, desperate to hear that skizz had just come to stay the night in joel's shitty lonely apartment, because otherwise it looks like--come on man. joel's already having a shit time. the universe deciding to go after his one existing friend too? he promises impulse to help investigate that night, in the vain hope that Skizz isn't one of the Vanished. joel gets a splitting migraine trying to follow their path back, though, and they have to stop for the night.
skizz is reported missing the next morning. joel resigns himself to cutting himself off from the people around him, as per usual. then, strangely, mr. hills corners him as he goes home.
"you'll need this," he says, and shoves what feels like a cheap butterfly knife into joel's hands. "uh, remember, trust your heart! you'll know how to use it."
"what," joel says. "hold on. you're supposed to be a teacher. why are you giving me this. i know for a fact my file says i have like, ptsd or whatever, which is stupid, but you definitely aren't supposed to be giving me a knife, you weirdo?"
"you'll know how to use it," joe hills says again. "goodbye! believe in yourself!"
mr. hills sprints behind a building before he has to explain anything else. joel is left standing on the sidewalk holding a knife, staring after him.
so. that's weird as hell. joel shivers in the cold and continues on his way home. the butterfly knife feels heavy in his pockets. he should probably report that guy to his social worker or something, but actually talking to his social worker feels like conceding defeat. joel can take care of himself. he can prove he can take care of himself. just watch him. step one: go out to get ramen because he forgot to buy any food for his apartment.
he sees impulse putting up signs as he eats. impulse looks miserable. joel thinks about how skizz, just in the short time he'd known him, had sort of unintentionally given away that he felt isolated after his mother Vanished. that impulse was a great friend, but impulse didn't understand what it was like. he never really SAID as much, but--
it's not fair to impulse, for that to be the last thing impulse remembered of what was apparently a friend since childhood. and joel doesn't care about any of these guys, but he can still pay his check and go out and help impulse go looking. he's no good at comforting people and doesn't know this guy, but joel had been alone too, sitting on the roof and crying, when the helicopters came.
except when they go back to the path by the school, joel's head starts to hurt again.
he looks up and there's a butterfly.
"hey, impulse, are butterflies common here?" he asks, a little desperately.
"i mean, not really, why?" impulse says.
"uh," joel says, and gestures. the two of them stare as the strange yellow butterfly circles in place.
"okay, so that is kind of weird," impulse admits.
"right?" joel says. "the only way it would be weirder is if it were blue." impulse gives him a look. joel does not explain.
it starts to fly away.
"we should follow it," impulse says, his voice getting a little dull. "yeah. we should follow it."
"what? no! no we should not follow the haunted butterfly, are you nuts?" joel says, but it's a bit too late. (maybe this is what the knife is for: stabbing impulse. it would be an effective method of stopping him!) he chases impulse down, down to the river, where yellow butterflies are swarming. impulse, as though possessed, simply steps into the swarm and falls through them to the water.
joel's, uh, freaking out more than a little bit? he'll admit he's freaking out. he dives forward to try to grab him, only to realize that he doesn't see impulse anywhere.
a single blue butterfly lands on joel's shoulder. "do you hold his heart next to yours?"
"i'm going insane," joel says.
"no heart is meant to be completely alone. do you hold his next to yours?"
"this isn't happening," joel says. "this is like a stupid manga or something. it's not happening."
"there is still time to save them; you must hold your heart strong, or the consequences will be dire. i believe in you."
the butterfly vanishes.
"fuck it," joel says. "if i drown then it's nothing people haven't expected of me anyway."
he steps through the swarm of butterflies.
that night, he drags both impulse and skizz out of the river. they're all freezing cold. shadows and strange, yellowy liquid still cling to all of their skin. also, joel stabbed himself, which like, glad to know that's what the knife was for, apparently, and the scar is warm and comforting. he can feel his--persona, and don't ask him how he knows that--shifting under his skin, under the mark on his hand. it said its name is pygmalion; it says it is a piece of joel's soul.
this is all patently insane. but skizz and impulse are alive and NOT eaten by shadow monsters, so even if they're both a little unconscious, joel takes that as a win.
they lie on the ground outside the river. someone stumbles across them. "well give me some teeth and call me an alligator. you got out on your own," breathes a fellow student clutching a dagger. joel thinks he's in the class across the hall. also--
"what are you talking about," joel wheezes.
"you found it on your own. you can find them?" the student says. his eyes are wide. something in joel's soul recognizes something in the student's. something in joel's BRAIN puts two and two together and realizes why mr. hills gave him a knife.
"no. no, go away, i don't want to be involved in this," joel says.
"well, don't you think it's too late for that?" the student says, and joel passes out. he's pretty sure the butterflies have to be laughing at him. in fact, as though to mock him further, after passing out, he doesn't even get to avoid it forever, because he wakes up in a glowing blue boat. there is a man with white-blonde hair, blue eyes, and a blue outfit leaning over him, poking him.
joel takes no responsibility for punching him. he'd do it again, too, as the long-nosed man sitting next to the unmanned steering wheel welcomes him to the velvet room.
(this, joel realizes later, all rather sets the tone for what the next year of his life is about to become.)
#hermitcraft#joel smallishbeans#smallishsona au#THAT'S RIGHT BABY ITS THE PERSONA AU I WAS WAFFLING ABOUT#because i'm playing p3re right now this is pretty p3 inspired but also expect elements of p4 (my fav) and p5#i. do not know enough about p1 and p2 to be using all these butterflies but FUCK IT WE BALL.#a bee fic#KIND OF I GUESS I'LL PUT THIS THERE.#anyway the idea is that this au is half a crack au and half DEEPLY SINCERE#because the JOKE is that joel hates every minute of being a persona protagonist#but the OTHER bit is that joel is genuinely an extremely loyal guy who would do VERY WELL as a persona protagonist#you just have to drag him there kicking and screaming#(sort of in a very. p3-esque way)
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OK TALL!READER REQUEST W POLY!MARAUDERS SO MAYBE JUST SOME DOMESTIC FLUFF W READER TEASING THE BOYS ABOUT THEIR HEIGHTS AND STUFF? OR MAYBE LIKE SIRIUS AND READER BEING LIKE A CHAOTIC SHORT-TALL DUO?
Thanks for requesting!
poly!marauders x tall!reader ♡ 555 words
“Sirius,” you whisper loudly, leaning across the table and schooling your expression into one of concern, “do you want me to ask the waitress for a high chair? Can you read the menu alright from that angle?”
Dark brows lower as Sirius glares at you. “I’m fine, thanks,” he says, voice dripping with malice that’s probably at least half feigned. That’s what you tell yourself, at least. “Hey, how’s the weather up there? I didn’t realize mountains could walk.”
“It’s quite nice,” you reply, smiling at him, but James frowns.
“Oi,” he says warningly. “This here is the prettiest mountain I’ve ever seen.”
Remus laughs quietly behind his menu, and you sigh even as James gives your hand a squeeze of solidarity. You’d tried to make a joke at his expense on the way into the cafe, but it had slipped right by him. When you’d asked if he needed you to hold his hand to cross the street, James insecurity-is-a-foreign-concept Potter had only said “Yes, please” and intertwined your fingers, not faltering even when you’d called him Junior. He’s still holding onto it, but at least his fingers waggling between yours makes a fine consolation prize for your failure.
“So she gets to make fun of me,” Sirius objects, “but I don’t get to make fun of her back?”
“Yes.” James bobs his head. “That’s exactly how it works. Way to keep up.”
Sirius curls his lip at the both of you. “Fine. You can keep each other, and I’ll keep Moony.” He wraps a possessive arm around Remus’ waist, and the other boy only gives him a cursory glance as he’s tugged further down the booth and up against Sirius’ side.
You give Sirius a pitying look. “Think you can kiss him if he doesn’t decide to lean down and let you?” you ask him. “You should have chosen James, at least you can sort of reach him.”
Sirius' mouth puckers with an indignance that borders upon violent. “I’ll climb.”
“Mmm, but some of us don’t have to.” You lean over the table, using your height to drop a kiss on Remus’ head where it’s bent over the menu. He looks up in surprise, and beside you, James' face breaks into a grin as pink spreads across the high points of your boyfriend’s cheeks.
“I didn’t ask to be dragged into your quarrel,” Remus says, as sternly as he can while his shoulders are pulling slowly towards his ears.
“Sorry,” you say, and you half mean it, both guilted and endeared by the bashful look in his eyes.
“Oh, don’t be,” James tells you. “Maybe you’ll remind him he’s alive. Can I have one, lovie?” He beams, closing his eyes and angling his face up towards yours.
You laugh, pecking his lips. James’ hand whips up, and you can forget how fast he is sometimes, your chin in his grasp before you can get more than a whisper of air between you. He kisses you three more times in rapid succession, only letting go once he’s fully convinced he’s got you dizzy with affection. And you are, blinking dumbfoundedly at your menu as Sirius snickers across the table.
“Got nothing more to say, have you?” he asks, smug.
“Shut up,” you mutter. “Or I’ll tell the waitress you’ve asked for a kids menu.”
#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x tall!reader#tall!reader#poly!marauders x fem!reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders x y/n#poly!marauders x self insert#poly!marauders fanfiction#poly!marauders fanfic#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders drabble#poly!marauders scenario#poly!marauders one shot#poly!marauders oneshot#james potter#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter x reader#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#the marauders#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#hp marauders
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Thinking about how in Scaris a mediocre white woman hits up three teen girls of color with unique styles influenced by their respective cultures because of their clear talent and passion for their craft.
And instead of encouraging it, she makes every attempt to squash it. She is, at least from the perspective of the ghouls prior to her shady shit being found out, giving them the opportunity of a lifetime. A famous designer in one of the world's fashion capitals is offering to put them on her level. She'll give them exposure and resources and connections they would've likely never gotten otherwise.
But the trade-off isn't equal. This random woman who only wears black dresses tells these young girls with actual creativity and new ideas and a perspective she can never get, that in order to get on her level they need to abandon those things. The very talent they were scouted off of should be tossed aside in favor of producing the same kind of outfits she already makes over and over until the day they die.
And yet Clawdeen, a Black girl from the states, with her dreams aligning with her reality before her very eyes, is willing to make that trade.
Clawdeen second-guesses herself. Clawdeen, as she is on her way to meet a famous designer who hand-picked her, questions if she's worthy.
Madame Ghostier is successful. Of course she's right. I should just give in and do what she asks. She's the one with the expertise.
But one of my favorite scenes is when Jinafire and Skelita take Clawdeen's sketchbook out of the trash and ask her what she designs for. That if she does it as a means to express herself then why is she expressing Madame Ghostier's vision instead of her own.
All that to say the solidarity between Jinafire, Skelita, and Clawdeen in the movie is really nice to go back to. A very basic kid's movie "be yourself" theme that I find to have (likely unintentional) themes of poc solidarity and rejection of the "white way" of doing things.
#monster high#clawdeen wolf#jinafire long#skelita calaveras#monster high scaris city of frights#scaris city of frights
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As an intrinsic part of their Mortal heritage, I like to think that all the Half-Elven in Middle-earth have at one point in their lives (but most especially their youths) had a fairly unflattering haircut that they genuinely believed was the hottest shit ever:
Dior had a long feathered mullet that was a pure flex to show off how naturally full and voluminous his hair was. He only cut it once the twins were born and it became too much work to maintain while looking after two babies.
Elúred and Elúrin got their hands on an unattended bottle of hair dye when they were five and gave themselves skunk hair bangs that took months to wash out.
Elwing once experimented with teasing her curls into a big 80's hairdo because people told her how her father used to have big hair.
Eärendil had to cut his hair after a lice scare onboard one of Círdan's ships and went for a bowl cut that he thought would be quick and easy to do. Unfortunately, the bowl he used was a little too small and the high fringe made it look like he was wearing a small hat made out of hair. Idril had conniptions. Tuor managed to hold in his laughter until he could reach the privacy of an inner room. Elwing demonstrated the incredible power of love by both saying yes to his proposal and offering to neaten his fringe so that it at least looked a little less choppy.
Elrond stubbornly sported a man bun undercut for two whole years after he lost a bet with one of Maedhros' Mortal retainers and Maglor made a sighing comment about how he shouldn't worry because his hair would soon grow back out "nice again."
Elros gave himself curtained hair in solidarity with Elrond so that Maglor would get off his back, and kept it until the first time he commanded a war party and got good-naturedly ribbed to hell about looking like a 14 year old kid.
Like father like son, Elladan wore a rat tail for a few years after one of the Dunédain wagered he couldn't pull it off. He really couldn't, although he thought it looked great and was forever trying to do fancy styles with it until Elrohir staged a sibling intervention.
Elrohir maintained a buzzcut for nearly fifty years after his parents a little too amusedly said that he could do whatever he liked with his appearance now that he was of age.
Arwen went through a phase in her 200s where she dyed her hair with whatever colours she could get her hands on. The silver was very nice (Celeborn was extremely proud) and the blue highlights were interesting but still managed to work. She even made a decent ginger. However, the attempt at Arafinwëan gold just ended up a washed-out bleach blonde that is to date the only thing that has ever stunned Galadriel into utter speechlessness.
+Although not born Mortal, Lúthien spent a full Valinorean year with feathers instead of hair while trying to shape-shift into a nightingale. It actually made for quite an aesthetic when she took the time to preen them properly, but as she was far too busy running around having adventures with Daeron, the effect was more often ruffled bird's nest than sleek wings.
#lotr#silmarillion#dior eluchil#elúred#elúrin#elwing#eärendil#elrond#elros#elladan#elrohir#arwen#peredhil headcanons
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james potter has lovely hair and it’s well known that the reader is fond of it. whether this is romantic or platonic poly marauders, or James x reader, it doesn’t matter much but
he decides to prank them by saying he’s planning on getting a buzzcut. genuinely devastating news, cus his hair is so lovely. i think sirius would be in tears, reader sat next to him but manages to say through he sobs that he’d look lovely with a buzz cus he’s so pretty that he could pull anything off. remus returns from his quick “gotta hide the electric razor” trip to yank softly on the back of sirius’ hair and tell him to stop being a baby, cus it’s just hair (even though him and reader are blubbering in solidarity, reader at least tries to be supportive, but sirius treats it like a first degree felony)
idk if he’d tell em it’s a prank so quickly if perhaps (I’d do this I’d do this id do this) reader gets all touchy and just has to bury her face at the top of James head for a bit of a mourning period.
sirius switches tactics and says that no one will have anything to hold onto if he buzzes (not true)(james is fuckin massive)(I’ll hold onto his bicep by my teeth if I have to). if they’re not together atp i could see James being like fine 🙄🙄 guess someone’s gonna have to show me what I’d be missing 🙄🙄 quick, im changing my mind 🙄🙄 (little shit)
nsfw under cut // minors dni.
--
sirius would definitely throw a fit without trying to be nice to james, like a full on kicking screaming begging no prongs don't do it!!! i'll throw myself off the roof if you do!!
and yes ur trying to be so polite about it, respect his say in what he does with his own body, but you're sooo sad :( there's little tears gathering in your eyes and james is this close to confessing it was all just a tease to get you to stop crying but remus rushes off to the bathroom to 'wash his hands' (read: hide the razor like you mentioned) so he waits until he's back first, but the antics just continue and he never wants to stop getting doted on!!
he's hugging sirius like don't worry pads! it'll grow back eventually. and sirius is like NO. NO YOU CAN'T. PLEASE.
then you ask for just a bit of time alone with his hair. so you get up onto your knees beside him on the bed and drape yourself all over his head (subsequently putting your boobs in his face) and he's like hehe :] yeah say goodbye to the curls baby :]
remus honestly is just sitting there with his head in his hands i think. just. mourning in private. doesn't wanna bother james but is deeply devastated. so he's not quick enough to catch sirius launching his next attack, which consists of 'what are we gonna yank on during sex, prongs?' and remus pops his head up like. yeah this could work.
"S'true," Remus pretends to deliberate, throwing a pointed look at James, "'Can't tug on those pretty curls if you chop 'em off, Prongs."
with your boobs in his face and now both of his boyfriends talking about yanking on his hair, he's.. coming around. he's definitely not telling you it's a prank now, he just goes right for the belt buckle like 'alright boys, interesting point. i'll need some research to make my final decision.'
you best believe that's the best fuck james has ever had and will ever have, and sirius is generous with his silent treatment after he finds out it was just a prank, too, only ignores him for three days instead of a week <3
#james potter x reader#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#poly!marauders x reader#let's talk about poly!marauders !!
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manager to missus | arthurtv
little social media au! arthur tv drabbly thing
first post! enjoy, sorry if it's a bit shit :3
liked by arthurtv, chrismd and 17,073 more
yourusername: turns out not being in london all the time isn't so bad, can actually see some stars in the sky
gkbarry: come back to london, i miss u x
↳ yourusername: i miss u more, ready for the podcast when you are
georgeclarkey: never thought i'd say this but please come back, chris cannot do anything without you sorting it out
↳ yourusername: afraid to tell you you will be stuck with chris for a little longer, suck it up
arthurtv: hope you're having a good time!
↳ yourusername: thanks arthur! will have to catch up when i'm back :)
↳ georgeclarkey: @/yourusername how come you're nice to him and i get told to suck it up ??
↳ yourusername: @/georgeclarkey thats because i like arthur more then you, glad we cleared that up x
chrismd10: slacking from work, typical
↳ yourusername: if you had to work with you, you would slack too x
liked by georgeclarkey, arthur tv and 23,803 more
yourusername: if i have to go to one more cold place for the sake of filming i fear i may actually kill one of the boys
faithlouisak: kill ethan if you want, i might get some peace then x
↳ yourusername: on it, i think i was debating it after he flashed his arse at the camera anyways x
maxbaledge: don't come back with them, life without george has been incredible x
↳ yourusername: i will try my best x
chrismd10: you have to admit i was the least annoying this time
↳ yourusername: i fear you are incorrect, you were easily the most annoying
↳ chrismd10: what ?? propaganda going on here
↳ yourusername: you literally almost smashed me in the face with a football
↳ chrismd10: was just trying to fix your face for you
↳ yourusername: and you say you're not annoying??
arthurtv: i am with you on this i do not want to be cold any longer
↳ yourusername: we should unionise against chris together x
↳ arthurtv: time and place and i'll be there
liked by arthurtv, bambinobecky and 25,930 more
yourusername: so apparently i'm twenty four now, not a big fan, feeling quite old. at least i got to get very smashed to ignore it! ps, thank you everyone for coming <3
bambinobecky: glad u had a good night, was so lovely to see you x
↳ yourusername: absolutely, you too! glad you were there to neck pints with me in solidarity x
↳ bambinobecky: anytime, what i was built for x
chrismd10: i will forever hate you for guilt tripping me into doing all those shots just because it was your birthday
↳ yourusername: don't lie, you loved it
arthurtv: couldn't have missed it, drunk y/n is one of the best things out there
↳ yourusername: glad to be of service
arthurtv: also the first photo is very pretty
↳ yourusername: going to make me blush mr television
↳ arthurtv: sorry but not
gkbarry: picking you up from the bottom of your own stairs after tumbling down them was a real bonding experience x
↳ yourusername: stop outing me on the main, i'm trying (and failing) to be classy x
georgeclarkey: glad you had a good night!
↳ yourusername: crazy that you're only nice to me when its my birthday
liked by arthurtv, georgeclarkey and 24,903 more. tagged, arthurtv
yourusername: well.. cats out of the bag ?
arthurtv: surprised it didn't come out sooner with chris' fat mouth
↳ chrismd10: hey i hid it for a while ! was getting bored
liked by bambinobecky, arthurhill and 32,048 more tagged, yourusername
arthurtv: to those who said i'd never go anywhere in life, i got a hot gf so
yourusername: clearly your biggest accomplishment
↳ arthurtv: too real it hurts
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Easy Promises
rating: T | cw: cancer, mentioned child abuse | tags: pre-relationship, Steve has good parents, childhood friends, reunion, Theodore is Eddie’s full name agenda | wc: 956
written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | Dec 14: Angst with happy ending
When Steve was eleven, he was told that he was going to die. Naturally, he burst into tears. His mother immediately pulled him to her chest, shushing him gently while his father yelled at their doctor.
“He’s just a child!”
“It’s important for your son to know that leukemia isn’t possible to survive-”
“Bullshit!”
Steve cried harder in his mother’s arms, even after they left the office.
Back home, his mother knelt down, looked Steve in the eye, and said, “You are going to live, baby. You are still going to grow up to be a smart, healthy man. You will fight that cancer and live.”
It was easy to make a promise. It was harder to follow through it.
After the urgent move to Indianapolis, Steve’s days fell into a blur of check-ups, medicine, throwing up, and exhaustion. He spent more days at the hospital than at his new school. He wasn’t sure which place was worse. The clinical words and smells with thin blankets and more sick children like him or the classrooms where apologetic teachers gave him too many lavish gifts while the other kids avoided him.
But there was one boy who declared himself as Steve’s buddy. Steve thought he would hate Theodore Munson, but he didn’t. Theodore (“Just Teddy! My full name makes me feel like I’m Roosevelt.”) never stared at Steve or asked about his leukemia or poked at his thin arms. Instead, Teddy always asked how his day went and listened to every word, even if it was a foggy repetition of hospital visits. If Steve said he was tired, Teddy never announced it to their teachers and just silently offered some cookies or juice under their desks. During recess and lunch, Teddy sat next to him and spoke excitedly about the new comics or movies Steve never had the chance to check himself.
It was always nice listening to Teddy talk. Way better than a doctor reading his statistics aloud like it was an eulogy.
When the chemotherapy inevitably snuck into his schedule, Steve cried and begged everyone to keep his hair. He was already The Kid With Cancer. He didn’t want his hair shaved off.
Nobody listened to him.
A couple days later, Steve wore a Reds cap. He refused to wear the knitted wool hat his Nana had made for him like he was five again. That would just push his classmates into bullying him for real.
He came to school late, not wanting to join the student crowd. He stopped when he saw Teddy sitting on the steps, his shaven head in his arms.
For a second, Steve thought that Teddy somehow knew and wanted to shave his hair in solidarity. And then Teddy looked up and he saw a nasty black eye. They stared at each other for a long time until both of their eyes welled up in tears.
“Your hair’s gone.” Teddy said wetly after they ran into each other for a hug.
“So ‘s yours.” Steve sniffs, daring himself to pat the buzzed scalp.
“My dad got mad last night.”
Teddy told him about his dad enough that his muffled words made Steve tighten his grip. “At least you’re not dying.”
Teddy barked out a wet laugh, “Just don’t leave me first.”
It was an easy promise to accept. Except it was already broken when Teddy never showed at school the next day. And then Steve was alone again.
—
I’m in remission. I still have a future. I’m going to live. Steve repeated that mantra to himself in his car, staring from afar at the ominous entrance of Hawkins High.
It had been a good year and a half since the doctors finally gave the good news. Steve was always a crier, but he’d only stared up at the ceiling in silent disbelief while his parents wept joyfully. The news never really hit him until two months later, when he touched an inch of new hair in the bathroom, and then sobbed and thanked God for letting him live.
Even if that little what if it comes back lingered in the back of his mind.
Now, he was thrown back to Hawkins, which included starting his sophomore year in person.
But old habits still stayed. Steve kept seated in his car and watched the other students walk inside while they laughed with healthy smiles. Even after the bell rang, he stayed. After a good five minutes, Steve’s courage returned and he stepped out.
He only took three steps when a van suddenly appeared, scaring the shit out of him with a blaring honk. Steve jumped back and flipped the driver off. “Watch it, asshole!” He stomped away, his mood broken further by the van’s door opening. Great, now he’s gonna be in a shouting match in front of the school-
“Steve?”
He froze. Turned around slowly.
Teddy, all dressed in some dark clothes with long hair. Teddy, who stared back at him with wide eyes. Teddy, Teddy, Teddy-
Steve wasn’t sure who ran towards the other first, but it was Steve who hugged the tightest and cried first.
“Holy shit,” Teddy laughed wetly in his ear, “Your hair-” He leaned away so his hands were placed on both sides of Steve’s head. They felt warm and oddly right. “You look so much healthier…”
Steve just smiled, a little blush in his cheeks as he said, “I got better.” He watched as the realization dropped on Teddy in real time. Then he was pulled into a more tighter and fiercer hug, already feeling a wet patch on his shoulder.
There were definitely lots of things they needed to catch up on. But Steve’s more contempt in sharing his warmth with his friend.
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college party. - k.s.y.
PAIRING: Kwon Soonyoung x Reader
WORD COUNT: 1.5k
TAGS: meet cute, frat boy!soonyoung, f!reader, college au, strangers to lovers, fluff, just cute soonyoung being respectful
WARNINGS: cursing (two of 'em), implied mentions of drugs/violence against women (roofies), drinking/alcohol, frat/college parties
NOTES: I guess I'm in a meet-cute mood. This was inspired loosely by an experience I had at a party and I thought Soonyoung would be perfect for it. I hope you enjoy! xx
You really didn’t want to go to this party, it had already been a long enough week already and adding a hangover did not sound appealing, but your friends insisted this random frat party would not be as fun without you present. Giving in led you to be surrounded by drunk college students you barely knew, bodies close together as they danced to music you couldn’t hear your own thoughts over. Your friends were strewn throughout the crowd, all within view for safety, but clearly more focused on finding someone to take home tonight. You were about to make your way from the center to the kitchen to find a drink when a loud yell of excitement caught your attention instead as the song changed.
“Oh, fuck yeah! I love this song!” It was a boy in the very center, clearly intoxicated as his eyelids sat low, almost closed, and the giant grin on his face was larger than life. You had seen him earlier, greeting people at the door a few hours ago. He was handsome, that you couldn’t ignore, with a nicely fitting button up shirt and jeans that accentuated his longer legs. His black hair that was presumably pushed back by hair gel was now breaking from its hold, strands falling into his face and draping over the tight undercut around the rest of his head underneath. He’s laughing and turning to everyone in his immediate vicinity, as if he was personally happy to see them all. It was sort of cute, how genuinely he cared for what could very likely have been strangers dancing around him as he stumbled drunkenly around asking people if they were having fun, and he’d kept up this energy all night as far as you could tell, it really was hard to miss his presence. The song was a classic song for people to get extra close to their target of interest, beginning to grind and press as the upbeat yet suggestive song bumped through the speakers. Then, he found his way in front of you. Something about his smile shifted as he reached out a hand, his eyes suddenly sparkled differently as they met yours. “Dance with me?”
You could’ve said no, and maybe you should have, but something about how genuinely happy he was made him look like a harmless puppy. You took his hand with a curious smile, nodding. With a quick glance at your closest friend and a nod of solidarity, you followed this mystery man into the very center, several of his friends letting him pass with a pat on the shoulder and a, “Yo, Hoshi!” So that was his name, or you assume what he at least went by.
You danced to a few songs, between pressing his body close behind yours, to wildly dancing to make you laugh, the next 5 or 6 songs blurred together before he paused and leaned his head toward yours.
“I’m gonna grab a drink, you want one?” He spoke near your ear so you could hear him, and you nodded. “Okay, wait here. I’ll be back.”
About half a song later, he was back with an unopened can for you, and an open beer for himself. His smile was lopsided and innocent as he glanced at the top of the can and then to you. “Just wanted to show you I didn’t mess with it.” You raised an eyebrow as he opened the can in front of you and then placed it in your grasp. “I have a sister, and I know how crazy parties can get with roofies and shit.”
He suddenly sounded almost sober as his gaze turned hard at the thought. Something about how his raw emotion at what he said made a small part of you trust he was being truthful, and you took a sip. “Thank you, for that.”
Just like that, he was back to his grin, eyes softening as the beer began to hit his system and his posture loosened. “Of course! Let’s dance!”
The rest of the night was spent by his side, dancing, laughing, and a few touches that seemed a little more than friendly, giving you the time to correct or reject each advance, which you didn’t. He was respectful and kind, never leaving you empty handed in the drink department, and even through his drunk haze, asked if he could hold your waist and continued to open every drink in front of you. It was the best party stranger experience you had, and despite your protests, you were glad you had come out tonight. Attention from the handsome boy that you may never see again gave you confidence you didn’t realize you needed and was a great way to end your stressful week. You left a few hours later when your friends had gathered you to leave together, and with a sweet pout from Hoshi, you both said your goodbyes and you left on a high knowing he was definitely watching you leave as you walked away from him and out of the party.
_____________
Friday had rolled around again, and you declined yet another invitation to some party your friends had been invited to. You really couldn’t this week, with midterms on the horizon and studying that plagued the forefront of your mind. Your friends groaned beside you as you walked out of your last class of the day.
“Maybe you’ll see that Hoshi guy again! C’mon, Y/N, please?” One pleaded as the other attempted her best puppy eyes.
“Who even says I want to see him again? All we did was dance. I’m sorry girls, I really can’t.” Your friends accepted your final decision begrudgingly as you turned on the corner to walk to your apartment before a voice stopped you in your tracks.
“Y/N? Y/N!” You turned to see exactly who you’d never expected to see, running toward you, his friends now abandoned and clearly confused behind him. Hoshi stopped in front of you, a little out of breath, but with that same wide smile you recognize from last week, but with a clarity in his eyes unlike before.
“Hoshi?” You were surprised he even remembered what you look like, much less remember your name after how much he’d had to drink that night. He looked bashful as you repeated his name, a hand coming to rub at the back of his neck as his smile turned shy.
“It’s Soonyoung, Hoshi is just what the guys call me. It’s good to see you.” His eyes met yours, and they shifted from soft and friendly to a little harder around the edges, determination setting in his face. “Look, I, uh, I was hoping to run into you. I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee sometime? Or boba or something?”
“Are you asking me out, Soonyoung?” You questioned, a playful eyebrow raising in an attempt to hide your genuine surprise. He visibly brightened at the sound of his name leaving your lips, and his smile morphed into a wide grin.
“Yeah,” he almost seemed shocked at the confidence emanating from him as he nodded, “yeah, I am, if that’s what you want.”
You could feel the laser-like stares of your friends a few feet behind you as they watched you once again with the handsome stranger from the party who now revealed themselves as Soonyoung, and you barely registered the hand that appeared to rest on your shoulder as one of them stepped up behind you. “She’s actually free right now, aren’t you, Y/N?” Her grin mirrored the Cheshire Cat, and was every bit as dangerous.
Your face darkened as your confidence quickly disappeared as embarrassment replaced it, a cherry red coloring your cheeks as you nodded in agreement. Soonyoung didn’t seem to notice as he turned to wave off his confused awaiting friends a little ways behind him. You saw them shrug and wave their goodbyes as they continued to walk the way they were headed. You turned to your friends as they hugged you quickly before their less than nonchalant exit, not so quietly whispering “good luck” as they left you with the boy they’d been teasing you about all week.
It took a moment of awkward smiling before you both gathered yourselves and agreed to walk together to a cafe nearby, entering a comfortable rhythm of small talk after a minute or two. Soonyoung was every bit as bubbly and sweet as he was the night you’d met him, and although he was less energetic, he was every bit the same deep down, inebriated or not.
“You know, I’m surprised you recognized me, you were pretty blasted at that party.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory. He looked sheepish once more for a moment before he turned to look at you with the most endearing look you’d seen.
“You’re the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, of course drunk me was going to make sure I remembered you.”
#seventeen#svt#svt x reader#kwon soonyoung#kwon soonyoung x reader#hoshi#hoshi x reader#hoshi x f!reader#svt x you#svt x y/n#seventeen fic#seventeen fluff#hoshi fluff#hoshi fluff x reader#hoshi x reader fluff#seventeen x reader fluff#seventeen one shot#meet cute#strangers to lovers#fluff#horanghxnni writes
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Reqs open?👀👀
How about the octotrio with a gn!reader who has an hyperfixation on sea creatures?
Feel free to ignore
❤️❤️
Octotrio w/ sea creature-hyperfixated Reader
gender neutral!reader, fluff, can be viewed as platonic or romantic, reader is implied to be yuu (it's kind of outright stated in floyd's-)
aaaa my first request!! tysm i hope you like it!!!
Azul Ashengrotto
~ i feel as though he'd be a little... unnerved at your hyperfixation and thus vast knowledge on the sea and its inhabitants at first
~ to him, it feels odd to know that a human is so knowledgeable about a place so limited to their eyes
~ he's also quite jealous
~ you know all of this regarding his home and he could barely understand half of what happens outside of the water for the longest time, he says he doesn't pout but he absolutely thinks back on it later and finds his lip sticking out
~ he's still learning what a small percentage of the animals on land are after spending two years here and you know borderline everything about sea creatures without having actually visited the sea! hmph! not fair, he tells you!
~ he gets used to it pretty easily, and even finds himself able to relax by talking to you about things under the sea (🎶🎶)
~ it's nice to be able to talk to someone he feels comfortable with and knows will understand, aside from the tweels of course
~ he'd definitely be a little flustered if he found out you had a specific favoritism towards octopi
~ "that's me!! i'm one of those!!!" he's proud, let him have this
~ he's probably one of the best to info dump to because he's least likely to get up and walk away because he's bored like the tweels would
Jade Leech
~ he's only interested because he's glad there's finally someone around that understands hyperfixating like he does
~ jade absolutely hyperfixates on mushrooms and so there's a mutual understanding between you two
~ he's not as excitable and in your face about his hyperfixation but it's certainly there
~ you both tend to info dump on the other because neither of you really mind and you understand
~ you both go out of your way to indulge in the other's fixation
~ jade won't admit it aloud but he loves when you go on hikes with him and help him search for mushrooms or knowledge of them
~ in return, he goes out of his way to try and show you various sea dwellers, such as taking you to beaches or storing them in octavinelle for your visits
~ of course, nothing that would outright kill you if it was near you but... some have gotten pretty close
~ hyperfixation solidarity
Floyd Leech
~ i can't see him caring much at first tbh
~ he probably wouldn't even remember, he'd hear it, and then it's already gone from his mind moments later
~ but having a fixation on sea creatures probably helps you remember who his nicknames are for because you can actually recognize the traits he's lined up with people
~ that catches his attention because, really, the only one who can keep up with his nicknames is jade
~ he had an entire moment when he found out where he just got all giggly and started listing off his nicknames for people and you would answer with the person he was referring to
~ you become a lot more interesting to him after that, now whenever you bring up your surplus of knowledge, he doesn't quite pay attention to it but he does acknowledge it
~ you have full reign to make a joke about how you should start cleaning his teeth since he calls you shrimpy
~ he will take it as an invitation and jade will get involved and you will now be tasked with brushing the teeth of two eels
(masterlist)
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland headcanons#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#floyd leech#twst floyd#floyd leech x reader#jade leech#twst jade#jade leech x reader#azul ashengrotto#twst azul#azul ashengrotto x reader#is a raven like a writing desk
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